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thepersonperson · 4 months ago

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I can't believe it's genuinely canon that Geto was jealous of Sukuna being the one to fill up Gojo.

I know Gojo reassured him but we saw he thought of Toji as the last person who satisfied him. No wonder Geto ended up on a crusade against no cursed energy monkeys.

Geto's insecurity with his place in Gojo's life really was his downfall. (On top of not having access to Karl Marx.) He kind of just assumed that Gojo being in a league of his own after awakening meant they could never be together as The Strongest duo.

That insecurity was so pervasive he initiated their break up by objectifying Gojo for his strength. And he later assumed Gojo stopped loving him too.

But you might be onto something with Geto's jealousy starting with Toji. Though he didn't see Gojo awaken (which was essentially "la petite mort" or the little death), Geto was around to hear Gojo call Toji アンタ (Anta). And that particular usage of Anta was really weird.

(Yeah this is one of those asks that poked my neuroses in just the right way.)

-Content Warning: Brief discussion of teenage sexuality.

-Mangareader(.)to for the raws.

-TCBscans for everything but Vol 0.

(Click images for captions/citations.)

Gojo's You Pronouns

I kind of lost my mind over Sukuna's you pronoun usage if you want to know why this kind of thing matters to me. Thankfully, Gojo's you pronoun usage is much more straightforward. Which is why the use of Anta for Toji sticks out a lot.

Gojo usually uses オマエ (Omae—masculine, informal, between peers or to look down on the addressee) for absolutely everyone. Friends, enemies? Doesn't matter, he's using Omae. It's either that, 君 (Kimi—affectionate towards juniors) with his students, or he avoids using you pronouns to be polite. He has only deviated from this pattern with two people—Uraume with てまえ (Temee—hostile and offensive), and Anta with Toji.

Anta is a contraction of あなた (Anata) and both are used in the exact same way. It's an informal you mostly used by people learning Japanese since normal use suggests a familiar and casual relationship with the addressee. That can be rude depending on the context. In the context of love, it's a romantic thing, colloquially called the wife pronoun as its often used by a wife to her husband. The only real difference between Anta and Anata is the indication of class. As a contraction, Anta is seen as more low class/uneducated than Anata.

So what did Gojo mean by his use of Anta with Toji?

Since Anta can indicate the speaker is casual/friendly, uneducated, or flirting, we'll have to infer what Gojo meant with context. Sometimes, it's easier to look at how other characters use this pronoun to get an idea.

For example, Hanami uses Anata for everyone which is why there's nothing flirtatious about them using it. This is just how they talk in general and they aren't singling anyone out in a special way.

A male character who uses Anta for most people in the way Hanami uses Anata is Ike from Fire Emblem. (I'm so sorry this is the only guy I can think of using this as a default you pronoun and he's from a completely different series.)

Ike uses Ore (masculine, informal) as his personal pronoun and he was raised as a mercenary with no formal education, so the Anta in context is more of him being from the lower class and casual. Anta is also less masculine than Omae, so this is also gives Ike that soft edge to his roughness that everyone loves him for. When he uses Anta while speaking to nobles in Path of Radiance Ch 14, they find it extremely offensive and get pissed because they perceive it as him not showing enough respect. (And he does call them out for being dickholes using Anta which makes them even angrier.)

If I recall correctly, (sorry I only really remember Zelgius and Sephiran's pronouns because it subtly confirms them a queer couple), Ike uses Omae (or Temee? The fudging accessible JP transcript went poof.) for the Black Knight and no one else. The Black Knight killed his father and Ike hates him for this. This Omae is not friendly, it's hostile.

I use this example because it shows how for one character these pronouns mean one thing and other characters it the polar opposite. Gojo uses Omae to be friendly, Ike uses Omae to be hostile. Ike uses Anta to be friendly, Gojo uses Anta to...

I don't know.

I don't know why Gojo uses Anta for Toji. It's really fudging odd and he never uses it again or for anyone else. Gojo for Toji uses Anta then Omae then Anta.

First it's confusion over being stabbed. I think in this context it means more of "hey there, buddy" in the way someone might try to talk down an aggressive person by trying to be chummy.

At the time, it probably told Geto something was really wrong because Gojo never uses that pronoun.

The Omae he swaps to is normal Gojo usage. He explains how Toji screwed up with killing him in the way he's been talking at all the assassins that came after Riko.

But internally? Toji remains Anta. This is weird since Gojo usually just sticks to Omae or some kind of nomer when he doesn't know people's names.

Leading up to this internal monologue, Gojo is not angry. He's extremely zen. So much so that he apologizes to Riko for not being upset she was just murdered. This makes me think the Anta isn’t meant to be disparaging.

Anta has always been less harsh than Omae in comparison. It can imply a distance between the speaker and addressee or it can suggest they're very close.

I can't tell if Gojo is trying to express a unique kinship he feels with Toji or if he's putting Toji on a pedestal of strength he idolizes and considers himself separate from. Perhaps it's both and this confusion is intentional. Gojo is a teenager figuring himself out in the most traumatic way possible here. My point is that this use of Anta indicates Gojo feels some kind of way about Toji he doesn't for anyone else.

Toji is very special to Gojo.

Most people are aware of Gojo picking up certain habits and speech patterns because Geto. Rereading JJK after learning about Gojo's history with Geto turns a lot of his silly quirks into things that are really depressing.

Toji is second to Geto in terms of influencing adult Gojo's behavior I think. Not just in the paranoia he experiences of being made vulnerable again, but some of his speaking mannerisms. Gojo asking for last words before he kills someone started with Toji.

He has that same empty look when he does it each time too. This doesn't seem to be like him mourning Toji in the way he mourns Geto by speaking in the way his beloved suggested. It's like he's reliving trauma. And dear lord did Toji traumatize Gojo. The kind of terror in the faces teenage Gojo makes while being hunted and killed are never made again.

But despite this, Gojo as an adult seems to look back on this awful experience fondly sometimes. When Sukuna starts to make him think he's about to lose, Gojo smiles as he recalls this feeling.

Satisfaction? Being killed by this guy was satisfying? I suppose it makes sense, this temporary death did awaken him to immense power that made him feel amazing. In that sense, Toji was Gojo's greatest teacher. And as a teacher, Gojo molds a philosophy from that experience and tries to imbue it on his students in a less traumatic fashion. (I say tries because this still killed Yuji by accident and caused a lot of unneeded stress for the second years in Vol 0.)

As you can see here, Gojo thinks this way because he did die alone despite having strong allies. And because his death made him stronger, he thinks growth can be triggered in a similar fashion. Geto calls him out on how fudged up this “tough love” is.

Gray morally aside, these beliefs and actions are because of Toji. A lot of what Gojo is as an adult is one giant unhealthy coping mechanism for Toji, fondness included.

When Nanami calls Gojo a Jujutsu Pervert he isn't wrong. Gojo is a freak that gets off to fighting in part due to Toji. It's like this horrible little ball of fear, denial, and horny with him. Thinking about Toji being the last person who satisfied him in that way over Geto isn't out of character. The types of blissed out faces he made during that fight do pop up in the Sukuna fight.

We also have to acknowledge that Toji is at the got dang afterlife airport with everyone else. For some reason, despite all the pain he inflicted, Gojo admires him on a similar level to the people who didn't want him dead.

Toji is a lot of Gojo's firsts. His first fear, his first death, his first awakening, and most importantly his first exposure to revolution. Toji is the first person Gojo met that escaped the bindings of Jujutsu Society and obtained freedom. He defied the Zenins and started a life outside of them. His pride and grief brought him back, but for a few years he was the impossible success story.

Though Geto heavily influenced Gojo’s morality, Toji was the basis for Gojo’s revolutionary ideas. It shows in how he trains his students and values the strength of non-sorcerers. He correctly identifies that Toji only wound up this way because of Jujutsu Society, mainly the higher ups, and vows to do something about it.

Is this to prevent another Toji because of fear? Is this how Gojo honors his memory too? Both, probably. Toji basically asked Gojo to be the godfather to Megumi, his son named Blessing, and prevent him from being raised a Zenin. In other words, he gave Gojo his blessing to do better than him and break that awful generational cycle. Gojo has taken that very seriously.

Megumi knows next to nothing about the Zenins until he's made the head after Naobito dies and Maki massacres them. The fact that Megumi being made the head ultimately triggered Maki's massacre of the Zenin Clan is like Toji getting exactly what he wanted from beyond the grave. A mini revolution made possible with Gojo laying the groundwork by providing a space where Maki can exist without hate.

Geto's Jealousy

As Geto was spiralling, he probably thought back on Gojo’s use of Anta with Toji and got a little jealous. After all, Toji was the reason Gojo grew so much as a sorcerer instead of him.

Can you imagine? The love of your life keeps telling you that together you're The Strongest and that's why he's with you. But he goes off with some dude after calling him something he's never called you and comes back a god. He grew more in those few minutes with this rando than the years he spent with you combined. Inadequate wouldn't even scratch the surface of that feeling.

It was always a one-sided admiration—Toji was a bum who leeched off women as you would expect any straight dude would coming from an immensely misogynistic household. He killed children for money and had beef with an 8 year old after looking at him once. But Geto still might've been envious that a non-sorcerer did more for Gojo’s growth than any sorcerer.

Geto’s Coping

The aftermath of Toji put a strain on their relationship in more ways than one. First and foremost, it made Gojo The Strongest. As I said earlier, this caused Geto to become insecure with his place in Gojo’s life. But what I didn’t mention is that the higher ups exploiting this newfound strength is why this never got addressed until it was way too late.

As shown here Geto’s condition gets worse because not only is he mentally isolated from Gojo, but physically as well. A horrible little detail—changes in weight can be very gradual. If you're with someone all the time, you'll likely never notice it. Gojo was kept separate from Geto for so long that this difference was noticeable.

They fall out of sync because Jujutsu Society has decided that their labor is more valuable apart. The problem here exploitation. Toji made it extremely clear to both Gojo and Geto that was the problem. Geto unfortunately came to the wrong conclusion on how to deal with it.

Tags from @nyan-bynary on this post sum up my feelings on this nicely.

#OK OK I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT HOW GETO GOT RADICALIZED BASICALLY INTO FASCISM BC HE ENDED UP BLAMING THE WRONG CLASS FOR THEIR OPPRESSION #LIKE THIS IS SO VERY MUCH THE CASE WITH LIKE RANDO WHITE LIBERTARIANS AND SHIT IRL TOO LIKE THEY NOTICE SHIT SUCKS #BUT THEY END UP BLAMING THE EVEN MORE OPPRESSED PEOPLE INSTEAD OF TAKING THAT ANGER UPWARDS TOWARDS THE ACTUAL PPL DESTROYING EVERYTHING

#like geto saw a man who was so fucking abused and treated like shit by his clan that he basically ran away and started a new life #where he resents the people who were oppressing him but he still had to work for similar people to make ends meet #and in doing so was made a pawn for the internal power struggles of the higher ups #which hurt the other people lower in the hierarchy as well including gojo and geto #but instead of seeing the hand that guided everything here he blamed the toy in the hand instead #devoting himself to destroy every single toy which unknowingly included himself and the sorcerers he wanted to protect so badly as well

#like in his efforts to gather sorcerers he ended up doing a better more inclusive job of gathering sorceres from EVERYWHERE he could reach #he had the true potential to make real grassroot connections with fellow oppressed people but he was misguided on who the target should be #like it's ironic that the only black sorcerer that we see is in the group of the guy that calls non sorceres 'monkeys' #because it says something about him that his problem actually wasn't racism (against non-sorcerers) #it was the high risk terrible lifestyle forced upon every sorcerer in the name of non-sorcerers #WHO DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU GUYS EXIST AND ARE BEING EXPLOITED LIKE THIS IN THEIR NAME IN THE FIRST PLACE MAYBE TRY TO FIX THAT AT SOME POINT???

#it's all so sad bc the moment he chose the wrong people to blame his fate was sealed and it sucks bc he could've done real good things #gojo was the closest to doing anything remotely revolutionary but he went the too peaceful route and it cost him everything #he didn't organize or protest with enough destruction or maybe he thought he couldn't until it became a last resort

#like I find it funny that despite everything gojo wanted to do bc his form of resistance was so lax he ended up alienating hakari and kirara #and the elders. the divide and conquerers that they were used it to expel them from the school #just ahhhhhhhhh so many thoughts I wish they could've done more I wish I wish I wish

In that post, I joked that Karl Marx could’ve saved Geto, but that wasn’t really a joke. Trying to address exploitation without the theoretical framework to be productive about it is like swimming against an ocean riptide at night. You can recognize that you’re drowning, but not knowing where the shore is or that you need to swim at an angle instead of directly against the current dooms you.

The really sad thing is that Geto never realized that non-sorcerers were exploited just like him. Nanami worked directly alongside them and realized their exploitation was one in the same.

He realized that this exploitation was a systemic issue. Gojo realized that those in power were responsible for enforcing it. Both of them lacked the drive to be aggressive about that in the way Geto was. Together, the 3 of them really could’ve unionized to obtain the work-life balance they desperately needed.

But that was never going to happen. The higher ups isolated them until their communication skills and therefore relationships deteriorated alongside their mental states. (Notice how even outside of Jujustu Nanami has no friends. He's just as alone as those two.)

Geto's Love

I don’t think Geto ever learned how to love properly after Toji in a very similar vein to Gojo. Though he more outwardly shows affection to his family, there’s this sense of distance he has between them as a cult leader. His children call him Master and do not take his last name. He’s worshiped as a figurehead and for his beauty. And no one really understands him in the way Gojo used to.

And it must also be noted that the anguish from his family and daughters at his possession did not cause his body to stir. Only Gojo calling his name did.

It's not that Geto doesn't love his family, he just loves Gojo more despite having spent less time with him. (10 years with his family vs 3 years with Gojo.) Even Geto himself says that his family isn’t enough for him to be truly happy.

A world where sorcerers are not exploited is what he thinks will fix this. He wants this for himself, his family, and Gojo. Especially Gojo.

Their breakup was caused by Gojo being exploited more than anyone else. Geto has always objected to that. A world of only sorcerers hypothetically gets rid of the labor exploitation Geto hates for every sorcerer. And it also creates a world where Gojo doesn't need to be The Strongest. It's a world where instead of being overworked, Gojo will have all the time in the world for Geto.

This love Geto holds for Gojo underlies his actions. Him setting this ridiculous plan into motion on December 24th is a grandiose romantic gesture. You can feel the resentment and the longing. He tried to fill the Gojo hole in his heart with a new family and hatred only to fail.

Gojo reciprocated. He always did. But neither of them realized the love was mutual until both of them were dead because work came first.

So yeah anon, Geto was jealous. Both Toji and Sukuna got to know Gojo in ways he couldn’t because being an enemy of Gojo ironically gives them more direct attention from him since that’s a part of work.

Jujustu Society vs Queerness

Even if Gojo and Geto realized their love before everything went to hell, I'm not sure if they would've acted on it due to societal stigma.

Like @nyan-bynary mentioned, Kiara's transness is something the higher ups no doubt rejected. The type of conservatism modern Japan is under does not embrace the open queerness of the past that was especially prevalent during the Heian Era, you know the Jujutsu Golden Age. In a reflection of these politics, the Zenins embody the type of sexual hierarchy wanted by the elders—men run everything and women have children. Even though Hakari and Kiara are a straight couple, they're unable to have children together which is rebellion in of itself. Why Gojo didn't do more for them is kind of baffling.

To be fair, Gojo kind of sucks at sticking up against injustices like this. Hakari and Kiara aren't the only failed in this way. When Geto is verbally discriminatory towards Maki, Gojo doesn't refute his beliefs, Yuta does.

This is honestly, pretty fudged up. Gojo just lets Geto be horrible and offers a weak "don't do that" as a response instead of arguing for Maki's personhood. And we know for a fact he is strong enough to do something and be taken seriously. After all, he did threaten the elders to protect Yuta's life. He didn't stop Geto until he became a large-scale physical threat. For some reason, that's the only type of discrimination Gojo will act on—violent acts that will result in death.

I think this is because Geto told him he needed a really good reason to kill other humans before he snapped. It took a lot of convincing for Gojo to slaughter the higher ups as the result of this. His inaction here could also stem from Gojo being so used to dehumanization that he hardly recognizes it as a problem. But Gojo did force Nanami to address Yuji as a human child instead of Sukuna's Vessel later, so perhaps he reflected on this exchange and tried to do better. (Despite allowing everyone else from Kyoto to be weird about Yuji.)

Regardless, it's this passive mentality when it comes to non-violent discrimination that makes me think Gojo wouldn't have acted on his feelings for Geto.

There's probably a lot of pressure on Gojo to have progeny of some kind (aka be straight and have babies). I do find it a bit odd we've seen nothing of his Clan to the point that Megumi also knows nothing about it. (Though this was probably to spare him the politics drama for the enjoyment of his youth.) They did spoil Gojo rotten, but that doesn't mean backwards societal expectations weren't thrust on him from birth. He was raised to be a living weapon you know. Suppression of his own queerness was likely a part of that education.

And though Gojo is pretty rebellious when it comes to challenging the status quo, like antagonizing those older than him and letting those younger than him speak freely around him, he still has some toxic ideas from his youth he hasn't let go of. He prioritizes his strength over bonds and allows himself to be exploited while trying to make sure his students don't wind up like him...by having them prioritize strength through pushing their limits.

In other words, Gojo would likely just repress his feelings for Geto if it meant obtaining his goals. A queer relationship would be used against him by the higher ups since it rebels against the expectations of Jujustu Society in a way he hasn't pushed hard against. (I'm so sorry Hakari and Kiara.)

With that being said, it's not all that surprising that a lot of the curse users are openly queer. They've freed themselves of exploitation and expectations. Their genders and sexualities are theirs to control. None of them are shy about it. Larue openly loves Geto, Sukuna will kill you for not respecting his disinterest in romance and sex, Uraume will kill you for not respecting that, Kashimo will hit on a man as he's being killed by him, Kenjaku is Kenjaku.

I don't think it's a coincidence that Gojo is at his horniest when he's fighting other men. It's like the one space where he's allowed to engage that side of himself without fear of repercussion because at the end of the day, one of them is going to be dead anyways. (His flirting with Nanami when they're alone together not included.) Sometimes queer people want their love with violence because it’s the only way they can have their sexuality without guilt. That punishment absolves the sin.

Jujutsu Society as it stands is not compatible with queerness. Gojo has a really fudged up way of expressing his attraction to men as the result of this. And if you ask me, I think Toji is the one who really got his wires crossed.

#cactus yaps #Yeah this analysis goes all over the place but I will always tie it back to socialism.#I annotated Posadas to write a fic one time I cannot be stopped.#Labor exploitation and queer struggles go hand in hand.#The queerness of JJK enhances the discussion on labor. I think it's a disservice to keep them separate.#Relationships deteriorate under poor working conditions that alienate laborers from their fellow man.#And since queer relationships are an antithesis to the model that generates the most profit for the capitalist they must be crushed.#JJK is a story about queer men being driven insane by Jujustu Society which is an allegory for labor exploitation I swear to fudge.#I apologize to tumblr user nyan-bynary for coming at you like this.#Can you tell I used to fight people on Twitter over Fire Emblem?#I miss it. Someone come try to deny Ike is canonically gay again.#That particular argument got IkeSoren put in a gay museum. Very proud of that still.#satosugu #geto suguru #fushiguro toji #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #asks

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libraryofgage · 10 months ago

Text

Life in Miniature (One)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedediah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One (you're here!)

There will be more Jedtavius in the next parts I promise, I just thought this would be a funner introduction to the AU lmao

I just love those little guy dudes from the museum so much hfjdks and now we get two pairs of them

Also, fun fact, I took Steve's Roman name from, like, an actual king of Rome. The actual sixth king. He seemed like a chill dude.

Anyway, there's a meme at the end and as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

---------

When Robin took this job as a night guard, she didn't think the previous guard's words about history coming to life at night was, you know, real. She thought it was a joke, a predictable and corny joke, but a joke nonetheless.

But now, after being chased by a T-Rex, getting saved by Theodore Roosevelt, and almost being taken captive by fucking Attila the Hun, Robin thinks this job definitely isn't worth $16.50 an hour. Then again, this is the best paying job she's had in a while, and she was living a nocturnal life anyway.

Robin groans, leaning against a wall in the diorama exhibit, and slides down to the floor. She lets her head fall back against the wall, her eyes slipping shut as she slides. "This is crazy. This is insane. I need to find a fucking weapon or something," she mutters.

"Pardon me," comes a voice close to her head, "but might you be the goddess Diana?"

As pick-up lines go, it's not the worst one she's heard. And, based on what she knows of Greek and Roman deities, it wouldn't be too far off. Still, she does not want to be hit on by whatever weird historical thing is trying to flirt with her.

Robin takes a deep breath, opens her eyes, and says, "Do I look like a goddess to you?"

She looks to her left where the voice came from, blinking when her gaze falls on a figurine that would barely reach her ankle. He's dressed in a toga with a chest plate, wrist guards, a sword on his waist, and a deep purple cape over his shoulders. His hair is, honestly, the most impressive thing Robin has ever seen, made only more impressive by the golden laurels resting perfectly against his temples.

He's looking at her with wide eyes, more awed than anything else. "Yes," he says. "I have heard the gods are larger than life."

Okay. Fair.

"Why Diana, man?" Robin asks.

He tilts his head, studying her for a moment, looking her up and down. "You give me the same feeling as statues of Noble Diana with her Huntresses," he explains, pausing for a moment before adding, "A feeling of kinship, perhaps?"

Oh. This...this is like ancient Roman gaydar, right? Robin snorts and turns, resting her elbow on her knee. "I'm definitely not Diana. My name is Robin. I'm the new night guard."

His eyes brighten some, his smile growing wider and certainly charming enough to make the hearts of a few girls and guys flutter. "I am Servius Tullius, Sixth King of Rome, son of Vulcan, weapons master of the gods, and adopted son of Jedediah, Cowboy King of the Wild West, and Octavius, general of the Roman army."

Robin nods, letting all of the those words process in her head before saying, "Mind if I call you Steve? You look like a Steve."

The Sixth King of Rome blinks, looking slightly confused before his eyes light up with understanding. "Ah! A nickname! Yes, I am familiar with this concept. You may call me Steve, Lady Robin, as a show of our newfound friendship."

"Yeah, don't call me Lady Robin. Just Robin is fine," she says, hesitating before offering her hand to Steve.

"As you wish, Just Robin," he says, stepping carefully onto her hand and remaining steady as she raises him higher.

Robin blinks, frowning slightly and about to correct him again when she sees his smile and realizes it's a joke. "Okay, very funny, dingus," she says, carefully poking his side.

"Is dingus another nickname? It sounds like an insult."

"It usually is, but it's affectionate when I say it."

"Oh! Yes, like when Ockie calls Jed a philistine."

"Uh, sure," Robin says, nodding once as she lets Steve move to stand on her shoulder. He quickly sits, holding onto the collar of her jacket as she carefully stands up. "Hey, you know what I'm supposed to do about the dinosaur bones?"

"Rexy? Yes, he enjoys a game of fetch."

"Fetch. Of course."

----------

"What's going on in that head of yours, little man?"

Steve blinks, looks over at Jedediah, and raises an eyebrow at him. "I'm taller than you," he says, gesturing to the good inch he has on Jedediah.

"As long as you're my son, you're a little man."

Doing his best to not laugh, Steve nods once and points to the new diorama set up in the middle of the room. It's a circular diorama, centered on an equally circular stage divided into sections. A cacophony of noise echoes from it, clashing as each slice of the stage fights for dominance. "I'm trying to figure out what in Jupiter's name they're doing over there," he says.

"Well, most of it sounds like music," Jedediah says, "I think."

"It's not any music I've heard before," Octavius says, coming to a stop next to Jedediah and frowning at the diorama. "I would have assumed it the unholy shrieking of the damned."

"Perhaps it would be nicer if they weren't all playing at once," Steve suggests, hands on his hips as he tilts his head.

"Oh, boy, there it is," Jedediah says, his grin audible in his tone. "He's got the King Face."

"What are your intentions, my boy?" Octavius asks.

Before Steve can answer, Robin strolls into the room, grinning when she sees the raving diorama in the middle. She walks over to Steve, Jedediah, and Octavius, crouches down, and says, "Hey, guys. I see you're checking out the History of Rock display."

"History of Rock?" Steve asks.

"What in the sweet hell do rocks have to do with that mess?" Jedediah asks, gesturing to the noisy stage.

Robin rolls her eyes. "No, like, rock music. It's a genre. Anyway, it was sponsored by some musician, so it's a permanent display now."

"And they will be...playing every night?" Octavius asks.

"Probably."

Steve frowns a little more and nods, rolling his shoulders back. "If they are a permanent fixture in our hallowed hall, they must be welcomed. As Sixth King of Rome, this duty falls upon my shoulders. Fathers, I shall return shortly."

"Woah, woah, hold your horses there, little man," Jedediah says, moving to stand in front of Steve. "You're not going anywhere near that snake pit without some back up."

"A few centurions, at least," Octavius agrees.

"I will have Robin. What better protection is there?"

Jedediah and Octavius glance at each other before looking at Robin. She grins and offers them a two finger salute. "I'll guard him with my life," she says, "It's literally my job."

With that reassurance, Jedediah and Octavius move out of the way. Steve steps onto Robin's hand and settles on her shoulder with practiced ease, ignoring the nervous flutter in his stomach at greeting the new museum residents. He hopes they'll get along, but he also knows the might of his Roman army and the railroad workers can crush any who stand in their way.

Robin stops next to the diorama, tilting her head as she studies it. This close, Steve can see the bands playing on each slice of stage, the instruments and fashion shifting as his gaze travels around it. "Uh, excuse me," Robin says, raising her voice.

The raucous noise from the diorama screeches to a halt, the feedback making Robin and Steve grimace slightly. "Uh, hi. We're the official welcome crew for the Hall of Miniatures here. So, I'll need someone to represent your, like, whole display," Robin says, glancing over the bands until she finds one she recognizes. "Okay, I know you guys, so I'll be designating you the spokesband. Now, could the lead singer step forward?"

Steve watches as someone on the "Corroded Coffin" (what an odd name for a band) slice of the stage steps forward. Robin offers her hand to them, carefully lifting it away once they step on. "Great, uh, carry on, I guess. But, like, maybe play some of your quieter stuff for a bit," she says, her words barely out before the music starts up and the crowds start screaming once more.

She sighs and just walks over to the bench, letting off the person on her hand before letting Steve slide down her arm in a move they spent nearly three weeks practicing if only because they knew it would look cool.

When he hops onto the bench, Steve walks up to the other miniature, a man his age with long hair and odd clothes with tears that Robin once said were fashionable. His instrument is still slung over his shoulders, resting casually against his hips much like Steve's sword. Steve suddenly finds himself thinking that the man looks a little like a warrior. An odd one, to be sure, but a handsome one nonetheless.

He flashes his most charming smile, lets his shoulders relax, and says, "My friend here is Robin, Guardian of Brooklyn. I am Servius Tullius, Sixth King of Rome, son of Vulcan, weapons master of the gods, and adopted son of Jedediah, Cowboy King of the Wild West, and Octavius, general of the Roman army. You, however, may call me Steve."

-----

As far as Eddie was concerned, nothing mattered so long as Corroded Coffin got to keep rocking in an endless concert. The energy never waned, the set list never grew boring, and the music never stopped. He was ready to inform this welcoming crew of just that and promise Hell on Earth if they tried to disrupt the music (angry concert goers are a force of nature), when the words just died in his throat.

Because the most gorgeous man he's ever seen slides down that giant lady's arm, easily and smoothly landing on the bench. Somehow, his hair is perfectly windswept, the golden laurels glinting in the lights above them. His purple cape flutters softly as he walks closer, his toned thighs on full display with the toga hem that falls to the middle of them. There's a sword on the guy's hip, a chest plate that Eddie wants to pull off, a smile he wants to taste, and a pair of freckles right next to each other on the guy's cheek he wants to drag his tongue across.

He misses most of the introduction because he's too busy staring. He gets the important bits, though: Robin, a king, son of a god, adopted son of two dads. Eddie licks his lips nervously, a grin of his own tugging at his lips as he steps forward and playfully bows. "It's an honor to meet you, Your Majesty," he says.

It's supposed to come out joking, a little poke at the guy's authority to see if he can be riled up. It actually comes out way too genuine, and Eddie has a sudden realization that he meant it. He absolutely will accept this guy as his king, actually. He'll fall to his knees before him right now if asked, and not just because it might give him a little peek under the dude's toga.

"Please, just call me Steve. There's no need to be so formal."

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, hoping Steve doesn't realize that the things Eddie is thinking about (the things he wants to do to and with Steve) are just about the least formal things on this earth. "Good to know," he says, relieved his voice sounds normal as he stands up straight and offers his hand. "Name's Eddie Munson, uh, lead singer of Corroded Coffin."

Steve blinks, and his smile becomes a bit more genuine as he steps closer and clasps Eddie's forearm. "A fellow leader," he says, squeezing Eddie's arm. "Welcome to our museum."

"Y-yeah," Eddie says, his arm still tingling when Steve lets go. He clears his throat, idly tugging on a few strands of hair. "So, uh, what's the deal around here? I mean, giant women...Roman kings...cowboys, it looks like."

"Our noble museum is home to Pharoah Ahkmenrah and his tablet, which brings the exhibits to life each night," Steve explains.

"There's a few rules, though," Robin says, sitting down on the bench behind Steve. "One, no getting into fights. Two, be back in your display by sunrise. Three, no leaving the museum at night."

"What? Why not?"

"We have lost good exhibits to Sol Invictus's morning rays," Steve says, frowning slightly. "So, be careful."

Eddie stares at Steve with wide eyes as he nods, amazed at the fact that Steve seems to talk like that so genuinely. And the fact that Eddie is...kinda into it. Holy shit, that's not helping with Eddie's whole "fall to his knees" thing. He wouldn't mind some good old-fashioned worship if Steve would just smile at him again.

Maybe his prayers are heard, because Steve smiles at him again. "Wonderful," he says. "Now, Eddie, could I interest you in a tour of the museum tonight?"

"Oh, you could interest me in a lot of things, sweetheart," Eddie blurts out, his mouth running faster than his brain.

He snaps his jaw shut, relieved and horrified at Steve's slightly confused expression and Robin's "I know what you are" thousand-yard stare from over his shoulder. Before he can try to backtrack, Steve snaps, understanding in his eyes. "Ah! Sweetheart is a nickname, yes? I accept your offer of friendship."

Eddie clenches his jaw, stopping himself from saying that it's more than friendships he's offering, and smiles. "Yeah. A nickname. That's all. I'm just...a nickname kinda guy. I'll probably think of more, too, Stevie. Like that."

Steve practically beams, and Eddie feels his knees go weak. "I look forward to it," he says, turning on his heel to look at Robin, who thankfully schools her expression. "Robin, this is where we leave you for the night. You have my word that Eddie will be back in place before sunrise."

"Well, you two kids have fun," she says, grinning in a way that immediately puts Eddie on edge. "I'd better not hear about any funny business, though. Absolutely no bases should be reached tonight, and you'd better not do any conquering or pillaging."

She definitely looks at Eddie when she says that last bit. Eddie stiffens, doing his best to hold back a blush when Steve glances over at his, the confusion clear on his face. "Conquering requires more planning than this, Robin. I've told you before."

"Don't worry about it, dingus. Just have fun. Here, I'll even call a ride for you," she says, winking at them before turning, holding her fingers to her mouth, and whistling sharply.

Steve walks over to Eddie right as the ground starts to shake, easily catching him around the waist before he can lose his balance. "The shaking does take some getting used to," he says, his tone full of sympathy and obliviousness to the crisis Eddie is experiencing.

When his brain finally catches up enough to ask what he's talking about, a dinosaur skeleton slides into the room, its body wiggling excitedly as it growls. Eddie jerks back, the arm around his waist tightening some. "What the fuck?!" he shouts.

"Worry not," Steve says, leaning closer. His voice is a little softer now, his breath fanning over Eddie's ear. "This is Rexy, our steed for the evening. He's very friendly."

"Friendly," Eddie mumbles, letting himself be dragged over to Rexy and placed on the dinosaur's head by Robin. "The dinosaur is friendly."

"Many of the exhibits are," Steve tells him, grinning brightly as Rexy begins moving after a pet on the snout from Robin.

Eddie looks at him, feeling blinded by Steve's smile once more, and completely forgets about the living dinosaur skeleton.

--------

Lemme know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

(Also I know there are like one or two upcoming parent AUs that people have asked to be tagged in and I tried to see if this was one of them but couldn't find anyone for the life of me hfjdks so I'm sorry if you asked on another post and I missed you orz)

And, finally, a meme for you

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #Mini Steddie #the tag for this series #steve deserves good parents actually #night at the museum #natm crossover #natm jedediah #natm octavius #jedtavius #the worship kink was a surprise to me too actually #and then i realized it was v on brand #have fun guys #there ought to be shenanigans aplenty

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kaaaaaaarf · 2 months ago

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No because THE WAY I CRIED when I received this in the mail!!! I actually screamed. Every single detail is so well thought through...I meant to post pics I took of this earlier but to be honest it completely overwhelmed me. I've added some more pics below the cut of the type set because it's amazing.

It includes art by @aanniehunt and the part that made me cry the most: reviews by some of my lovely moots including @kaleidoscopexsighs @alarainai @imsiriuslyreading @anniedreamwilldo @polaroidcats @brigid-faye @emjayeingray and Brink & Marley. LOVE YOU ALL 💖💖💖

One of my favourite binds we've ever done - back when we were dinosaurs by @kaaaaaaarf

@marley1031 and I have been planning this bind for a long time. I think I'd read one chapter of this lovely story before I had ideas churning in my head over what the design could look like. Karfy's writing is so vivid and full of detail that we were almost overwhelmed with inspiration.

This was our first time doing a design that wrapped around the entire cover, but this dinosaur skeleton was the perfect place to try it.

For the end paper inside, we were able to find a recreation of the Blockbuster poster that was referenced in the fic, based on Karfy's post with photos!

The edge gilding is near impossible to photograph, but the rose gold color complemented the espresso foil on the front so well.

For the bookmark we recreated the framed birth of a calf print that Remus gifts Sirius in the fic- complete with a real wood frame, acetate for glass, and a little dinosaur charm.

The biggest of thanks to Karfy for sharing this story! It was so fun and heartwarming watching these two nerds fall in love.

And a huge thank you to every friend of hers who helped make this bind special by writing love notes for us to include! You are all the best.

#brink tag #marley tag #fic: museum #fic: back when we were dinosaurs #epicblueblanket #marauders #wolfstar

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whiskeyghoul · 6 months ago

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Pt.4 || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!reader]

first chapter, previous chapter, next chapter

A/N: We are back again with another part! This one is a first, real, date with Spencer. I know the timeline of the museum doesn’t check out but let’s pretend it does. I think museum dates are the cutest and would love a Spencer who can info dump while walking around a museum. Also please enjoy this setup to some more conflict hehe. Please reblog when you do enjoy to help spread the fic, it is greatly appreciated.

WC: 2,8K

Tags: Fluff, goth reader, alt reader, pure fluff, first date, museum date, spencer reid, two idiots in love.

Warnings: None.

Your pov

“Do you want to go to a museum with me this weekend?” Spencer asked while he sat in the desk chair in your lab. You looked up from the stereo microscope, a little surprised by the question. Spencer had been taking his breaks there the entirety of the week, keeping you company as you worked or having lunch together. He’d brought you coffee about 3 out of the 4 times he had joined you. A very welcome gift during the long shifts you worked. You would have lunch together sometimes too. Eating, talking, getting to know each other a little better.

“What museum?” You asked with a smile, it would be a real date, outside of the confines of Quantico. “The national museum of natural history has opened a new hall about ocean life and conservation… I was hoping to go see it this weekend. If you want to come along.” He was looking hopeful, although a little nervous. Like he had been wanting to ask this for a while and had a certain fear of your answer. As if you could say no to him.

“Yeah, I’d love that.” You answered, watching as Spencer’s lips curved up into a smile. The focus on his lips jolted you back to the memory of a few days ago. When he had crowded you, looking like he was going to kiss you. Something in his expression changed to a certain level of possession. So close you couldn’t look away from him. The way his fingertips had brushed your skin so gently, it had been on your mind for the entire rest of the day. A little disappointed he hadn’t tried again. Then again there hadn’t been a similar moment. “Great, should I pick you up?” Spencer’s voice shook you out of your thoughts. He seemed excited now, you could see him biting the inside of his lip, keeping from fully grinning. “If you wouldn’t mind that. I could send you my address.” You spoke and he nodded his head in return, “I don’t mind at all.” He spoke a little softer than before. You smiled in turn and went back to your work.

It was Saturday morning when Spencer picked you up from your apartment. You had thought about changing your outfit about 6 times but finally decided it wasn’t worth it to change that many times. You had put on one of your better dresses, just a casual black with a nice flowy thigh length skirt with layers of black, ripped tights. Creating some flair with a multitude of accessories. Because it could be a long day you decided comfort was necessary. When you opened the door you saw his bright smile, watching as his eyes scanned down to take in the outfit. “Hey.” His voice was a little breathy. “Hey.” You returned with a smile. “My uh-” He swallowed looking a little nervous which was adorable to you. “My car is out front. Want to go?” He asked and you nodded your head.

His car, a cream volvo, was a little worn down but somehow you had expected that. Spencer seemed like the kind of person who would hold on to something until it falls apart. He walked around, opening the door for you and helping you in. There were two cups in the center console. The car smelled of coffee and a little like vanilla. “Thank you.” You said as you buckled yourself into your seat. Spencer smiled and closed the door, you watched him awkwardly walk around the car quickly to get into the driver's seat. “You ready?” He asked while turning the key, the engine coming to live with a little bit of a sputter. “Yep, ready. You brought coffee?” You spoke as Spencer looked around for him to pull out of the apartment complex parking lot. “Yeah, thought you might want some. It might be a long day.” He said before fixing his eyes on the road. “Thank you.” Your voice sounded soft as you looked at him, taking the coffee cup closest to you and taking a sip.

There was soft music playing over the car radio. Turned low enough for you to have a conversation but loud enough to fill any silences with comfortable sweet tones. It was mostly instrumental, which given Spencer’s history teacher-esque appearance was to be expected. His focus on the road gave you ample opportunity to let your eyes roam over his face. His profile was somewhat striking, he really was handsome. His hair curling at the back of his neck, not being able to stay slicked down by whatever products he used. You wondered what it would look like if he just let it curl naturally.

“What do you want to see most?” You asked and it caused Spencer to perk up slightly, he quickly looked over to you before returning his gaze to the road. “Well, there is a lot. I heard they have quite a large coral reef tank that is supposed to be modeled after an indo pacific reef ecosystem. I think that or the ocean systems exhibit. They have a massive 360 display with narration and it shows the complex aspects of the ocean and how it interacts with the atmosphere.” You thought you could possibly listen to him explaining everything in the museum if he wanted to. Hours on end to listen to his voice. “But there is also the first ever display of an adult coelacanth and a pup. They are considered living fossils by some, it will be so exciting to see the differences between adults and young ones.” He sounded so enthralled with the idea of everything he was going to see. His excitement only works to fan your own excitement. “I can’t wait to see them with you.” You said and Spencer once again turned to flash you his wonderful smile.

When you entered the museum you walked past the elephant in the entrance hall ready to head to the ocean hall. It was crowded, yet so incredibly beautiful. With the whale model hanging from the ceiling. Along with jellyfish that seemed a little whimsical. Through the middle ran a display with different sea creatures and their descriptions. Along the sides were similar displays. You felt a hand slide into yours, gently holding it and you looked up at Spencer. “Is this okay? I don’t want to lose you in the crowds.” He said as you watched the flush blossom on his cheeks. You interlaced your fingers with his, the size of his hand perfectly encapsulating yours, it was warm and so soft. “Perfectly fine.” You said and stood just a little closer to him. Together you traversed the displays, walking past different deep sea creatures, Spencer sometimes stopping to tell you something exciting he knew about the animal. You in turn try to surprise him with facts you knew, which he would smile at.

Once you saw the coelacanth and the giant squid you moved to the reef aquarium. Watching as fish would lazily swim by, or some of the corals moved with the current inside of the tank. You stood there, watching it together, so incredibly close that you rested your head on his shoulder. Feeling the warmth that radiated from him. Listening to him read out the information next to the tank was a wonderful experience. “Do you want to move on to the ocean system exhibit? It is supposed to restart every few minutes.” Spencer eventually asked. You tilted up your head to look at him. Catching him looking at you and your eye contact felt just a little electric. Those deep, soft, brown eyes. “Lead the way, pretty boy.” You smiled and saw something in his eyes change for just a second. His cheeks flushing once again.

Squeezing your hand a little tighter he pulled you along to the room containing the ocean system exhibit. The room was dimmed, there were seats lined up in a circle around the big globe that hung from the ceiling. It seemed to have already started as you came in, lights projected on it to show the earth and its oceans. Spencer pulled you along to one of the curved couches. There wasn’t a lot of space but he managed to find somewhere to sit. You squeezed in next to him, your thigh touching his, your hips close to him. His cologne was overwhelming like this, being so close in the dimly lit space felt intimate. Even with all the other people around. You felt his thumb rub over the back of your hand gently. A voice rang out over the speakers, starting to explain the ways of the ocean accompanied by music. You listened intently while watching the globe and the moving images projected onto it.

Spencer shifted besides you and you suddenly felt his breath fanning next to your face, his lips close to your ear. It made your cheeks flush, your heart rate picked up along with it. Waiting in anticipation for what he was going to say. “Did you know there is enough salt in the ocean to cover the entirety of the earth. It would be 500 feet thick if it would cover it in one layer.” He whispered the fact and it made you hold back a soft giggle. The moment had felt so intimate all for him to whisper one of his crazy knowledge facts. You turned your head to look him in the eyes, those brown puppy eyes looking at you with a hint of confusion. “Here I thought you were going to say something romantic.” You whispered, tone light and teasing. You watched Spencer flush, a hint of embarrassment as his eyes looked away from yours for a moment. “Sorry.” He apologized, you could see from his movement, the way his thumb stopped massaging the back of your hand, that he felt a sudden regret. “Don’t be. I still liked it anyway.” You whispered, the tip of your nose bumping against his. You felt him exhale in a short burst, like it had been a short gasp he tried to hide, or a certain surprise at the contact. A little rush of electricity ran through your body. A little voice in the back of your head urging you to kiss him.

“You did?” Spencer asked. You softly hummed your answer, tilting your head a little to angle your nose away from his. “Is this okay?” you asked and now it was his turn to hum a soft “mh-hm” which sounded so delicate, almost inaudible over the sound of the projection. Still, all your senses were attuned to him in that moment. You wanted to say something before closing the short distance between you but Spencer was one step ahead. He gently pressed his lips against yours, moving his free hand quickly to hold you in place. The size of his hand easily cupping your neck, keeping you close to him. The feeling made you melt into him, eyes fluttering closed as a soft sigh escaping through your nose. You finally got the kiss you have been craving for days. His lips still had the lingering taste of coffee, but with that sugary sweetness to it. It was a wonderful feeling that ended all too soon in your mind. When his lips left yours you tried to chase them. Not wanting to lose the feeling.

His chuckle made you open your eyes, realizing the lights had turned on and the once dimmed room had become substantially brighter. “That was nice.” Spencer voiced it softly but no longer in a hushed whisper. He had your lipstick on his lips which made your heart flutter ever so slightly. You raised your free hand, slowly wiping at the dark red stain to get it off. “Yeah, it was.” You said while touching his lips. His hand left your nape, taking your wrist gently and holding your hand still. He pressed a soft kiss to your thumb as he held eye contact. Breath hitching you didn’t know what to do. “Ehm… do you want to grab something to eat? At the cafe?” You stumbled over your words. “I would love a cinnamonroll.” Spencer said, a cheeky smirk playing on his lips. Yet you could tell there was a hint of giddiness there for him.

When he let go of your wrist it was like your body remembered how to move again. You stood up, glad the platforms under your shoes were solid, giving some stability to your slightly weakened knees. If you told your 17 year old self a guy who wore cardigans would have you weak in the knees you would have laughed. Spencer held out his hand which you gladly took. He led you to the café where you settled with a drink and something to eat before heading back into the museum. Wandering around past the different exhibits. Hand in hand.

When Spencer dropped you off back home later in the evening than expected you were absolutely giddy. He'd stopped on the way home to grab a bite to eat and you had been engrossed in conversation with each other. After that he asked you to put on the music you enjoyed, stating that ‘you've put up with his music, and I've quite liked what you played at the lab.’ which was a sweet sentiment. You were lucky to have memorized the only station that played the bands you loved. So the last half of the ride was spent with the cure, bauhaus, Depeche mode and many others as the background noise to your conversations. When Spencer parked in front of the apartment building you felt a little reluctant to leave. This had been the best date in years, well… the best and realest date you've had. “Thank you, for today, I loved it.” You spoke up as Spencer looked at you. He smiled that same smile again, the shy one, where he looked like he wanted to bite his lip to stop from saying something he normally wouldn't. “I enjoyed it too. I'm glad I asked you to come along.” His brown eyes lingered on yours. Keeping eye contact made the car feel incredibly small for a moment.

You unbuckled your seatbelt before turning, leaning over the center console and pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. This time it was your turn to initiate it. His hands quickly managed to find their way to your nape again. Sliding up and into your hair. You moved so your left knee was perched on your seat. Your right hand softly cupping his cheek, the light scratch of a day old shave beneath your fingers. Parting your lips slightly, an invitation for him to take it further. When his lips moved with yours, a delicate dance that made goosebumps erupt on your skin. You wanted to be closer, to push your body against his but the damn center console was in the way.

When you pulled away from Spencer you watched his tongue dart out to taste his lips with a small breath. Smiling slightly, you bit the inside of your cheek, “I’ll see you on Monday at work.” you said and gave him a peck on the lips. He nodded his head yes, letting go of you, “I will text you tomorrow.” He said. You smiled at that. Remembering how Penelope mentioned his distaste for texting. You reached for the car door. “Wait.” Spencer spoke up which surprised you. You looked back to be faced with his pleading eyes. “One more?” he asked, “Please?” he added with a small smile. You rolled your eyes gently, before leaning back and giving just another small kiss.

This time when you opened the passenger door he didn’t stop you. Once you stepped out you gave another little wave before closing the door. You rushed up the steps to the complex door and turned back to wave at Spencer as you walked in, watching as he pulled out of the parking lot. When you reached your apartment floor you were still on cloud nine. Dreamily walking down the hallway to your front door. When you did turn the corner and your eyes landed on your front door. A little bag sat on the floor beneath your door clink. A wave of unease washed over you. A nauseous feeling settling in your stomach. You knew exactly who it was from. How they got into the building, no clue, but this definitely was the work of the one person you confidently could say you hate. Your ex.

Tag list: @luvkatryna @emma-e-a @littlemadamred @cultish-corner @styleiconsize0 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @depressedbutartsy @mikariell95

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #alt reader #goth reader #she blinded me with science #tumblr writer #museum date fic #part 4

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sugugasm · 2 years ago

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SLUT CERTIFIED — eren yaeger

꒱ ➛ SYNOPSIS : ❝ i mean…i can teach you, if you want. ❞

˚◞♡ who ?? : eren yaeger x black fem! reader

— ˚◞♡ before you read : minors DO NOT interact, a lil friends to lovers action goin on, this story is written with a black-coded fem! reader, switch! eren, submissive! reader, bimbo??? reader, college au, mentions of a bitchy sorority, tattoed reader, tattooed eren, i present eren the shy gangsta, loss of virginity, body worship, mentions of unresolved feelings, included kinks such as [ choking/ corruption/ breeding/ size kink/ overstim ] positions such as [ missionary/ mating press/ doggystyle/ cowgirl ] eren gives reader head ofc, reader do be squirtin a lil :o, reader and eren are both horrible at communicating their feelings bye.

— ˚◞♡ author’s note : me when i see the header photo on pinterest and get inspired. oh em gee this is my first fic that isn’t a oneshot hello ??? very excited to share this with you guysss. i’ve wanted to write a mini story like this for a while now but i hadn’t been able to get in the funk— BUT LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WE MADE ITTTTT !!!! the first chapter is in the works and should be posted later this month. [ hopefully ]

CHAPTER INDEX

I: THE HUMAN BODY IS A TEMPLE.

II : TESTING THE WATERS.

III : FLIPPING THE SCRIPT.

IV : WAIT, YOU FUCKED WHO?

V : THE NOT-SO AWKWARD ‘I LOVE YOU’ MOMENT.

#ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ saturn’s museum —#YALLLLLLLLL #oh my god #hey lol new fic comin out soon 😧#eren yeager #eren yaeger #eren yaeger x reader #eren x black reader #black reader #eren yaeger smut #snk smut

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allmyocsarebritish · 9 months ago

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A passion for exploration

(Known in my notes as ahkaeology)

Pairing: Ahkmenrah X reader

Warnings(?): Grave robbing

A/N: okay okay I know it's really odd that a wednesday blog is now posting for natm but I went down a rabbit hole and I'm afraid I lost the entrance. History nerd has shown through well and truly :')

Also my first multi part fic :D

Title is courtesy of my mate Abi using AI

Ch 1

Grave robbing

Was desecrating the tombs of these once honoured, omnipotent kings of Egypt really something you were willing to do? Had the circumstances preceding the grave robbery been less bleak, the answer would have undoubtedly been an definitive no. These rulers commanded the uptmost respect in life, and here you were, excavating the only memory that remained. There wasn't a day that went by during your expedition in which guilt did not infiltrate your mind, suffocating your conscience and depriving you of any sleep, even before you came close to finding an ancient tomb. But it wasn't like you had any other choice.

Pushing down your gnawing feelings of dread, you trekked on through the Egyptian desert. Rough sand brushed against your lower legs beneath your simple, calf-length skirt, chafing at the skin. You were the only one of the troupe resigned to walking, as the youngest and the lowest class. Astride camels, the two men had a better view of the surrounding plains, though the blank, barren flats stretched on long beyond the horizon.

"The valley of the kings shan't be too far from this place" called Lord Carnarvon, map still in hand.

You held back a scoff, rolling your eyes as you knew he wasn't looking at you. If only he would admit none of you knew where you were going. The only clue you were given was that the gold rich landmark was announced by a grand pyramid at the end of a hollowed valley consisting of a multitude of others. What a shame that this was the Egyptian desert.

Filled with pyramids.

Days and days stretched on of travel, and eventually, you stopped counting the sunrises, resigning to the fact that this would only stop when the valley was found, however long that took.

As with most great things, the discovery of the valley occurred at a time when you least expected. You had taken advantage of a small oasis, resting for a few hours and permitting the camels an indulgent drink. Howard Carter dozed beside you, hat pulled low over his face, in order to shield his resting eyes from the blazing fire of the sun. Carnarvon had taken his liberty and ran off, or so you had hoped. No, in fact he was continuing the investigation alone and on foot, clutching a worn, shoddy map, which was twinged a grimey brown with years of filth accumulated around the edges of the paper. He never strayed far, though attempted to work out his bearings, using the wind or some pretentious bullshit you never bothered listening to. No, you were perfectly content drawing in the sand with a stick you had found and claimed an hour or so prior.

You were more than unimpressed when the sketches you had so tediously etched into the sand were scattered by Carnarvon sprinting back to the small camp. Jolted awake, Carter sat up sharply, alarm etched across his features.

"Blimey, good sir! You gave me quite the fright!" He exclaimed as you nodded in agreement.

"Are you alright?" You asked, though your eyes may have given away your disinterest (had either man been paying an ounce of attention).

"Shh!" Carnarvon interrupted your pleasant concern, to which you rolled your eyes and began attempting to recover your drawings. "Carter, good sir! I dare say I've found it. I've discovered the pyramid!"

A bold statement, and not the first time either. No, twice prior you had been dragged into the colossal ancient skyscrapers, only to find they were far from your true destination. Empty of any treasure or historical worth beyond the buildings themselves, you continued on, fruitless. Grand structures were quite an obvious goldmine, and previous grave robbers had left the tombs void of, well, anything.

Though of course, it was more than worth it to explore this fresh discovery, not taking any chances.

Time was of the essence, or so you were told. Camels saddled up in record time, you were hoisted up from your seat on the floor by Carter, borderline dragged up.

"Come, young Y/N, you heard his lordship. We may have found the Valley. Hurry on, now" his words were gentle, still treating you as he had done in your childhood, despite the fact you were now 19. It was something that you both appreciated and hated simultaneously. Howard was kind to you, much more so than Lord Carnarvon, who cared as little for you as you did for him. The mutual disinterested made for some long, awkward silences, and many threats to leave you in an unknown grave.

Still dragging you by the arm, Carter began to untie his camel, before finally letting go of you. The rush was honestly needless, you had been expeditioning for months at the least, what harm would a few mere minutes cause? But the men were adamant, and there was no arguing, especially not from a useless child as yourself.

"Can I at least keep my stick?"

Recieving no reply from Carnarvon and an incredulous stare from Carter, you concluded the answer was yes.

The journey from the oasis to the pyramid was shorter than anticipated, though still rather long. Another day passed, spent entirely wandering through the desert. Exhaustion washed over your entire body, and it was a war every minute to keep your eyes open. But, alas, you must continue, and eventually your trek drew to a close as with further examination, it became clear this pyramid was not what you were searching for.

Disappointment and rage filled Carnarvon upon the realisation that this was, in fact, not the Valley of the Gates of the Kings, but rather a singular, sandy pyramid. "Why, there must be some mistake!" He complained impetuantly, always one to shift blame elsewhere. You exchanged a look with Carter, who for once was willing to admit the incompetence of the troupe's leader. After all, what were the chances that a random pyramid would mark the infamous, esteemed valley?

From a distance it appeared mighty, though in fact that was more than likely a mirage caused by the monochromatic nature if the desert. Upon further examination, however, the pyramid was far from the grandeur anticipated by Carnarvon and Carter. Huge gashes and rifts in the brickwork jumped out from metres away. Crumbling brickwork was cratered, resembling a sponge with many holes, as dusty gravel avalanched down the sides of the architecture at every other interval. Overall it was worn and aged, therefore more likely to be looted and barren.

"I do say it's worth taking a look around, my lord." You spoke, addressing him clearly. Carnarvon waved his hand dismissively, wishing you out of his presence.

"Yes, yes. Go ahead child." Did you expect that? No. Did you need to be told twice? Also no. A small grin gracing your features, you took off into the pyramid.

Racing across the gravely surface of the desert, the sand provided a slight level of resistance. Nevertheless, you persevered onwards, stride refusing to falter. Basking in the glorious heat of the warm Egyptian sun's rays casting down on your face, you closed your eyes as you ran, chin tilted upwards. Naturally, this obscured your vision, rendering you blind, and therefore leading you to miss the gaping hole in the ground.

A short squeala of surprise passed your lips as you suddenly found yourself unexpectedly falling through the earth. The drop was rather long, and you landed in a heap on the floor of the dugout with a large thud. You weren't aware of how long you were unconscious, but judging by the severe lack of any source of light, sunset had passed. Pain shot through your body, coarsing through your veins and ricocheting off each of your bones in turn. Head pounding, you groaned slightly, trying to work out what in the hell just happened to you.

Darkness continued to fill the room, prompting you to fish within one of your pockets, pulling out a match and striking it aflame. The hidden chamber was large, that much you could tell even despite the dim lighting. Blinking twice as you began to, very slightly, register your surroundings, you noticed the sheer obscurity of this interior. You'd heard of the saying 'paintings that seemed to follow you around the room', but this gave a new meaning to those words.

No, wait.

Those paintings were moving, and not metaphorically. Eyes widening, you began to notice everything in the tomb writhing like a cluster of cobras. Onyx black cats prowled upon shelves, worn linen bandages slowly unfurling from being bound around each of their limbs. Animated drawings of men, deities and horses alike moved naturally, as though it were a perfectly normal occurrence. Shabti servants, the colour of oxidised copper and ranging from 5-30cm tall formed an army scattered throughout the tomb. Then, slowly, as though delaying the inevitable, your eyes trained upon it.

The sarcophagus.

Shuffling away rapidly, your back hit the decrepit wall of the hidden grave. The embodiment of terror plastered over your face, you watched in horror as the coffin began to violently shake. Your blood ran cold as bangs from the inside began to echo across the acoustic chamber. The rusted hinges were worn and flimsy, and the bolts began to unscrew from their holdings. Padlocks had become frail with ages and popped open, one almost smacking you square in the forehead, to which you responded with a short yelp. For a moment, all movement ceased, as though whatever was inside had begun to listen to the intruder in their grave. You took liberty of the fleeting moment, and began to craft a way out. The quiet was short lived, however, as, with one final, mighty heave, the final lock was broken.

The sarcophagus had been opened.

Your breath caught in your throat, the air thick and suffocating as you watched a wrapped hand emerge from the tomb. The coffin lid was ajar, though it didn't take much pushing to be removed almost entirely. Almost at once, the creatures residing in the grave marched forward, crowding their newly awoken master. Hidden in the shadows, you froze, hoping to remain unseen and ignored, and thus leaving unscathed. Soon enough Carter and Carnarvon were bound to find you?

Right?

A huge open grave couldn't be subtle, you only missed it as you eyes were closed. A stupid decision really, and you mentally cursed yourself.

You remained rooted to the spot on the freezing floor, as the reanimated corpse continued to rise from its grave. Surely this was an affect of your concussion; for all you knew this was just an unconscious dream. Besides, with all the travel in the desert, dehydration had undoubtedly left you delirious. It was at that split second of slight relaxation (if you could call it that) in which you spied the piles of treasure sloping at every corner of the tomb. What could you say - you were a grave robber. Carnarvon would be so proud - if you returned alive that was.

It began to claw at the ancient, frayed linen covering its face, causing your heart to race: it thumped so hard you swore you'd be given away. Praying you didn't go into cardiac arrest, you continued staring bug-eyed as the bandages unfurled in front of you, like the dramatic unveiling of an innovative new invention. Closing your eyes for the second time that day, you winced, raising your arms to shield your face from the horrors you were undoubtedly about to witness. Bile rose in your throat as your mouth drew dry. Images of rancid, rotting flesh peeling off bones flashed through your mind, prompting your whole body to tremble.

'I'm just delirious. Any moment now I'll open my eyes to be met with a chamber of riches.' You thought to yourself. Awoken mummies were the stuff of fairytales, and despite what Carnarvon and Carter believed, you were most certainly not a child.

Your internal monologue was cut short however, interrupted by the gentlest of touches placed on your arm. It prompted you to flinch away instantaneously, a soft whimper escaping. Eyes shooting open, you came face to face with the pharoah himself. And he was not what you had anticipated.

He wasn't the scary mummy you were expecting, he was a teenage kid.

Kind, cerulean eyes rimmed with a smoky black eyeliner stared into your own, azure oceans plagued with concern. Concern for you. Such a colour must have been pricelessly rare, sapphires amongst stones.

His golden, tanned hand had felt cold and lifeless against your arm, yet the heat it had radiated was electrifying, continuing to shoot jolts throughout your entire body. His skin was soft and smooth, betraying the fact that this royal had almost certainly never worked a day in his life.

Slightly unruly brown curls and a toned slender figure - he was actually rather cute.

"Are you alright? You seem a little... Lost?" He queried, to which you seemed unable to form a response.

"I- what.. who? What's going on?" You managed, stumbling over your words as your voice cracked slightly.

He gave a small smile, clearly sympathetic of your utter confusion, before gesturing at a golden tablet, as though that were supposed to help you in any way. Noting your expression of utter bewilderment, the undead Pharaoh elaborated.

"That's my tablet, blessed by Khonsu himself. It holds the power to awake the dead at night," he gestures to himself and the cats, who stared at you, blinking and unsure whether it would be safe for them to approach. Then, he pointed to the paintings in the walls and dragged his finger towards the mass of shabti dolls, both of which watched you with the same confusion. "Along with anything else resembling a life form that finds it's way into the presence of the tablet."

"Right." You answered, holding your head and still in shock.

"You needn't be afraid, you know. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Thank you, that is a relief." You swallowed thickly.

He hummed in response, smiling with an amused frown at the fact you feared him.

"So, who exactly are you?" You asked after a short yet not uncomfortable silence.

His lavish outfit betrayed the royal status he claimed in life, only accentuated by the Red Crown, or Deshret supporting a golden snake - the symbol of monarchy- resting atop his sarcophagus. Around his neck fastened a Usekh collar, adorned with teal and umber jewels and beads, and topped with golden accents. Sleeves of cloth draped over his arms, the fibres of the fabric woven with pure gold. The metallic shine of the element was evident in the chromatic sheen of the cape resting over the Pharoah's shoulders. At his waist there hung a Shendyt kilt, fastened with a cloth belt, also elaborately decorated. Beautiful gold jewellery decorated his figure, your eyes drawn in particular to the stunning gold bracelet cuffs he supported on either wrist, encrusted with gemstones, potentially aquamarine or topaz. Once again your attention was drawn to his face.

"I am Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king. And you are...?"

Stunned into silence for a moment by the regality of the ancient king before you, you blinked and paused briefly before answering.

"Y/N. Y/N L/N."

"So, Y/N, what are you doing in my grave?" Ahkmenrah asked you, barely trying to surpress an amused smile. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to form a lie. This ruler seemed nice, and regardless, you couldn't exactly tell him you were intent on raiding his tomb for riches.

"It was an accident. Really, it was. I was running, and, well, I wasn't exactly looking where I was going."

"Clearly." He smirked. "Why were you in the desert though? Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you don't appear to be Egyptian."

"What? Oh, no I'm not. I'm English. I came out in an expedition with two other men; Lord Carnarvon and Carter. They're archaeologists." You winced at the manufactured truth. It wasn't entirely a lie, that was what the men claimed to be. Though all your troupe really planned to accomplish was glorified tomb-raiding, a fact that made you sick.

"And they left you here?" Ahkmenrah questioned incredulously, unable to fathom why on earth they would abandon you like this.

"Well, no. Not exactly. They allowed me to go check out the pyramid about 10 yards south, but, as o said, I fell down a hole." You blushed again, this time due to your own stupidity and clumsiness. This was not how to earn the respect of an esteemed king.

Ahkmenrah frowned. "So how long have you been down here?"

"Uh. I don't actually know, I was unconscious for a short time. Or possibly a long time, that I'm not sure of either."

Concern once again crossed the young Pharoah's face. "You poor thing! Are you alright? You're not concussed, are you?"

"Probably." You shrugged, further alarming him.

The next few hours were spent talking to Ahk, discussing everything from the legal affairs of ancient Egypt to the cats that accompanied him in his tomb. Over the course of the night, the two of you had grown closer, both in terms of friendship and literal distance. Most of the other inhabitants of the grave had deemed you safe, returning to their regular routine, and the most curious of the mummified cats, an (aptly) Egyptian mau apparently named Tivali, had become rather taken to you. Eventually, the exhaustion of the day had caught up with you, and you slumped against Ahk's shoulder. Revelling in his presence, contentment washed over you as, for the first time on your quest, you relaxed, finally at ease. Perhaps it was delirium, but in your sleepy state you swore you felt his fingertips grace against your cheek, the ghost of his lips pressing gently against your temple.

"Sleep well, my dear."

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