#taboo: the soul is a stranger on earth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mymegumi · 11 months ago

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GROWING PAINS ෆ GOJO SATORU

⠀ word count: 7.2k ⠀ summary: meeting up with the local college’s notorious ⠀ player, gojo satoru, for a group project, you’re shocked to ⠀ discover he’s actually a virgin and has never slept with ⠀ single soul that says they have. now, you find him endearing ⠀ and even offer to solve that pesky virginity problem for him. ⠀ warnings: afab!reader, college au, virgin!gojo, strangers to ⠀ more, corruption kink, top-esque!reader, porn w plot, ⠀ mommy kink, pet names (used by both parties ; baby), ⠀ gojo is whiney in bed, praise kink, oral (m rec), ⠀ unprotected sex, creampie, gojo is taller than reader

this project is gonna burn in flames, and you’re determined to set the match. you don’t even know how you’re going to get anything done, since your only partner is gojo satoru—if you at least had one other partner, you think there might’ve been a sliver of hope, but no, you got unluckily stuck in the class’s only group of two. the academic gods were frowning down upon you and you don't know what you could've done to have incited such wrath.

you're sitting in the library, waiting for gojo to show up for the first meeting that you'd both scheduled and he was currently nowhere to be found. you'd been waiting almost, like, a half an hour past your scheduled time and you were beginning to feel as if you were just going to give up on this. maybe you'd just work on the project yourself and email your professor what had happened, not to throw gojo under the bus, but also for him to not take credit for your hard work.

"you're kidding." there's been a commotion happening from the front of the room, but you’ve been playing your music up a notch from where it normally was to drown out the chatter. “oh em gee, there’s no way you actually know him!”

a laugh rings out across the front of the library—all of the private and quiet study rooms on the second floor had been occupied, so you’d been forced to make-do on the first floor—and the familiarity of it makes your blood boil. turning your head infinitesimally slowly, as if the slower you move the longer you can prolonge the inevitable, you find yourself face to face with your group project partner.

gojo satoru is as he normally is—carefree and unknowing to the situation he puts his peers in when he is, assumedly, knowingly late. he stands taller than you, though by a few inches or half a foot, you’re not sure. you try not to get close enough to him to tell, honestly. his eyes are a piercing blue and whenever he has a presentation at the front of the class, you feel as if you have to look away or divert your own gaze from his. as if holding his gaze was taboo, or made you feel shy. when his hair was on the longer side, it curled around his neck in soft, subtle waves before he would crop it close to his scalp again, leaving just the top parts of his hair wispy and natural. his skin was on the paler side, too, and sometimes you had to imagine he was truly an angel put on this earth to torture you.

you didn’t necessarily not get along with him. he was, on the rare occasion the two of you needed to speak to one another, kind and courteous of you. his humor was a bit similar to yours, and he always held the door for you after class if he was in front of you, but gojo wasn’t entirely out-of-his-way nice to you. again, but neither were you towards him. you didn’t mean to actively avoid him. sometimes, if you saw him walking towards you, though, you might think to make a quick detour you wouldn’t have before.

gojo satoru had a bit of a reputation. a reputation that you’d like to avoid at all costs because it was, for lack of a better word, messy. from all of the rumors on campus, gojo liked to sleep around a little bit. more power to him, but you’d also watched guys do that in your hometown, and watched them break your best friend’s hearts. you didn’t need a guy like that to be your friend or in your life at all.

this group project, in all honesty, would be the first time you and gojo would spend more than fifteen minutes together. hopefully, just working on the project and nothing more—no talk of pussy, dick, boobs, or ass allowed. just the economic turmoil faced by the lower classes and how the corporate world dictated everything. simple and easy.

“it’s true, i swear.” gojo’s smile is bright, illuminating his face as he adjusted the bookbag on his shoulder uncomfortably—his eyes darting around the library as if looking for something. when they lock onto your figure, clad in a college sweatshirt and jeans hunched over your books, is when you realize he’s looking for you. “i’d love to tell you more about him, but i have to go work on a project. so sorry about that.”

there’s the sound of a few girls pouting because, as if it wasn’t bad enough he was causing a commotion, he was causing a commotion while surrounded by about three or four girls. gojo peels himself away, waving goodbye with a toothy smile as he walks towards you. his stride is long—stupid long legs—and he reaches you in mere seconds, towering over you as he sets his bags and laptop on the empty space in front of you.

“thank god i found you.” his voice is low, but the emotion on his face doesn’t change, continually cheerful as his words differ. “they wouldn’t stop following me when i left the coffee shop. i was on time to meet you and they couldn’t take a hint, no matter how many times i walked around center square.”

“and here i thought you just wanted to skip our study session.” it’s deadpan, the tone you normally reserve for people you find annoying and gojo satoru. somehow you’re just now realizing the two categories are the same.

“no way am i missing our study date.” he slides into his seat now, hands a flurry of pulling out papers and typing his password into his laptop and getting pens out and organizing them. it makes your head spin a little just watching him. “i had to suffer through thirty minutes of ‘geto? geto suguru? omg you know him, how do you know him?’ and i need a reward.”

now that is a lot to unpack. “gojo satoru, this is not a date.” you feel as if this is the first thing that needs to be clarified, as you don’t think you want it to be going around that you consider this a date, or even want to consider this a date. the next part you don’t want to consider is the fact that gojo, in his mind, finds hanging out with you in any sort of capacity more rewarding than being fawned over. even if it’s just for girls to say they want to get to know his best friend.

“date, shmate.” he waves a hand around, lips pursed as he turns his head away. “we’re hanging out and getting to know each other. friend date.”

“‘friend date’?” you ask incredulously, eyebrows high on your forehead as you let your mouth hang open. it’s not the idea of it that makes you feel as if he’s playing with you, but the fact he’s being so openly relaxed about it. you thought gojo satoru didn’t date, that he was only fucking people and that was it. “do you even date people?”

“if it’s the right person.” he says it with a smile, eyes shining as he lets his lashes droop a little to look at you. “i’d date anyone if i knew they were going to be just as good to me as i would to them.”

it’s in this moment, inexplicably, that you begin to realize that for all gojo satoru is cocky and undeniably charming, he has the looks to back it up. sure, you’ve looked at him before and noticed he is very attractive and can be objectively considered handsome but you’re looking at him now, really looking at him, and you can feel your heart fluttering softly. it feels like a betrayal on an instinctual level—your own body chemistry reacting positively towards gojo.

he’s tall. taller than you even sitting down, and he’s looking down at you somehow even though you’re average height and will continue to insist on being of average height until the day you die. his skin is, of course, impeccably flawless but upon closer inspection, has very few blemishes and minor scars that could be anything from cat scratches to scrapes from trees or a clumsy personality. gojo’s eyes are some of the palest blue you’ve ever seen, and under their direct scrutiny, they seem to make you feel hot under your collar. you’re not used to having his undivided attention on you, but you think you could get used to it.

“the working class mentality stems from a distinct lack of motivation to do anything other than work.” you start, eyes casting downwards as you realize you’ve just been staring at him without saying anything. your leg begins to bounce under the table with the left over anxiety you can’t manage to bottle away. “if this statement is true, why is it that the work culture is toxic then?”

“what do you mean by toxic?” the two of you flawlessly switch from teasing to seriously working and it makes you breathe a bit easier. gojo leans down a bit, left hand disappearing under the table and a second later, you can feel his hand resting a few fingers on your knee gently. it provides a sort of grounding feeling and it stills the anxious leg’s shaking. “some of the sources i was reading the other day tried to explain it, but i couldn’t quite grasp what they meant.”

and you let the academia of it all lull you into a sense of security. eventually, gojo’s hand drifts from your leg but you feel it there even after it’s withdrawn, warm and sort of calming. you know that he’s much smarter than you’ve ever given him any sort of credit for—he keeps up with you and for every challenging question you give him to work on, he gives you a mental block that you have to work on, too. it’s nice, really. nice enough that you give him your number in case he has any questions on the work the two of you had mutually agreed to work on separately.

⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ⠀ is this that old lady w the candy?? im standing outside the ⠀ abandoned old house at the edge of the woods but i don’t ⠀ see a light on (・・;)ゞ

you laugh a little bit, eyes roving over the text gojo has sent you. when you had given him your phone to put a contact in, you hadn’t expected him to put ‘gojo (o˘◡˘o)’ as his contact name, but it bubbles a laugh out of you every time you see his notification slide onto your screen. you’re also unsurprised to know he texts with an absurd amount of emoticons—they’re oddly fitting for his personality.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ from: you ⠀⠀ oh yeah, i forgot to pay the electricity bill this month, so just come on in. don’t worry about the skeletons on ur way ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀in, they’re just for decoration

you are surprised at how easy it is to talk to gojo. even just when you were sitting at the library desk talking about the project and about random odds and ends, the conversation flowed easily. there were no lulls in the conversation where you worried about what you had to say next, or awkward silences when you thought you had something wrong. it just kept snowballing until it had been at least a few hours since the two of you had started working. you had separated with a light feeling in your chest, proven wrong about your first assessment of his character.

gojo satoru seemed to be a good man, his out of class proclivities forgotten. for now, at least.

⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ⠀ do u rmbr that movie we were talking abt today?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀from: you ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ bruh no fckin way ur tryna talk abt alien v pred again

⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ITS A GOOD MOVIE I SWEAR

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀from: you ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ how good of a movie can it be man

⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ⠀ my roommate n i r (illegally) streaming it soon tnight if u ⠀ wanna come watch. jus smth chill (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ from: you ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ is it gojo satoru chill or actually chill?

⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ⠀ wtf does gojo satoru chill mean ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)⁭

there’s a part of you that wonders if it’s rude of you to be so blasé about his sex life, making jokes every other minute and saying them to his face, and then he makes comments like this—seemingly oblivious to his reputation and what people are saying about him. specifically what people are saying about things they do with him. you’ve heard more about gojo’s cock than you’d care to admit, but maybe the reason you agree to go over is because you’re curious. not about his cock, but about whether the rumors are true, about gojo in general.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ from: you ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ nvm. i’m down. addy?

so now, you’re at gojo and geto’s door at their dorm building, popcorn and a six pack of coca cola’s in your hand as you wait for him to open the door for you. it was an impulsive choice, since you had half a mind to just go to bed and watch anime for the rest of the night. but there’s something about his energy that made you want to hang out with him more, even if in the company of his magnanimous and heavily sought after roommate.

“yo, satoru!” you hear shouting from within, and you’re positive you can hear something falling over. “stop running. walk like a normal person.”

“don’t open the door!” it’s muffled, but you’re positive that’s what gojo’s response is. shortly after, you watch the door fling open with a breathless gojo behind it, eyes bright and smile wide. “welcome to our humble abode!”

“emphasis on humble.” geto mutters, thoroughly kicked to the side now.

the dorm apartment is nice, a simple layout of just a large living space with an open kitchen attached. there are a few doors that you can only assume lead to bedrooms and a bathroom, but the lights are all dimmed so you can’t tell bathrooms from bedroom. the living area has a couch and an arm chair surrounding a small, partially broken coffee table and entertainment center with a particularly out-of-place fancy television. there’s various odds and ends on shelves scattered around the apartment, as well as a few viney plants toppling over each shelf. a cat feeder and bowl is in the living room and you can see the tail of a sweet looking white cat every few seconds, though you never see the cat itself from where you’re standing.

you nod your head, holding out the housewarming gifts you’d brought with you. “i brought a whole box ‘cause i didn’t know if it’d be just us or more people.”

you had been expecting something of a small party, considering that geto and gojo had a reputation of being something of party animals. from your short view of the entryway, though, it seems as if it’s just the two boys and yourself.

“as if i’d invite anyone else for alien versus predator.” gojo scoffs, taking the box and ripping it open, throwing a single package of popcorn into the microwave. “you think any of the pleebs we go to school with understand the nuances and underlying themes of that masterpiece the way we would?”

“i’m still not even sure you can call alien versus predator a masterpiece, let alone say it has nuances.” you shake your head, shedding your outer layer until you’re left in your sweater and leggings. “but i’m more than happy to play devil’s advocate.”

“when was the last time i even watched alien versus predator.” geto mumbles from the arm chair in the living room, a ratty old green thing that’s covered in claw marks and has dangling strings from every angle on it. “i was probably high when i saw it, man.”

“as is the only way to see it the first time.” gojo concludes, nodding sagely as the sound of soft pops plays as background noise. “but you’re also probably bailing halfway through, aren’t you?”

the aforementioned male nods his head, bangs drooping into and then away from his face as he leans his head back onto the armchair’s back to look at his roommate. “yeah, got a study session with that hot chick from economics.”

“fuck yes, study session with that hot chick from economics!” gojo cheers, arms going up to ‘raise the roof’ and doing little spins in his spot as the microwave announces the popcorn is done. “we’ll be here, meriting the debate of alien or predator. don’t miss us too much.”

“i absolutely never miss you.”

“oh you big liar, i know it’s hard to express your feelings in front of people other than me, so i’ll excuse it for now.” the white-haired male shakes his head and pulls the popcorn out, shaking it and pulling on two corners to open the buttery goodness. “but, our guest, please feel free to sit wherever you like, except for the fire escape because it’s definitely not up to code and i can’t go to jail yet.”

“yet?” you parrot, making your way into the apartment without your shoes on and just a pair of socks, sliding slightly on the laminate flooring. “you’re leaving during alien predator? that has to be some sort of blasphemy.” you direct your last question towards geto now, sitting on the couch and crossing your legs underneath each other.

“i’m considered a heretic now.” he says, leaning over conspiratorially and cupping a hand over his mouth so gojo can’t hear it. “but he likes me too much to disown me, yet.”

“i’ve disowned you at least four times in the last week alone.” gojo says now, coming in between where you and geto had been conspiring and sits on the empty spot of the couch. he’s closer now, obviously, but gojo satoru is in your space and it gives you a second to recollect your breathing. “start the movie so you can at least watch someone die before you leave.”

gojo’s sitting close enough to you that you can feel his body heat radiating towards you now. it might be because of the cold weather outside, but you swear he’s like a radiator. geto is fiddling with the laptop connected to the television with an hdmi cord, so gojo turns to you and all of a sudden, it feels as if it’s only the two of you in the room.

“come here often?” he says while throwing popcorn in his mouth and chewing lazily. he’s got an easy going grin on his face and he leans towards you, arm resting on the back of the couch, but it feels as if he’s resting it around your shoulders.

you shrug, leaning your head back to knock against his arm gently and he tugs on a strand of your hair. it’s oddly intimate and it makes your legs tighten. “only for guys obsessed with alien versus predator, i guess.”

"thank god there's only one of those on campus." geto says it under his breath, avoiding eye contact with gojo as he wipes fake sweat from his brow. "sorry for you that it's gojo satoru."

"if i were any girl on campus, i'd be floored to know gojo likes alien versus predator." you snort, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth. you remember at the last second that it's rude to eat with your mouth open, so you swallow before you finish your thought. "half the campus wants to sleep with him, the other half seems to have already done it."

while it was at gojo's expense, you had imagined your joke would have merited a laugh or at least a pity chuckle, but instead, gojo and geto share a look. the charged energy that passes between the two of them isn't lost on you, but you don't know what it is that it could mean. you're worried that it means that maybe you were right on your first overall assessment of him and your avoidance of him wasn't untoward—maybe gojo satoru is just a playboy that can't take a joke.

geto shakes his head, leaning forward and pressing his palms into his thighs as he gets up, as if he were leaving a family function that's definitely gone on for too long and finally wants to go home. "well, i have to go meet up with that hot chick from econ, and maybe even learn her name. so i'm going to leave you two here to enjoy aliens and predators. i will be gone all night, do with that what you will."

the feeling of dread begins to sink into your skin. you thought gojo had invited you here tonight because the two of you had made some sort of connection that went above him wanting to sleep with you. geto's crude and offhanded remark makes it seem as if gojo had intended for you to sleep with him, and while you would've when you first came, the thought that the only reason he invited you over was to sleep with you makes you rescind the idea immediately.

you were stupid to think that maybe you could ‘figure him out’, to think that maybe things could be different than what you’d heard about.

geto's out of the door and it's shutting soundly when you turn to gojo, clear disbelief in your eyes if the apologetic hands in front of him are to mean anything.

"this isn't what you think it is." gojo says.

you seethe under your skin. "and what, pray tell, do you think i think it is?"

he gives you an awkward, fucking endearing, smile. "that i invited you over with the excuse to watch a movie but i really only wanted to fuck?"

bingo.

"is that why you invited me tonight?" your eyebrows furrow together as you begin to scooch as far into the couch arm as you can, granted it isn't very far away from gojo.

he sighs. "no, i just wanted to watch aliens versus predator with you."

"okay, so why did your roommate have to mention that he was going to be gone all night. feels a bit weird if all we're doing is watching a movie, doesn't it?" you tighten your lips into a line, raising your eyebrow and punctuating the end of your interrogation with a sharp tilt of your head.

gojo drops his gaze from yours, looking at the television where someone is getting gored by the alien. you image it's gojo in your head unapologetically. "i didn't anticipate us sleeping together, no. i might have mentioned to geto, though, that i wouldn't hate the idea of it."

"'wouldn't hate the idea of it'?" you echo, hands coming up to put air quotes around his statement. " that's fucking rich considering you fuck anything on two legs, but when it comes to sleeping with me, you would just tolerate it."

you move to get off the couch, legs unfurling from under you and your hands pressing into the soft cushiony feeling when you feel gojo's hand wrap around your bicep. "wait! that's not what i meant, i wouldn't just tolerate sleeping with you!"

"okay, so what the fuck do you mean, gojo, 'cause from where i'm standing, all i'm seeing is you being an inconsiderate asshole." you want to pull your arm from his grasp but he's got a firm hold on you—not tight enough to hurt or bruise you, but strong enough to keep you in place. if it weren't to keep you from bolting from his apartment for bruising your ego, you'd think it send fireworks in your belly.

"you don't understand." he says, looking up at you now and seeing that he's battling with what he's saying and what he really means.

you sigh, deeply, because you have an inkling of feelings for him and you want to know if what he truly meant was just to hurt you, or if there's something else to what he said. "so help me understand."

gojo stands, hands twisting and turning with each other and he begins to pace around the small space in front of the couch and the television. "so, i know that i have a reputation for being, like, this douche who just sleeps with anything with a pulse, and honestly it never really bothered me before."

you're silent, letting him continue with what he's saying and hoping he won't lose his nerve before he finishes.

"what geto was saying was some stupid joke because i had said something earlier about how you were really pretty and i thought i might actually have a chance to take you on a date sometime because i thought that we were vibing really well." he rambles, shaking his head at himself. "but he said it in a stupid way, and i didn't just invite you over to sleep with me, because i've never ever done that before! i've never invited anyone over before to watch a movie and hoping that they’ll just spontaneously wanna fuck."

"you've never netflix and chill'd someone before?" you say it incredulously because even as you say it outloud, it feels like something you've lied about. "never?"

he says your name softly, kneeling in front of you with your hands in his as he gives you a grim face. "i've never even fucked anyone before."

this revelation feels like a very bold-faced lie. a preposterous, almost presumptuous lie that only the likes of gojo satoru himself could try and pass off. you scoff, hands pulling away from his as you lean back into the couch, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

“wait!” he cries softly, hands falling to the couch as you pull your body away from him, attempting to go around him but freezing at his outburst. “i mean it, i’m still a virgin.”

“what the fuck?” spills from your mouth before you can think to filter yourself, but you’re just flabbergasted at this point. your brows have never been more furrowed but you’re rubbing at your head as you shake it. “you do realize half the campus has said they’ve slept with you, right?”

one of his shoulders comes up in a defeated half-shrug. “yeah, it started when i was a freshman. one girl got mad i didn’t sleep with her, but she said i had anyways. from there, it just snowballed.”

“why didn’t you deny it?”

he collapses now, falling from his kneeling position to sit on his ass, hands holding up his weight behind him. “what’s the point? either people believe me and then i’m weird for not sleeping with someone, or people don’t believe me and i’m called a liar.”

“don’t you want to get back at that girl for lying?” you tilt your head to the side, mouth still open slightly in disbelief. “i mean, it doesn’t bother you at all that she’s the reason people call you a whore?”

“whoa now,” his lips go from slack to an easygoing half smile, “i don’t know about whore but no, it doesn’t bother me. usually just means at parties i have to decline a lot of advances, but then again, i’d rather just avoid parties at that point.”

“so, like,” you pause, thinking of the words you’re trying to say and you’re momentarily mesmerized by the beauty of gojo, who’s just watching you quietly and waiting for you to gather yourself, “you’ve never… pee pee in vagina?”

his laugh sounds like little angels and you shift uncomfortably, realizing there’s a part of you that likes that he’s a virgin. that he hasn’t ever slept with anyone before, that there are parts of him that a single soul hasn’t ever seen. “that’s the gist of it, yeah.”

“do you want to change that?” the question is out of your mouth before you can think twice—an impulse that you hadn’t expected to need to curb, but when it’s out in the open, you realize that it’s exactly what you want to do.

you wanna take his virginity.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen gojo speechless before, because he was always talking—to geto, to some random girl, to you lately. he’s perpetually avoiding silence like it scared him, but this is the first time you’ve ever seen him actually at a loss for words. you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “wh-what? i though you got mad at me for inviting you over to fuck.”

you shrug. “i got mad ‘cause i thought you were being presumptuous by inviting me over for something ‘chill’ just to want to fuck.”

“shouldn’t i be offended that you found out i’m a virgin and now you want to fuck?” he raises an eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth is lifting.

“intensely offended.” you nod, watching him as he crawls back towards the couch, hand winding around your calf carefully. “are you? offended, i mean.”

gojo leans forward, pressing his lips lightly to your knee and it’s your turn to swallow thickly, mouth dry all of a sudden. “very. need you to make it up to me.”

you groan softly, leaning down to press your hand to his and your forehead knocks against his lightly. looking at him, his incredibly incandescent blue eyes that seem to see straight through all the fronts and walls you try to put up and nudge your nose against his. the position makes your neck ache but you can’t force yourself to move, too gravitated towards gojo. you can feel his breath fan across your mouth hotly and you can see his eyelashes fanning across his cheeks, though you’re grounded by the feeling of his hand’s warmth through your pants. “how?”

you can feel the way his hand shakes ever so slightly against your leg, can feel the way your muscles are spasming gently as he runs his hand up your leg, just barely touching you. his grip becomes firm again against the outside of your thigh, tilting his head up until your lips are millimeters away, practically breathing in each other's air.

"kiss me."

your lips crash against his with a fervor you hadn't realized you had in you. his lips are slightly dry, and the position is making your neck feel almost like it's about to fall off, but you couldn't think of a better kiss with him.

his hand flies from your thigh to cup the side of your face, the other one coming to rest on your waist as he pushes onto his knees, kneeling now between your legs. with you sitting on the couch and him kneeling, he's at the perfect height to ease the pain in your neck and to wrap your arms around his neck comfortably.

gojo pulls away from the kiss, but there's not even enough time to feel disappointed because he's already pressing your lips together again, this time with a bit of a slight opening. you take this as your chance to slide your tongue along his bottom lip, asking for permission to press deeper. you want to suck on his tongue, to feel him get hard from your kisses, to know gojo in a way that no one ever has before.

you've fucked before, and you've definitely had your fair share of disappointing experiences, so you want to make sure gojo's first time is better than—if not the best experience you could give him.

“bedroom?” he mutters against your mouth, moaning softly at the feeling of your tongue sweeping across his mouth again and you make a soft noise when he nips it gently with his teeth. “or couch?”

“do you want me to blow you on the couch or on the bed?” you ask back, hands roaming across his back and rucking up the ends of his shirt to feel his skin, smooth and warm. “‘cause i’m okay with either. want you to be comfortable.”

you can feel him shifting his weight around, and with a simple nudge of his hand on your thigh, you’re winding your legs around his waist. you’re not sure how he manages to stand from the position he’s in, but one minute you’re sitting on the couch, the next minute you’re in the air as gojo carries you towards his bedroom. your lips never leave his, and while he presses you against his bedroom door, hand fumbling with the knob, you bite his lip.

“oh god,” he whispers, eyes reverently roaming your face as he gets the door open, “i want you so bad, baby.”

opening the door, he walks you in the room and does a little bit of a spin, sitting down on the bed with you straddling his lap. he leans back on the bed, just looking at you. you’re not sure what he’s looking for, but you feel almost shy under his gaze, unused to the undivided attention.

“i want to kiss you.” he mumbles, cheeks all of a sudden getting rosy red and the sight of it makes your chest tighten—he’s so pretty. “but i also really want… you to blow me.”

“s’okay.” you respond, hands sliding down from his shoulders, across his chest and to his belt. you get up and maneuver yourself off of the bed, kneeling at the edge with your knees pressing into the plush carpet. “help me with the buckle, baby?”

“yes, mommy.” he breathes, hands immediately flying to his buckle and wiggling out of his jeans as fast as you think a person could get out of pants. the moniker he calls you sends a chill down your spine, unused to the term but not disliking it in any way. “is it— is it okay that i called you that?”

you nod, distracted by the bulge in gojo’s black underwear—large, twitching every so often, and you think you can see a dark spot right at his tip. it’s long, longer than you had been expecting, and it’s just girthy enough for you to wrap your whole hand around it. he bucks his hips into your hand, as if it was an impulse he couldn’t control, his own hand coming up to bite back the moan he can’t help but let out.

your eyes flicker to his, watching the way his rosy cheeks begin to spread, trailing to his chin and down his neck. his chest is heaving, as if every breath is a labor, and you can hear soft whimpers leaving his mouth every time you press your fingers firmly, or during the slow, agonizing strokes you’re giving his shaft.

you’re watching him unravel, and you’re practically salivating at the thought of his sounds when you finally wrap your mouth around him, much less when he’s finally inside of you.

freeing his cock from his boxers, you let the fabric pool at his ankles as you slot yourself between his legs further, watching him lean back and support his weight with a hand bunched in his comforter. "oh fuck."

stroking his shaft without the boxers in the way makes gojo's eyes roll to the back of his head, your skin smooth against his skin and your thumb rubbing gentle little circles on his tip. his cock has little veins running along the shaft and the tip is red, as if straining for something. "feels so fucking good."

there's a whine that's in the back of his throat that makes your arousal pool in your panties, and you begin to move your hips side to side, as if trying to get any sort of friction to relieve yourself. you want to finger yourself, press your fingers to your clit and get rid of this aching need in your pussy, but your hands are busy with gojo's cock, holding it steady as you flatten your tongue.

pressing the flat of your tongue against the underside of his cock, you relish the sound of desperation, of need, that gojo makes. it sounds halfway between a whimper and a moan, and it makes you swirl your tongue around his tip just to see if you can get another sound out of him.

"holy shit."

his hand is in your hair now, pushing the strands that had fallen into your face and moving them out of your way. he holds your hair loosely at the base of your neck and when you meet his gaze, he's biting his lip and groaning softly. his eyes are lidded, drowsy with lust and need, and it looks as if he's shaking, as if from the tension it takes to hold back from bucking his cock all the way into your mouth.

hallowing your cheeks, you push yourself up to sit on your heels and take as much of gojo's lengthy cock into your mouth, relaxing as much as you can to take him even further until he's hitting the back of your throat and then some. there are tears now, streaming down your face and gojo looks almost as if he's enjoying the sight of them, of his cock down your throat and tears pooling in your eyes.

pulling back until just the tip of his dick is in your mouth, you let your hand rub the parts of him that your mouth couldn't reach. gojo lets his head fall back, neck exposed to the ceiling as he moans wantonly. his grip tightens on your hair, making your pull back just a bit further and scrape your teeth against him by accident. he flinches, but then lets go of your hair to pull you off his cock fully.

"holy fuck, i think i was about to come." he mutters, breathless and chest rising and falling rapidly as he looks at you, hair disheveled and messed up. "i didn't wanna come before i got to fuck you."

in no time, you're both shedding your clothes and making out on the bed again, this time he's hovering over you while you wind your arms around his neck. you're nipping gently at his lips, relishing the nervous and tentative way he's touching you—as if, if he touches you wrong, you'll disappear from underneath him.

his hands are shaking, cupping your breasts and thumbing your nipples. pushing your chest into his hand, you moan and nod fervently when he gives you a look for approval.

"d'you wanna fuck me, gojo?" you whisper, pressing your lips wetly against his neck.

he whines, hand fisting the sheets until his knuckles turn white and he rubs his cock against the wetness of your cunt, slippery with your arousal. "call me by my first name."

you blink, surprised by his need for intimacy, but you're not one to deny him what he wants right now, the need for his cock too deeply ingrained in your brain at t his moment in time. his cock glides across your pussy again, rubbing against your clit and your moans come out breathless. "satoru, please, please fuck me."

and you're smart, you should've asked him to put a condom on to protect yourself just in case anything happens, but he's a virgin. he's never fucked anyone in his life, so there's no way he's got an std or anything, and you've been on the pill since you were young, so the thought of pregnant doesn't cross your mind. the only thing that crosses your mind is that you're about to have gojo satoru's cock in you and you want to relish every sound he makes when he finally, finally fucks you.

holding his shaft, he lines up his reddening tip to your cunt, hips stuttering as he begins to push himself into you. his face is twisted in what seems to be both pleasure and agony, but you're pretty sure it's because he's holding himself back for you, not wanting to rush his first time.

"you're so fucking—" his voice is coming out high, almost to the point of a whine as he groans at the feeling of his cock disappearing inside of you, and if you weren't so focused on leaving crescent indents in his skin, you think you'd be on the same page as him. "you're so fucking soft, a-and tight, mommy."

with every whimper, every soft reverent murmur of your name, you tighten your thighs, clenching around his cock as he fucks you. there’s not a rhythm to his thrusts, nothing to focus on and meet his hips with, since he’s a man reborn. now that he’s found what his salvation feels like, he’s just chasing his high. he tries to lean back his head, as if wanting to watch his cock slide in and out of your pussy. gojo’s hips hit yours with every thrust, the sharp angle of his hip bone leaving a grounding sort of pain on your thigh.

there’s a moment when you swear you can see stars and all you can think is ‘this man was a virgin thirty minutes ago’ because he’s got you desperately close to your climax.

“s-sator-ru!”

his name on your lips as you come, tightening your pussy around his dick and clawing at his back as he throttles you off of the edge, seems to set him over the edge, too. his hips stutter, body shaking as he comes in you—so much for not rushing his first time.

he falls now, letting his arms stop holding up his weight as he lets himself relax fully on your body and heaving in your ear. it’s not exactly romantic, but you enjoy running your hands along his sides to watch him twitch back and forth. his cock is twitching inside of you, fully spending itself of its first orgasm inside another person and you’re satisfied at his soft moan when you tighten your pussy one last time.

“i tried..” he whispers, mouth turning towards your neck and tickling you with every word he forms, “holding out, but i had to come. felt too good not to.”

“s’okay,” you whisper back, afraid to break the spell of closeness by speaking at a normal volume, “you’ll last longer next time.”

there’s an unspoken ‘with someone else’ that you can’t bear to say, knowing that perhaps this is just a one and done thing. something you’d done on a whim and perhaps, he had, too. perhaps this was just the easiest way for him to get laid, and you were more than happy to provide.

“gimme a minute.” he kisses your neck sloppily—too gentle. “i’ll clean up in a minute. need to catch my breath.”

you roll your eyes. hooking your legs around his ass, you turn your head to press a kiss to his temple—too intimate. “take all the time you need.”

he hums, eyelashes fluttering shut as his breathing begins to even—too pretty. you’re worried this might be the last time you see him so peacefully, and instead of worrying about later—later tonight, later tomorrow—you let your eyes close, too.

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miss-starryeyes · 1 year ago

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Ci Wo | Grant Me | Lyrics

youtube

mǎn chéng sheng gē céng jīng dǐng fèi guò rén hǎi

满城笙歌曾经鼎沸过人海，

This city once flowed with a sea of people, an ocean of song.

huā zhī yǔ jiàn bèi gong fèng yú gāo tái

花枝与剑被供奉于高台，

The flowering branch and sword were worshiped on the high altar.

ruò cóng wàn rén zhī shàng dié luò zhì chén āi

若从万人之上跌落至尘埃，

If you, ten-thousand times beloved, fell hard into the dust,

shéi hái huì qián chéng mó bài

谁还会虔诚膜拜。

Who would still worship you devoutly?

🌸

jì yè huāng hún zì mò lù kuǎn kuǎn ér lái

寂夜荒魂自陌路款款而来，

A stranger comes on a lonely night, with sincerity towards a desolate soul.

wān dāo yǔ dié qīng wěn guò zuì qī yàn cán hái

弯刀与蝶轻吻过最凄艳残骸，

The scimitar and butterfly kiss the loveliest and most sorrowful of remains.

ruò zài yī shùn guāng yīn bèi wēn róu yǐ dài

若在一瞬光阴被温柔以待，

If one was treated with kindness for just a moment,

shéi huì zhí dé fù tang dǎo huǒ xiāng ài

谁会值得，赴汤蹈火相爱。

Who would go through water and tread upon fire, enduring for the sake of love?

🌸

cì yǔ wǒ zhū miè shén mó suǒ xiàng pī mí de jié jú

赐予我诛灭神魔，所向披靡的结局，

Grant me the strength to end both gods and demons,

zài zhǎn zhuǎn duō qíng rén jiān yī chéng yī chéng xiāng yù

再辗转多情人间，一程一程相遇。

To meet you no matter how you wander this world.

cì yǔ wǒ jué jìng féng shēng shàng tiān rù dì bǎi wú jìn jì

赐予我绝境逢生，上天入地，百无禁忌，

Grant me life in desperation, to ascend to heaven or fall to hell; may all taboos be shattered,

hái yǒu zhè xīn jīng dòng yáo de yǒng qì

还有这心旌动摇的勇气。

With the courage to never rest in peace.

🌸

yī lì yān yǔ diān pèi zài lún huí zhī wài

一笠烟雨颠沛在轮回之外，

A bamboo hat is troubled by the rains, passed over by both life and death.

yī bǐng zhǐ sǎn jiàn zhèng guò zuì fěi cè huā kāi

一柄纸伞见证过最悱恻花开，

A paper umbrella bears witness to the most sorrowful of flowers, wishing but unable to speak.

shì jiān fēng guāng bǎi dài huò bǎi guǐ qí āi

世间风光百代，或百鬼齐哀

A hundred generations of this world, hundreds of ghosts mourn together,

shéi dōu bù kěn zuì sheng mèng sǐ wàng huái

谁都不肯，醉生梦死忘怀。

Who can refuse to forget the drunken dreams of the past?

🌸

cì yǔ wǒ zhū miè shén mó suǒ xiàng pī mí de jié jú

赐予我诛灭神魔，所向披靡的结局，

Grant me the strength to end both gods and demons,

zài zhǎn zhuǎn duō qíng rén jiān yī chéng yī chéng xiāng yù

再辗转多情人间，一程一程相遇。

To meet you no matter how you wander this world.

cì yǔ wǒ jué jìng féng shēng zhuī suí ér qù bǎi wú jìn jì

赐予我绝境逢生，追随而去，百无禁忌，

Grant me life in desperation, to ascend to heaven or fall to hell; may all taboos be shattered,

hái yǒu zhè xīn jīng dòng yáo de yǒng qì

还有这心旌动摇的勇气。

With the courage to never rest in peace.

🌸

cì yǔ wǒ bù wàng qián chén bù huǐ jīn shēng de yī qiè

赐予我不忘前尘，不悔今生的一切，

Grant me to never forget the past, nor regret anything in this life,

jiù lián zhè zhū tiān shén míng dōu bù bì zài qǔ yuè

就连这诸天神明都不必再取悦。

To have no need of pleasing the heavenly gods any longer.

shàng yuán yè guò cháng jiē sān qiān huá dēng míng miè

上元夜，过长街，三千华灯明灭，

On Shangyuan Eve, three thousand lanterns will flicker across the long road,

fang fú rén jiān tiān shàng cóng wèi jué bié

仿佛人间天上，从未诀别。

As if heaven and earth never parted.

🌸

This translation is was done by consulting various dictionaries and machine translations. I'm pretty happy with it, but there were a few places where I was uncertain of the translation and had to use some context clues. Please let me know if you know of any improvements I could make; Mandarin is not my first language, and I am very much a beginner. Thank you!! 💜

#tgcf #translations #ci wo #tgcf audio drama #tian guan ci fu #heaven official’s blessing #translyrics #Youtube

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mountphoenixrp · 8 months ago

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We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Hades, the Greek God of the Underworld. He is currently unemployed.

FC NAME/GROUP: Leo - VIXX GOD NAME: Hades PANTHEON: Greek OCCUPATION: None at the moment HEIGHT: 187cm / 6'1ft DEFINING FEATURES: 2 tattoos: skeleton key on his right arm, bident down his spine.

PERSONALITY: Tired, is the first word that will leave Hades’ lips whenever someone asks him how he’s doing. And there’s some truth to that single word reply, but the fact is that he doesn’t quite knows how to put his feelings into words, even less with strangers. Hades can be considered what in modern times is called an introvert, and a loner, keeping mostly to himself and going through his day to day. If he doesn’t crosses paths with another living being throughout the day, he will consider it a good day.

This doesn’t means that he will push people away, or that he won’t help those in need, the world is mistaken when they claim Hades is a cruel and conceited God. He has a strong sense of justice that keeps him from looking away when things need to be set back into the right path. It might be quite a task to get him to open up, even more to befriend him, but once one manages to get on his good side, he can become quite a loyal and valuable friend.

HISTORY: Hades suffered a terrible upbringing alongside his siblings, when his Titan father swallowed them at birth, terrified of a prophecy claiming he would be dethroned. Fear that became a reality when the youngest one, Zeus, helped free them from the entrails of their father, and he, alongside his older brothers Hades and Poseidon, were able to cast away the Titan, and rule over the skies, the earth, the waters and underworld. Call it bad luck, or perhaps fate, but Hades ended up becoming the Ruler of the Underworld, King of the Death, Lord of Riches. His main responsibility, to make sure that those Souls that didn’t belong to the Mortal Realm anymore, found their way to the Realm Beyond they deserved to be, as well as keeping those dark forces lurking in the shadows from getting out and harming innocent humans.

His close connection with the dead, the lost souls and a taboo realm were soon to provoke a misunderstanding, Hades was claimed to be a cruel and evil God, worthy of being feared. This proved to be somewhat of a positive outcome for the God that was better of alone. This exile caused him to lose on many events happening on Earth, prevented him from taking sides on needless wars, and allowed him to continue fulfilling his duty of guiding souls through the Underworld.

Through the ages, Hades became a supporting character in other’s fabulous quests, finding himself in the middle of situations created by other Deities. He wasn’t above helping others that needed him, whenever he felt it was right, Hades has a strong Sense of Justice thus in his eyes there’s not an evil nor a good path, just a righteous one that shall be respected. Whether it was lending his own Divine Items, or punishing those that deserve it, Hades will intervene in a way that will bring the situation back to it’s rightful balance.

But now, long gone is the age of Gods, and the humans that once worshiped them have forgotten about them, believe now they were always just a myth. Unlike many of the others, Hades never needed humans’ belief and prayers to survive, and he continued to Rule over the Underworld and fulfill his duty through centuries, occasionally returning to Earth out of curiosity, but keeping his human interaction at minimum. Personal bonds have never being a priority of his, but it can become quite the lonely life. Hades is not sure when, or from who, did he hear about Mount Phoenix, the Island kept on popping up in conversations he eavesdropped, and after a long time in self isolation he decided to take the chance at as much of a normal life as someone like him could have.

Hades’ arrival to the Island was kept under wraps, he didn’t want any fanfare he strongly believes he’s not worthy of. Being almost a forgotten God means he is not familiar with many of the other Deities there are, but his objective regarding his life in the island is of slowly living a fulfilling life that is more than just what he was ( forcefully ) entrusted to him, even if he has never forgotten about his responsibility and continues to Rule over the Underworld, from a different location.

POWERS: Necromancy, control over the Underwold and its subjects, Immortality, Invisibility thanks to the Helm of Darkness, complete obedience from canidae. STRENGTHS: Patient, Responsible, Diligent, Strong sense of Justice. WEAKNESSES: Socially awkward, Humorless, Callous.

#kpop rp #krp #vixx #jung taekwoon #vixx leo #mp; welcome

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downondilaudid · 4 years ago

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Taboo Nightmare

Reader has an amazing one night stand with a stranger from a bar, only to regret her decision days later when she walks into class and realizes he’s her new professor.

LOOK AT ME, FINALLY posting. I am finally motivated.

Requested: No

Prompts: None

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: BASICALLY JUST SMUT, Penetrative Sex, Fingering, Degradation, Light Humiliation, Light Impact Play.

“Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.”

― Emery Allen

Your body felt warm with the alcohol coursing through your system. The bright club lights shimmered on your black sequin bodycon dress. The euphoria you were experiencing almost felt superficial, it was addicting.

Sweaty bodies mangled on the dance floor, you being one of them, grinding your hips against one of your close friends. To say you had dragged her to the club would be an understatement, she had practically kicked and screamed the whole way here. But now here you were, both relaxed and having the time of your lives.

From across the club, your eyes met with a man’s, his figure tall and dressed in a fitted blazer. He definitely didn’t look like he should be at a club. His features were almost unrecognizable in the low light, but his gaze was strong, strong enough to force you to look away. You turned to your friend, “I’m going to get another drink.” She nodded in understanding.

At first, you actually were headed to get a drink, standing near the bar, waiting to flag down the bartender, who seemed to be frantically running around to collect orders and mix drinks. The club was definitely understaffed tonight.

A presence could be felt beside you, and a flicker of hope rooted in the pit of your stomach, maybe you wouldn’t be going home alone tonight. You turned your head slightly, peering over at the man, and apparently, he had the same idea. You cleared your throat, wishing you could’ve guzzled more alcohol before the encounter. Too late now, “This doesn’t look like your scene” you pointed out, your voice raised to overpower the music.

The light hit his face, and all the breath in your body vanished, everything about him was perfect. You tried to memorize the way he looked before the light left his face. “It’s not” he responded, his voice was smooth yet punctuated. Just by the way he held himself you could tell he was an intelligent individual.

You couldn’t help the girlish giggle his words drew out of you, “then what are you doing here? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“I’m here with a friend.” He answered, before saying another sentence. Unfortunately for him, it was drowned out by the music, fortunately for you, it gave you the perfect opportunity to get him alone.

Your friend was long forgotten as soon as the words left your mouth, “It’s really hard to hear in here, do you want to step outside?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder, pointing to the door in case he couldn’t hear you.

He retreated a bit, almost surprised at your bold question. For a moment you thought you had made a mistake, only for his head to nod as he brushed past you, making his way to the exit. Quickly you followed after him, the sudden change in his mood making your head spin. Yet, you were still determined to regain the higher ground, you were the predator, he was the prey, even if he didn’t know it.

The cool night air brought you back to earth, your feet halting just in time to keep yourself from running right into the man’s back. At that point, you realized you still didn’t know his name, and here you were, outside, practically alone with him, despite the few wandering pedestrians.

He turned back around to face you, his face visible now, and dear god was it a sight. His eyes were a deep hazel, and you were sure every woman on the planet was envious of his perfectly plump pink lips. He was definitely older than you, probably by quite a few years, but that never bothered you “Spencer.”

Confusion dawned your face, your eyes widening with realization, that was his name. “Y/N” you introduced, right now the two of you were neutral, but you craved the higher ground. You wanted your name to tumble from his lips, and his large hands to wrap in your hair. His eyes scanned your body slowly, lingering on your exposed legs.

You raised your fingers, snapping to get his attention, “my eyes are up here” you teased. Spencer’s head snapped up to meet your eyes, a flustered look on his face. The sound of your laughter filled the cool night air, “it’s okay, I don't mind you staring at me.” You took a step closer to him, watching as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. “I’ve been staring at you all night.” He didn’t retreat from you, and you took it as a sign to let your hands run lightly up his chest. A burning desire ignited in your stomach as he flinched at your touch.

“A-are you sure about this? You’re a lot younger than me.” He stumbled over his words, his body subconsciously leaning into your touch.

“I like my men older.” Your hands drifted south, fingertips dipping into the hem of his slacks. Spencer’s hands shot out, wrapping around your wrists, yanking them away from his body. With a quick tug, he had you pulled flush against him, his warm breath fanning over your ear.

With every slightly ragged breath he took, his chest rubbed against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, this was the exact reason you always went for older men. Guys your age were so boring, and inexperienced. But, this man would take his time with you, he would let his primal urges take over, he would absolutely break you. And that’s exactly what you wanted, and you knew every card to play to get what you wanted.

“You think you’re so cute? Acting like you’re the one in charge? I’m not even sure you could handle me.” Every perfectly punctuated syllable he spoke sent shockwaves to your core.

An inhale of the cold night air stuck in your throat, a sharp contrast to the warm body pressed up against you. “Funny” you began, yanking your wrists free from his grip, “I think you’re the one that can’t handle me.” It was exhilarating to see Spencer’s eyes darken with desire, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. His hands found a vice grip on your arms, pulling you from your dazed state. Whether it was the alcohol or lust that was clouding your mind, you didn’t know.

“I’m giving you one last chance to turn around, and pretend like this never happened.” If you weren’t so ready for this man to fuck you, you would say his statement was almost thoughtful. But, that was not you, some strange fate had brought the two of you together, and who would you be to pass up an opportunity like that?

There was no stopping the smile that wormed its way onto your face. You steadied yourself by latching your hands onto his forearms, now happy that you had worn heels. Your eyes locked on his, greedily enjoying the sight of his perfectly sculpted face as you spoke “not a chance in hell.” Just like that you were being roughly pulled to the parking lot of the club, and into the car of a stranger. You were very much aware that this man could be a serial killer for all you know, but who doesn’t make stupid decisions in college? The answer is girls without daddy issues.

The car ride was short, almost as if you had teleported to your destination. Which you assumed was Spencer’s apartment. His large hand had remained on your exposed thigh throughout the whole ride, his thumb rubbing teasing circles.

The second Spencer flicked on the light, and you closed the dark mahogany door, he was on you like a feral animal. His hands danced viciously up and down the curves of your body, his mouth moving in sync with yours. Your hands met his shoulder, fervently working to tear off his blazer. With every passing second, the heat coursing through your body became too much to bear. You just wanted to feel his smooth, warm skin against yours.

Air-filled your lungs as soon as you pulled away, the both of you panting for breath. His hands retreated from your body, beginning to unbutton his dress shirt. Taking the initiative, you reached for the zipper on the side of the dress, pulling it down slowly.

Spencer’s dark eyes scanned you like a hawk, seemingly memorizing your every move. The shimmering dress slipped from your shoulders, gliding over your hips with, surprisingly, little resistance. You could feel your nipples harden as the cool air kissed your skin, as the dress hadn’t required you to wear a bra. The fabric pooled at your feet, discarded as you stepped out of the circle of fabric.

A low grumble emitted from Spencer’s throat, he was clearly enjoying the show you were putting on for him. “See something you like?” You questioned, your voice seductively sweet.

“Definitely” he replied, his voice low and trickled with lust.

The two of you shared the same idea as you simultaneously took a step forward, closing the space. His mouth met yours in a frenzied kiss, the proximity causing your breasts to rub softly against his chest. Spencer trailed sloppy kisses down your neck, sucking softly here and there. A content sigh left your mouth, and your hands trailed up to tug on the hair at the nape of his neck.

Each kiss placed to your neck hit you straight in your core. It was times like these where you felt lucky to have daddy issues.

Spencer pulled back, his hands leaving your body to work on unbuckling his belt. You looked up, your eyes meeting his as he finished unbuckling the belt.

A smirk tugged at the corners of your lips, so far, Spencer’s actions hadn’t matched his words. Nothing he had done was rough or teasing. Luckily, you knew exactly how to push him. “You know, you’re all bark and no bite.” You pulled the belt from his pants, letting it clatter to the floor.

His arms crossed defensively over his chest, perfectly accentuating his biceps. “Really, you think so?” His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed as if mocking you.

Here we go. “Mhm,” you hummed. You spun on your heel, leaning down to pick up your discarded dress. “If you’re not going to fuck me like you said you would, I’m going to leave. You’re just wasting my time.”

You rose back up just in time to see Spencer rush forward, his hands meeting your shoulders. With a shove your back hit the wall, a huff escaping your lips from the impact. Before you could blink his large hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing lightly on the sides. His grip allowed him to angle your head up, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

His hair fell in his face, just above his eyebrows. Even with the yellow lighting of his apartment, he looked gorgeous. “You want to know what I think?” He paused, his other hand leaving your shoulder to run his thumb over your bottom lip. “I think…” he paused again, shoving his thumb into your mouth.

Now we’re talking, this is exactly what you had wanted. Your lips wrapped around his thumb, your tongue swirling around it. “I think you’re a young naive girl, with unresolved daddy issues, who’s desperate for attention from any male she can pull.”

His words should’ve made you run for the hills. You should’ve grabbed your dress and left. But he was right, his words didn’t hurt, in fact, they had the opposite effect. Arousal flooded your core as you rubbed your thighs together to relieve some tension.

“Enlighten me, am I right?” He pulled his thumb from your mouth, wiping the excess spit on your chin. You nodded, you felt like you were addicted to his every move, every intake of breath. His hand around your neck tightened, shocking you back to reality. “Am I right?” He growled, his voice slightly more punctuated than usual.

“Yes, yes, you’re right.” your voice cracked as his hand that was in your mouth began a slow trail down your stomach, running along the hem of your panties. Spencer leaned forward, his mouth resting next to your ear. “How desperate are you?” He whispered, drawing a light whine from your lips.

Your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, trying to pull his hand to your core. “Please,” his hand dipped into the waistband of your underwear, fingertips trailing lightly over your folds.

The hand around your neck loosened its grip, allowing more air to flow into your lungs. Still, you felt suffocated, the pure lust clouding your mind and body. “Not so confident now, hm?”

Usually, this is the time where you would push back and take control, and show them you’re more than a pretty face. But that's not what Spencer was looking for, he wanted to watch you beg for him. So you would play nice, and give him that, as long as he gave you what you wanted.

You bit down on your bottom lip, shaking your head coyly. Spencer mimicked your action, his teeth dragging along his bottom lip. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes! Just fu-” you huffed, restraining yourself from acting out. “Just do something, please?” It was a well-balanced mixture between begging and demanding. You were obviously desperate, but you pleaded politely.

As if your pleading wasn’t enough already, you allowed your lips to pull into a pout, your eyes rounder than usual as you stared up at Spencer. “Since you asked so nicely” he replied, his fingers finally finding solace at your core, rubbing slow circles against your bundle of nerves.

Every moment of buildup was absolutely worth it as his fingers played you like a fiddle. Your mouth fell open, a low moan escaping your lips. “Spencer, fuck!”

“Look at you,” Spencer spat, his fingers moving down to your entrance. “Making a mess all over my hand.” Two of his long fingers entered you, crooking slightly. Your hand fell from his wrist, nails coming up to scratch back down his chest.

“Harder, fuck!” This is exactly what you wanted, his hands on your body, in your body, ravishing you. He obliged your request, the obscene sound of skin smacking against skin filling the room. Porn-worthy moans left your lips as his fingers curled more, rubbing perfectly against your dimpled patch of skin.

Your back arched off the wall, and your chest heaved with pants. If you wanted to keep your submissive control you would have to control yourself. It was hard to do with Spencer’s perfect fingers buried in your cunt, his other hand wrapped tightly around your neck, varying in pressure.

You lapped up every ounce of pleasure Spencer gave you. The feeling was addicting, your head clouded and free of external worries, as your eyes fluttered shut, lost in bliss. Your hips ground onto his hand as your orgasm approached.

The hand dancing on your windpipe retreated, quickly grabbing onto the sides of your face, forcing your lips into a pout. Your eyes snapped open, met with Spencer’s dark ones. “Look at me while you cum” his fingers worked faster, his wrist angling with every thrust so his palm would rub deliciously against your clit. “A man you just met, who you blindly followed into a car. How ignorant can you be? I guess it makes sense, you’re just another whore desperate for the validation of a man.”

His taunting words sent you barreling into your orgasm, screaming out his name over and over again. Your thighs clamped onto his hand, entrapping it between your legs. Spencer’s hand released your face, allowing your head to fall forward to rest against his chest. His free hand wrapped around your body, viciously digging into your ass.

Once your thighs relaxed, Spencer pulled his hand from your cunt, quick to bring them up to your mouth. “Open.” Your jaw fell open, allowing him to push his digits into your mouth. Immediately you alternated between sucking them and swirling your tongue around them, tasting yourself.

But your time together was rudely interrupted by a ringing that buzzed through the air, and you began to look around for the source of the sound. Your eyelids grew overwhelmingly heavy, and the scene around you became distorted, the colors swirling together. Finally, your body succumbed to the tiredness, allowing your eyes to shut and the ringing to fade.

When your eyes opened you were no longer in Spencer’s apartment, but your own dorm. Shit. You had slept through your alarm, too busy dreaming about your most recent one night stand.

Leave it to you to fuck up first impressions. Which is why you were speed walking to class in a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You no doubt looked like you had just rolled out of bed, but I mean, you had.

Criminology honestly wasn’t something you needed to take, it was more for fun. It had piqued your interest. You had a hatred for all things school-related, and you thought, maybe if you took more interesting classes, you would be more motivated to do your schoolwork. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful, your parents graciously decided to pay for your college. School was just something that was always difficult for you, and if you couldn’t meet everyone’s standards, what was the point in trying?

Money had never really been a problem for you growing up, and you were known to have a “bratty streak.” But, you tried your hardest to be humble, you knew your family was very fortunate to live the lifestyle they do. Sometimes, though, it could get the best of you, it was your biggest flaw, but at least you were self-aware.

You had really wanted to make a good impression, despite being the stereotypical “rich bitch,” you wanted to show there was more to you than miniskirts and sports cars.

You pushed open the dark wooden door slowly, trying not to disturb the lecture. At least you wouldn’t miss much, just the first half of the syllabus.

The professor turned to you, watching as you ducked your head, practically running up the auditorium and to the first open seat you saw. You hoped he would have resumed his lecture by the time you had set your stuff down, and picked up the syllabus off the table, but you were unlucky. His eyes were glued to you, you could feel them, and for the first time you looked up to see him.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Your eyes widened, and your jaw practically dropped to the floor, he seemed to reflect your look of astonishment. His hands frozen mid-air as if he was talking but suddenly stopped. There was no way, absolutely no way. How, how was this possible? What are the odds, what are the odds that your professor was Spencer, your most recent one night stand?

He stuttered like a deer in the headlights, his hands falling awkwardly to his sides. A hand from across the room shot up, and he immediately took the escape. “U-uh, yes?”

Your mind was reeling, how the hell had you fucked up this bad? What are the odds that your incredible one night stand turned out to be your professor?

Awkward couldn't even begin to describe the situation, and by the way Spencer’s body language shifted, you could tell he felt the same. His hands which usually flailed wildly while he spoke, stayed still at his sides, and his eyes looked anywhere but you.

By the time class was over, you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat, ready to bound out of the auditorium and switch classes. There was no way you could confront him, how are you supposed to, ‘oh, hey Spencer, how’s life? Still making girls come like crazy on your cock?’ Yeah, that definitely wouldn’t work.

You had already stuffed your laptop into your Louis Vuitton bag, pulling it over your shoulder. Students filed out of the room, and you prayed to every higher power that you disappeared into the crowd.

“Miss Y/N” fuck, if it were any other time, that phrase would be hot. You kept walking, in fact, you quickened your pace, and kept your eyes trained on the ground. “Miss Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?” His voice was louder this time and dripped with authority. Out of all people in the club, you picked your future professor! But, unfortunately for Spencer, you were known to be very stubborn, so you continued your way to the door, your pace picking up speed. You were sure you looked insane rushing to the door, pushing through the crowd of students.

You looked up, body coming to a halt just in time to keep yourself from crashing into the back of a large man. You tried to say excuse me, and push past him, but he was like a giant brick wall, planted right in front of the door. There was no way for you to look around him and even see why he had stopped in the doorway like a fucking idiot.

A hand wrapped around your arm, grabbing your attention, and the sight was like something from a taboo nightmare. Spencer let go of your arm quickly, probably realizing how unprofessional it would look to the other students. “Stay behind for a moment, we need to talk.”

Snickers coursed around you, there was absolutely no way you were ever going to live this down. Hopefully, the other students thought he was apprehending you for being late, you couldn’t exactly explain how you unknowingly slept with your professor.

You followed Spencer back to his desk, standing politely to the side as the two of you awkwardly waited for the room to clear out. As soon as it did, your polite manner disappeared, and your hands met your hips as you shifted your weight onto one leg. “What the fuck?”

Spencer’s eyes widened at your language, his jaw falling open slightly. “You never told me you were a professor!” You exclaimed.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a defensive state taking over his body, “and you never told me you were a student!”

“I didn’t think it mattered! I’m twenty-four!!” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest with an eye roll.

Spencer turned, planting his hands on his desk, “ you’re also my student!”

You groaned, so far neither of you were solving the problem, “no shit, sherlock!”

Spencer’s head turned, sending you a sharp glare. You hated to say it but that would've been so hot if it weren’t for the fact he was your professor.

“Let’s just keep things professional.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “so just pretend it never happened?” It would be a hard task if he was going to dress in a suit like that every day. His tie was a deep maroon color, contrasting against his cream undershirt. His blazer fit his shoulders well, hugging his body perfectly, and all you wanted to do was tear it off.

“Yes, I’m not going to make you switch classes. Neither of us knew, it would be unfair for me to punish you.” Spencer stated, pulling himself back from the desk to face you.

You shifted slightly at the word punish, who the hell uses the word punish in a non-sexual context? Biting your lip, you tried your hardest to suppress a giggle, it was just so hard. A giggle escaped your mouth, your hand flying up to cover your mouth.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, visibly confused by your outburst. “T-there’s no way you just said the word ‘punish’ in a non-sexual context,” you said between giggles.

Just then a ringing sounded through the room, cutting off your laughter. Spencer glanced at his phone, picking it up quickly, obviously seeking escape from you.

You spun on your heel, taking it as your cue to leave. Right as you approached the door Spencer called out your name, halting you. “Please put on some more appropriate clothing before coming to class.”

A smirk tugged at your lips, deep down you knew this wasn’t over. Especially not after that line, and while walking out the door you made sure to sway your hips a little more than usual.

The next few criminology classes you attended, you behaved like a good little girl. But, slowly, your clothing dwindled, until you had walked into class in a plaid pleated skirt and a cropped tank, the perfect schoolgirl. Now, this wasn’t your only tactic, from what you gathered over the few classes you experienced, nothing peeved Spencer like false factoids. Which you made sure to quote, as long as the numbers were off by one or two points.

Usually, Spencer would have no problem correcting people, but it was different when you were correcting him. Today was like any other, you felt his eyes on you as soon as you walked in the door. Yet you refused to give him the time of day, innocently talking to your friend as you took your seats. You were clad in a skirt, and an old band shirt you had cropped. The outfit seemed perfectly normal for someone your age, unless you counted the fact that the shirt was short enough to expose the bottom half of your lace black bralette.

The lecture began like any other, and you absentmindedly listened for the perfect time to cut in. You had been interested in the class in the beginning, but as always, your focus shifted on Spencer. The way his large hands moved when he spoke, and how he dug his teeth into his bottom lip. You were sure half the people in the class were just there to admire Spencer, I mean, can you blame them? Have you seen the man? He’s the definition of perfection.

Your hand shot up in the air, the corners of your mouth upturned in a slight smirk. You could practically see the dread in Spencer's eyes, his shoulders drooping slightly. “Yes?”

“Can you repeat that one more time?” You questioned, pulling your laptop in front of your body, as if ready to type.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed slightly, scanning you. “Oh, you don’t need to write it down.”

You looked up from your computer, feigning an innocent look as your head tilted slightly, “it sounded pretty important.”

He shoved his pockets, letting out a slight huff, “then maybe you should’ve paid more attention.” With that he continued his lecture, leaving you smirking to yourself. You were definitely getting under his skin.

You slid your computer into your bag, pulling it over your shoulder. For the first time, you initiated eye contact, turning to look at Spencer, only to find him glaring daggers at you. God, you were really in for it.

An innocent smile took over your face, deciding to push him just a bit further, you raised your hand giving him a teasing wave. If possible, his eyes got darker, and his arms crossed over his chest. His button-down was rolled up his arms, leaving his perfect veins on display.

His arms unfolded, one of his hands motioning you towards him. Who would you be to ignore him? You bounded down the stairs, anticipation winding in your stomach. You stopped at the bottom of the stairs, watching as the last group of students walked out of the door.

Your body shifted towards Spencer, “what's up?” You asked.

He scoffed, shaking his head in astonishment, “what do you want from me?”

A sickly sweet smile curled onto your face as you took a few steps closer to Spencer, like a lioness circling her prey. “I’m pretty sure you know what I want Dr. Reid.” With another couple slow steps forward you were within a foot of Spencer. “You’re a smart cookie.”

The corners of Spencer’s mouth twitched into a smirk, mimicking your own. His arm shot out, wrapping swiftly around your elbow, and with one sharp tug, you were chest to chest with Spencer.

His hot breath hit your ear with the new proximity, “correct me if I’m wrong. You want me to bend you over my desk, hike up your pathetic excuse of a skirt, and fuck you until you’re shaking around my cock?”

Someone needed to call the firefighters, because it was getting hot in there. Your mouth fell open in a delirious smile. “I don’t think I’m the only one here who wants that.” You ran a hand down his chest, continuing its trail till it stopped to rest over the slight bulge in his slacks.

Spencer let out a light groan at your touch, “you’re my student.” He protested.

“You’re not pushing me away, professor.”

At first, the only sign he gave you that you had won him over was his tongue poking out to wet his lips. But, quickly, using the hand on your elbow as leverage, he spun you around, shoving you face-first into his desk.

The impact caused you to let out a sharp yelp, your breasts squished harshly against the desk, the wood pressing hard into the top of your thighs. “How taboo, professor, fucking your bratty student over your desk.”

His hand tangled in the roots of your hair, pulling your head back slightly, so you were facing the auditorium. He leaned over you, his breath hitting your ear, and his now noticeable bulge rubbing against your ass. “You think I’m just going to fuck you? A pathetic whore like you doesn’t deserve my cock.”

His words pulled a giggle from your lips, quick to remind him, “well, you already have.”

You wanted to push him to the edge, you craved to feel the anger coursing through him as he pounded you into the desk. He let out a huff, the smooth skin of his hands brushing against your backside as he hiked up your skirt, exposing your ass. A laugh sounded through the air, and he hooked a finger in the lace fabric of your black thong, pulling lightly and letting it snap back against your skin. “Did you wear this just for me?”

“Would you want me to?” You could tell your snide comments were irking him, as his hands ran over your smooth skin, gripping harshly at your ass.

His hands left your skin, and the rustling of fabric could be heard behind you. “Open your mouth.” Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, still, you obeyed, letting your jaw fall open. Fabric filled your mouth as he pulled his tie around your head as a makeshift gag, working to knot the two ends behind you. A muffled protest left your mouth, and you attempted to push yourself from the desk.

But, Spencer had other plans, one of his palms fell to the small of your back, pushing you firmly back against the desk. “I’m tired of your backtalk, you’ll speak when spoken to. Understand?”

You nodded your head against the desk, but that wasn’t what he wanted, as he spoke again, “do you understand?” His voice was sharp and enunciated, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t around you.

“Yeth thir” you garbled through the tie, the pure humiliation of your distorted voice causing a flush to cover your cheeks.

Spencer hummed lightly, “what a pretty sound, almost as pretty as this one.” Once again you were left confused, the answer coming in the form of a swift smack as his hand collided with your ass. Your body lurched forward against the desk, a muffled scream leaving your mouth.

“Thank me, sweetheart. You’re lucky I’m even touching you.” Spencer growled out, before his hand came crashing down again against your backside. It was harsh and painful, yet you didn’t want him to stop. You were sure it must’ve hurt his hand, you know it would hurt yours.

“Thank you, thir.” The tie was warm in from your hot breath, and you could feel spit starting to trail out the corners of your mouth. Never in your life could the term hot mess be so accurate.

Spencer continued his assault on your ass, again and again, leaving your skin red hot and burning. Each time you thanked him, and each time your speech became more and more pathetic as you squirmed against the desk. The overwhelming desire getting the best of you.

His finger hooked in your underwear, this time pulling them to the side. His long digits parted your slick folds. “Maybe I will fuck you, not sure if I’ll let you cum though.” He thought aloud.

You whined at his words, stretching out against the desk to push your ass back towards him, longing for more friction. The action caused his fingers to run deliciously over your clit, eliciting a low moan from your mouth.

“Pleath, pleath fuck me.” It was crazy how quick he could break down your resolve, no longer fighting, but rather eagerly submitting to him.

His touch left your body, the glorious sound of clinking metal and rustling clothes following his retreat. “You’re lucky you’re such a pretty whore.” One of his hands met the side of your hip, the other reached up to grab a hold of your hair. The head of his cock pushed past your folds as he sheathed himself inside you.

The sounds and curses you released were muffled by the tie, Spencer pulled back almost completely, before slamming back into you. The feeling of his warm cock plunging in and out of you was incredible, and you were sure he felt the same, as he let out low moans behind you.

With each thrust his hips smacked against your sore ass, adding to the redness. The hand buried in your hair began to yank you back in time with his thrusts. “Is this what you wanted? For me to bury my cock in you? For me to punish you?”

You attempted to answer, but all that came out was a screech. His hand left your hair, letting the top half of your body collapse onto the desk. He used both hands to grab your hips, pulling you up as he thrusted, the new angle allowed him to brush against your g-spot. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and your jaw clenched, teeth baring down on the tie.

It was times like these that made you question whether or not you were a sex addict. Because the feeling of being filled was completely intoxicating, you never wanted it to end. “You know, you’re a very smart girl. Maybe if you thought with your head more, and not your cunt, you would do better in my class.”

Well, it was hard to pay any attention when your professor was Spencer fucking Reid. He laughed behind you, “but you can’t do that, can you? You’re so desperate for cock, that you purposely corrected me with false information so you could get a rise out of me.”

Your body had devolved to a moaning mess, and you squirmed unceremoniously against the desk. You could feel your orgasm threatening to overtake you from the telltale signs of your legs beginning to shake under you, and your hips rutting back against Spencer wildly.

“It worked, didn’t it? You got what you wanted? Because, now you’re here, cumming on my cock.”

Like magic, his words pulled your orgasm from your body. You sobbed into the tie, and your nails scratched against his desk. You barely registered Spencer pulling out behind you, groaning as ropes of his cum coated your ass.

Heavy breaths filled the room as the two of you came down from your orgasms. “You okay?” Spencer rasped. His hands came up to your head, fumbling with the knotted tie.

The tie slipped from your mouth, falling onto the desk. “Yeah,” your voice was equally as hoarse as his, if not more.

“Good,” he replied.

Your next class of Professor Reid’s you actually decided to pay attention and withhold your annoying commentary. Like always, the students began to file out when the class ended, yet you took your time. When the last student walked out you turned to Spencer, watching as his head tilted slightly. He was thinking, probably figuring out what you were trying to do. But, there was no need for that.

You walked to his desk, a genuine smile etched onto your face. “You up for lunch, Dr.Reid?”

His eyes narrowed at you, a light smile crossing his face, “just lunch?”

“Hmm… maybe more than lunch.” You giggled.

He turned picking up his satchel, and pulling it over his head, to rest across his body. “Only if you promise to be a good girl.” He said, taking a step towards you.

You pouted playfully at him, “I’m never good, doctor.” The statement caused the two of you to laugh, before you were off to a discreet lunch.

Tag list: @pinkdiamond1016 @gubler-squad @obsessed-with-spencerreid

#criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler #mgg fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader

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silversatin2105 · 3 years ago

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Shaman king: Hao meeting his queen

Hi I have taken a little bit of a break from writing Akina’s story just to do three parter ficlets, This one will cover him meeting his future wife and their first year together , In this I have decided to give her the name Usagi as suggested by one of my followers and she will be an Itako from the Patch tribe, If you like this content please drop it a like and reblog and if you don’t ignore it.

Shaman king: Hao meeting his queen

It was a new day for Usagi in Patch village, She knew that the shaman tournament was about to start as strange faces from all around the globe started to appear, She had been busy perfecting her skills and making sure she had plenty of trinkets to sell the newcomers, On that day the weather was nice and warm as she left the hut she shared with her carer.

“What a nice day” the red head remarked as she went down to the river side to collect water for her cooking as it was her turn to make breakfast, from her backpack she took a ceramic pot and filled it with water that she would use to make porridge for the youngsters, A task that she enjoyed.

As she prepared to carry the pot back to her hut she heard a commotion in the village centre, being the inquisitive type she approached the crowd, to her surprise was a big group of new shaman following a guy with long hair and star shaped earrings, “Who is that ?” she thought as she watched them walk on by, As soon as they went she was approached by Silva.

“I want you to stay away from that shaman Usagi” Silva warned in a strict tone as he gently guided her from the crowd and back up to her hut, Silva had been watching over Usagi ever since her parents were murdered just five years ago, the elder shaman helped her prepare breakfast, Usagi tried to clear her thoughts of the mysterious stranger but the more she tried to push it from her mind the more she wanted to know who he was.

“Breakfasts ready” Usagi called out to the youngsters as they all came out from where they were and took a seat at the central table, She busied herself serving out the porridge to each child before taking her own and sitting down at the table.

Before eating they thanked the great spirits for the food they were about to eat, a mark of respect to nature for providing another day of peace and equanimity, After breakfast she washed the dishes and got her stock ready to go into the village and sell them for money to pay for tomorrows set of meals.

By the time she arrived in the village centre it was 9 o’clock, She took out her goods and arranged them by type, first was the oracle bell accessories, second was a set of woven necklaces that she had spent most of last night finishing and lastly was the key rings and charms she had prepped a few days ago, when she was sure all looked right she took a seat and did her cash float.

“The store is open “ Usagi called out with enthusiasm, She served her first customer and did her usual customer service greetings, At that moment the mysterious figure she saw earlier approached her stall and browsed the collection of trinkets on offer, after a while he looked at Usagi picking up a pentacle necklace.

“How much for this ?” the figure asked with a kind smile looking over its craftsmanship, Usagi looked up at him and stood up clearing off her dress whilst looking at him with her amber shaded eyes.

“It will be 20 dollars, I also have a shaman tournament deal on that you will receive a lucky charm for 5 dollars” Usagi spoke out the price ready to haggle if she needed to as the price of that necklace and charm could feed the youngsters for two meals.

“Oh do I look like the type who needs a lucky charm? “ The figure questioned in a playful tone looking the girl in front of him up and down almost judging her every move and testing her resolve, Usagi just raised her eyebrow and looked at the stranger in front of her.

“Look it’s a deal we have ongoing at the moment and I think everyone participating will need some amount of luck, trust me I have looked into the history of past tournaments and lets just say its no game of red light/ green light” Usagi explained to the guy in front of her making him laugh in response he was amused by her concern for the contestants of the tournament.

“A ha I see well I don’t need it, I bring my own luck” The long haired shaman retorted looking at Usagi with a curt smirk, At that moment Usagi was getting frustrated with the strange shaman in front of her, She went to speak but he cut her off almost beating him to the punch.

“I will however buy the necklace and offer the five dollars as a satisfied customer” He spoke taking the money from his pocket giving it to her making her even more suspicious, Usagi crossed her arms at that moment looking at him.

“Why was there such a commotion surrounding you earlier?” Usagi questioned looking at him determined to get her answer, this guy had ticked her off and her curiosity from earlier had been quelled but not cured.

“Well you see the reason there was such a commotion earlier is that I will be the future king” the figure answered looking at the girl with a peaceful smile before going to leave her stall, Usagi was peeved at this to her this seemed like a mocking answer and overly confident at that.

“Don’t you think its conceited to crown yourself king before you’ve actually won the tournament, let me give you a piece of advice drop the cocky attitude and you may make friends around here” Usagi warned the guy as he spun round pinning her to the wall looking into her eyes with anger almost as if she had said something taboo.

“Listen here girl you should watch who your speaking to, What if I wasn’t a nice shaman, What if I could end your life and destroy your soul at the same time, think before you…..” The figure warned before usagi cut him off looking into his eyes with a glint of anger at what he was doing.

“No you think before you speak, I was giving you advice for life around here and you took it like a petulant child, You look what fourteen years old well I am about one year your senior so cool it” Usagi schooled him making him step back in surprise, He had not been spoken to like that in all his years of being on this earth.

When the silence had cleared the figure burst into fresh laughter confusing Usagi, It was true laughter as he held his side looking up at the girl as she uncrossed her arms looking at him as if he was insane.

“you’re the first one in a while to talk to me like that, You seem strong willed I like that what’s your name girl?” the guy questioned her after regaining his composure at that moment Usagi had let her guard down a little more.

“The names Usagi, I live in the west corner of the village” Usagi introduced herself leaning against the nearby wall whilst straightening out her hair with her fingers, the figure stood by her with a smirk.

“Nice to meet you Usagi, My name is Hao…Remember it well and I do suggest you decide your loyalties, just a piece of advice” Hao trailed off before leaving her stall leaving her confused, What a weirdo she thought as she went back to selling her goods.

At the end of the working day she had managed to sell all her necklaces, Perfect that will do for meals for a couple of days was her thoughts as she made her way home to greet her guardian, He had already prepared the evening meal.

“Wow Silva this looks great” Usagi complimented him before tucking in, He looked at her with a kind smile and sipped his tea before taking a seat by her as she ate.

“Thank you, How was the sales today?” He questioned looking at her coin purse before taking another sip of his tea as she took the pouch from her side and continued eating her meal; she then took a sip of her own tea.

“The takings are well, we will be able to buy food for a couple of days” Usagi proudly spoke as Silva looked over the stock noticing that she had undersold on charms today, He raised an eyebrow looking at her with crossed arms.

“I see that you have undersold on charms today, the tournament is coming up and the contestants will need all the luck they can get, Have you been offering them like I suggested” Silva questioned her looking for an honest answer.

“I did as you suggested but that strange shaman didn’t want to buy one, said he already was lucky and get this he already thinks he has…” Usagi went on to say before being cut off by her guardian he looked at her with a grimace, this was a situation he didn’t want happening.

“I specifically told you not to get involved with him, what did he tell you?” Silva questioned sternly as if the fate of the earth depended on her answer, this was out of character for Silva as he usually respected her judgment on things, something was wrong this time around as Silva looked like he might break from his anger.

“He didn’t say much, All he said is that he will be the future king and when I called him out on it he threatened me, He told me he could destroy my body and soul he was quite rude so I told him off again and he oddly started laughing he then asked me my name and greeted himself as Hao and before leaving he told me to sort out my loyalties” Usagi told him everything and most of the truth each word adding to his anger, He looked like he might explode at any moment.

“That bastard, From now on your job of selling trinkets is temporarily revoked, That job will be given to kalim and you are not to leave the village alone” Silva ordered her as he stood up and walked towards the door as Usagi stood in protest looking at him.

“Silva that’s unfair I want to help out in anyway I can” Usagi protested to him making him turn round to look at her with a growl, what had him so enraged she thought before he spoke to her again.

“I have spoken, Godiva will be told of the new rulings, till then I will look for jobs you can do and I suggest you do your best to put that guy out of your mind, it will do you no good Usagi” Silva said before heading out to make his reports leaving her confused and upset, What was the issue was her thoughts.

And with that the night had came to a close as flared anger caused misunderstandings, What was going to happen next ?

#shaman king #hao asakura #asakura hao #silva #fan character #fan fic #writers gonna write

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thealiaamir · 3 years ago

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Lilith

History:

Lilith was the original Eve, created from the same soil as Adam. Her name comes from the Babylonian “Lilitu” meaning “female demon” or “wind spirit”. When Adam insisted that he should be dominant, Lilith dared to question him. After all, they were crafted from the same Earth. She wished only to be equal, but was demonized for this. She was, thus, cast out of Eden. Allegedly, she created thousands of demon spawn and devoured infants by the bucketful. These accusations are falsehoods, crafted by those fearful of her righteous autonomy. Any havoc Lilith wrought was only out of woundedness, like the actions of a feral animal. She was shunned for speaking truth.

The “me too” movement is an expression of Lilith, where women show solidarity for the abuses they’ve suffered in silence. It is Lilith who exposes patriarchal corruption. Women become likened to banshees when they dare show rage. However, it would be limited to interpret Lilith only from the perspective of gender-based conflict. She is pure gut-instinct and extends far beyond sexual independence.

Lilith represents one’s ability to say “no” to what doesn’t feel right. She is pure root-chakra wisdom. The knowledge of the earth, muddy and messy. In one’s chart, she shows where you can become in-touch with your own body-wisdom. It’s this feeling in your stomach that says “heck yes!!!” or “this person makes my skin crawl.” Such intuition doesn’t align with left-brained, scientific modes of analysis.

The Signs/Houses:

Much like the asteroid chiron, Lilith represents a rejection wound in one’s chart. It’s where you speak your truth and no one wants to hear it. You put your heart on the line, but your desire for connection made someone cringe. You state your needs, and people ask “why do you have to be so difficult???” All you want is for someone to see the ferocious warmth beneath your intensity.

*if you have Lilith aspecting a planet, read the description for the sign it rules. Ex: sun would be Leo, Mercury would be Virgo or Gemini*

Aries/1st house: Daring to express oneself. The human embodiment of Lilith. Carnal. Someone who is known for butting heads with others. Notorious warrior. Fighting for the underdog is a part of one’s identity. Poster-boy of rejection wounds. Someone who feels like they’re “too much”, either bottling themselves up or living up to the expectation. Starting fights and then running to lick your wounds. Riling people up to get the negative attention you’re accustomed to. Truthfully, desiring authentic love that’s not based on filtering your personality into something more palatable.

Taurus/2nd house: someone who was told their desires are wrong. Being told you’re gluttonous for taking care of basic needs. Primal, all-consuming hunger. Eating disorders and shameful indulgence. A desire to consume one thing until you get sick of it. Ferociously guarding personal belongings and beliefs. Hoarding. A strong need to listing to one’s body, even if what it asks for doesn’t match conventional wisdom. Bullied for one’s weight. Earthly intuition. An unadulterated love for oneself that makes others uncomfortable. Intoxicatingly stubborn. Harsh & deep-set standards of morality.

Gemini/3rd house: saying things about people that hit a little too close to home. The thought process is primal. Knowing why people say the things they say. Reading people like a book. Ruthlessly pointing out falsehoods. Lilith is the trickster here, wearing many masks. Infamous for being inconsistent. Obsession with social dynamics, due to past rejection by “the tribe”. An outcast during school years. Extreme fear of missing out. Hiding taboo thoughts for fear of rejection. Unable to learn in a conventional fashion. Reading about the occult, depth psychology, myths, and anything else focusing on the core of human nature.

Cancer/4th house: the mother as an untamable Lilith figure. Standing up for one’s relatives. Someone with a dubious past. Mother was deemed insane or illogical. Black sheep. Feral obsession with comfort. Finding comfort in brutal honesty and ruthless emotional depth. Being deemed “impossible to live with”. High standard of living. Needing to set boundaries with one’s family and living situation. Controversial self-care. Knowing what truly matters. Fierce protector of the young and helpless. Savage goddess of the hearth. Periodic seclusion within one’s cave. Emotions take on a life of their own, going in bestial rampages.

Leo/5th house: Being ruthless becomes a game. The sin of unfiltered selfhood, becoming demonized for having fun. Toying with people’s hearts. Love/hate relationships. Compulsive validation needs. Hobbies may be taboo or the parents could’ve encouraged them to keep to themselves. Flames of desire emanate, pulsing like pyrotechnics. Rejected during childhood games. If they have kids, they’re likely the brutally honest sort. Children provide surprising bits of wisdom. This is someone who feels guilt for wanting to live a little. Unfiltered emotional expression can be too much for others. Heart swells at the slightest provocation. Needs to do what is simply in their nature, as those who matter will honor their authenticity.

Virgo/6th house: Compulsive organizational systems that seem illogical to others. Angry cleaning. Power of the gut-brain connection. Nature’s way of healing itself, clashing with the business of modern medicine. Disagreeable coworkers, or disagreeing with them yourself. Infamous at your place of work. The intestines strongly reject certain foods, so that you have to listen carefully. The diet may fluctuate daily. Acquired knowledge about nutrition and health may be of the controversial variety (carnivore diet, intuitive medicine, low oxalates, etc). Routines which may appear feral, but ground one in their body. People may take your high strandards personally, as they don’t know how to set boundaries themselves. A knot in your stomach tells you if something isn’t good for you.

Libra/7th house: Others are a mirror for the part of you that possesses unabated self-knowledge. Attracted to people ruled by irrational instinct. Must be careful to set clear boundaries in interactions with others. Compulsive need to interact and form partnerships, which may overwhelm others. Wild charm. Demonizing others. Wanting someone to teach you how to think for yourself. Partner helps you return to & nourish your body. Guttural wisdom exchanged in daily interactions. Best friend is someone incredibly grounded, who lives authentically. You demonize or idolize those who think for themselves.

Scorpio/8th house: psychoanalyzing others before they can do they same to you. A lifestyle that allows for a great deal of secrecy. Obscure & impenetrable. Unreavealing of cavernous depths of feeling, because they fear no one is brave enough to explore these shadows. Making people uncomfortable by purging every secret at once. Being abandoned once you reveal your true self. People offering “gifts” with treacherous strings attached. Unhealthy relationship dynamics- one person is running while the other is chasing. Being stalked or doing the stalking. Unearthing other’s rejection wounds. Shamanic. Concealed impulses. Instinctual need for closeness, where everything is shared. Their “soul mate” is someone ruthless.

Sagittarius/9th house: Too much to handle. Cycles of binging and purging. Living a life of excess. May attract questionable travel companions. Worldview is based on sharing hard truths to all who will listen. This is not someone who minces their words, though they’ve been told time and time again to keep their mouths shut. Their opinions are of the controversial variety, though they are rarely wrong. Arguments are a playground. Saying “no” to the religious doctrine pushed upon you as a child. A skeptic, because they know better in their gut. Higher education brings out compulsive tendencies. May confront teachers & all traditional knowledge. Tearing self-proclaimed gurus down with sharp wit.

Capricorn/10th house: Social pariah. Sex symbol. Businesses that involve female empowerment. Glitzy. Destined to become infamous. Dense and frenzied energy remains when you leave the room. Man-eater. Insatiable need for recognition, tearing one’s way through the corporate ladder. Symbol of truth. Breaking out of the box society has placed you in. The father/dominant parent may have been a “difficult” person. Lack of respect for false or corrupt authority. Innate power. “Bad cop”. Sticking it to the man. Fear of subordination. Intimidating competence and confidence. Cimmerian. Public symbol of authenticity. Honest evaluation of societal structures. Organized chaos.

Aquarius/11th house: Friendship isn’t taken lightly. May associate with controversial people. Freaks. Love/hate relationship towards humanity. Scaring aqaintances. Inundating society with knowledge they’re not yet ready for. Untethered. Jealousy towards those who meld into groups, causing them to further isolate. A reject, estranged from reality. Diabolical. Deep desire to be included. Obsession with what everyone else is doing. Violent subcultures. Strangers invading the native’s personal space, or vice versa. Electric compulsions, jolting the native out of old ways of being. These sudden consciousness shifts perturb others. Radical awareness of the body. They’ve been told to keep their visions of the future to themselves. The divine feminine is crowned in a fluorescent blue halo, lifted above the earth by undulating nimbus clouds.

Pisces/12th house: Beastial dreamscape. The Feminine Wild is both feared and revered. Fantasies of standing up for yourself. Trouble accessing your instinctive and earthy side. Conduit for collective delirium. Dissolution. Substance abuse. Ignoring instinct is your self-undoing. Surrendering autonomy. Deemed too hysterical, sensitive, and irresponsible. Freedom comes from claiming spiritual dominion. Knowing what your dreams and subconscious yearnings mean, becoming defensive when people dismiss your interpretations. Crawling out of your skin. Arcane knowledge via escapism. Odd methods of psychological mending.

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searching-for-arcadia · 4 years ago

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Sea-Hearts by Margo Lanagan & Vita Nostra by Maryna and Serhiy Dyachenko

torchwood fanfic asks

9. AUs? what kind?

Edits aren’t quite responsive since they’re not quite AUs that I’d say I gravitate towards, but more AUs I’d love to see people’s take on (I’ll actually answer the question below).

First, Gwen as selkie (and not the Torchwood selkie which seems to be an opposite selkie) isn’t something I’ve seen done (though if you know of a fic that has done this, please send it my way!). There is something about the soulfulness of her eyes that says selkie to me. A little snippet of something for flavor:

Gwen loved Rhys. He was a much kinder man than the man whole stole her from the sea. He loved her because he loved her, not because he owned her. That was more than many mortal men could boast.

Second, I would love to see a Torchwood/Vita Nostra fusion where Tosh was recruited to the Institute of Special Technologies and goes through the terrifying transformation and education we witness in the novel, but ultimately rejects her place and her power. She retains her brilliance but is always a little afraid from that point on of what she is capable of of. A little snippet of flavor:

She built the sonic modulator with the same sick feeling in her stomach that she had carried with her when she first joined the Institute of Special Technologies. She remembered when she sleep deprivation was driving her to madness and incoherence; she remembered when her studies suffered and her mother was in a near fatal automobile accident. A reminder, her mentor had said, and an incentive to study harder. She remembered the horrible accidents that befell all her classmate’s family members (broken bones, heart attacks, just-too-coincidental deaths); remembered that they were all taken hostage, their families held as ransom or collateral, until the lessons overtook their senses and they fell into the heady trap of being powerful. She was careful, while building the sonic modulator, to not become too interested, to not let her sense of capability outstrip her sense of fear. She would not forget how to be human twice.

And to actually answer the questions. YES, I love AUs. Excluding my already professed love of Chosen One!Ianto and my continual insistence that everybody, Suzie included, should live, here are some of my favorite AUs (in general, I love things that decrease the stakes for everyone involved because these days I just want to be coddled and comforted):

1. Time Lord Tosh or Ianto: I just think Time Lord Tosh makes a whole lot of sense and that she would make a fantastic companion to the Doctor (regardless of whether she’s human or a Time Lord, so that’s another AU for you, Companion!Tosh). And of course, I love the different ways that people tackle Ianto and Jack after Ianto regains his Time Lord senses (Does he get over it by sheer force of will/love? Does Jack’s fixedness not bother him at all? Does he choose to live as a human because he can’t bear to be with Jack as a Time Lord and he also can’t bear to be without him?).

2. The Team in Boeshane: I love the idea of the whole team being taken by the Rift and dropped off in Boeshane, either with or without Jack and while past-Jack is there or not. I just love Jack’s mother taking members of the team in.

3. Harry Potter AUs: I think that it’s our prerogative to pry this universe out of J.K. Rowling’s hands, take the interesting bits, and then tell better stories in it. I headcanon Ianto as a Slytherin, Tosh as a Ravenclaw, Gwen as a Gryffindor, Owen as a Hufflepuff, and Jack as a Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, or Slytherin (depending on what happened to his family life prior to his sorting; if there are no incidents, Hufflepuff; if there was an incident with Gray, but his parent(s) didn’t reject him, Gryffindor; if there was an incident with Gray and he has a fraught or non-existent relationship with his parent(s), Slytherin).

4. Daemons AUs: I especially love Daemon AUs that keep the touching taboo and think about how the existence of daemons would impact modern life. I think that the existence of daemons also has interesting ramifications for Suzie and Ianto. Does Suzie persist with the glove even though it can’t bring back a person’s daemon? I think you could characterize her either way. Does Lisa retain her daemon despite her partial conversion? I tend to think so and that the persistence of her daemon is the reason why Ianto doesn’t give up; when her daemon disappears is when he knows its over even if he can’t accept it yet. I don’t have a lot of defined thoughts about the daemons I’d give the team except that usually, I think of Suzie with a bird, Ianto with a scavenger, and Gwen with a canine. Jack, Tosh, and Owen are more variable in my head. I would also love to see broader HDM AUs that take more of the universe than just the existence of daemons (give me witches and the science of dust).

5. Coffee Shop AUs: Kinda. I’ve never really been particularly into Coffee Shop AUs specifically, though I do love them in the general way that I love fluffy Torchwood-doesn’t-exist AUs (Jack is a traveling artist and Ianto his muse, Gwen is a legitimate psychic who consults with law enforcement, Rhys and Ianto run a restaurant together, Owen as the A&E doctor who treats Tosh after a welding accident, Jack is a sci-fi author and Ianto writes mysteries; the possibilities are endless!), but now I’m a bit of a coffee snob (this happened independent of Torchwood; I developed my coffee habit and snobbery years after watching Torchwood) and know people who roast coffee, so I just want to see more coffee geekery. I do wonder how blasphemous it would be to update Ianto’s coffee tastes to be more in line with third wave coffee roasting preferences/innovations (which was certainly alive and well in the 2000s, especially in certain cities, but hadn’t seemed to hit Cardiff yet).

6. Role Reversal AUs: For when I feel like keeping the stakes the same, I love AUs that put Ianto in charge of Torchwood Three by whatever twist of fate you’d like with Jack working under him. Sometimes he’s immortal (so he takes on Jack’s backstory minus the coming from the future bit), sometimes he’s not (he gets put into power before or after Canary Wharf, though after seems most likely). Sometimes Jack grew up on Earth (either because his entire backstory has been changed or he was taken by the Rift as a child) and sometimes he didn’t (he can still be immortal or he can be a stranded Time Agent/Time Agent in hiding).

7. Dogs AU: Honestly I can’t explain myself. It’s completely silly and I love it. I don’t know if I’ve seen one of these in the Torchwood fandom, but AU where the whole cast are dogs and they meet at a dog park or their humans are neighbors. Jack is a retired military dog. Ianto spent some time as a street dog, was rescued, then there was some incident that put him back on the street, before being adopted (possible by Jack’s human(s)). Gwen is a former police dog that was pulled to join an experimental medical program and she now spends her days sniffing out neurodegenerative diseases. Owen is a therapy dog; his humans don’t get it because he hates strangers, but it’s like he’s a different dog around those in need. Tosh is a scarily intelligent dog who is part of the cohort of animals that is being taught how to communicate using a speech board.

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canvasofthecosmos · 5 years ago

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Lilith- Truth Coming out of Her Well to Shame Mankind

(Painting by Jean-Léon Gérôme)

History:

The Signs/Houses:

*if you have Lilith aspecting a planet, read the description for the sign it rules. Ex: sun would be Leo, Mercury would be Virgo or Gemini*

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anonymous-artblog · 4 years ago

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I’ve seen a handful of fics where the gaang are all platonic soulmates, and that’s the best take ever, obviously. So I tried my hand at designing some soulmarks because I love symbols and being fake deep

Aang: the airbending symbol in a yellow and orange circle. The three swirls are written in blue, green, and red, and there are matching dots underneath. It’s supposed to represent all four elements but with air being the main background

Toph: The earthbending symbol encased in a solid block and written in green and gold. The bending swirl from the center of the symbol is gone, and in its place is a belt with the central symbol from the Earth Rumble champion belt, where Toph won her title of greatest earthbender in the world. The belt is positioned on the badgermole of the earthbending symbol so that it functions as a blindfold

Sokka: it’s his boomerang and then the mark of the wise that he earned while ice-dodging with Bato above it

Katara: the waterbending symbol with the mark of the brave above it. The waterbending symbol is mostly written in blue, but its stained red at the very bottom for bloodbending, and the upper half is blended into that glowy light blue the water turns when she uses it for healing

Zuko: a simplified Blue Spirit mask wearing the Fire Lord crown.

Anyway here are my Thoughts on the au itself, feel free to ignore:

Having multiple soulmates is super common, but not universal. BUT-- “soulmates” doesn’t guarantee anything except the fact that you will meet that person at least once. It’s more a designation of potential. It’s on you to actually work out the relationship. Some soulmate groups are entirely platonic, some are entirely romantic, some are mixed, and some never get that close for whatever reason. Soul marks appear down the length of your spine in the order of who you will meet first

Air Nomads considered soulmates to be the people destined to teach you the most about yourself and the world. Higher numbers of soulmates and diversity among them was something to celebrate. Aang spent his whole childhood buzzing with excitement to meet his soulmates. When he got rescued by the Blue Spirit, he was so sure that he had finally met a nice firebending master, but then the mask came off, and he spent all night curled up sniffling and completely reevaluating the meaning of Zuko’s soulmark.

The Earth Kingdoms consider soulmates to be a deeply private matter. They think soulmates are all separate parts of a single soul, and strangers can’t just ask about someone’s soul. The marks are always covered up, no matter what. Toph’s parents, as per usual, took this privacy to an extreme and never even told her whether she had soulmarks or not. She gets her world turned upside down when the Gaang is trying to convince her parents to let her go with them and they pull the “but she’s our soulmate” card-- unknowingly violating the Earth Kingdom’s biggest taboo in the process, and immediately getting themselves thrown out.

She’s internally freaking out and burning with curiosity, but it isn’t until weeks into their journey that she asks Katara to describe her soulmarks to her. She cries, but that’s a secret

The Water Tribes consider soulmates to people the spirits have hand-picked for you that you have infinite potential to love in the fullest way possible. Soulmarks are a point of pride, many soulmarks is a blessing, and they are openly discussed and bragged about. The Southern Water Tribe is at its core a small town, so everyone knew Sokka and Katara’s marks within weeks of their respective births. They were mildly ostracized over it, despite Katara’s attempts to explain away the Fire Nation crown as anything other than the obvious meaning. Sokka had to work a bit harder than most to prove himself as a loyal warrior, and the blood at the bottom of Katara’s soulmark was considered an ill omen

Also Hakoda, Kya, and Bato were all soulmates. So while Bato wasn’t one of their parents, he also sort of was, and that’s why it was fine for him to step into that role with them without anyone blinking twice

The Fire Nation pretty much ignores soulmarks. They are too Enlightened(tm) and Above That to make any major decisions based on something so archaic, so arbitrary and unknown. They marry and form friendships alliances based on political gain ONLY. Caring about your soulmarks in any way is seen as kinda weird, backwards, and very un-ambitious. Unfortunately for Zuko though, Ozai thought his soulmarks meant he had an inherently traitorous spirit (even though Ozai was a total hypocrite and also said soulmarks didn’t matter at all). So Zuko spent sixteen years trying to convince himself and everyone else that his soulmarks were about a “destined eternal enemies” type of soulmate relationship. He hates the marks and blamed his soulmates for the way his father treated him for a long time. Also Aang’s mark was 100% the reason he was sent on a dead-end quest to capture the Avatar

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #aang #toph beifong #sokka #katara #zuko #soulmarks #soulmate au #symbols #digital art

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chiseler · 3 years ago

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Peleshian: Life & Nothing Less

For over sixty years, Artavazd Peleshian—Артавазд Пелешян; Արտավազդ Փելեշյան—has been slowly sifting through the mountain of debris that has built up around the cinema. His films seem to intrude upon a present which smugly believes that it has solved all the old problems from a static horizon, that all is over and done with, that everything has been settled. What is left is merely the production of ghosts.

In Kyanq (“Life”), made in 1993, Peleshian ignores the diegetic revolution which followed the discovery of the power of cutting within a single sequence. Cross cutting has become another prison, and making a film seems almost unimaginable without recourse to its seductive shifts and its promises of infinite simultaneity. But passing through Eisenstein and Dovzhenko, starting again after the hard-won miracles and defeats of the past, Peleshian has come out from the other side. He has made a second beginning for cinema by rearranging ideas of the past.

The film opens with a beautiful woman in close-up profile, apparently in the throes of ecstasy. Soon, an arm in scrubs enters the frame and we see that she is actually in a medical theater (the hand is a doctor or relative’s; blurred vertical planes are parts of the metal delivery bed; a glowing orb is hospital lighting). She is in labor, which is a mundane and sentimental subject for a film. The use of the close-up in film, crowding the screen with sweat and ‘emotion’, is an easy manipulation of the viewer’s emotions. It also bares the chill of forensic pathology, which seizes the living as if the body were a puzzle useful only for illustrating hazard or solving its own crime. The soundtrack is music by Verdi, which stops and starts fitfully until it is finally freed from the film’s editing, adding a skipping unreality to the formal ‘realism’ of Life. The only other sound is a heartbeat amplified over the beginning (and note, not the electronic blip of a monitor), which remains slightly audible under the requiem mass.

Though the film follows the simple timeline of a woman giving birth, the editing follows the inward time of a mother. The use of extreme close-up is now clear: in the epochal scheme of a general, universal time, the close-up is used to make myths into statues or it captures momentary passions as if these passions or myths were the only ones in the world. But through a subtle use of jump-cuts, the viewer starts to feel an odd remove from the girl’s lovely features. She begins to resemble a landscape, as in those old enigmatic Dutch paintings where hills and rivers form a great human face. We have returned to painting, the first inspiration of filmmakers, but the laws of perspective and the order of objects are far less important than the alternation of internal and external time. Filming and watching take time, are revealed in time, try to trick time by poking it full of holes (visible first in the sprockets of exposed film, as it feeds and moves in light projection). Life is made of different times, a fact which seduces us into believing that time is all that governs life and that all time is reducible to the power of a dominant course.

Rembrandt said: Life etches itself onto our faces as we grow older, showing our violence, excesses, or kindnesses.

Do not children kill their mothers in childbirth, all or in part, with the violence of birth, with the all the terrible duties that child-rearing demands? And one of the last taboos—maybe also the first, if we accept that the horror of incest is inseparable from it—the link between orgasm and birth is also the possibility of dual death and the ruthless affirmation of Life over death which dictates that the life of the child is a supreme right against its mother. Life at all costs—the greatest of tyrannies, a monstrous physical drive which unleashes a tsunami of living over the earth: the atrocious flood of total creation. Life as something that equals what is most terrifying within it—of it—the blank face of a genetic machine wanting itself and nothing else, consuming itself via the temptation-engines of a chattering god of sheer velocity (this is also the god of information, beloved of the tech wizards). It is not the phantom of Death that haunts the living, but the phantom of Life. And the individual life strives to fool this specter, to shock it in its own wild onrush by producing a single life in the monolithic barrage of limitless coming-to-be. Bearing witness against this crude biological nihilism which William Blake identified as The Beast, the machine mills of the slavers’ empire, one single life then occurs as many—each without repeat, yet each one the selfsame in the body of the swarm.

Against this omnivorous shadow—a cellular destiny which rises out of the solitary reflections given us by our vague notions of science, by a primary education that teaches biology as fate and terror only—Peleshian projects a woman in contortions, giving birth down by the walls of the hegemon. Things get smaller in the film. Life shrinks down to a mouth, a hand, a slight bewitching smile, ringlets of hair and beads of sweat. And here we realize that exaltation—accompanied by an Italian death mass and the heart’s regular drum—is always done alone, and that its joys must be betrayed by the world from which each ecstasy severs it time and again. Entering back into the crowd (via the film, via an audience she cannot know), what is unique returns in this disorder of movement and gesture—which is everyone’s autobiography. Just as when ‘something strikes you’, striking the eye with an immense force: a face on the bus, corner stoop faces, faces and faces from whose vast gallery one singular expression comes into clarity for an instant and then returns—on the verge of life or leaving life, there is nothing else at this hypothetical moment—almost caught at the corner of the eye.

It is strange that in extreme close-ups, faces seem at their most indistinguishable but also at their most familiar (you mistake someone for someone else and stare at them to be sure, staring ever more intently until you are far more than unsure—you are lost in that other face). The film’s other close-ups are of hands. The human hand is midway between the features of the face and the wild movements of the limbs. Hands riddle and grasp, make knots, then relax for a split second; they curl like mites, tree branches, or Chinese brushstrokes; hands touching, climbing, cradling, joining. Think of those famous handprints in red ochre found on cave walls—and finding that which is before art in these images, we still foolishly call this act which far outstrips any cultic or imaginative art, just as erroneously as we do the images made with hands, an ‘expression!’—palms measuring breadth, and not just the span of vital time but the time of an imprint that will remain for an accidental 80,000 years. The Peleshian-captured hands clench and constrict life, that nothing be left undone. It does not matter whose hand the woman in the film clasps—anyone, someone, for a moment the only one (perhaps all together, all those she has met, summed up in a stranger’s hand). Dark supposition: that everyone only knows life by their separation from life, lives peering at Life across an impenetrable gulf. But life is also the work of hands.

She raises a finger to the corner of her mouth with its intricate sloping shadow, touching the ghost of a smile. The woman is lost in some reverie and giving birth would seem a strange time for letting the mind wander. But from the jump cuts, we know that Peleshian has edited this sequence internally, so it is far from certain when moments like this actually occurred (I counted 15 cuts in a sequence which accounts for about 5 minutes of the film’s 7-minute running time). At the end, the child is tossed to her mother like a bag of apples, after being bathed in torrents of spurting water (there is no afterbirth or blood, another conscious omission). The young woman and her child then stare at the camera in freeze-frame. I can think of a thousand reasons why you shouldn’t have, but you did, despite all—and I now understand why in the flood of existence you added one more as if you were adding nothing at all. This is Peleshian’s only film in color, which ads credence to the rumor it was to have been his last (Happily, it was not). Color is the first sight of a guileless world seen by guileless eyes, eyes soon to fall upon the architecture of black and white and the gridlines of working rooms.

“Fac eas, Domine, de morte transire ad vitam…” Verdi’s Requiem Mass, 1874: deliverance (and delivery, “Libera animas omnium…”) and liberation (from life, from hell, the lion’s jaws), faithful souls, holy light, deepest pits. “Grant O Lord that they might pass from life death…” Thus is the connection between life and the freeing from life, death and multiple birth sealed (Verdi’s Offertorio is cut and partially repeated on the soundtrack). Now the hand at her mouth, in her hair, rack of contractions. Take and in taking, receive, “Tu suscipe pro animabus illis, quarum hodie memoriam facimus.” The others—all souls—hostias, “we offer...”

Endnote/ Links:

Artavazd Peleshian’s entire completed work takes about two hours to view (his longest is his latest, the 63-minute La Nature, 2019). Kyanq and many others can be seen here: https://www.ubu.com/film/peleshian.html

Peleshian and Godard: https://kinoslang.blogspot.com/2013/07/before-babel.html

Peleshian speaks: http://www.movingimagesource.us/articles/going-the-distance-20120106

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jawbone-xylophone · 5 years ago

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"I used to do a lot of things" - Sugar (HorrorDream)

squint I think I know who sent this! finger guns Ask and ye shall receive. Gonna do your asks a bit out of order because the muse is going crazy. The prompt is only implied, I have a bad habit of that, but I hope you like!

/////

The world he was currently in was a wreck of fallen stalactites and dirt-churned snow, long scars in the earth slicing through houses and baring the naked rock beneath like some giant claw had descended from on high. The cavern still shuddered, the distant aftershocks of Error’s wild blasting and the roar of a river of paint flash-boiling into steam rushing over Dream like a storm front. There was less pain here now, but only because the remaining casualties trapped under rubble were finally dying. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved about that or not. Dream, to his shame, was just trying to survive right now. The toxic glee in the air, bloodthirst and mania, did little to properly anchor him against the tide of negativity, and without proper healing to bolster his strength he might very well be shunted from this universe against his will. He was needed here, Blue had been separated from the group, Ink rarely thought before acting and fought using the Rule of Cool more than actual tactics. He was needed, he couldn’t afford to be blocked off from his allies, but he was weak with strain and a thousand small fractures that glimmered gold in the dust-strewn gloom.

He stumbled into the front of what used to be a junk store, bricks harsh against his shoulder, the splintered windowsill digging into his hand. Glassy-eyed plastic figurines stared sightlessly out onto the empty street, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they were screaming in their own way. Dream felt like crumpling to the ground and screaming himself, if only to try to relieve the aching pressure of Nightmare’s swollen power. Not that it would really help, in the end, nothing ever helped but distance. His hand dug into the windowsill as if that would prevent his untimely ejection from the world code, trying to ground his spinning head with the pain.

Then- hope. Shaky, hesitant hope, from somewhere deeper into the wreckage of a residential district, that tasted like determination and love and a bit like grief, but there was a light struggling through the darkness, calling Dream like a moth to a flame. That hope could very well be Dream’s last chance, and he wasn’t about to waste it. He started to run, tripping into the snow of the street, but he didn’t have time for that, he had to go, lunging forward from a crawl and catching himself on the corners of buildings with scrabbling fingers. There, there- around this corner, duck through that arch, over the wreck of an old ice house- and there they were.

Dream’s soul sank at the image of a monster dragging themself through the snow towards a pile of glimmering dust, which was still flickering with eddies of magic. He’d just missed the death, clearly. Dream would empathize if he wasn’t in a warzone mentality, but he’d come here looking for the one thing that could heal him and give him a fighting chance, grief wouldn’t help him.

But there was hope thick on the air, and he couldn’t understand where it was coming from, even as the stranger’s skeletal hand reached out with desperate strain and took a fistful of still-glowing monster dust.

He couldn’t understand when that dust was shoved past teeth as thick as tombstones.

He couldn’t understand when red light flickered through the places where the stranger’s bones interlocked, when they took another handful, when they shuddered and groaned and made the sort of sounds normally reserved for high quality steak.

But when their sole eye light managed to focus, red as warning, and their hood slipped back to reveal the sort of massive head trauma no one should survive, he thought he might understand, and that made everything so much worse.

The stranger was burning with hope, with love, with the strength to look a lion in the eye, and Dream couldn’t understand why they answered when Nightmare crawled out of the shadows to call them home.

But his head had finally stopped hurting, bones knitting together as the pressure eased. There was no one around to see him finally crumple to the ground and let the revulsion crawl up his spine like a living thing, horror thick and chalky in his throat. It remained even when he regrouped with the others much later, Ink nuzzling into his aura and Blue shoving concern and cinnamon bunnies at him in equal measure, and he had to swallow down the burn of bile the next time they faced Nightmare’s men on the battlefield.

That skeleton never looked away from him, calm and steady, even as yet another apocalypse crashed down around them.

—

Dream finally extracted himself from the thick of the party with a long sigh, desperate for cooler air and possibly something to drink. As fun as this little New Years’ party was, it was getting to be a bit overwhelming, and he wasn’t used to such high concentrations of positivity. A little punch-drunk, he stumbled into the wall, catching himself on a picture frame and knocking it crooked. Water would be a good idea. Water and fresh air, away from the zing of romance and the roiling waves of crowded excitement in Blue’s living room.

He made his way to the kitchen, hand dragging along the wall, careful to put one foot in front of the other. Definitely no alcohol for him tonight, not when the clusters of cheerful drunk people in his general area were too much to handle. Tottering through the doorway and blinking in the bright lights, he adjusted for a few long moments. He saw the drink cooler, but only on approach did he notice a hand waving a water bottle under his nose, and he startled blearily.

One ruined red eye watched him steadily.

Caught off-balance, Dream accepted the drink with a slow hand, blinking widely at the man. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.” The other leaned back a bit to rest against the counter, lidless stare never straying from Dream’s face. “You look like you got mauled. Here with anyone?”

Dream only realized he was shaking a bit when he had trouble lifting the bottle to his mouth, and he flushed a little. “Uh, nope. I mean, sort of? I’m friends with Blue.”

“I know.”

Right. Uh. Several years of seeing him cover Blue’s blind spots with a bow and arrow might have been a decent hint. He was determined not to make this awkward, but partying under a truce with old enemies made this very bizarre anyway. Dream managed to take a drink, and capped the bottle before he could spill it all over the floor. “...I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced, actually. Circumstances notwithstanding.” What a wonderful way to gloss over the whole your-friends-tried-to-stab-mine issue.

In response, the other skeleton’s brow lifted, and he grinned in a thin, vaguely alarming sort of way. Or maybe the massive hole in his head just caused every expression to look scarier no matter what the intention. “Small talk? Alright, I’ll bite.” He extended a bony hand, the other buried firmly in a pocket. “Sans the skeleton, like half of the idiots here. Nickname’s Horror.”

Dream passed his water into his left hand and copied Horror, smiling. “Dream. Just Dream.”

Horror huffed a small, amused noise, and let go of the handshake. “Well, just Dream, don’ fake anythin’ on my account. Saw you eyeing me when you came in,” he quipped, gesturing briefly at his own face and shattered skull. This close Dream could see the built up scarring around the lower rim of his empty socket. “Seen you eyeing me for a while, really. ‘F I didn’t know better I’d think you actually like lookin’ at this ugly mug.”

“Well- I- you see-“ Oh hell, Dream hasn’t thought he was that obvious. And it wasn’t like that at all, truth be told, he just... even now, he was confused by Horror. He was always calm, and while there was a hungry echo of desperation staining his psyche, for the most part he was startlingly full of love. Of all things to find orbiting Nightmare’s inner circle! Dream had no idea how this man could exist, brutally efficient and not above the worst taboo yet motivated by such level-headed gentleness. “It’s not that, you’re just very interesting. I’m curious.”

“Interesting, he says,” Horror drawls, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter. “Lotta people find me ‘interesting’. Lotta curious folks like to poke and point and ask stuff they’ve no business askin’. What’s your itch, then?” It would sound accusing if he wasn’t so composed, tone almost light.

Dream winces. He could backtrack, fall to something safer. While he wasn’t above a strategic retreat, he really couldn’t let that stand. “I’m sorry to hear that people insist on disrespecting you. I don’t really have a question, per se, at least nothing in dire need of asking.” That’s a lie, but Dream possesses enough manners to know what you can and cannot ask the familiar stranger who watched you watch him across the battlefield. “I just find it fascinating that in the middle of Nightmare’s forces there’s so much love kept in one person. Love is one of the strangest motivators, so I won’t pretend to know why you go about with that wood axe and yet still feel so gentle to my empathy. You’re a very unusual skeleton, Horror, and a very pleasant surprise. That’s what I mean by interesting.”

Horror goes very still, eye wide, and there’s something thoughtful there beneath the intensity. He’s startled, but it’s only visible in the smallest ways, the relaxing of his jaw and the way his spine straightens a touch beneath his ratty hoodie. He rolls a few words around in his head almost visibly before he speaks. “That’s... a first. ‘Specially from a guy like you.” The laugh is mostly humorless, though there’s a wondering tilt to his head. “Ya waltz in here lookin’ white girl wasted, all prettied up in gold, got me thinkin’ I’m in for a headache, but you’re actually that sweet? Color me charmed.”

“I’ll have you know I’m not just sweet,” Dream replies flatly. “Don’t make that mistake, it’s tiresome.” He’s not in any way prepared to acknowledge anything else Horror just said, though something stupid in his subconscious is focused on the fact that Horror called him pretty.

“Wouldn’t dare.” Horror replies, grin warming. “Multidimensional folks are more interestin’ any day.” And if he’s starting to be sweet on the way Dream meets his gaze unflinchingly, perceptive and headstrong, well. That’s something he can think about later, when he has a proper moment to sit down and recognize what this fascination could easily become, if he lets it. For now he just gestures out onto the porch and invites Dream to talk a while, while moths flutter curiously about the lanterns there.

#writing prompt #ask box #horror #dream

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intellectualshield · 5 years ago

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CRIMINAL MINDS WATCHLIST.

SEASON ONE :

Extreme Aggressor.

Compulsion.

Won’t Get Fooled Again.

Plain Sight.

Broken Mirror.

L.D.S.K.

The Fox

Natural Born Killer.

Derailed.

The Popular Kids.

Blood Hungry.

What Fresh Hell.

Poison.

Riding the Lightning.

Unfinished Business.

The Tribe.

A Real Rain.

Somebody’s Watching.

Machismo.

Charm and Harm.

Secrets and Lies.

The Fisher King, Part 1.

SEASON TWO :

The Fisher King, Part 2.

P911.

The Perfect Storm.

Psychodrama.

Aftermath.

The Boogeyman.

North Mammon.

Empty Planet.

The Last Word.

Lessons Learned.

Sex, Birth, Death.

Profiler, Profiled.

No Way Out.

The Big Game.

Revelations.

Fear and Loathing.

Distress.

Jones.

Ashes and Dust.

Honor Among Thieves.

Open Season.

Legacy.

No Way Out, Part II: The Evilution of Frank.

SEASON THREE :

Doubt.

In Name and Blood.

Scared to Death.

Children of the Dark.

Seven Seconds.

About Face.

Identity.

Lucky.

Penelope.

True Night.

Birthright.

3rd Life.

Limelight.

Damaged.

A Higher Power.

Elephant’s Memory.

In Heat.

The Crossing.

Tabula Rasa.

Lo-Fi.

SEASON FOUR :

Mayhem.

The Angel Maker.

Minimal Loss.

Paradise.

Catching Out.

The Instincts.

Memoriam.

Masterpiece.

52 Pickup.

Brothers in Arms.

Normal.

Soul Mates.

Bloodline.

Cold Comfort.

Zoe’s Reprise.

Pleasure is My Business.

Demonology.

Omnivore.

House on Fire.

Conflicted.

A Shade of Gray.

The Big Wheel.

Roadkill.

Amplification.

To Hell...

...And Back.

SEASON FIVE :

Nameless, Faceless.

Haunted.

Reckoner.

Hopeless.

Cradle to Grave.

The Eyes Have It.

The Performer.

Outfoxed.

100.

The Slave of Duty.

Retaliation.

The Uncanny Valley.

Risky Business.

Parasite.

Public Enemy.

Mosley Lane.

Solitary Man.

The Fight.

A Rite of Passage.

...A Thousand Words.

Exit Wounds.

The Internet is Forever.

Our Darkest Hour.

SEASON SIX :

The Longest Night.

JJ.

Remembrance of Things Past.

Compromising Positions.

Safe Haven.

Devil’s Night.

Middle Man.

Reflection of Desire.

Into the Woods.

What Happens at Home.

25 to Life.

Corazon.

The Thirteenth Step.

Sense Memory.

Today I Do.

Coda.

Valhalla.

Lauren.

With Friends Like These...

Hanley Waters.

The Stranger.

Out of the Light.

Big Sea.

Supply & Demand.

SEASON SEVEN :

It Takes a Village.

Proof.

Dorado Falls.

Painless.

From Childhood’s Hour.

Epilogue.

There’s No Place Like Home.

Hope.

Self-Fulfilling Prophecy.

The Bittersweet Sauce.

True Genius.

Unknown Subject.

Snake Eyes.

Closing Time.

A Thin Line.

A Family Affair.

I Love You, Tommy Brown.

Foundation.

Heathridge Manor.

The Company.

Divining Rod.

Profiling 101.

Hit.

Run.

SEASON EIGHT :

The Silencer.

The Pact.

Through the Looking Glass.

God Complex.

The Good Earth.

The Apprenticeship.

The Fallen.

The Wheels on the Bus...

Magnificent Light.

The Lesson.

Perennials.

Zugzwang.

Magnum Opus.

All That Remains.

Broken.

Carbon Copy.

The Gathering.

Restoration.

Pay It Forward.

Alchemy.

Nanny Dearest.

#6.

Brothers Hotchner.

The Replicator.

SEASON NINE :

The Inspiration.

The Inspired.

Final Shot.

To Bear Witness.

Route 66.

In the Blood.

Gatekeeper.

The Return.

Strange Fruit.

The Caller.

Bully.

The Black Queen.

The Road Home.

200.

Mr. & Mrs. Anderson.

Gabby.

Persuasion.

Rabid.

The Edge of Winter.

Blood Relations.

What Happens in Mecklinburg...

Fatal.

Angels.

Demons.

SEASON TEN :

Burn.

A Thousand Suns.

The Itch.

Boxed In.

If the Show Fits.

Hashtag.

The Boys of Sudworth Place.

Fate.

Amelia Porter.

The Forever People.

Anonymous.

Nelson’s Sparrow.

Hero Worship.

Scream.

Lockdown.

Breath Play.

Rock Creek Park.

Beyond Borders.

A Place at the Table.

Mr. Scratch.

Protection.

The Hunt.

SEASON ELEVEN :

The Job.

The Witness.

Til Death Do Us Part.

Outlaw.

The Night Watch.

Pariahville.

Target Rich.

Awake.

Internal Affairs.

Future Perfect.

Entropy.

Drive.

The Bond.

Hostage.

A Badge and a Gun.

Derek.

The Sandman.

A Beautiful Disaster.

Tribute.

Inner Beauty.

Devil’s Backbone.

The Storm.

SEASON TWELVE :

The Crimson King.

Sick Day.

Taboo.

Keeper.

The Anti-Terror Squad.

Elliott’s Pond.

Mirror Image.

Scarecrow.

Profiling 202.

Seek and Destroy.

Surface Tension.

A Good Husband.

Spencer.

Collision Course.

Alpha Male.

Assistance is Futile.

In the Dark.

Hell’s Kitchen.

True North.

Unforgettable.

Green Light.

Red Light.

SEASON THIRTEEN :

Wheels Up.

To A Better Place.

Blue Angel.

Killer App.

Lucky Strikes.

The Bunker.

Dust and Bones.

Neon Terror.

False Flag.

Submerged.

Full-Tilt Boogie.

Bad Moon on the Rise.

Cure.

Miasma.

Annihilator.

Last Gasp.

The Capilanos.

The Dance of Love.

Ex Parte.

All You Can Eat.

Mixed Signals.

Believer.

SEASON FOURTEEN :

300.

Starter Home.

Rule 34.

Innocence.

The Tall Man.

Luke.

Twenty Seven.

Ashley.

Broken Wing.

Flesh and Blood.

Night Lights.

Hamelin.

Chameleon.

Sick and Evil.

Truth or Dare.

#episode list.#criminal minds watchlist.#oh my gooooooooodddddddd #sb: why have you watched so much of s10 #me: listen jennifer love hewitt was one of my biggest crushes as a kid when i watched ghost whisperer

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alfredosauce50 · 6 years ago

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Who’s the bad guy? (2p + 1p America x reader) 2

Wordcount: 2,246 The reader is referred to as she/her

After another slow day at work, you closed up the shop. Throwing your satchel on your shoulder and walking out to the front door, your subconscious forced a sudden jolt to stop you in your tracks. You scrunched your face into a strange expression, a weird little feeling inside you that you couldn't shake off. Perhaps it was paranoia. Paranoia that directed your attention back over to the counter with a small black box sitting on it. You felt a sigh escape your lips as you made your way over to it and pick it up. "Stupid Allen..." you murmured, finally able to exit out of the small building to lock it shut once and for all. "He always forgets his phone."

So, instead of catching a bus back to your own house, you needed to get off one stop early to return a little something to your friend. Sometimes you wished that you owned your own car, but Allen would always tell you to borrow his instead. Something about saving up for the greater good, he always said.

You felt a few wet sprinkles dot your skin, causing you to lift your head to see where it was coming from. You only wound up staring up at the sky, rapidly dulling into a darker grey as masses of dirty clouds fused together. The light sprinkling then slowly built up into larger droplets, forcing you to pick up the pace and run over to the safety of the bus stop. You spotted another figure standing under the shelter, to where you assumed to be another one of your neighbors. About to go and greet him, the words in your throat were jumbled up when you caught sight of who the person was. And he was not your neighbor.

Narrowing your eyes that were shining in curiosity and awe, you gave him a good look over. He was dressed so primly and fine that it looked like it was cut straight out of a men's fashion magazine. Thank god he had his attention directed at the awfully large and expensive phone he held in his fingers or else he would have caught you ogling at him.

Despite that, you felt your lips curl into a little smile when you watched him glance up and step onto the vehicle. Following suit, you quickly paid for your fare and took a seat just behind him. Without even glimpsing at him to remain stealthy, you didn't notice him flicker his cerulean blues over to you for a moment. Too bad you were too focused on not focusing on him you couldn't see those beautiful blue eyes.

He stood at a rather tall stature that you could even say he was as tall as Allen, if not taller. You were unable to steal a peek at his face to identify him, but you could tell from the crisp white button down shirt that he was wealthier than all... And what was that? It was a golden watch wrapped tightly around his wrist that glimmered under the small remainder of light that survived in the rain. His hair was similar to that of Allen's, except it was a clean, light shade of sandy blonde that you never thought you'd ever see in the flesh in this town.

The rumbling of a bus hummed in your ears. You ripped your gaze from him and you shook your head. "Staring is rude..."

Clutching Allen's phone in your hands, you turned your head over to the window to stare at anything that flew past. No matter how long the ride was, nothing particular in the poor setting would ever change. As retail buildings slowly disappeared, it was replaced by a residential area, with small houses with undefined shapes and clothing lines out in the front.

A few minutes had droned by, with different people stepping off and on. Soon, it was Allen's stop and you gathered your things to stand up. The blonde in front of you stood up as well, dusting things you couldn't even see off his arms. That was when you thought you were going to suffer from a panic attack as you walked over to the doors to get off. You didn't dare to touch him, accidentally or not. His broad shoulders were a feature of his, and it appeared as though it would land you in hospital if you were bumped by him.

The last little ray of light that was emitted from the sun had disappeared, replaced by a bright moon overhead. Stepping carefully onto the grass next to the pavement, you began walking in the direction of Allen's house, only to realize that he was walking in the same direction.

How could this get any weirder?

Cupping your mouth with a hand, you tensed up but still managed to move your legs. As you trailed slowly behind him, he walked in a rather... Interesting style, his hands in stuffed in his pockets with his head glancing around occasionally. On the other hand, you were awkwardly strolling behind him hoping to yourself that he didn't assume you were about to mug him from your seemingly stalkerish behavior.

The walk was long and silent, but you eventually made it to Allen's neighborhood no longer than five minutes. As you turned a corner to his street with the eye candy of a stranger in front of you, your dazed self stupidly bumped into him when he suddenly slowed to a stop. Your heart broke into a rapid thumping frenzy before it sank when he turned his head over to you, so slowly that it hurt.

You shut your eyes tightly and felt your soul start dissipating into nothing. "I'm so sorry!" You blurted, taking a step back from him. You didn't expect this, but you felt two hands rest on your shoulders. Screwing open your eyes, you met with two of the bluest irises behind a pair of rimless glasses. "Oh!" you gasped, backing away from his face that was bent down to your level.

His lips stretched into a smile and he laughed. "It's okay! It's getting dark after all," He replied, withdrawing his hands from your shoulders. His voice was strangely child-like, and it sounded as though he was the happiest man on the planet. You nodded furiously, clutching the bag strap tightly. "... Alright," you muttered. "I guess I'll be off then..." You then brushed past him, picking up the pace to your destination.

"Hey, wait for me! It's not safe for you to walk around alone at night." He called after you, jogging up to your side. You blinked, feeling your cheeks and ears suddenly start burning when you felt his presence close with yours.

"No, it's okay! I'm sure you have places to be," You smiled, "I always come here, so it's fine."

"Oh yeah? But isn't this place kinda dangerous?" He asked.

You blinked. "... Not the safest place I guess. But I know everyone around here, so..."

The man walking by your side obviously wasn't local. You'd never hear a member of the community spouting taboo like that, for this was actually one of the safer sides of the town.

"Huh..." He hummed with a tone laced with interest. He lingered his gaze over you, taking in some of your features. He trailed his visage up to your face, which consisted of soft features and eyes that shone brightly even in the dark. He wondered to himself how on Earth anyone here could be able to possess such beauty. That suddenly reminded him of the bus ride. "Hey, weren't we on the bus together?"

So he did notice.

"Yep, I saw you at the bus stop." You nodded.

He grinned. "Right! I thought you were stalking me."

Your jaw dropped and you shook your head at him with denial. "No way! Why would I stalk you?" You exasperated.

He shrugged. "Well, I guess I am pretty hot," He had a point there, but that was not a reason to commit such a felony. More like it was because he looked like he'd have a full wallet. You hummed, staring back at his eyes. Jesus, he really did have a strong resemblance with Allen. They even had a similar facial structure, except his was more of a babyface compared to Allen's. That was possibly why he was so attractive.

"No, I'd say narcissistic." You teased, earning a whine from him.

"Hey! I'm not!" He shot back.

The two of you were so immersed in the friendly conversation that the two of you hadn't realized that you were both subconsciously walking to the same house. It wasn't until you knocked on the door with your fist and Allen appeared that you even noticed. The door swung open to reveal a lazy-dressed boy, in nothing but knee-length tan shorts and a tight black crop top. Without sparing him a glance, you darted your round eyes over to the man standing beside you and he appeared just as shocked as you did.

Amazement flashed in your eyes and you brightened. "Wait! Why are you here?!" You exclaimed.

He widened his eyes and he laughed. "I'm visiting my cuz, what are you doing here?"

"Holy moly. I'm just here to return Allen's phone!" You replied, your heart fluttering in excitement. He was Allen's cousin? You thanked God that you met him! "Wow, I should've known! So you were the rich boy he was talking about!"

The auburn haired boy behind the fly screen felt his breath hitch. "... What the fuck?"

What were you doing with him?

He flashed you his pearly whites and nodded. "That's right! I'm Allen's cousin! The name's Alfred by the way." He held out a hand for you to shake and you took it gladly. "I'm (F/N), it's nice to finally know your name!" You laughed. "I'm a friend of Allen's,"

"Alright, enough yapping the two of you." A gruff voice cut in, followed by the ear-piercing creak of the fly screen. He loved your visits, but he despised Alfred's. The fact that you were here with him created a concoction of something far worse. "Hurry up and get inside, dollface." He was annoyed, and you could tell by the tone of voice. How could his luck go any more sour? The sight of you being so friendly with the boy he hated made him want to punch a wall. By the looks of it, Alfred had taken a large liking to you when he offered a hand for you to shake.

He almost never did to anyone he met in this neighborhood from his yearly visits.

Looming his tall frame over yours, he placed two hands on your shoulders from behind and hardened his stare at the blonde.

His protective tendencies for you kicked in.

"I see that you've met (F/N)," He then draped another arm around you this time.

Alfred's pupils shrunk and his lips twitched up into a smile. It was one of the strangest smiles you've ever seen, and it wasn't just radiating happiness that it was supposed to do. It radiated a mix of emotions, and joy was not one of them. "Yeah, your friend's pretty cool." He replied. "How come I wasn't introduced earlier?"

You lit up.

"Haha, I asked Allen the same question as well!" You chimed, feeling arms wrap around your neck and shoulders.

"You guys never asked." He grumbled.

"You know, Allen kept telling me how much of an A-hole you were, but apparently not!" You teased, unbeknownst to the tension that was starting to thicken the air again. The boy behind you narrowed his blood red irises dangerously and glared over at Alfred. It belonged to that of a wolf, and it spat nothing but what-are-you-doing-back-the-fuck-off.

Allen felt anger boil inside of him and he tightened his strong arms around you. What the hell did Alfred do? How the hell did the two of you meet? And most importantly, why did you not see him as what he truly was?

Alfred chuckled dryly. "Yeah, that's what he always says. I'm not that much of a jerk, am I?"

He flickered his gunmetal blue eyes over to Allen. It was swirling with nothing but mischief and triumph.

"You're really nice, so no. I don't know what he's talking about!" You continued, turning over to Allen behind you and handing him his phone. He took it with a lazy grin and slid it in his pant pocket. "Here's your phone, you idiot. You need to stop forgetting it, honestly."

"Thanks, babydoll," He cooed, darting his crimson red irises back to the visitor with a smirk. "I don't use it too much so I'm not bothered to take it with me."

"And you keep saying that I'm the airhead?" You pressed firmly. "You're gonna lose it someday."

"Not when you're around to look after it," He winked, directing this one straight at his cousin. He swore he caught his hands clench into tight fists.

There were many things that day to be pissed about for each and every one of you. First things first, Allen's stupid tendencies to leave his shite around and leaving it for your care. A nasty surprise on the said boy's door front and the chummy relationship you shared with him that was able to get under Alfred's skin. This was going to be an interesting recount of a relative's visit gone wrong.

#hetalia #hetaliafanfiction #hetaliaxreader #reader #readerinsert #aph #axis powers hetalia #axis powers ヘタリア #aphamerica #americaxreader #2ptalia #2ptaliaxreader #2pamerica #2p!americaxreader #chapter #series #2p america x reader

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calligraphist-artemisia · 6 years ago

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Marks of the Soul (Chapter 4)

Summary: AU. Everyone has a mark somewhere on their body which corresponds to the moment they realize they’re in love with their soulmate, commonly referred to as a Soulmark or just a Mark. Even in space, so very far from home, the Paladins find themselves dwelling on their own Soulmarks and what their unusual forms might mean for them.

Pairings: Keith/Pidge, Lance/Allura, Hunk/Shay, and Shiro/Matt

Chapter 1 - Previous - Masterpost

Also posted on AO3 and fanfiction.net

Chapter 4

Thace found himself struggling to keep up with the young Marmoran as they dashed through the Castle they'd landed in. He clutched at his wound with one hand, hoping he could hold out until he could get proper healing. It throbbed with every step he took, slowly growing larger and larger.

It didn't take long for him to figure out why Keith was in such a rush. The slumped over form of the Black Lion told him all he needed to know – its Paladin was hurt, or worse.

Thace stopped a respectful distance away, watching as the other three paladins joined the one in red and they all boarded the Lion. Within minutes, there were more hurried footsteps behind him and he turned to face the newcomers, hoping they would recognize him as an ally.

He saw Kolivan first. His leader's imposing form was a welcome sight on a ship full of strangers. The pair next to him could only be the Alteans who had Zarkon so furious. And behind them...

“Ulaz?” Thace whispered the name, staring at his Mate's tall form as though he was looking at a ghost. He'd heard of the Thaldycon outpost and had assumed the worst, yet there he was.

Ulaz stared back at him, his mouth open slightly in surprise.

Kolivan looked mildly amused as he motioned for the Alteans to move out of the way, just in time for Thace to unfreeze and dart past them to get to Ulaz. His Mate eagerly wrapped his arms around him, keeping him close as they both basked in the feeling of being together again after so many years apart.

“I have missed you,” Ulaz murmured.

The tightness in Thace's chest eased the longer he stayed pressed up against him. It really had been too long. “I heard about your base. I thought I'd lost you.”

“You almost did,” Ulaz admitted, his voice heavy with guilt. “The green one saved me. Just as the red one saved you.”

Thace winced. He'd hoped no one else would learn about that. The injury he received from the druids was one that would cause a slow, painful death without the right treatment. At the time, death by explosion sounded like the better option.

“He is young to wield a blade,” Thace said, changing the subject.

“Kolivan put him through the Trial and he passed, with no training or guidance from us. He is... an unusual cub.”

Thace was aware of movement nearby and turned his head to watch the paladins disembark from the Black Lion, each of them with grave expressions. He focused on Keith in particular. There was something familiar about him, but he couldn't place why. He'd certainly never seen him before their meeting on Zarkon's main ship.

His wound throbbed in agony and he clung to Ulaz as his knees buckled beneath him.

Ulaz swore as he found himself supporting his Mate's full weight. “Thace! You should have said something!”

“You distracted me from the pain.”

Ulaz refused to be flattered by that and soon Thace found himself swept up off of his feet and whisked away to be healed. As they spun around to go, he caught sight of Keith's expression flickering from pure distress to something more like distressed confusion just long enough for him to place why he looked so familiar.

“Krolia?” he asked quietly.

Ulaz nodded.

Thace let his head fall against Ulaz's shoulder with an amused huff. “That explains a few things.”

He had a feeling they would be keeping a very close eye on the cub.

Lance felt as though he hadn't slept in months.

Eight days had passed since Shiro vanished from the Black Lion. Eight days of being tormented by nightmares – when he actually managed to fall asleep, that was. Eight days of watching Keith frantically search, snapping at anyone who dared suggest he take a break. Eight days of Pidge staring unblinkingly at a screen, using every tool at her disposal to try and determine the place Shiro had most likely ended up. Eight days of Hunk stress baking when he wasn't attempting to help Pidge. Eight days of Allura struggling to keep her composure without Shiro by her side to lift some of the burden from her shoulders.

Zarkon was defeated, but the empire remained, and so Voltron was still needed. There wouldn't be a return to Earth in the near future.

There was still so much they had to do. So much he hadn't considered.

Real life was never as easy as things were in stories. It wasn't as simple as “and so the heroes beat the bad guys and went home to live happily ever after”. There were planets still enslaved – full of people who needed their help. They were the only ones who could help.

“Ah, Lance! There you are!” Coran said as he popped his head into the room. Even he was sporting dark circles under his eyes. “Princess Allura would like to see you on the bridge. She and Kolivan have come up with a plan for freeing several nearby planets in this system.”

Lance slowly got up, his body protesting the simple movement. “Sure thing. I'll be right up.”

He couldn't even muster up the energy to be excited about Allura specifically requesting him. And while he doubted he'd find any of his old enthusiasm while Shiro was missing, he knew he had to try. Everyone had a role to play. Maybe his was boosting team morale?

Keith storming out at the very first coalition dinner didn't come as a surprise to anyone. To tell the truth, they'd all been wondering when the explosion would happen after it had spent so long building up.

It didn't make it any easier to see him in such pain.

Pidge wanted to follow the moment he stood up. Some part of her demanded it, but she didn't. Couldn't. She sat there with her head bowed, trying to stay strong for the sake of the team and to show their new allies she could keep her cool when things got hard.

From the corners of her eyes, she could see Thace slip out of the room after Keith. She wasn't sure why, but he and Ulaz had made it their personal mission to watch out for him. Knowing that one of them was going to try and help let her relax for the last few doboshes of the dinner, which felt as though it dragged on forever.

The moment she was able, she left to track them down. It wasn't hard to find him, especially with a little help from the Castle's built-in sensors.

“...don't know if I believe in any of that anyway.”

Pidge paused outside of the door at the sound of Keith's voice.

“Even Galra have Soulmates. It isn't something that we're given a choice in and platonic relationships are not unheard of. Are you certain you and Shiro are not-?”

“We're not,” Keith said firmly. “I know we aren't. And I don;t want him to be. Soulmates... they leave and that's it. That's the end. There's no coming back from that. I'm not...” He huffed angrily. “I don't need a Soulmate. I'm fine on my own.”

“You would deny the bond?” Thace asked, his voice rumbling with disapproval.

Keith's response was too quiet for Pidge to hear. She slowly backed away from the door, unsure of how to process what she'd accidentally overheard. It was something unthinkable, to deny a bond with your Soulmate. But at the same time...

Had she not had similar thoughts, upon learning her own was likely a member of the Blade of Marmora – and a Galra?

But what did Keith mean about Soulmates leaving?

Pidge frowned. She had a startling lack of knowledge about her fellow Arm of Voltron and she'd never really considered it a problem. He was just Keith – kind of a hot-head, but reliable and a decent conversation partner in the late hours of the night, long after everyone else had gone to sleep. But what else did she know?

He'd known Shiro for ages, that much had been obvious from the start. It was easy to see why someone would look at the close bond they shared and assume that they were Soulmates. She'd thought so too, at first, but all of those late-night conversations had her seeing that wasn't it at all. He had a great deal of respect and admiration for Shiro and there was no doubting the love they shared, but they weren't Soulmates.

Family. Shiro was his family. Like a brother. Like her and Matt.

There was something else about family. Tidbits she'd picked up on, but never dared to ask about. Stuff that felt too much like taboo.

Keith was part Galra, which meant one of his parents was Galra. He'd mentioned looking for family when they were discussing their plans for once they defeated Zarkon. If Keith's missing parent had left when he was younger – if they'd left behind their Soulmate and child...

What happened to the one left behind?

It was like being flung through the air and slammed into a wall hard enough to knock all of the breath from his lungs.

Allura stood before him, looking somewhat unsure as she held her helmet in her hands. Her armor – crafted for her new role as the Paladin of the Blue Lion – was something unexpected. Normally, Lance would have been thrilled that she'd picked him to be the first person to see her in it, but the sight of that symbol across her chest left him frozen.

Pink.

It was pink.

The same shade as the Mark imprinted on his thigh.

Pink for her armor.

Silver-white for her hair.

Blue for the Blue Lion.

He should have been delighted! There she was, even more incredible than he could have dreamed – his Soulmate.

Allura was his Soulmate! He wanted to shout it from the top of the Castle spires! He wanted everyone to know he'd finally found her! He wanted to tell her, to open his heart up to the bond they were meant to share!

But how could he when he only found out because of the horrible situation they were in?

Found only because Shiro was gone. Found because they had to pick a new Black Paladin. Found because when Keith stepped up to lead, he was chosen by the Red Lion, and then Allura was welcomed by Blue.

All because Shiro was gone.

Lance wouldn't cry. He would stay strong. It was important for Allura and he wasn't going to ruin her moment.

“Pink, huh?” he asked, hoping she couldn't tell how shaken he was.

One day he would be able to tell her, but it wasn't that day.

#voltron #kidgemas #allurance #hunay #shiroxmatt #soulmate au #fanfiction #soulmark au #have some thulaz as well #maybe I need to write a backstory fic with thace ulaz and krolia

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moonraccoon-exe · 6 years ago

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I’ve been following you for a while now and I wanted to say that you’re actually adorable and so wholesome and I literally love what you post. I love your responses and you just seem like an amazing person. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being you. You’re wonderful and never ever change. 💜

Oh, no.

No, what are you doing? Omg, no. This ask- I…I don’t know how to reply to it. I really have no idea how to thank you enough, or what to say, or if I even have words enough to tell you how much I value this, and how much it’s touched me in my little raccoonie heart. It’s just…wow. Oh my. I’m…speechless… ;___;

I’m totally overwhelmed, to be honest. Speechless, in awe, overwhelmed, and at complete loss of words. Just wow. What am I supposed to say? How am I supposed to have an answer that’s enough to compare to the absolute sweetness, kindness, and everything about this?

Wow…I’m…I’m… gljkalsjsklgdsjd ;____;

Lemme- lemme add a keep reading here, okay?

I’m sorta sad because I really, really, really don’t know what to reply. I’m literally completely out of words, there’s no way I can say thanks enough for this. It’s truly amazing and overwhelming, this ask is…wow. Incredibly, profoundly touching, and so impossibly sweet, I don’t know what to say.

I can’t believe that you’ve taken the time and the gesture to just say this. I mean, people have dropped by to say thanks for something, but this is…not that common. For someone to drop by to say thanks because I’m me, not for something specific, and with such sincerity…it’s truly overwhelming, and a little beyond me. You’re telling me I’m sweet, but I can hardly remember if I’ve ever done something like you’ve done, and just take the time to drop in somebody’s ask to tell them something as impossibly beautiful and amazingly sweet as this.

Thank you so much. I don’t know how else to say it. Thank you for everything, for every word you wrote. Thank you for following my blog! I’m hapy that you’re around and that you’ve been for a while. Some people quit after seeing the spam I make, hahaha, whic h is okay! But I truly value and treasure that you stayed. Thank you so much. I hope that whatever I post is to your interest

Thank you so, so, so much for saying that I’m adorable. That’s such an…adorable compliment, haha! Seriously, it’s just…so sweet, omg, you have no idea. Thank you, thank you, thank you. :’3 It makes me so happy. I like to let myself go and act as bubbly and bouncy as I normally don’t in real life, so that you think it’s adorable is touching and cute as itself, haha! Thank you /u\

And wholesome…Astrals. I don’t think somebody’s ever called me that before. It’s something so…aw man, I’ve been sitting here for like a whole minute trying to come up with how it makes me feel, but I can’t! I’m at loss of words, I REALLY CAN’T FIND HOW TO LET YOU KNOW HOW TOUCHING THAT IS!!! How sweet, how kind, how moving, omg. Thank you so much. Wholesome…. hngnhg. I don’t know why you think that…but if you do, it means I’ve been doing something right. And that sorta…motivates me? Makes me proud? Happy?

It’s just so amazing that you think so. Thank you so much. I never thought of myself in that way, not particularly, so that you say it smacks me in the face and makes me feel so…complete? :’) Thank you. Seriously, thank you.

I’m happy to know that you like what I post!! I have a LOT of love for FFXV (and for Ace Attorney, or Dragon Age, or Type-0, which are the other things that I sometimes let slip between the XV stuff :3), so I guess it’s just natural that my blog has that happy vibe, even if it’s a bit spammed! Thanks a lot and so much for saying that you like what I post. I put lotsa effort into this blog, so that you say that boosts my motivation!!!! Thank you so much for appreciating my blog. I really dearly value that :’3

And my responses! That’s such a WONDERFUL and touching thing to know. I’m usually very anxous and nervous that people hate my responses, because they’re normally long, or many in the same day, so I think that nobody cares. That’s why I sometimes tag some with coonreplies, not much to keep track of them as it is for others to blacklist, because I know I reply to lots of stuff….

So that someone enjoys of tem, I mean, someone other than the person I reply to as themselves…wow. It’s truly touching. 2 or 3 other people have told me they like my responses too, but 2 or 3 don’t compare to the blogs that are “following” me. So that’s why I still get nervous.

That you say that you like my responses is truly both reassuring and so wonderful. I can’t believe I’m being read! Thank you for not letting my words go to the void. You don’t have to read all my responses if you don’t want to, but I value so much that you don’t hate them. Thank you, thank you. :’)

“Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being you.”

I keep reading this. I’ve had this in my inbox for a couple days now, and every day I keep reading this, and as I’m answering I’m taking breaks to go back up and read it again, and I keep doing it over and over, and it still doesn’t fit in my head. It’s such a giant thing to say; such a giant…it’s not a compliment. I don’t know what to call it. But it’s giant, and it’s so overwhelming to me.

To thank someone only for being who they are…

I think…or I feel, at least, like that’s the summit of what someone can tell you. They’re not telling you you’re great or saying how nice you are, they’re…thanking you for being you. Just for existing as you do. Maybe, and forgive me if I am, I’m just exaggerating and reading too much into it, but it’s not always that people value who you are, even less common it is to be thanked for it. Life isn’t always kind, and not at every stage of it do you get compliments like this.

Thank you. Thank you from the deepest part of my little raccoonie heart for saying such a beautiful thing. I value the power of words a lot, and yours have had a big impact in me. I feel emotional thanks to that little sentence, but in a very wonderful way.

Thank you for thanking me for something like that. I feel appreciated, valued, acknowledged. I feel proud. I feel happy. And I feel loved.

Thank you for that. People like you are what make me think earth is beautiful. Not everyone, any day, goes around making someone feel all the things that you made me feel with just that sentence. Positivity is missing and lacking; love for strangers/acquaintances is tabooed. Not in you; you’re that sparkle among the mostly dark world that, at least today, has gifted both things to me, and it’s truly a blessing, and a gift that I’m not sure I can thank you for.

Thank you. I’ve said it too many times here, and I hope I’m not killing its impact, it’s just that I truly can’t say it enough. Thank you very dearly, my wonderful friend. Thank you wholeheartedly, thank you dearly, thank you profoundly from deep within for all that you’ve said, and all that you’ve gifted me in this ask.

Did you know that the things we see in others, we can see because we too have those things? All what you’ve told me I have- the adorableness, the wholesomeness, the thanks-for-being-you. You have them too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to see it in someone else.

So even though I don’t know who you are, it’s jsut by mere logic that I’m sure you’re a wonderful eprson, too, made of a golden yet soft heart, full of sweetness, radiating of kindness and positivity, and full of love. That’s something very brave these days; to be positive, to be kind. To love. I takes something to not let the world overwhelm you with negativity. It’s so easy to let it fall on you and do nothing; it takes a lot to be different.

So thank you, too. Not just for all that you’ve told me, but for being a beautiful sparkle in the world. You’re a vibrant and radiating soul with a gentle but powerful light. Don’t let anything blow your fire off, alright? Meaning…don’t change, either. And if you do, may it be for the brighter, and for the better. :)

*sigh*

Buddy. I’m still at loss of words and not sure what to say or how to say thanks enough. Thank you, seriously, with all that I have, for all that you’ve said to me. I truly value, treasure, appreciate it. Thank you, thank you for giving me this wonderful, unique gift. Thank you for the time and sincerity and effort you put into writing this.

Wonderful, mesmerizing the sort of magic a couple sentences can hold, right?

Thank you for making me happier, making me smile. Thank you for this, it feels like a wonderful, warm hug.

Dear, wonderful hooman, I feel like I’m staying dramtically short in words, but I shall bid goodbye here.

Thank you once more, so profoundly, for everything; for your kind words, for the time, for the love and positivity, for everything that you’ve said to me. For making me happy.

May the stars give you twice as you’re giving me.

I hope you’re having a MOST FANTASTIC and very beautiful day or night, dear friend. Do receive lots of magical vibes from me, and warmie hugs. Thank you. (ɔˆ⌣(ˆ⌣ˆc)

#coonreplies #this is like christmas but better #a gift for coon

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