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ineffable-endearments · 6 months

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The Crow Road by Iain Banks

I finished The Crow Road and had a little time to think about it. I'll put my thoughts under a Keep Reading in case anyone is trying to avoid spoilers.

As I speculated before, I think it's likely that The Crow Road is more related to Good Omens in philosophy than in plot. I mean, it's not that the plots necessarily have nothing in common, and we could be very surprised in the end of course, but now that I've read the whole book, its philosophical commonalities with GO are both apparent and kind of inspiring. Also, if I were a writer, I'd be more interested in dropping hints about what themes are important than telegraphing my whole plot ahead of time.

So here, I will describe the book and point out themes that I believe may reappear in Good Omens 3.

This is a long post. If you read it, make a cup of [beverage of choice].

Update on 4/20/2024: I made a second post: The Crow Road and Good Omens: Further-Out Thoughts

Below are mentions of suicide, death/murder, and sexual acts.

The Crow Road centers around a character named Prentice McHoan, a university student in Scotland who starts to sort out his complicated relationship with his complicated family as he explores the mystery of his uncle Rory's disappearance. Although the book is mostly from Prentice's perspective, the narration jumps around in time with the McHoan family. There are quite a lot of important characters to keep track of; the bare-bones summary I put below doesn't even include some of the important ones. I wanted to make the summary even shorter and simpler than this, but the truth is that this book is not short or simple, and if I made the summary any simpler, it might be downright misleading.

There are at least three major cultural aspects of The Crow Road that I am inexperienced with: the overall culture in the 1950s-1980s (I was born in 1988, so of course wasn't here for the relevant decades), the international experience of the Gulf War (again, born in 1988), and the history and culture of Scotland itself (I'm USAmerican with only reading as a source). As a result, I'm sure there are important dimensions to the book that I've missed. If someone has a different perspective taking some of these things into account, I'd love to know about it.

Also, keep in mind, there is a great deal of descriptive writing in this book. There are a lot of pages about the geography of Scotland, and about Prentice as a kid, and about Prentice's father and uncles hanging out together in their youth, and about various family incidents, and about Prentice spending time with his brothers and friends. At first, these passages seem to just make things more confusing, and in my head, I accused them of being "filler." But they definitely serve a purpose. They're a way of showing and not telling the characters' attitudes and relationships to each other. More importantly, because we get to actually live these experiences with the characters, they are what give all the plot points below their deeper emotional impacts. In other words, the everyday experiences give the plot its deeper meaning. They resonate with one of the core themes in the novel: that our experiences in life, rather than any supposed existence after death, are what matters.

The Crow Road's story is like this:

Prentice is rather directionless in life, and he seems to have trouble investing any energy in his own future as he moons over his unrequited feelings for an idealized young woman named Verity. Soon, Verity ends up in a romance with Prentice's brother, Lewis, and Prentice feels that Lewis "stole" her from him. Prentice has also become estranged from his father, Kenneth, over spirituality. Prentice believes there has to be something more after death because he feels it would be incredibly unfair if people didn't get anything other than this one life; Kenneth is not only a passionate atheist, but is offended by the notion of an afterlife.

Prentice's uncle Hamish, Kenneth's brother, has always been religious, although his religion involves a number of bizarre and offbeat ideas of his own, with inspiration from more traditional Christian notions. Prentice is not really sure about this ideology, but he's willing to talk to Hamish about it and even participates during Hamish's prayers, whereas Kenneth is openly scornful of Hamish's beliefs. Hamish interprets this as Prentice being on "his side."

Prentice has a few opportunities to go back and talk to his father, and is begged to do so by his mom, Mary, with whom his relationship is still good. Mary doesn't want either of the men to give up their inner ideas about the universe; she just wants them to agree to disagree and move on as a family. Prentice says he will visit, but he just keeps putting it off and off and off.

Prentice acquires a folder containing some of his missing uncle Rory's notes in the process of hooking up with Rory's former girlfriend, Janice Rae, who seems to have taken a shine to Prentice because he reminds her of Rory. Using the contents of the folder, Prentice wants to piece together the great literary work that Rory left unfinished, which Rory titled Crow Road; however, it becomes apparent that Rory didn't turn his concepts into anything substantial and only had a bunch of disconnected notes and ideas. He hadn't even decided whether Crow Road would be a novel, a play, or something else. The few bits of Rory's poetry for Crow Road read are bleak and depressing.

Prentice also spends a lot of time with a young woman named Ash. They've been good friends since childhood and seem to have a somewhat flirtatious dynamic now, but they aren't in a romantic relationship; mostly, they drink and hang out together. Ash tells Prentice bluntly to get his life back on track when she finds out he's failing at school, avoiding his family, and engaging in shoplifting. She is a voice of reason, and when Prentice insists to her that he's just a failure, she reminds him that actually, he's just a kid.

Prentice's efforts to figure out Rory's story or location stagnate, and he continues to fail at school and avoid his father. He then receives word that Kenneth was killed while debating faith with Hamish. In fact, Kenneth dies after a fall from a church lightning rod, which he was climbing in an act of defiance against Hamish's philosophy when it was struck by lightning; Hamish is convinced that Kenneth had incurred God's wrath. Ash is there for support when Prentice finds out about the death.

With Ash's help, Prentice returns to his hometown again to help manage Kenneth's affairs. Prentice speaks with a very shaken Hamish, who is handling Kenneth's death with extreme drama and making it all about his own feelings. Hamish tells Prentice that Kenneth was jealous that Prentice shared more in common with Hamish's faith than with Kenneth's lack of faith. However, this isn't really true, and as he contemplates his father's death, Prentice begins to internalize one of the last things Hamish reported that Kenneth had argued: "All the gods are false. Faith itself is idolatry."

As the chapters go on, Prentice is compelled by some of the meaningful items related to Rory that he discovers in his father's belongings. He gains a renewed sense of purpose trying to solve the mystery of where Rory went and what happened to him. Among the interesting items are an ancient computer disk of Rory's that Prentice can't access with any equipment he can find; Ash uses her connections in the US and Canada to find a computer expert who can finally open the files on it. This takes quite a while, since the disk has to be mailed and Ash's connection is investigating the disk only in his free time.

Prentice also discovers that his feelings for Verity have changed. He no longer feels angry with Lewis for "stealing her." At first, Prentice's narration describes this as his feelings "cooling" as a result of the trauma of losing his father, but interestingly, this soon means Prentice gets to know Verity as a sister-in-law without getting caught up in jealous romantic feelings. Verity gets along well with the family, and Prentice is actually happy to discover that she and Lewis have a baby on the way. Prentice's relationship with Lewis improves greatly as well, partly because he is no longer jealous and partly because he realizes he does not want to lose Lewis, too.

Ash's connection who was looking at Rory's computer disk comes through and sends the printed contents of the files to Prentice. The files reveal to him that Rory likely knew Prentice's uncle, Fergus, murdered his wife by unbuckling her seat belt and crashing their car. Rory had written out a fictional version of events and considered using it in Crow Road. I'm not clear on exactly how certain Rory was about Fergus's crime, or whether Rory would have intentionally reported Ferg, or whether Rory even had enough proof to publicly accuse Ferg of murder, but people would likely have connected the dots in Rory's work and become suspicious of Ferg. For this reason, Prentice believes Ferg murdered Rory as well.

Prentice confronts Ferg. He doesn't get a confession and leaves Ferg's home with no concrete proof of anything; Ferg denies it all. But Prentice is soon physically assaulted in the night, and it seems Ferg was almost certainly the culprit, because he hadn't been home that same night, and he had injuries (probably from being fought off) the next day. A day or two later, Ferg's body is found unconscious in the cockpit of a plane, which crashes into the ocean. It's uncertain whether this was a suicide, but Prentice suspects it was. Rory's body is then soon recovered from the bottom of a waterway near Prentice's home, where Ferg had sunk it years ago.

As the mysteries are solved, Prentice realizes his feelings for Ash are romantic love. However, it's too late, he thinks, because Ash is about to take a job in Canada, where she may or may not stay. Prentice also hesitates to approach her because he's embarrassed about his previous behavior, venting all his angst about Verity and his father. He isn't sure she would even want to be in a relationship with him after that. But the very night before Ash leaves, she kisses Prentice on the cheek, which leads to a deeper kiss. They finally connect, have sex, and confess their mutual feelings. Ash still goes to her job in Canada, but says she'll come back when Prentice is done with his studies that summer.

The relationship's future is somewhat uncertain because something could come up while Ash is in Canada, but Prentice is hopeful. The book ends with Prentice getting ready to graduate with his grades on track as a history scholar, fully renouncing his belief in an afterlife while he acknowledges the inherent importance of our experiences in our lives now, and enjoying his time with Lewis and Verity and his other family members.

What's the point of all these hundreds of pages?

Well, look at all of the above; there's definitely more than one point. But the main point I took away is that we get this one life, with our loved ones in this world here and now, and this is where we make our meanings. There is no other meaning, but that doesn't mean there's no meaning at all. It means the meaning is here.

It's not death that gives life its meaning. It's the things we do while alive that give life its deeper meaning.

The Crow Road is described (on Wikipedia) as a Bildungsroman, a story focusing on the moral and philosophical growth and change of its main character as they transition from childhood to adulthood ("coming-of-age novel" is a similar term that is interchangeable, but more vague and not necessarily focused on morality/philosophy). And, indeed, all of the plots ultimately tie into Prentice's changed philosophy.

After his argument with Kenneth, Prentice feels childish and humiliated, and as a result, he refuses to go back home, which leads to a spiral of shame and depression. Kenneth dies and Prentice realizes it's too late to repair the relationship, which also leads him to realize it's what we do in life that matters, and that therefore, his father's argument was correct after all.

At the end of the novel, Prentice outright describes his new philosophy. However, I can't recall one specific passage where Prentice describes the process of how he changed his mind (if anyone else can remember something I missed, do let me know). There is, however, a moment when his narration indicates that Hamish seems less disturbed by his own part in the incident that led to Kenneth's death and more disturbed by the notion that his beliefs might actually be true: there might actually be an angry, vengeful God. In other words, Hamish's philosophy is selfish at its core.

My interpretation is that when his father died, Prentice realized three things: how utterly self-serving Hamish's devout faith is, how Kenneth's untimely death proves the importance of working things out now rather than in an imaginary afterlife, and how much profound meaning Kenneth had left behind despite having no faith at all. After these realizations, a determined belief in an afterlife no longer makes our lives here more profound like Prentice once thought it did.

Also, it's worth noting that this incident changes Prentice's idea of partnership, too. He loses interest in this distant, idealized woman he's been after. In love as in the rest of life, Prentice lets go of his ideals, and in doing so, he makes room for true meaning, both in a sincere familial, platonic connection with Verity and a sincere intimate, romantic connection with Ash.

But what about the sex scene?!

Yes, indeed, at the tail end of the story, Prentice and Ash have sex and admit they want to be in a relationship together. Prentice's narration describes them sleeping together and having intercourse not just once, but many times, including some slow and relaxed couplings during which they flex the muscles in their private parts to spell out "I.L.Y." and "I.L.Y.T." to each other in Morse code. This is relevant because earlier, they had been surprised and delighted to discover that they both knew Morse code; it isn't a detail that came from nowhere.

I didn't get the impression that this scene was trying to be especially titillating to the reader. It was mostly just a list of stuff the characters did together. I felt the point was that they were still anxious about being emotionally honest, a little desperate to convey their feelings without having to speak them out loud, and awkward in a way that made it obvious that their primary concern was the feelings, not the sexual performance. They cared about each other, but they weren't trying to be impressive or put on a show; contrast this with previous scenes where Prentice would act like a clown in front of Ash to diffuse his own anxiety. I've always thought that being able to have awkward sex and still enjoy it is a good sign.

Okay, so what does this all have to do with Good Omens?

Here's where I have to get especially interpretive. I'm doing my best, but of course, not everyone reading this will have the same perspective on Good Omens, the Final Fifteen especially. I believe similar themes are going to resonate between The Crow Road and Good Omens regardless of our particular interpretations of the characters' behavior and motivations, but I suppose it could hit differently for some people.

The TL;DR: I see similar themes between The Crow Road and Good Omens in:

The importance of mortal life on Earth

Meaning (or purpose) as something that we create as we live, not something that is handed to us by a supreme being

Sincere connection and love/passion (for people, causes, arts, life's work, etc) as a type of meaning/purpose

Relationships as reflections of philosophy

The dual nature of humanity

Life on Earth as the important part of existence is a core theme in Good Omens, and has been since the very beginning. We all already know Adam chose to preserve the world as it already is because he figured this out, and we all already know Aziraphale and Crowley have been shaped for the better by their experiences on Earth. But Good Omens isn't done with this theme by a long shot. I think this is the most important thematic commonality Good Omens will have with The Crow Road. Closely related is the notion that we create our meanings as we live, rather than having them handed to us. Isn't this, in a way, what Aziraphale struggles with in A Companion to Owls? He's been given this meaning, this identity, that doesn't fit him. But does he have anything else to be? Not yet.

Partnerships as a parallel to the characters' philosophical development also resonates as a commonality that The Crow Road may have with Good Omens. Prentice's obsession with Verity goes away when he starts to embrace the importance of life on Earth and makes room for his sincere relationship with Ash. Note their names: "Verity" is truth, an ideal Prentice's father instills in him; "Ashley" means "dweller in the ash tree meadow" in Anglo-Saxon, according to Wikipedia, and "ash" is one of the things people return to after death. Prentice literally trades his high ideals for life on Earth. We see in Aziraphale a similar tug-o'-war between Heaven's distant ideals and Crowley's Earthly pleasures, so I can see a similar process potentially playing out for him.

I don't particularly recall a ton of thematic exploration of free will in The Crow Road. However, there is a glimmer of something there: Prentice feels excessively controlled by Kenneth's desire to pass down his beliefs, and part of the reason Prentice is so resistant to change is simply his frustration with feeling censored and not being taken seriously. As the reader, I do get the feeling that while Prentice is immature, Kenneth made major mistakes in handling their conflict, too. And Kenneth's mistakes come from trying to dictate Prentice's thoughts. There is likely some crossover with Good Omens in the sense that I'm pretty sure both stories are going to take the position that people need to be allowed to make mistakes, and to do things that one perceives as mistakes, without getting written off as "stupid" or "bad" or otherwise "unworthy."

Suffice it to say that the human characters in Good Omens will also certainly play into these themes, but it's hard to write about them when we don't know much about them except that one of them is almost certainly the reincarnation of Jesus. This also makes me suspect perhaps the human cast will be 100% entirely all-new, or mostly new, symbolic of how Aziraphale and Crowley have immersed themselves in the ever-evolving, ever-changing world of life on Earth. Alternatively, if we encounter human characters again from Season 1 or 2, perhaps the ways they've grown and changed will be highlighted. For example, even in real-world time, Adam and Warlock have already, as of the time I'm writing this, gone through at least one entire life stage (from 11 in 2019 to 16 in 2024). They'll be legal adults in a couple of years, and if there's a significant time skip, they could be much older. If characters from Season 1 do reappear and themes from The Crow Road are prominent, I would expect either some key scenes highlighting contrasts and changes from their younger selves or for stagnation and growth to be a central part of their plot.

The more I write, the more I just interpret everything in circles. Hopefully this post has at least given you a decent idea of what The Crow Road is like and how it may relate to Good Omens.

I'll end this post with a quotation that feels relevant:

Telling us straight or through his stories, my father taught us that there was, generally, a fire at the core of things, and that change was the only constant, and that we – like everybody else – were both the most important people in the universe, and utterly without significance, depending, and that individuals mattered before their institutions, and that people were people, much the same everywhere, and when they appeared to do things that were stupid or evil, often you hadn’t been told the whole story, but that sometimes people did behave badly, usually because some idea had taken hold of them and given them an excuse to regard other people as expendable (or bad), and that was part of who we were too, as a species, and it wasn’t always possible to know that you were right and they were wrong, but the important thing was to keep trying to find out, and always to face the truth. Because truth mattered. Iain Banks, The Crow Road

#good omens #the crow road #good omens book club #go3 speculation #s3 speculation #good omens 2 spoilers #go s2 spoilers

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nnight-dances · 2 years

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SOME GUY!

pairings: mark lee x f!reader genre: fluff, angst, heated moments tropes: close friends to lovers?, mark avoids u because he's stupid, taeyong as your perfect ex who's still in love w u, u kiss mark's face to shut him up. warnings: mint ice-cream slander, mark is some guy, skinship, college frat party, not proofread.

author's note: haha guess who's in their mark phase hhhhh... sorry he's just such an interesting guy i could write him all day long. either way!!! more mark appreciation, less depression <3

—

at the end of the day, mark really was just some guy.

that’s what he thought to himself everytime he sat down to really consider the reality of all things. he doesn’t mean to get all self-deprecating and emo like that, but it was just a neutral truth thing that kinda hurts the first time you realize it but then it’s just the obvious thing in your daily life. but of course, if he ever did tell someone that he always felt like some guy among a bunch of cool guys, regardless of their gender, he would have to sit through one of those ultimately useless and pitiful speeches about how talented he really was.

— “you know what? you’re right!”

mark’s thoughts zap off their route when he hears you agree with his remark a few seconds ago. honestly, he hadn’t been completely sure if you’d heard him because of the lack of reaction you’d given him. but when you suddenly chuckle and agree with him, mark chokes over the stream of dr pepper in his throat.

he coughs desperately, “wait, what?”

your smile widens, “you’re just some guy. that’s like the perfect description of you.”

under normal circumstances, mark thinnks he would’ve been offended by how certain you sound. but the way you say it? it’s not like you’re trying to be mean or condescending… more like you’re just saying the truth. the neutral truth thing…

“i can’t believe you,” mark mutters, face splitting in a laugh, “i can’t believe you’re agreeing with me!” you look slightly confused but continue, “don’t tell me you’re hurt? you were the one who brought it up!”

mark shakes his head, controlling his laughter, still slightly losing his mind. “you’re really something, bro. i just didn’t expect you to actually be honest.” he laughs again, taking a sip of his drink again, becoming aware that he was being too loud for a bookstore. thankfully though, on a brief glance around, nobody seemed to care.

you fiddle with the zipper of your pencil pouch in thought. then, a shrug as you look back at mark, “hmm, isn’t that funny. i’m some thing, you’re some guy.”

mark falls into another fit of laughter before he knows it, disbelieving more than anything over your badly disguised shamelessness. you hold in a laugh as you land the last punch to his gut, “the perfect pair, isn’t it?” — the punch that sends him right into an oblivion of a world where nothing except you makes sense.

(ok perhaps, mark was being a tad dramatic. you know what he means though: he’s smitten.)

—

if someone were to kidnap you for the purposes of interrogating your honesty behind your claims that you thought mark was some guy, you’d probably get shot in the head instead, because there was no way you were letting anyone in on the information that you did not actually consider mark some guy.

maybe, a little, yes, but at this point, the phrase ‘some guy’ needs some more definiton. some guy as in boring and bland and dry and overdone? absolutely not. if that was what mark was, you wouldn’t have been committing every last one of your wednesday evenings, aka the only free evenings you ever get, to sitting in a crowded bookstore to pretend to do homework with him. you never did homework with mark around.

mark was the kind of some guy that was just being himself. yeah, that’s all you got. mark was mark. good explanation.

“bro? y/n, you good?”

you blink, finding mark swaying in front of you. you were currently sat on a bench near the building where your next class was.

“uhh, sorry,” you take off your headphones to look up at mark, “what are you doing on this part of campus?”

mark shrugs with a playful smile, “why can’t i be here?”

“because you literally don’t take any classes in the econ department?”

he shrugs again, “what if i’ve changed my ways? we’re still young and free, y/n, think a little outside the box, won’t you?”

“you’re taking econ? how- how did you-?”

“oh, look at that,” mark cuts you off, holding up his phone in front of your face. the time reads 11:05 am. “it’s time for our class. let’s go.” you’re busy processing his words (our class???) when he pulls you by the arm and toward the hall behind you.

and that’s the story of how you go from knowing absolutely nobody in your econ class, to sitting next mark in the extremely damp and cramped chairs of your econ class which means your arm is constantly touching his which you, for some reason, don’t hate. probably because the chilly fall wind coming through the window next to mark always makes you glad for the warmth.

mark, on the other hand, smiles a small smile whenever you shuffle closer because even though, the guy (doyoung is his name?) in front of him is always asking him to close the window, he would rather not.

—

“you’re kidding? ice-cream? in this fucking weather?” you question mark, coughing a fake cough to make your point.

“what are you, a coward?”

when you give mark an unimpressed look, he breaks a laugh, grabbing hold of you by your elbow. cheekily, he says, “please. for me?”

you frown, feeling your resolve crumble under his stupid gaze, “i hate you,” you say but let mark pull you after him into the tiny corner shop.

the two of you huddle over the menu of the ice-cream shop, and you exclaim quietly, “oh! i’ve been wanting to try their raspberry choco flavor for a while!” mark looks between you and menu, “ah, really? that sounds kinda good.”

then, he shifts to look at the girl behind the counter, “uhh, we’ll have one mint chocolate and one raspberry choco, please.” you gasp at mark’s choice, “m-mint chocolate?! mark. i think i might break up with you.”

mark is too busy reddening at your joke that hits too close to home to notice the worker chuckling at you. she processes your orders and mark has time to recover.

when he looks back at you, you’re still grimacing. “i didn’t think you could get any worse.”

“are you sure you should be saying that to someone who’s treating you to icecream?”

“huh?” your eyes widen and then you smile, “ahhh, i see. i wasn’t aware you were bribing me into have a favorable opinion of you.” before mark can retort though, you continue with a smirk, “i’m not complaining though.”

your smirk both flusters and scares mark because it’s evidence you’re upto no good in your head but before he can air his suspicion, you’re reaching out for the two cones of icecream that the girl is handing out.

“you guys are really cute together,” the worker remarks shyly, giving you a thumbs up of approval.

mark chokes on the first bite of his mint choco icecream. you look at mark and he expects you to shut down the worker swiftly, but then you reach for his hand, pulling him closer with a bashful smile and say, “thanks, that’s really sweet of you.”

“uh-?” you cut mark’s question off by pulling him out of the store after you.

when you’re outside, you burst into laughter at the perplexed look on mark’s look, looking absolutely adorable next to his already melting green blob of an abomination.

—

the next morning, mark is still suffering through it, unable to come to terms with your actions yesterday. they were honestly not out of character for you. you were always one to do shit just because you knew it would get a reaction out of someone else. like, that time you didn’t tell mark he had spinach in his teeth the whole time he was speaking in econ and only told him at the end. yeah, sure, but surely that was different from you pretending that you and mark were together. right?

mark’s pulled out of his thoughts when his phone buzzes next to his pillow. he stirs to his side, opening his phone only to find a text from you.

y/n: fuck u

mark’s heart skips a beat, no matter the fact that you’re swearing at him the first thing in the morning.

mark: what did i do now…

y/n: it’s ur fault

mark: ???

y/n: i’m fuckin sick

“oh, fuck,” mark swears, sitting up with a frown, fingers quickly shooting a flurry of concerned texts back.

mark: oh shit really?

mark: im so sorry

mark: how bad is it?

y/n: it’s just a cold, dw not that bad

mark: what does that mean?

you, however, don’t bother to elaborate any more on your condition, going silent.

he groans, guilt settling in the slouch of his shoulder as he stares at his screen for a solid 10 minutes before giving up on your response. as he gets ready for the day, at the top of mark’s to do list is to visit your dorm room with medicine and snacks.

but by the time 3 pm rolls around, mark finds himself constantly distracted by classes and homeowork. he looks at the time and sighs. you hadn’t managed to get back to him. but considering how he hadn’t seen you in econ or lunch, your cold was more than ‘not bad’.

sitting outside the library to collect his thoughts, he spots chaewon, your roommate. the two of you had run into mark on a grocery shopping errand and mark had had a decent enough conversation to make him run up to chaewon.

“oh!” chaewon is surprised at first when mark blocks her way with a quick hey. “oh hey, mark!”

“um,” mark looks at the take-out box in her hands, “um, is that for y/n?”

“oh, yeah. did you hear? she woke up this morning with a fever.”

“a fever?”

“yeah, it was pretty high too. i had to force her to stay in bed or i think she would’ve just gone to class like the dumbass she is.”

mark frowns, “oh, no. has she eaten all day?”

chaewon hums in thought, “she told me she was fine for breakfast. i’m not sure if she had lunch though so i was just going to take some pizza and salad in case she’s been starving.”

mark’s frown deepens as she adds, “oh i better hurry though! i have to get back here in time for my dance practice.”

“ah…” he scratches his head, “uhh, if you’re busy, i wouldn’t mind dropping it off to y/n.”

chaewon raises an eyebrow, “wait, really? you’d do that?”

“um, yeah. it’s my fault she got sick anyway. i made her eat icecream last night.”

she laughs, “a little icecream wouldn’t have done that. but sure! it’d be a great help, if you did that. thanks, mark.”

mark hadn’t thought this through, he realizes when he reaches the door that reads y/n on the door, right next to chaewon. he takes a deep breath, clearing his throat, before knocking on the door. “y/n?” his voice breaks mid-sentence and he wants to hide in a hole somewhere, but you’re quick to throw your door open.

your hair is up in a bun which bobs in rhythm with your head, when you find mark outside your room, “mark? what the fuck are you doing here?”

“you weren’t responding to my texts,” he mumbles, and then holds up chaewon’s takeout box in one hand and in the other, the bag of medicine and snacks he’d packed. “i come bearing gifts though.”

you cough hoarsely into your elbow, pulling at the hem of your green hoodie as you consider mark in front of you. “you could’ve told me you were coming,” you sound… shy? mark thinks as he follows into your room after you gesture him to enter.

he looks at your bed and chuckles at the mess that is your bed. then, he smiles as he looks at the eccentric yet coherent collage of pictures and letters on your wall. “this is so you,” he comments and places the food and medicine on your table.

you pout, “a room that looks like all hell broke lose… is me? wow, thanks, mark.”

mark wants to refute your comment, he does, but then he gets distracted by how the way you say his name in your hoarse inside voice and he coughs a little. “i got you medicine though?” he sounds squeaky to his own ears.

you smile though at that, looking inside the bag he’s kept. “ahhh, ramen! i knew i could count on you, mark lee.”

mark almost wants to beg you to stop saying his name so much. but instead he shoots you a thumbs up, “how are you holding up?”

you nod in thought, still unpacking everything mark bought, “hmm, i’m alive. you should’ve seen me in the morning though i felt like something was trying to crawl out my skin.”

you laugh at the imagery, pausing when you catch the guilty look on mark. you already know he’s about to apologize when he opens his mouth. you hold up a finger threateningly, “i know i said that in the morning, but it’s not actually your fault. i always get sick like this every time fall rolls around.”

“no, for real though, i did force you to come eat icecream with me, didn’t i? i’m sorry.”

“ugh, mark, trust me, i wouldn’t have eaten the icecream if i really didn’t want to,” you say, too kindly for your usual snarkiness as if you can sense how genuine mark’s apology was, “for real, my body’s just weird like that.”

when mark remains silent for another minute, you groan, “i know! you can repay me. stay and we can watch a movie or something. all the sleeping’s making me feel gross. plus, i couldn’t eat all this food myself.”

and that’s how mark finds himself settled next to you on your bed, blanket covering half his body, watching gilmore girls (your fall preference of entertainment, it seems). the first half hour went by fine, with one of you commenting ocassionally at something the characters did, but then you shifted closer to mark with a cough.

he was shocked at first but then he wonders if the medicine you’d taken before were starting to take effect. (he’d questioned how wise it was for you to be taking them before watching something, but he also didn’t want to make your condition worse.)

“you good, y/n?” he mumbles under his breath when he feels your head come to rest against his shoulder. he sounds surprisingly calm for the turmoil that is bursting within his veins at the contact.

you hum in acknowledgement, sniffing a little, “yeah, just a little sleepy.”

“oh, you should probably rest then,” mark reaches for the spacebar to pause the episode but your cold hand pulls his finger away. except you don’t let go of his finger, instead seeming to crave warmth, you’re suddenly holding his hand, icy fingertips coming to rest against the back of his palm.

mark’s hearbeat is in his ears by now but he lets you hold his hand as you protest, “mm, don’t wanna sleep. just keep watching.”

you don’t sound promising but he doesn’t argue, letting you having the final say in this situation.

five minutes later though, you stir against mark’s side, arm now in his lap and… yeah, you’re falling asleep.

mark freezes at the realization when he sees your eyelashes fluttering shut. oh god. oh no… this wasn’t good for his well-being. or his obsession with you. or anything.

he clears his throat, hating himself, “um, y/n?”

you don’t respond except for a short grunt that indicates you don’t intend to wake up. he doesn’t have the heart to move you but also, this wasn’t right, was it?

there wasn’t anything wrong with it per se, except of course the fact that it did not help mark’s big fat ugly crush on you or the fact that he spent the whole day thinking about how you were sick and it was his fault.

you move slightly in your sleep, suddenly seeming to come to. your eyes open a little, “mark?” your voice is dangerously low.

“yeah?” mark can hear the nerves in his voice.

you’re pulling him now, without a warning, onto your bed. “you’re warm. stay.”

mark’s eyes widen when you turn to hug him around the waist.

fuck. fuck. fuck. FUCK. this was… THIS IS…. UTREJKLSGIURKEJU?????YGSAELRIAY

mark brain malfunctions for a good minute before he remembers how to think. first, he thinks he has to leave or you’ll hate him forever. but when he tries to budge, you groan an annoyed groan making him scared to leave..

??? what is one supposed to do in these circumstances?

he stills, deciding it was better if he let you doze off comfortably. he slowly places an arm around your shoulder, patting a reassuring back rub into your skin. you nuzzle closer into him, clueless of the way mark is short-circuiting.

before he knows it though, mark finds himself dozing off, chin pressed up against the bone of your shoulder. the sleep isn’t chaotic like his thoughts usually are, but it’s a peaceful sleep, the kind that you only get when you share a bed with someone.

—

ever since that eventful… nap, mark has found himself growing closer to you, in all senses of the phrase. you’d seemed to start trusting mark more, your bookstore evenings turning into whole days spent in each other’s company. sometimes you’d be at each other’s room, more often yours, but otherwise, you’d end up in some new corner of campus, giggling over half-completed essays and collectively complaining about econ.

you’d also grown closer… physically. something about spending a sick evening in someone’s arms, you’d like to say. whatever the reason was, one way or another, you’d find a way to be next to each other.

you’d made a habit of holding mark’s hand, especially on colder days when your fingers lost all feeling till you pressed them into the knuckles of mark’s warm ones. other times, mark’s hand would be on your shoulder or back, casually doodling into your skin, a lazy smile on his face while you dramatically narrate some event from your life.

mark could tell something was different, though he dared not investigate what it was, too afraid to mess up what he had right now.

but then, he does the stupid thing of asking you the question.

it’s on a late night hangout in your room when chaewon’s out for the weekend to visit home, and y’all are sprawled on your bed, exhausted from a movie marathon.

something about the dim lights and the way you lean against his shoulder, makes him speak. “do you like someone right now?”

for a good while, mark thinks he mustn’t have asked the question out loud because of how quiet you are. but then, “what about you?”

“not fair! i asked you first,” mark complains with a chuckle. you shrug, “not telling if you don’t.”

he rolls his eyes, “two can play this game, y’know. i’m not giving.”

“ugh, fine. i’ll tell you about my ex for now.”

mark’s ear perks up at the mention and he waits for you to continue.

“ah, this is so embarassing to talk about. but.. last semester i was with taeyong.”

“wait. lee taeyong?”

“mhm-hm. you know him? he was a good guy, but i don’t know, something felt off. we broke up right before new year’s eve so that was fun.”

mark falls silent as he recalls everything he can about lee taeyong. so far he has: perfect face and killer charm. oh yeah, wasn’t he a student athlete?

“you dated an athelete?” mark can’t help but ask.

“see! i know you’d make fun,” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

“no- no, i’m not making fun. that’s insane. taeyong is, like, famous.”

you groan, “and you’re listing all the reasons i broke up with him.”

mark isn’t sure what he can do with this information so he releases a strained chuckle, suddenly ready to head back to his room. he can’t be too obvious though, so he waits a bit.

“what about you?” you ask him, poking his arm. “any embarassing boyfriends?”

mark laughs despite it all, “i wish. i was in a silly little relationship but it was so long ago that i hardly remember.” with that, he sits up, a little abruptly.

you frown as he clears his throat, “um, anyway, i should get back soon. i’ve got to sleep.”

“the fuck?” you question, “it’s like 11 pm?”

“well, yeah, i have an early morning tomorrow.”

“on a sunday?”

“yeah, uhm, i forgot to tell you about this new job i have. anyways, i should really sleep soon. i’ll see you later, yeah?”

and just like that, mark leaves your room, with you gaping at how fast he’d made his exit, not even bothering to make real excuses. new job? halfway through the semester? yeah, sure. you feel your mood dampening at mark’s sudden cold shoulder, wondering if you’d upset him. but no matter how many times you thought about it, you weren’t sure what had made him act like that.

mark, on the other hand, can’t get the conversation out of his head, even as he walks to the library at 8 am on a sunday, ready to finish all traces of homework in existence. it doesn’t matter though because sitting in the silence of the study room, his mind repeats your words.

he was a good guy, but i don’t know, something felt off.

boy, did mark feel stupid as shit. for everything? for thinking you were into him. somewhere along the way, your hands on his had him confused. for a minute there, he had stopped thinking about how he was actually just some guy. some guy who you chose to hang out with now and then, some guy who was your friend. mark was nowhere close to being taeyong, and even taeyong didn’t cut it for you. really, though, he couldn’t blame you. you really did deserve the best anyone could imagine.

a text from you interrupts his self-loathing spiralling.

y/n: heyoo!! u alive?

y/n: u left kinda abruptly last night. is everything ok?

mark clenches his fist as if to obliterate the hopeful smile that threatens his face. he thinks of how he might respond: sorry cant talk i’ve to make sure i’m not in love with u before i see u again or maybe: sorry i’m just trying not to cry in broad daylight bc i love u too much hjbykyvkvyf

“fuck! sorry!” a voice pulls mark back from his head. he looks up to see who’s broken into his study room… only to see lee taeyong standing there in confusion. of course this happens to mark.

“uhh, can i help you?” mark barely controls the snap that tries to escape him at the sight of taeyong.

“um, sorry,” taeyong looks down at his phone then back at mark, “i could’ve sworn i booked this room for the next hour…”

mark frowns, certain he’d booked this room for the next two hours. usually, he would’ve just told taeyong he’s booked it wrong, but instead he just says, “oh? i guess you can take this room then. i’ll go somewhere else.”

mark starts packing up but the other boy protests quickly, “no, no! it’s okay. i- um, i’d feel bad if you did that. what if… what if we shared? it’ll be nice to have someone else in the room, no?” taeyong smiles brightly at mark and the latter wants his eyes to stop working already.

call it the law of inertia, but something in mark doesn’t let him just leave the room, almost intrigued by how this might turn out. “alright, then.”

taeyong, as much as mark hates to admit it, is really nice. he hadn’t ever heard anything to refute that, but sitting silently in a room with someone really tells you all you need to know about someone. either way, the study sessions somehow seems to provide mark some sense of peace.

or so he thinks.

what he doesn’t expect is that two hours later, as the two of them are packing up to empty the room for the next occupant, for the next occupant to be… you. yes, of course, that’s gonna happen in this story.

for a moment, mark doesn’t find it particularly shocking to see you but when he notices the stiff look you share with taeyong, he realizes what’s happening.

you’d just entered the room with a knock when you’d noticed who was inside. your eyes travel between mark and taeyong, your mind unable to make sense of this.

your first thought is… is this why mark was weird last night? because he was close to taeyong and got offended by your remarks?

that would be the easy alternate, wouldn’t it? but even you can tell there’s a dryness in the way mark looks at the two of you, a look that unsettles you. of course, the sight of taeyong also unsettles you.

he speaks up before you, “y/n?”

you awkwardly wave at the two of them, “hi mark. hey taeyong. didn’t expect to see the two of you together.”

you look at mark pointedly but he’s not giving you much to work with. he just laughs as taeyong rushes to explain, “ah, i made a mistake in booking this room at the same time as mark, and he was kind enough to let me stay.”

marks want to leave right now. because of the way taeyong’s eyes are sparkling at the sight of you, hands nervously fidgeting. but he decides against it, when he sees you uneasy you seem, tight grip around the strap of your tote bag.

“what are you doing here?” mark asks and a part of you is relieved that he’s talking to you.

“um, homework. i didn’t really know what else to do ever since my friend started ghosting me.”

mark flinches at your attack, but persists in looking as indifferent as he can. “sorry about that, i got caught up finishing this essay.”

taeyong awkwardly coughs, “um, i should probably leave now. i have practice to get to.”

mark is quick to follow after taeyong, scared to death of being alone in a room with you. he doesn’t know what to do with himself around you anymore. “uhh, yeah, i’ll leave you to do homework, then! see ya!”

and just like that, it’s a repeat of last night. mark’s back receding except this time you watch him wave at you with a half-hearted smile as he leaves. you barely manage to close the door behind you before you feel yourself tear up.

this is stupid, you realize through tears, to be crying over something like this. but something like this? it meant a lot to you. you sit where mark sat minutes ago, the same disappointment in your eyes and a similar weight in your heart.

mark is not having the time of his life either though, as he walks out the library with taeyong, who starts asking questions about you as soon as he can.

“so you’re friends with y/n?” mark simply nods at that, having seen this coming.

“that’s cool. she’s really cool, isn’t she?”

“yeah, i suppose. she’s fun.”

“how close are you to her?”

mark laughs dismissively, “haha, i feel like i’ve done something wrong. calm down, bro.”

taeyong flushes at that, rubbing his neck, “oh, sorry. i didn’t mean to interrogate you like that. it’s just… you probably know about us, right?”

that words leaves taeyong’s mouth and buries itself deep into mark’s heart. us.

taeyong continues, “it’s just that i really miss her, man. i don’t think i’ve had as much fun with anyone else since her. or maybe, it’s just because i’m always comparing everyone to her.”

mark really doesn’t know what to say, feeling himself stuck in a similar situation. “hmm, it’ll get better.”

“i hope you’re right,” taeyong says, cheerfully patting mark’s back, “well, i have to go that way. see you around, bro. take care of her.”

take care of her? marks smiles remorsefully as he watches taeyong leave. and he wonders what was going on in your mind when you broke up with someone that perfect? what went on in your head when you befriended mark, just some guy?

—

on saturday, it’s been a whole week since you’ve talked to mark. you’d actually stayed up all night yesterday hoping he’d have a change of heart on friday night, and he’d text you with a can we talk? or come knocking on your door with an apologetic smile with some silly excuse. and you would’ve accepted it all because you were not familar with a mark-less existence. the past week was.. not good for you.

but on saturday night, you decide it’s enough. or rather, chaewon decides it’s enough when she sees you ready to spend the night in bed.

“y/n, i’m sorry but i can’t respect your stupid decisions anymore,” she bursts into the room with a concerned look.

you frown, “ouch? you just called me stupid.”

“because that’s what you’re being. i don’t care if you’re going through it, i’m not letting you woe over some guy on the weekend.”

you grimace at the phrase some guy, remembering your conversation with mark. “hey! i’m talking to you, miss,” chaewon’s hands pull off your bed. “let’s go out tonight. i don’t care.”

“chaewon…” you complain, voice low.

“y/n, my dear friend, stop giving up on life because mark lee is ghosting you. if i know anything about the two of you, y’all will be back to cuddling each other next week.”

you want to say you’re afraid that’s not gonna happen but chaewon is moving too fast for you. she throws a dress at you and then, a coat. “wear those and come to yunjin’s room. we’re pre-gaming.”

an hour later, you’re not feeling so bad after all. you’d forgotten how fun getting wasted really was. you giggle hopelessly when yunjin cracks another “slayyy~” at chaewon’s empty glass. as sakura pours her another shot, you nudge her with your own empty cup.

your roommate frowns a little, “you sure you’re not going too fast?”

you roll your eyes, “chaewon! you’re the one who wanted to slut me out tonight. how am i gonna do that sober?” that makes everyone double up in laughter and you down the vodka with a triumphant sigh.

another hour later, you’re really feeling yourself. the pre-game finally ended with all of you walking to the frat that was throwing tonight. the first step you take into the crowded room has you regretting your decision, but your worries go to waste once you’re hearing the music blast through your veins.

you stay within chaewon’s group for most of the night. the girls are fun, yunjin being one of the best people you’ve partied with. it’s halfway through a doja cat song when you feel your bladder getting full from all the beer. you groan at all the effort it’s gonna take to go upstairs to where the bathroom was, but you could use a break.

you quickly tell chaewon you’ll be back, pointing in the direction of the bathroom and reassure her you’re fine when she asks to come with. the world is definitely spinning as you go up the stairs but you do make it to the top without falling over.

but as soon as you reach for the door of the bathroom, you lose balance as the person inside emerges. “fuck,” you groan, falling over into the person ahead, “’m sorry,” you mumble, supporting yourself against the sink.

you’re ready to push whoever it is out of the bathroom when you heard a familar voice. “y/n?”

you look up and actually gasp when you see mark in front of you. “mark?!” you sound incredulous but honestly, you’re just ecstatic. “i miss you,” you say your thoughts shamelessly.

mark reddens or so your vision tells you. “y/n, are you drunk?”

you frown and shake your head, about to explain yourself when a loud voice outside tells you to hurry up with your business, the door still open. mark shouts a, “find somewhere else, buddy!” and shuts the door, locking it behind him.

your drunk brain isn’t doing well with the concept of you in a locked room with mark. “are you drunk, mark?”

mark laughs at your question, “a little, yeah.”

“okay, good, then can you just-” you lose your balance again and mark steadies you instantly, warm hand on your elbow. you lose your train of thoughts at the feel of him, looking into his eyes wordlessly.

you think you stay there for a minute like that, the two of you just catching up on all the looks you’ve missed out on in the last week.

“why are you mad at me?” you ask the question that’s been bugging you for ages. wanting mark to understand how hurt you’ve been, you pull at the sleeve of shirt, “i’ve been so sad. why are you avoiding me?”

mark takes your hand in his, “no! it’s not like that. i’m… not mad at you.”

“really?” you question him through a pout, “really?”

he doesn’t know what to do when pinned with that gaze of yours in that moment. and then his eyes land up on your lips, your little pout.

he knew the alcohol was a bad idea because now he can’t think straight, knowing he has to explain everything to you or he might lose it all. but somehow, instead of words, he feels another ugre crawl up his skin.

just as you open your mouth to speak, you feel mark’s lips on yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. you gasp into his mouth, and he pulls away just as soon as he leaned in. he drops your hand, falling to his knees.

it takes you a moment to re-orient yourself after the taste of mark in your mouth, but you hear mark sniffle and instantly join him on the ground, hands on his face.

“are you crying?”

mark tries to stop himself but he can’t. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry.”

“hey,” you find yourself sobering up. how could you not when mark lee is in front of you, tears staining his ever-smiling face? “hey, mark, look at me.” he wipes at his face shakily, looking up at you through a fresh flood of tears.

“i’m sorry,” his voice breaks, “i’ve been acting so selfish with you. i shouldn’t have avoided you. i shouldn’t have kissed you. i’m.. it’s all because…” he trails off conveniently at the part of his sentence you most need to hear.

your fingers trail down to his chin, bringing his face back up, “it’s all because of what, mark? talk to me, baby.”

something in mark uncoils when you coo at him lovingly like that, his name as breathy as the nickname you suddenly throw at him. his lip quivers but his words are clear as day, “fuck, i’m into you, y/n. i know i’m just some guy really but i think i like you. i- like romantically, i’m dying to be with you.” he sighs when you don’t say anything, stunned into silence.

your hand stays put on his face though which mark thinks of as a good sign. gingerly, he takes your hand, gaze pointed at your interlocked fingers. “i know it’s awkward because you’re not into me like that. it’s all good, i understand.”

“mark, you’re drunk,” you finally mumble out, hand twitching in disbelief. “you’re just saying things.”

mark stiffens, “w-what? no! i’m serious, y/n. i’m not even that drunk anymore. how could i be, when you’re right here?” but then, he stirs, hands leaving yours, “oh, but if you’d rather forget that this happened—”

it’s a replay of five minutes ago, except this time your lips come crashing into mark’s, with so much force that you topple him over. he takes you with him, hand finding purchase at your waist as he pulls you on top of him, his back hitting the door of the bathroom.

your kiss is fierce, almost angry because you did not deserve to be kept in the dark about mark’s feelings. you push closer to him, making him groan into your lips at the intensity. you pull away then, hand at mark’s chest, “i hate you for avoiding me like that, mark. i can’t believe you.”

mark tries to explain himself but you’re kissing him again, swallowing his words whole, unforgiving in the way your hands grip his arms. again, you pull away, “what did you think? that i’d stop talking to you because you like me? you’re so stupid sometimes, mark.”

“i don’t—”

“no, you don’t understand. do you see me right now?” mark nods, eyes trailing at your disheveled state. mark couldn’t forget this sight if he wanted to: your hair wet with sweat, panting in between mark’s legs, lips a breath away.

“do i look like i hate you?”

“i mean, you do look annoyed,” mark remarks and you slap his arm with a snarl.

“that’s because you’re being unfair. what about my feelings for you, huh?” you challenge with a glare. “what about how much i suffered just because you decided to not show up to the bookstore? all because you came to some stupid conclusion by yourself?”

“wait,” mark starts, but you’re not letting him talk.

“no, listen, if i could, i’d seriously slap you. because i’m that down bad for you, mark! i’ve been thinking about doing this with you ever since you fell asleep in my bed that day. so fuck you, for hurting me like that.”

you’re breathless, eyes still trained on mark with that look of betrayal mixed with desire. you can’t help yourself though, mark looks absolutely breath-taking in front of you, mouth ajar in shock, lips red from your relentless kisses.

mark takes too long to process your words just then, long enough that you’re coming down from your high, embarassment flooding your veins. you go cold, standing up with a grunt. “i’m just gonna go back,” you mutter in disappointment, leaving before you can see mark’s response.

he’s coming back to his senses now, realizing that maybe you were right about how stupid he’d been. “fuck,” he breathes out, regaining his footing as he chases after you.

this chase proves to be difficult, given that the party only seems to have gotten more crowded since mark left. he struggles through the throngs of people, shouldering through, when he spots a silhouette of you in his peripheral vision. you were outside, apparently talking to another taller figure.

mark follows your shadow to the door, quickly making his way out. his breath hitches when he finds taeyong next to you. his arm is around your shoulder and you’re speaking to him in a low voice.

“y/n,” mark calls out, not hesitating to break taeyong’s hold on you, replacing it with his own embrace. he pulls you close. your eyes are teary and you sniff when you see mark, “what-”

“i’m sorry, can we talk?” he mumbles into your side, still aware of taeyong’s presence.

“oh, hey, mark. i was just,” taeyong moves to stand in front of the two of you, “taking care of y/n. she looked sick.”

“i’m fine, taeyong,” you reassure him, pressing yourself into mark’s side. “i’ll let mark walk me home. good night.” mark is impressed at how easily you dismiss taeyong, pulling mark after you.

“what do you want?”

mark stops you from walking, pulling you into a hug instead. “you’re right, i’m really stupid. let me ask you this instead: would you let me be your boyfriend?”

you release a soft laugh against his neck at his question, arms still for a moment for dramatic effect. then, you wrap yourself around him, kissing your answer into his ear, “of course, you idiot.”

—

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creatingblackcharacters · 2 months

Note

i know that lesson 3 touches on this a little with chocolate and coffee, but i have seen some Black people raise issue with any food-related descriptor used for skintone. while intuitively this makes sense, i was wondering if you could provide some context for it?

i love your work and have been here since lesson 1! thank you for this amazing resource!

Well, what do you mean by "intuitively it makes sense"?

I am one who's on the fence about it. I don't hate food words as descriptions, so much as I hate that people will lean on those two specifically as the only two things they can think Black people look like. It lets me know y'all don't actually look at us, content to toss us into two general colors because "oh well the readers will know they're Black". It's lazy, and we can tell when you're doing it- especially when there's canon imagery of said Black character. My point is, I don't think there's "one major answer" about this; different people may dislike it for different reasons.

One thing I have seen as a reason to why food descriptions are distasteful (that was not on purpose lmao) that I personally like is that it... It feels like we're being consumed. It feels like the only way we can be described for people to go "oh, I see, how lovely!" is as something that can be bought, purchased for consumption. Like the only way you can find me lovely is if there's some sort of consumer value, that if my brown can't be compared to something immediately enjoyable to you (and again- to be eaten) that you cant comprehend its beauty or worth.

People generally think that brown things are ugly and boring (which is already a fight), but the two things that they might find that aren't are the two things that they enjoy eating 😅 and again: I don't mind coffee, nutmeg, cinnamon, and those (i do think chocolate is played out). But... There are other browns. We can get creative. I don't think loose leaf white printer paper is an attractive look, but we've found endless ways to describe pale whiteness. 🤣

#creatingblackcharacters #ThatsJustTips

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komorim · 2 years

Text

something more

-> naoya x f!reader (kamo!reader)

[ synopsis. ] naoya had a reputation for being misogynistic, and he certainly didn’t believe that he would ever fall in love with the disgusting creatures called women. the only one worthy of his attention was the strongest female sorcerer, a woman who was nearing in skill to gojo satoru himself. yet the attention doesn’t mean he would treat you any better. but he wished he did.

[ content warnings. ] manga spoilers. misogyny. kidnapping. heavy angst. character death. mentions of child abuse. mentions of suicide. mentions of murder. mentions of attempted murder. mentions of torture. mentions of inhumane experiments. mentions of disability. allusions to sex. miscarriage. description of gore. reader is underweight. reader is older than naoya. belated love epiphany. more pain, possibly more than the suna one :)

[ word count. ] 3.7k

[ author’s note. ] wow. this story went from the original 10+ chapter fanfic to a 3 chapter fanfic to a one shot. after so many trial and errors, i finally decided to make this a one shot, even if that means i’ll have to cut some major plot points. the reason being that this story was developed a bit over a year ago, and i’m honestly starting to lose interest in finishing this as a series. well, here it is!

[ previously named: a cracked shell ]

“i’m home,” naoya says as he slides open the door to your shared room. yet he doesn’t find you in there. he’s confused to say the least. even though you had a small fit with him the other day, it wasn’t nothing serious. you would always pretend as if nothing had happened. you were just like that. you didn’t like conflict, so in order to avoid it, you became somewhat of a pushover when it comes to most things.

your boundaries are set very low, and they continue to lower with every violation of them. it was one of the reasons you and naoya could coexist. he wished for an obedient little wife, and although you weren’t obedient per se, your character in its nature was close enough.

you never acted out of line as you were clear of the troublesome headache it would bring you. and naoya was okay with that.

it would be an understatement to say that his expectations for his wife also lowered. the original idea in his mind was that he would marry a docile, mindless woman who would do everything he asked of her without question. and you don’t fit that description. but he’s okay with you.

you, who is a sorcerer strong enough to rival geto and gojo.

it wasn’t a secret that naoya had always admired the strong. and even if it’s a woman, he’ll show some degree of respect to them as long as they’re stronger or on par with himself.

which is why he’s so lenient with you.

he remembers how miserable you looked when he first met you at the kamo estate when he was eight and you were nine.

the only reason he appeared at the kamo estate was that he heard of a secret kamo child that had been recently escorted back to the estate. though he wasn’t the type to come for solely this minor, insignificant purpose. no, he came since he heard the rumors of what you were.

not only had you inherited the kamo technique of blood manipulation, you also had an immense amount of cursed energy within you. though what made you the most special of all was the essence of your cursed energy.

a cursed energy with scent.

and not only did your cursed energy have a scent to it, the scent was odd. it had the ability to put people in a drunken state upon breathing in the fragrance too much. it was truly odd. something like this had never been seen. it was probably why the kamos were so hell-bent on bringing you back to the estate to recognize you as one of their own.

nine year old you was very similar to how you are like now. quiet, appearing to be uninterested in almost everything, and eerie. almost twenty years later of knowing you, he could never pinpoint exactly what it was, but you always seemed off. it was an eerie aspect that made others uncomfortable in your presence. maybe it was a dominating attribute that came with being that strong.

yet what he didn’t understand was why you always looked so miserable. you were so strong that you could destroy a city and possibly more if you wished. but you were never happy. eight year old naoya thought that if he was that gifted, he’d never have a bad day in his life. maybe it’s because you were born a girl that you are unable to be happy. after all, the elders always spoke of how unlucky it is to be a girl.

that was the first time he met you. only being able to get a glance of your face in a open room. the next time he saw you was at the goodwill event. you appeared to be the same as before. you didn’t speak much, you still looked miserable and unbothered, and you still had that eerie feeling about you.

around this time, naoya had been raised by the zenins’ misogynistic ideals for so long that he has also adopted them himself. and even if he knew that your current abilities can rival even the two most powerful jujutsu sorcerers, you were just a woman. you were born with the right, immense power, but the wrong gender. you were bound to one day become someone’s wife one day, confined to the chains of marriage and the duties of a woman.

your talent and power will succumb to nothing. it’ll all be useless.

maybe that’s when he first started hating you. he envied you for having the power he could not. his eyes grew red at the thought that a woman had received the main inherited jujutsu technique of the kamo clan when he himself only inherited a sub technique of the zenin. he feels frustrated that you have all this power and he’ll never be able to see its full potential since you’re a woman that’s destined to be in a house and nowhere else.

maybe that’s why he was desperate to hunt you down during the goodwill event. he was desperate to prove himself better. he couldn’t stand being weak compared to someone who’s power will become useless one day anyways.

but he lost. zenin naoya had lost. it was humiliating really; the way you barely looked at him as you successfully constrained him, proceeding to leave without a care in the world.

he had felt a new kind of sensation that day. a strong urge to see what kind of faces you can make other than that miserable, unbothered expression.

so when he found out from his father later on that you’ve been engaged to him, he found it perfect. he’ll have the rest of eternity to make you say something, feel something more than hopelessness. you could tell that his preference for said feeling would be suffering, but it’s not like he ever succeeded, so you didn’t pay his unwell intentions much thought anyways.

it was at this point when he finally found out why you always looked miserable. after all, the least he could do as your fiancé was get to know you, albeit you didn’t want him to.

when he heard about your life so far, he laughed a bit. you’re so strong and yet you couldn’t prevent any of the tragic events in your life. the elders were right. a woman like you was destined to live out an unlucky life. but maybe yours was a bit too unfair, even by naoya’s opinion.

secret child born to loving parents, you had been raised without the kamos’ knowledge. at the age of nine, shortly before naoya first met you, an escort had appeared at the peaceful apartment you lived at and supposedly murdered your father. your mother fell into hysteria and blamed your existence for the death of her only love. she looked at you with hatred, with the intent to kill her only child. and when she regained some sense of logic, she would hold you closely and cry. he bets that this on and off behavior you endured also dried you up emotionally. and apparently your mother too, for she committed suicide in her room less than a year later.

before doing so, she didn’t forget to smash a rock onto your head. either trying to take you with her or trying to enact some revenge for the love of her life he doesn’t know. but what he does know is that the damage caused absolutely destroyed your right ear.

irreparable loss of hearing.

however unlikely, it was probably the hearing of your tragic childhood that made naoya show you a bit of kindness after the marriage. he showed some form of respect for you, the one who survived such a past and also you, the one stronger than himself.

you had also noticed this. how he wasn’t exactly like how the rumors depicted him. but you paid no mind, as he still treated you as lesser than. it was to be expected. and although the younger you would scowl at the disrespect shown by someone younger than you, the current you couldn’t care less.

you were only a wife to naoya for one reason. to escape being assigned as the next clan leader.

you could never take that position. not when you saw how the kamo clan had crushed your family. not when you saw how noritoshi hated you for receiving the attention of the elders. you knew about the boy. his mother being a mistress made his standing in the clan awkward. and you knew how much he needed to be the next clan leader in order to reunite with his mother.

so you allowed him to take the position of heir. you declined as your uncle, the clan leader, tried several times to make you the heir. you knew why he treated the two of you so differently. one was the only child of his only little sister, the last blood relation to her on this world, and the other was simply a mistress’s son, albeit his own.

but you couldn’t destroy a family the way he destroyed yours. you didn’t want to watch as noritoshi falls into despair like you. so even when your uncle pressured you with the choice or either marriage or heir, you confidently chose to be married off.

and what a choice it was.

from day one of being zenin y/n, you already disliked the atmosphere of the zenin household. but alas, it was the place where you would be living for probably the rest of your life.

and when the year passed by and you still had no sign of child, the zenin naobito had attempted to have you divorced.

least to say naoya was furious when he heard. why? because he finally had the second strongest sorcerer chained to his side. how was he supposed to just willingly give you up? but he and yourself both know what the cause for your lack of child was.

the fact that naoya refused to touch you.

it’s not like you minded. you had no emotions for your husband; you couldn’t care less if he had someone pleasuring him outside. in fact, you’d probably be better off if he did.

but that wasn’t the reason naoya didn’t want to lay a finger on you. suprisingly, he had more than just one single reason.

one of which was that he still didn’t want to be so intimate with such a lowly creature, a woman. but he needed an heir and he knew this well. actually, it would be best to have his heir be birthed by you. the possibility of your child inheriting some of your incredibly unnecessary cursed energy, or better yet, inheriting your unique scent would be splendid.

but the most important reason was that your body most likely couldn’t handle it. not to mention the mental toll that your past and even the duration you were a sorcerer had on you, you had a more concerning issue. you turned sickly after overexerting yourself during the time at jujutsu high. and although he shouldn’t care so much for a mere woman’s life, he knew that you were different, and he couldn’t afford to lose such a valuable asset like yourself.

he’s seen how pregnancy does a woman over, and as much as no one would believe it, he doesn’t want that to happen to you. either for his own selfish reasons, or for the reason he dreads, the reality was that he was contempt with not having an heir in the mean time.

so divorcing you? absolutely out of the question.

if his father used not having any emotional attachment as an excuse to tear you away from him, he would create that emotional attachment. fake or not, he won’t have anyone thinking of making him divorce you.

so he pushed himself. he pushed himself to treat you as a decent human being, and pushed himself to buy gifts for you when he’s out, going out of his comfort zone to try and pleasure you.

he allowed you and gojo to continue writing letters to each other. although he’s still sick to the stomach knowing his wife is conversing with another man, he knows that ever since you had been more in touch with your childhood friend, your mood became better.

and finally, on your second year of being married to naoya, he was finally able to see a genuine smile grace upon your lips.

it was the wish he had when him and you were still engaged and not yet married. the wish that you could display an expression different than that of your normal, unbothered one.

and it was beautiful.

he knew you were a looker since the day he first met you. and maybe that’s a subconscious reason why he always wished you could show some more emotion. but seeing your actual smile was so much different. it’s almost as if he’s been blind all his life and finally saw light.

and as much as he wants to deny it, maybe he did have a growing place in his heart for you.

so why are you now missing when things were just starting to get better? it wasn’t long after when he first shared a kiss with you and the two of you started acting more like a married couple, and now you’re nowhere to be seen?

naoya first reached out to gojo within two hours of you not being home, and when the white haired man responded with he didn’t know where you were either, naoya almost lost his mind.

she’ll be okay, he thinks to himself. but another voice in his head reminds him of how you’re not in a state to fight. weirdly your physical state has deteriorated the past few days, and you turned into a even more sickly condition.

it isn’t until the next day when he confirms with hayashi, your personal servant, that you haven’t returned during the night does he really lose it.

weird too. hayashi was saved by you as a child, and follows you around ever since to repay you. he’d never leave your side, so why is he still in the estate and you’re not?

hayashi responds to the question with how you were invited out by a letter, and he wasn’t able to see the sender.

it was a dead end.

quite a few months pass by before naoya finally hears about you. by this time, naoya has thinned down quite a bit and also looked abnormally pale. probably from the lack of sleep or the lost of appetite. or both.

and what he heard from gojo made sick to the stomach, so much that he wished to throw up even though his stomach was empty.

you were found.

the bad news? you were found bloodied and very much dead. you were found rotting.

and although gojo was wearing sunglasses that covered his eyes, anyone could tell the way this affected him through the crack in his voice as he struggles to continue on. after all, he already lost a best friend, and now he had just lost his childhood friend; he lost the one that he swore to protect since your parents failed to do so.

not much information was exchanged after the initial news was delivered, for it pained gojo too much to describe the horrendous scene in which you were found in. but he did take naoya to the scene shortly after he delivered one last piece of news that was sure to shatter naoya.

you were pregnant.

naoya wasn’t all that surprised. in the last few months in which you were missing, he thought of you a lot. how you looked paler, sicklier than usual. how you were more sensitive than usual.

and because of his guess, he had treated you much better than before. he knew how you used to get suspended from jujutsu high for being overly cruel when some curse user would overstep your boundaries. and although your sharp edges dulled over the years, he was still afraid you’d have even a sliver of thought to abort it. and he couldn’t let that happen.

but you probably didn’t know yourself.

“we’re here,” gojo announces.

he bids naoya well before waiting outside the warehouse. he already saw it once, and he couldn’t bear to see it again.

naoya braces himself before slowly walking inside. the interior of the warehouse seemed very normal. it looked like a warehouse for scientific research. there were lab tables, and giant fluid cases. the only thing out of the ordinary he noticed was how dirty everything was. there were many blood stains, but he convinced himself that it was too rusty and old to be yours.

as he walks further, that was when he saw it. the small hidden door in the far back. the door was unnecessarily heavy, seeming to made out of hard iron.

even if it was his first time being here, even if he can’t see what’s beyond the door, he knows what’s about to appear before his eyes.

and he dreads it.

but he still pushes open the door that has already been forced open once. it was easy, seeing how the lock had been destroyed completely. but what wasn’t easy was the capacity to handle everything that he saw.

cruel tools that his imagination can help show him what their uses were. red colored stains on the floor and counters. pieces of meat each around the size of a finger littered around the damp and suffocating room.

syringes. tubes of medicine. medical equipment. chains and shackles. bandages, both used and new. disposed pieces of surgeon uniforms, all covered in blood and a weirdly colored substance.

it didn’t take a psychic to know what had happened here. it didn’t take an actor to imagine the performance that undergone here.

the performance of torture. the act of experimenting on a living human being.

naoya’s trembling although he doesn’t notice it. he comprehends the emotions inside him bubbling as anger that someone had dared to lay their hands on what was his. but the truth was that this unfamiliar feeling he had was despair. something his pitiful wife was familiar with, but something he had only now acquainted.

despair over the fact that all this equipment was used on you and despair over the fact that when you were in pain and suffering, he couldn’t do anything about it.

he slowly walks over to the small bed in the corner of the room. he noticed the blood stains on the sheets and the shackles on the headboard and footboard. most of all, he noticed he noticed the small shard piece covered in blood. he knew why it was covered in blood although no one told him.

it was probably what you had used to end your life.

he stares at it with a blank face, and he eventually reached out to grab it, grief and frustration causing him to clench the shard so hard he sees red. but it doesn’t hurt.

it’s nothing compared to the atrocities you endured.

you were missing for months. he had been informed that your death report showed that you had only died a few days ago. to imagine that you had to suffer from these cruelties for months; the only thing in his mind was how strong you were.

he turns around to walk back out. to see you again. he deemed that it was worthless to stay here any longer.

as he was leaving the room that housed your pain, he saw it. the thick notebook filled with notes and scribbles of the things done to you.

from cutting away pieces of you to examine your genetic makeup, to attempting to force the day of labor so they could research his child; every word written was horrendous.

the contents journaling the day it was discovered that you were pregnant were drastically different than before.

at first it was just terrifying experiments performed on you to determine why you had an intoxicating scent to your cursed energy, but then when they couldn’t find anything out, they wanted to try to copy the trait completely. through what? the child you were harboring.

as naoya flipped through more and more pages, he saw how they took their research further and further. and as things failed again and again, their methods only became more inhumane.

when he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he threw the notebook behind him harshly, hearing a violent thump shortly after. he met up with gojo outside the warehouse and notices how his eyes were somewhat red.

when he brought naoya to your body, that was when both men couldn’t take it anymore.

your originally sickly features looked even worse. you had grown paler and you looked like you had starved for every day you were missing. all that was left of you was skin and bones. there were bruises on your skin, littering almost everywhere the eye can see. the ones on your wrists and ankles naoya knew were from the shackles confining you, and the others on your body seemed to be wounds still unable to fully heal.

you, who hated becoming dirty, lay there with dried blood and dirt on your body. your skin had turned gray and you felt colder than ice. yet naoya still held your hand, trying to warm it up like he had done so before.

but he knew it was fruitless. you couldn’t possess body warmth anymore, and you had no need for it either.

but as he holds your hand with both of his own, what he doesn’t know—what haunts his mind—is the question of did you wish for him to come to your rescue when you had passed day by day and week by week in that tiny little room.

were you disappointed as days passed and he still hadn’t come?

or did you think he wouldn’t come? did you doubt his love for you and think he wouldn’t care if you were there by his side or not? did you think you were replaceable?

but the fact is that you weren’t. albeit how badly he showed it, he knew he couldn’t lose you.

he smiles bitterly as he pressed his lips to your cold forehead and thinks. maybe the possessiveness he held for you had a different meaning. he realizes that even if he denied to everyone that he didn’t love you, maybe he did.

but it’s too late now. he only knew now. he’s only now understood what it was that he felt when you left. you probably also never knew.

after all, you left without giving him a chance to tell you.

do not copy or repost my works. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated.

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mamuzzy · 2 months

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Hey dear :D can you tell us about your headcanons on Jango training the Alphas ? :D

I finally got here to answer this ask. <3

And ooooh boy do I have??? Only angsty ones, love.

I use RepComm lore as a base of my headcanons, just to make clear in what continuity I'm creating in. And that means: NO INHIBITOR CHIPS.

The whole idea of the Clone Army revolves around one thing ultimately: to completely exterminate the jedi. To create an army that is ready for the decisive moment of taking down the enemies of the Sith without the jedi even noticing what is coming at them.

The trainers of course didn't know that this is the ultimate goal of the army, but they knew they had to train a whole army for a future war that who knows when will come. They had be loyal. And they had to be effective.

Every trainer had different approach:

Kal Skirata used love and insisted on the importance of comradeship which ultimately didn't necesserily made his commandos loyal to the Republic, but to each other.

Walon Vau used harsh discipline and insisted on the importance to make his commandos remember: they are superior than others and they have the most important mission in their life. Nothing awaits them outside because they have everything they need: their duty. Vau's trainees remained loyal even after the regime change.

And then we have the Alpha ARC Troopers trained by Jango Fett.

The Alpha ARCs in their mind are the unaltered version of Jango Fett. 100 copy of Jango Fett with their brain remained untouched (compared to the Nulls who's brain was tampered with). Meaning, the Alpha's undying loyalty to the Republic is not pre-programmed, it is not in their genes. It is conditioned with traditional methods: And that is FEAR.

More under the cut

Jango Fett didn't care about the clones and I will sparta-kick everyone from this hill who tries to fight me. I don't have a single worldbuilding where Jango was a "good daddy" for the Clones. He was a great, loving and caring father to Boba and Boba alone.

For him, the clones are products, but also they are part of his agenda: Even he dies, there will be millions of Jango Fetts who will fulfill his revenge of killing off all the Jedi.

The books often mention that Jango was a sociopath (meaning he is on the spectrum of ASPD), and this template was able to make the clones to be so effective. His brain is just built different and wasn't cluttered with moral based inhibitions. That's why I think that Jango wasn't actually a sadist who enjoyed tormenting his trainees - The Alphas - out of joy and personal amusement. It served the purpose, it was all pragmatic.

There wasn't any more description what was Alpha's training like on Kamino but these little snippets of lores made my brain go brrrrrrr about the theories. If the Alphas - THE ALPHAS!!!! - were scared of Jango it could mean that their training included something that gave a reason to fear him.

We know that he installed his own commands into the Alphas such us destroying the Clone Facility in case of Separatist attack on Kamino which Alpha-17 almost fulfilled. But also, being unquestionably loyal to the Jedi. For me, these commands weren't installed. I truly love the unaltered brain-Alphas.

-- Physical pain --

When you are in the military and under training, the line between educational violence and actual physical abuse is very thin. Insubordination had to be punished. Jango had to make sure that the Alphas remain loyal despite not having the same inhibitions like the rest of the clones, so there must have been exercises where he tested how far the Alphas would go to fullfill their duties, achieve victory, enforce an order, AT ALL COST.

They had to put through physical hell, pushed over their limits, pushed over their thresholds and beyond. If caught crying, if caught showing pain, if caught showing the single muscle of questioning Jango's orders, they had to be punished. They weren't made to compete with each other, but they also couldn't protect each other publicly when Jango punished the Alphas for insubordination. They had to watch. They had to learn from it.

The Alphas found secret ways to communicate with each other. To find comfort in each other in one way or another. Oh they knew the concept of love and caring. They watched Jango and Boba from the distance. The reassuring words. The caring touches of a father. They watched how the Nulls were running to their precious sergeant for comfort when hurt. They were very much aware that this is not something they would get.

-- RECONDITION: THE ULTIMATE DEATH --

The Alphas needed only one case of serious insubordination to learn their places and that was Alpha-Ø2. He was truly an independent mind and free-thinker, a true inspiration to thrive for individualism in the sea of Jango Fetts. Spar refused to comply and refused to sworn loyalty to "a republic" which he didn't knew.

And one day Alpha-Ø2 disappeared. Only to return without his memories. Returning without his fiery temper, without his free-spirit... and without any knowledge of how he used to love his Alpha-brothers dearly.

The brainwashing of the Alphas were so much successful later in time, when Alpha-Ø2 - called now Spar - actually deserted at age 8, two years before Geonosis, most of the Alphas felt disgust just by thinking about him - they had to.

Alphas had to believe that Spar was the utter disgrace to the Republic, otherwise it would mean, that they were actually treated wrong.

They had no idea that Spar's desertion was orchestrated by Mij Gilamar and Jango Fett himself after Spar regained his memories - probably the only mercy Jango showed for a clone.

-- Jango had to find the perfect balance --

The Kaminoans wanted soldiers who are independent thinkers but still loyal. Completely supressing their individualism wasn't an option, learned from Spar's case.

What the Alphas did in their non-existent freetime wasn't his business. But the Alphas had to drop everything that is them, when Jango ordered them to do so.

Jango hated every form of authority and realized that the Alphas inherited this trait for his disdain. So he used this train in them to be more effective as advisors for the Jedi. The Alphas had to make sure the Jedi survive until the critical point after all.

Alpha-17 is the smartest of them and the closest thing they had for Spar, which made him always walking on thin ice.

Tavo and Sull, lovebirds.

Maze had knowledge of wide variety of things due to reading forbidden literature that wasn't their in their curriculum.

Fordo communicated only through sign language due to trauma, and his closest friends learned too so they can speak to each other. He only spoke when Jango ordered him to do so.

They were smart enough to know what is was truly considered disobedience. And that was going against the Republic and Jango. If they comply to these rules, they will be safe.

-- ALPHA vs NULL conflict --

Jango always had to remind the Alphas that they were expected to be better than their precedessors, the Nulls. If they fail to meet with the standards, they won't have "a kal skirata" to save them from recondition.

Alpha-Ø2 sure didn't have.

The Alphas after a while didn't need outside motivation to be obedient and loyal. Because they were meant to be everything the Nulls couldn't be. Seeing the examples with their own eyes, how chaotic the Nulls were, how the Nulls as children were actually unruly and sadistic toward the kaminoan technicians, how they disobeyed everyone who was not Kal Skirata, they finally saw what is expected from them: BE BETTER THAN THEM.

And they finally found their positive reassurance on their own. How to take pride in being the true servants of the Republic. Only the Nulls didn't give a shit about this rivalry. They didn't care about Jango or the Alphas or being better than the Alphas.

Being obedient without question was totally against he Alphas nature but they tried. They tried fucking hard.

Alphas: We are the perfect soldiers of the Republic because we are obedient, well-behaved, and we don't cause trouble to our trainers unlike you.

Nulls: We are perfect soldiers because Kal'buir said so, nyenyenyeeeee!!!

Indeed. That Alpha's didn't have "a kal skirata" in their life to tell them they are enough. That they are perfect. That they do the best. Because their best was never enough.

And they weren't enough.

The Alpha ARCs deemed to be failure in the end and their template genes weren't put in to mass-production. When the deployment to Geonosis began, they realized that they weren't meant to be used in the battle and it almost broke them.

Despite their effort and hard work, the Alphas still deemed a failure. Unpredictable, unruly, and because they didn't have any inhibition in them, the Kaminoan didn't trust that they would fulfill their roles. Alphas had to watch the Nulls leave to Geonosis while they were put into stasis.

They didn't have "a kal skirata" to save them from this fate. They didn't have Jango Fett, he wasn't there at all.

They were all alone.

-- Did Jango's approach work? --

My answer is: no.

Despite the conditioning, the Alphas had wide-variety of reactions to the Republic, to the Jedi, and Order 66.

Some were able to shake down the effects of the conditioning, and realized that this dead man won't come after them from the grave to punish them for disobedience.

Some Alpha deserted and died by the hands of Clone Assassins sent after them during the Clone Wars.

Some Alpha remained loyal to Jango's orders, the Republic and then the Empire, training the new generation of soldiers.

Some Alpha went into hiding and became bounty hunters.

Ultimately, how they interacted with the world around them as individual and how the environment treated them decided their own fate.

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galebrainrot2024 · 7 months

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I’m about to learn what the overlap is for Astrology and BG3 - I give to you my takes on the companions Big 3 (Sun, Moon, Rising)! Disclaimer: I did this on vibes alone

A quick break down for those unfamiliar: sun is ego, moon is emotional world both how we process and express emotion, rising is our house of self, how others perceive us., who we fundamentally come across as

Karlach: Taurus Sun, Leo Moon, Sag rising. Starting off strong and easy, girlie is a Sag rising without question, she loves spontaneity, good humor, trying new things, wants to explore and see the world and take it all in. Taurus sun, I think she’s a fairly grounded character and it takes a lot to make her angry - what she is angry about though are long standing grudges where people have done her quite dirty. Provoke the Bull, get the horns. Leo moon: she wants to illuminate and shine her optimism and love onto others. Has great hair, strong sense of humor, bold, a flair for the dramatic.

Gale: Pisces sun, Libra moon, Taurus rising. I had a surprisingly hard time with him. I think he’s a March Pisces specifically. He is a little delulu and has a huge imagination as well as capacity for empathy, humanitarianism. Romantic. Plus, baby cow eyes. Big water sign energy there. Taurus Rising: our boy is quite stubborn and enjoys a bit of lavishness from time to time. Conjures a bed instead of sex on the grass. The five senses matter a great deal to him - Taurus is ruled by Venus after all and is a very sensual sign. Great cook. The moon I struggled with and ultimately think he’s a Libra moon. He craves intellectual stimulation, strong people pleasing tendencies and also values relationships and partnerships. Very romantic. Libra moons thrive and seek out partnerships and as it’s an air sign, is also very intellectually driven and aroused by intelligence/harmony/beauty in all forms (arts, food, people)

Astarion: Cancer sun, Scorpio moon, Capricorn rising. No further questions your honor. In all seriousness, nothing screams moody, sarcastic vampire like Scorpio and cancer. Capricorn because of the restriction imposed upon him. All of these placements are really sweet to their people, everyone else.. well.. just keep your distance, darling

Shadowheart: Gemini Sun, Capricorn Moon, Scorpio rising. Girl is secretive and emo as heck, and emotionally cold and distant (AT FIRST!) Capricorn moons hold their cards close to their chest as do all Scorpio placements. Gemini for her fluctuating nature, enjoys talking, is a chameleon in many respects. Needs intellectual stimulation and likes the back and forth, can be a playful person

Lae’zel: Aries sun, Aqua Moon, Aries rising. As far as I’m concerned, she is the pinnical of Aries: head-strong, straightforward (sometimes at the expense of others), courageous, short tempered and outwardly aggressive as opposed to Scorpio or cap aggression which is more subtle. Lae’zel says what she means and means what she says. Impulsive. Can rub people the wrong way and is ultimately a lovey, soft hearted character once you get passed the sandpaper attitude. Aqua moon because they are humanitarian and look at the bigger picture, less squishy about their emotions yet have strong feelings. Tendency to Intellectualize emotions.

Wyll: Libra rising, Pisces moon, Sag sun. Sag because Wyll has a strong sense of duty and purpose, yet it’s coupled with a strong sense of freedom and zest for life. Expansive. Libra rising because he’s a good conversationalist, enjoys the arts and finer things, wants harmony and Justice, tries his best to avoid strong conflicts when he can. Pisces moon because I think our boy is so sweet and soft internally, and thinks and feels deeply about everything. Can feel misunderstood.

Bonus: (descriptions to come later if desired!)

Halsin: Gemini sun, Taurus Moon, Cancer rising

Minthara: Aqua Sun, Virgo Moon, Capricorn rising

Minsc: Leo sun, Gemini moon, Taurus rising

Jaheira: Capricorn sun, Cancer moon, Leo rising

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 #bg3 gale #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale #bg3 brainrot #bg3 jaheira #bg3 karlach #shadowheart baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baulders gate astarion #bg3 minsc #baldur’s gate wyll #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 halsin #astrology of bg3

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gyll-yee-haw · 9 months

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Hiii! Can you please write something for Louis Bloom? He’s sooo bad but he is just so hot I have a hard time hating him 😭 Merry Christmas!

Hiii! Merry Christmas for you too, anon, thank you for this wonderful gift, my first request since I came back <3

Hm yeah, if people don't want us to fall in love with psychos, they need to stop hiring Jake Gyllenhaal to play then yk...

Warnings: oral (male recieving), balls worship, manipulation (from both sides, but heavier on his), description of violence, blood, accidents and other typical Lou Bloom activities (he doesn't hurt reader).

Like 1.7k words

You were new in town. You didn't know about Louis's reputation. The two of you had just started going out and you didn't know much about his job... all you knew was the gleam in his eyes whenever he talked about it, always mentioning he was very successful. You also knew that he worked VERY hard, cause more than once you've seen him spend the entire evening out, or simply drop everything he's doing when he hears about something that could make it to the news. And you would watch his material on TV smiling proudly at his hard work.

You couldn't imagine how hard it must be for him to witness such horrible, tragic events and document everything... again... you didn't know him very well yet.

Time passed and the two of you only grew closer. Louis was fascinated by your innocence... about how you would always receive him with open arms and whispers of "my poor Lou" after a particular long night, or how you'd be horrified after seeing his images on TV, saying things like "oh baby, you must be a hero, how can you endure this kind of thing?".

It just drove him crazy. He was living a double life... he would be the most absolute cruel and unhinged man on the dark streets of LA, and come back to you as a man of many sacrifices. Just when he thought it couldn't be more perfect, he has this idea: the worse his job looked to you, the more you would admire him.

The next night was the first night he came home covered in blood. You almost had a heart attack.

"Lou!" You ran towards him. "What happened to you? Are you hurt?"

"No, it's okay, baby, I'm okay..." He put on his saddest face. "I just... I was out there doing my job, you know... but I... Oh, my love, I did something terrible..."

"What do you mean, Lou? What happened?" You asked nervously.

"You know I'm not supposed to interfere on the scene, but... I couldn't help it... there was this child... he was very hurt on the accident, I just had to help him!"

You hugged him and cried proudly, trying to calm him down, telling him it was okay... oh, little did you know he was calmer than ever as he lied and manipulated you, smirking into the hug as he watched you fall into his trap.

But his need for your attention and affection grew completely out of his control. His storied became more and more absurd and he started to... cause some... situations on purpose, just so he would have new stories to tell you about how brave he was.

Louis was always the type to be behind the cameras, but more than once he filmed himself dragging a victim of a car accident or carrying an unconscious person around, heavily editing it afterwards, to make it look like he was saving them... and he didn't even sell those images, they were only for you to see, with the excuse that he was so humble and didn't want the fame, he just wanted to help.

But he just couldn't fool you forever, no matter how hard he tried. The absurdity of his stories increased drastically and he didn't know where to stop... Louis was smart and cold when it came to the lies he sold for the television, not when it came for the ones he told to you.

And that's when you decided to investigate.

You knew that every time he allowed himself to close his eyes, he would sleep very heavily, since it was so rare. But you needed to make sure of it. So you planned a pretty exhausting night for him...

"Hi, baby" you greeted him with a smile, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as soon as he walked into the apartment that night. "Hope you're not too tired..."

"Hey, love. I'm fine, What do you have in mind?" he smiled back, not suspecting anything.

"Wanted to treat you real good..." you said, moving your hand down his chest, over his shirt. "You deserve to relax a bit..."

"Yeah?" He smirked and you nodded, big doe eyes acting innocent, like you knew it would drive him crazy.

You guided him towards the sofa while he kissed you passionately, his hands softly on your waist. He sat on the sofa and you kneeled on the floor, in front of him. The look on his face made you forget about your plan immediately. And the part of you that remembered it, felt extremely guilty... you couldn't do that to him. He was such a loving, caring boyfriend, you had no reason to suspect he had been doing anything wrong.

He unbuttoned his shirt, as your hands worked on his pants, pulling them down to his knees. You could see through his underwear that he was starting to get hard.

"Come on, angel, let me see those pretty tits, huh?" He asked in his sweetest tone.

You didn't hesitate to remove your top, playing with your tits in front of him, watching his smile grow wider and his dick get harder.

"Lay back, Lou... let me take care of you, okay?" You insisted. "Just relax, I'll be so good for you... put on a show like you deserve..."

"Fuck, little girl..." he frowned, dick now throbbing. He obeyed, though, letting you pull his underwear down.

As his cock sprung free, your mouth watered. What a fool you were! Acting like you could control him when you were down that bad... cock drunk before even having a taste...

You grabbed his shaft, tongue running up and down slowly, getting him wet. You started stroking him as your mouth went to his balls. You sucked and caressed and drooled all over them, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he moaned in pleasure. Louis was the type to hide his moans, but he barely could when you worshipped his balls this good...

You could tell he was getting impatient and the last thing you wanted was to lose control of the situation. If he decided to be in charge, you knew you were in trouble. So you took his shaft in your mouth, little by little, until it hit the back of your throat. You moaned as you did it, hands squeezing your own tits as you tried not to gag. Every movement you made was designed to keep him entertained, to keep him lost in the moment.

Your head bobbed faster as his words and praises got more and more filthy. As he went from "Fuck, you're doing so well, my sweet angel, keep going, you're making me feel so good" to "Fucking whore, so hungry for this cock, bet you can't wait to swallow all I have to give you".

And fuck, you were grateful when he came down your throat, giving you an unexplainable feeling of joy as you watched your man so satisfied, so... calm... maybe a little... sleepy.

"Come on, Lou... let's go to bed... you must be so exhausted." You suggested. He didn't argue, even though he didn't like not returning the favor you just did for him. He just had a long day, and he would be able to please you harder and better in the morning, not now.

The ache between your legs after sucking him off and not getting any attention afterwards worked as some kind of fuel to carry on with your plan. You left him sound asleep in his room, closing the door and walking to the living room as silently as possible, finding his computer there.

Not a single suspicion you had before could have prepared you for what you would find there. That wasn't the sweet Louis you knew... the way he dragged extremely hurt people around the streets, positioning them like they were toys... he didn't seem to be... helping them. Took you a while to understand that it was all fake. He had been creating entire scenes from scratch, he was a fucking actor... you shivered as you heard a woman screaming for him to stop as he manipulated her body like a doll... the way he told her to shut up...

"You know that's really none of your business, darling."

Your blood froze. You wouldn't dare to look up, but you could feel him standing beside you. How long has he been there?

"Lou, I can explain..." your eyes filled with tears.

"I know you can." He sighed, sittind beside you on the sofa. "But I don't really wanna hear it."

You flinched as he raised his hand, but he just rested it softly on your cheek, wiping a tear away.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, sweetheart... you know I could never do that..." he reassured you. "You need to know a few things about me."

You sat still and he saw that as a sign to continue. "You see, I don't hurt anyone. I just... find them in a very bad situation and... I have to do my job, you see. And my job is not giving people the truth, my job is to give them something they wanna watch..."

"But... Lou... that's wrong..." you gathered strength to finally speak.

"Then tell me, little one, who's so bad? Me? For giving people entertainment... or is it the people who find this entertaining?" He continued caressing your cheek. "And that would include you, I'm afraid... cause you watched everything I ever showed you and you fell in love with me while you did so."

"I didn't... I didn't know..." you tried to justify it all to yourself more than to him.

"I know it's shocking, my love." He brought you closer to him, giving your forehead a kiss. "You're new here... LA, Hollywood... every magical thing you see on TV is absolutely filthy behind the cameras."

Maybe he was right, and you hated it. You knew you were being manipulated, but you just couldn't... not see how it all made sense.

"Come back to bed, princess." He offered, his voice was calm as if nothing had happened. "We can talk more about all of this tomorrow. There's so much I need to show you."

His calm attitude indicated that he knew you were sticking around, even after he revealed his true self. The fact that you took his hand and followed him back to the bedroom, showed he was right.

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal smut #louis bloom smut #louis bloom #louis bloom x reader #nightcrawler

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hellfire--cult · 2 months

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fic authors self rec game

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💞

thank you for tagging me @thecreelhouse 💜

okay, i'll give a little lore for each fic

Do I wanna Know? - Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

I wrote this fic thinking it was going to be a two piece. I had it all figured out in my head, and then when I wrote it the words kept flowing. I also didn't think it would really catch people's attention, I just needed to write that idea in my head. I put a lot of self indulgent things in it, thoughts and mannerisms, so it was also a bit healing to write. It also brought me a lot of joy that people felt identified and that it helped them understand themselves or they felt seen through my fic and it felt like a warm hug.

2. Hooked on you - Hook!Eddie x Fem!Reader

This came to me in a vision after watching Peter Pan from 2001. But I am also a big fan of hidden messages through fantasy, or through fiction, like little riddles of hidden meanings behind the whole world one creates. For example, in my story, Neverland is a place of self acceptance, of saving, to those who are ready to leave way too early because of grief or a broken heart. I do have backstories for each character and if you read the story you know reader's, but safe to say, all of them, including the kids, suffered gravely. I also loved the mixture of fantasy and wanting to live in ignorance to one's depression and anxiety cause I think we can all kind of relate to that, even to this day. I started writing to escape reality, and reader here slipped into neverland in order to escape it.

3. The White Rabbit series, including Bunny, Bunny, Bunny and Run, Rabbit, Run. - Mafia!Eddie x Fem!Reader - Steddie x Fem!Reader

I wanted to expand my boundaries a bit. I always wanted to write a fic that didn't consist of love, only pure lust and desire, as well as dark romance features. This was literally all self indulgent, with things I've wanted to experiment writing, filled with explicit scenes and using words I never used before. It is just literal sex, but I am pretty proud of my detailing of scenes, of my smut scenes. I was always afraid of making smut scenes bland, the need for realism too great in my body lmao.

4. Please, Trust me. - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Oof. I really don't know how to word this right so bare with me. I wanted to show that some people that feel like suicide is the only way to be free, some embrace this possibility with open arms and with relief in their faces. Reader was ready to go. Through and through. She wasn't sad about it. She was excited for it. And it wasn't because she was 'crazy' or 'unstable'. She was perfectly conscious of her decision. I wanted people to see though, that there's always a purpose. That you just need to wait. And maybe that purpose comes with a person, and sometimes it doesn't. I wanted people to know that there's also hope. But my main purpose was to show that suicide doesn't always mean bad.

5. Baring Teeth - Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

My baby. Even if it's still on going, and my updates have stopped, I am still writing it. I am proud of this fic in particular because of the plot twists that I have in mind for the future of the fic. I am also proud to like, write something that people, that are not into Omegaverse, can read cause I slowly give hints of what it is, and descriptions as we go further into the story. It's not like I hit people with it without them knowing what it is. People that have never read any of the sort can easily read this and slowly get accustomed to what Omegaverse is.

This was hard. I honestly took a lot of time to think of what I was proud of LMAO

no pressure tags and sorry if you were already tagged: @andvys @munson-mjstan @loveshotzz @pastel-pillows @ghost-proofbaby @lokis-army-77 @munson-blurbs @rip-quizilla

#oof #it was hard to pick five man #i would of stopped at hooked on you #roe's writing #i guess

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unorcadox · 10 months

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UNORCADOX

howdy, i'm mabel! it's the 3 year anniversary of unorcadox today, so i've prepared a decent bit of surprises. (and yes that means i started this blog in 2020, which is terrifying to think about.) i'll go into those new things under the cut, but first... check out the carrd linked in the header text of this post :3c

sooo soo so so so where on earth do i begin. uhh honestly let me just break down the new stuff first since i can talk about that more easily.

THE NEW LOOK! ok so like truth be told, i've been a faceless blog on purpose up until now. it wasn't until this summer where i actually liked how i looked or had any solid sense of my own aesthetic or what i wanted to look like. it also made it easier to protect against dysphoria and transphobes in the same breath, as no one could ever comment on any aspect of my appearance, or even the mere suggestion i even had one to begin with! but that all changes now, i'm going to actually have a presence on this blog, as it is MY blog and tbh i'm tired of being so faceless on here. that's why i've been doing more asks and non-edit posts recently, and those will increase in frequency. check out the carrd for more info, my sona's ref, and art credits for assets on here <3

mondays -> MUSIC MONDAYS! so it might come as a shock i'm actually a musician in addition to making stuff on here! i've promoted my music a couple of times by now, but nothing all that substantial. sooo, considering that, i'm going to be replacing monday oc posts with a music post! just a link to a song on my bandcamp and a little description about it. i don't really care if these perform particularly well, but i want to give people a chance to actually hear it without having to deep dive through my entire internet history to get it. i also will be releasing more soon-- whether via compilations of older work or new stuff altogether :3

MORE IN THE FUTURE! i have a couple other ideas up my sleeve, we'll see how they pan out but i wanna keep trying new possibilities on here. i think at this point i've proven my consistency, and it's about time i let myself have a little fun and explore my options. these will be announced individually but probably added here over time as this is the new pinned post lol.

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

ok so anyways, i do wanna have the mandatory sappy segment because of course i do. i want to say a couple of things but i'll split them into bullet points again bc yeah i do that.

this year has been really good for me and the blog, in most ways it's been the straight up best year of my life uncontested. not everything has gone perfectly, i had other plans that fell through, but hey that's just how life goes huh. at one point, i was easily projected to hit 20k by the end of the year, and now i'll be happy if i hit 17k lol. tumblr has not been that kind to my blog's growth this year and it's making me consider other options in the future, but everything's so scary rn i don't wanna commit to anything.

as for the blog itself, i've kinda been in a weird spot with it for a while. i've been scraping by on here intermittently for the entire year on and off, and i might have some ways to help keep me on top of the ball during the next year, but i also do wonder how long i can really keep doing this, and how long people will still like weirdcore and my work in particular. i've been considering branching out in terms of my presentation, or format, or style, but i feel incredibly weird about doing so.

in my personal life, this is the year i finally started transitioning and seeking treatment for my most pressing issues. i've finally started dating the love of my life, my best friend of 10 years, and despite some interpersonal turmoil all around me, i think i'm finally finding safe ground and knowing what i wanna do next. i don't really talk about it on here because i'm very private about it, but i've been kinda slowly becoming like a Real Adult Person this year. i didn't really have much of a chance to prior and i still am struggling a lot, but hey i know what i want now!

it's really silly to say but this blog still means a lot to me! it's seen me through the craziest times in my entire life, it's brought me so much perspective and knowledge and opportunities i wouldn't've had otherwise. i wake up every day and go on here and never stop feeling starstruck that people chose to follow me. i know tumblr success means nothing but to me it's the only community i've ever actually belonged to, so thank you all.

ok so like i really just don't have much else to say anymore, so i think i'll end it there! thank you all again, i can't wait for year 4 as it's going to definitely be a crazy one lol. let's hope it's a good one too!

#not edits

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irrealisms · 2 months

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Reverse unpopular opinion meme: Feng Xin?

i can't tell if the 'reverse unpopular opinion meme' just means that i have to be nice about it or if i have to be nice AND unpopular? i'm probably just going to gush. this is all mostly stuff i've said on discord buuuuut whatever u get it again

anyway!!! feng xin!!! character of ALL fucking time. he makes me SAD. all he wants to do is protect & care for the ones he loves and (a) he can't, really, (b) they keep sending him away. xie lian but also jian lan! and then for 800 years he and mu qing are at each others' throats for leaving and. it's...not that simple, for either of them, really, but xie lian is gone and hating each other is easier to admit and verbalize and act on than hating themselves. (tbc they do genuinely hate each other more than they hate themselves, bc they dont understand each other, but ... they hate themselves for leaving, too, and it's easier to hate each other for leaving xie lian than to face the fact that they left too.) i think about the fact that feng xin has hongjing a lot. the thing of. in book four, xie lian loved that sword and almost wasn't able to bring himself to sell it. that sword reveals the true face of a ghost, even a supreme, and maybe if they hadn't sold it feng xin would've believed him. maybe xie lian wouldn't have to doubt himself, he could have proof for everyone, if he had it and it happened again. (and it does!! hongjing is the eventual method of reveal!!!!) they sold it, 800 years ago, and xie lian had loved it, and in book 1 feng xin has it, and hua cheng breaks it, and in book 3 feng xin has it again, repaired. i don't think fx even ever talks about it much. but there's so much there, in him finding it and keeping it and then repairing it when it breaks. it's such a ... traditionally masculine way of showing a very deep love and care? which is really very feng xin. i also think a lot about him breaking his own arm, in book 2, rather than let xie lian cause problems within his family to try and defend feng xin from punishment. and the way he loves xie lian's parents so deeply, and the ways that relationship is in some ways closer than the relationship xl has with them? and also about feng xin's bodyguard training. cries a little. the bodyguard training is related to the breaking his own arm, also...he was raised with the knowledge from very young that he is less important than xie lian, that his only sworn duty is to protect xie lian at the cost of his own safety. sometimes that's "if xie lian's in danger you put yourself in between him and the danger, you fight threats to his life and don't let them get close to him" and sometimes that's "if xie lian's starting an argument you break your own arm rather than let him cause problems". and he doesn't chafe under that, protecting + obeying xie lian is his shining purpose in life, and then book four happens and everything falls apart. i think 'dogcoded' is very overused as a description of fictional characters to the point of meaninglessness but feng xin truly is dogcoded imo!!! all he knows is follow his master & obey his master & protect his master from threats. auggghhhhh. feng xin............. every day i think about xianle trio and take immense psychic damage

(send topics and instead of salt or hot takes, i MUST talk abt smth i like about it)

#therapists dni

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simpxxstan · 10 months

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perfect complements (ch. 4)

pairing: professor!seungcheol x professor!f.reader

genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, angst, smut

series summary: four and a half years of working together breeds familiarity, resentment, and everything in between. it's almost like living together.

series word count (till current chapter): 10.4k

chapter word count: 3.1k

rating: 18+

warnings: slight bickering, description of makeout between seungcheol and oc (not with reader) and vague descriptions of fingering. curse words being used.

a/n: i'm sorry for the late update! i've been going through a hard time these few days, but i'm trying to distract myself! this is a filler chapter ig? i'm sorry if it's taking too long for any action between the reader and coups to start, but i really want to build the story up. it's slow burn for a reason hehe thank you so much for reading! <3

taglist for the fic: @minhui896

series masterlist

Seungcheol’s phone pops up with a notification as he makes his way to Dr. Lee’s chambers. He knows you’ve already been here once before, but he has actively avoided the staffroom all day so that he doesn’t get caught in your and Minhee’s crossfire again. It’s best for him to keep his distance when you’re pissed. He knows, no matter what the reason, you’ll end up bursting at him.

“Hello, Prof. Choi. How are you today?”

“Same as usual, I guess. I can’t believe it’s Valentine's Week already.”

Dr. Lee laughs, their laugh slightly whimsical but purposeful. Seungcheol feels oddly comforted by the Counsellor but also a little nervous. He’s being constantly analysed, and it’s not a good feeling. But they know how to get him at ease too.

“Why? Is Valentine’s Week important to you?”

“Aah well. If I don’t tell you, she will. It reminds me of what happened the first February I was here.”

Seungcheol had absolutely no clue what was going on in college. Perhaps being away from the dating market for so long had made him forget all about this. Plus, his mind was all caught up with the conference. It was the first time he was getting to organise something in this college, and as a new Professor, he had to impress everyone. He had the crazy urge to prove himself worthy of the post: many had said he was too young for it, but he was determined to prove them wrong. So when Prof. Y/L/N had offered that the two of you take up the duties this time to organise the department’s Annual Winter Conference, he had readily taken up the opportunity.

Of course, everything was fine with Prof. Y/L/N now. You had explained to him that you were having a shitty day and couldn’t control your emotions, given your periods had been giving you hell, and the very day after that, you had both gone to watch the new play being performed by the University’s Drama Club, together. Along with a lot of laughs and a lot of meaningful conversations, Seungcheol had hoped he had made his first friend in University. The academic atmosphere had daunted him at first, since he was the youngest, but seeing you had made him braver. He had someone by his side to help him, instead of judging him.

It also helped that he found you unimaginably beautiful.

Seungcheol was, by no means, an innocent boy. Yes, he hadn’t dated properly for very long, but he was no playboy either. He liked to keep his commitments minimal, given that most of his 20s had been spent cooped up in the library, drowning in coffee and real analysis theorems. He had enjoyed pursuing academics, but it had effectively stolen his social life from him. His romantic life, too. His love life had ended with his undergraduate course, and since then, he had been happily married to his thesis.

Except, now. Now, things were different. Because you had entered his life. Not just that, Seungcheol had found himself economically and socially stable after several years. He could finally spend time with his family, live in his own rented apartment, take care of his pet dog as he liked, and eat out almost twice a week, and still have enough money to indulge in a new game being released at the end of the month. Meeting you at this perfect time made him want to go all in, and take his chances at love. After all, he was twenty seven now. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again, would he?

Naturally, he couldn’t give up on the chance to co-convene the conference with you this year. He really respected you- both from a professional point of view, and personally; well, as much as he did know about you. It wasn’t much, you weren’t a great oversharer, but there was one thing that he knew for sure- he enjoyed spending time with you, and he was looking forward to meeting you every day.

“Seungcheol! You’re here. Are we good to go? I think the guest speakers are about to arrive in a few minutes!” You were smiling nervously, but still looked incredibly put together. Your hair was tied up in a bun, revealing your soft cheeks and the new earrings you had donned just for the event. This was the first time he was seeing you wear a dress, and he could feel himself tipping a little more into this mini project of his.

“Y/N, please don’t worry! I’ve got the volunteers briefed, and everything will work like clockwork.”

Unfortunately for Choi Seungcheol, everything did not work like clockwork.

It was the last hour of the conference, the time for the students to gather in a group discussion moderated by the two of you, and discuss your findings, thoughts and questions about the presentations and papers presented by the various guests of the day. With the majority of the workload done, and surrounded by familiar faces, Seungcheol felt much relaxed, and had rolled up his sleeves and settled down into a chair for the first time that day. After running around all day, this informal session felt like a blessing.

You sat down next to him, and all the other students settled down in a scattered, approximate circle. The flow of the conversation began easily, with you smiling and picking up the pace. The students, eager and wide-eyed, kept chattering, and the enthusiasm reminded Seungcheol of himself. The discussion was largely informal, and it felt like a group of likeminded people sitting together, not a hierarchical group of students and professors. It was an atmosphere that made him very happy.

Of course, it also made him very happy that you seemed to be more and more comfortable with him as the day passed by. It manifested in little things, but they were enough to make Choi Seungcheol feel giddy like a schoolboy again. Like how you keenly listened to his comments, and appreciated his thought process. How you contributed to every discussion he initiated, how you ensured he didn’t get left out in the discussions. How you touched his hand once while asking him about something. How you unintentionally (or intentionally?) stared for a second too long at him, and he had caught you in the act.

It was an extremely successful day, he concluded, and he went home feeling the happiest he had been in recent times. He had felt included in the University community, and that was what he had truly wanted for all these days. It felt so relieving.

But all that was going to change the next morning.

He arrived at college in a happy mood, not realising why suddenly there was a galore of roses being carried around the college campus by students. He grabbed his usual Americano from the canteen, before making his way to the staffroom, delightfully greeting every student and professor he met on the way. The campus seemed to be bursting with energy today, but he simply couldn’t realise why. Not that he cared. He was just as energetic today-

“Care to explain this, Prof. Choi?”

You’re standing there, hands on your hips, Wonwoo, the Dean from Social Sciences next to you, and the other professors of the department also in that room. He can’t make out what’s written in the letter that you’re holding up, but as he steps closer, he can see it:

CHEOLLIE AND Y/N SITTING ON A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!

Below the words, there were small roses drawn and pictures of iconic scenes from the k-drama, ‘Boys Over Flowers’ stuck on the page.

“What’s this?” He asked, still clueless. Wonwoo stepped up, and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s the first day of Valentine’s Week. Someone left this on Y/N’s desk…”

The dots finally connected in Seungcheol’s head. The students had… shipped them? It was surprising, funny but extremely absurd. He had the urge to laugh it off, but then he stopped himself seeing the furious look on your face. He realised it had offended you in some way, although he saw it as a joke.

“I’m sorry, Y/N… I don’t know-”

“Do you realise how unprofessional this is? How desperate this makes me look?”

“Desperate?”

“Of course they thought a woman would fall in love with the first man they saw entering the campus. It’s disrespectful, Choi Seungcheol, do you not see that?”

“I think it’s not as big as you think. It’s just a joke by the students-”

“Joke? Wonwoo, please explain to him.”

Wonwoo enlarged his eyes, but quickly took the signal and asked Seungcheol to step out with him.

“I swear I didn’t do anything!”

“I know Seugncheol. I’ve known you for long enough to know you’re not dumb to seduce your colleague. But everyone can see your crush on Y/N.”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to finally be shocked. “What? It’s really nothing like that!”

“Okay. Even if I accept what you’re saying… I’m not saying you’re at fault for this. Kids pull this kind of prank all the time. They shipped me and another Professor from the Linguistics department for years, before everyone got to know that she was gay and I was marrying someone else. But I understand why Y/N may feel sensitive about these things. All I’m suggesting is-” he raised his hand to prevent Seungcheol from cutting in, “keep a little bit of distance? Until the rumours die out and she feels comfortable again. We can’t have a hostile environment in the department, can we?”

Seungcheol chuckles at the end of the story.

“Look where we are now.”

He had recounted almost all of the incident with Dr. Lee, albeit not going into too much details about his love interest in Prof. Y/L/N.

“It’s a very interesting story, I must say,” Dr. Lee had a smile of their face as well, seeming quite amused by the narration. “So you liked her?”

“A little. Quickly snubbed out, as you can make out. After these things, I kept my distance, and obviously, whatever inkling of… feelings had emerged… died out. I was back to neutral within a few weeks.”

“And what about your friendship?”

“Friendship?”

“Your relationship. Did it ever go back to normal? As it was before this thing?”

Seungcheol pauses. He’s not quite sure. Perhaps because it’s been so long, and he has largely forgotten? He doesn’t know how exactly the relationship would have been even if the incident hadn’t happened. There would be other things to destroy it, of course, as time had shown.

“I don’t think so. But then, it’s hard to define normal. We were friendly, like new colleagues who instantly don’t hate each other are. But since then, as we worked together for longer, and as my… emotions became absolutely neutral, we discovered irks in each other pretty soon. We never ended up being as friendly as then, again. I don’t think we would’ve been anyway.”

“And if she had liked you back?”

He doesn’t know what to say. He prefers not to think about it, a situation he could envision in only an alternate, distant universe.

“She could never.”

It’s the truth. He knows it’s best not to lie to Dr. Lee.

Valentine’s Week is one of the few weeks in the year when the entire city is bustling. There’s the excitement of new love, hope of requiting crushes, and the thrill of the chase, all punched together. It’s also the beginning of spring, and Kkuma, on such days, really enjoys walking through parks, running in fresh green grass dazzling with dew, and making Seungcheol run after her.

Today, she’s dressed up with tiny pink clips sparkling in her carefully trimmed white hair. Today, Seungcheol isn’t running behind her. He’s instead sitting on the bench, surfing through his phone, as Kkuma runs small laps around him. There’s no chance of her straying away, she’s too dependent on him for survival and she loves being spoilt.

“Oppa?”

Seungcheol looks up from his phone to see Hyerin standing in front of him, dressed in tracks. Running in the park, clearly. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you came to the park?”

“I came here for Kkuma-ya. You?”

“Can't go to the gym these days. So I’ve switched to running. Mind if I join you?” Seungcheol shifts up on the bench, and Hyerin flops down on it, next to him. “Tired? Take a sip from my Americano-” he brings the coffee to her lips, and she sucks in through the straw. “Aah, too much ice!” He giggles, before taking a sip himself. “I like it this way. You don’t have to drink it.” “Yaah! Oppa!” She snatches it a bit, sips again, and puts it back in Seungcheol’s hands.

“Do you want to get breakfast?”

She smiles, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Breakfast becomes another walk along the sunny streets of Seoul, which turns into grabbing beer before lunch, and after another hearty meal at a street food fair, Seungcheol finally takes Hyerin home. They’d been stalling it for long enough, he thinks, and he definitely does like her a lot. Better to settle down with her than any other random woman his mother decided to set him up on a blind date with.

“Kkuma’s watching us,” Hyerin whispers breathlessly, panting between kisses, as she leans away from Seungcheol’s body to look at the small dog sitting far away from them but still with her eyes fixed on the two of them.

Seungcheol laughs. “See? This is why I told you Kkuma doesn’t like it when I bring over girls.”

“But she’s okay with you bringing over your colleague from work?” Hyerin doesn’t sound jealous, she’s too busy unbuttoning Seungcheol’s shirt. “Kkuma wasn’t at home then. My brother had taken her away for the day.” “Lucky woman, your colleague.” And her mouth is back on his, and they slobber around, making out furiously, even while the sun still shines on them from the open windows. Seungcheol’s hands grab her waist tightly as he lifts her up. He then moves away from couch and slowly makes his way to the bed, not leaving Hyerin’s mouth even once. When he’s finally laid her down on the bed and taken off her pants, the phone in the back pocket of his jeans rings. He’s tempted to ignore it, more interested in Hyerin’s bloodshot eyes staring at him hungrily and the way she’s reacting to his hands stroking over her thighs. But the phone keeps ringing, and the sound is annoying, so he takes out the phone to turn off the volume.

Except he sees the name tag.

It’s you.

“Hello?” Seungcheol can hear Hyerin gasp in frustration, but he can’t help but take the call. He knows you never call him unless it’s an emergency, so this must be serious.

“Prof. Choi? This is Prof. Y/L/N.”

“Yes I know. What is it?”

“Am I disturbing you? Your voice sounds curious and Seungcheol gets pissed at the stalling. “Yes, could you please tell me why you called?” “Sorry about that then, I’ll be quick. It’s just that-” “Yes?” “Hey, why so impatient?” “Prof. Y/L/N, it’s a Sunday. I’m busy, I have a personal life as well. Now could we please get on with this quickly?”

“Prof. Choi, you know about the upcoming seminar in Singapore that our department was taking the UnderGrad students for? For the annual field trip?”

“Yes?”

“And you know how Minhee was going to come along with me for the trip?”

“I do know that.”

“Well, her sister’s getting married that weekend. We just got to know, I swear!”

“We?” Seungcheol feels so lost in this conversation.

“Yeah, well, Minhee and I. We’re actually hanging out together, right now.” “Okay? And why are you suddenly telling me about Minhee’s sister’s wedding?” “Oh, just that. Wonwoo asked me to ask you, if you’d like to come along. Minghao is really busy for that weekend with meetings for his America thing, so I really had no option but to ask you.”

There’s a very loud pause. Seungcheol is facing away from Hyerin, but he can hear her breathing clearly in the silence. She’s real sweet, waiting patiently for him to finish the call, even if he’s left her without any context.

“You can’t go alone?”

“I did tell Wonwoo I’d go alone, I am literally 33. He said no, it’s not nice to send just one professor when they’ve already made arrangements for two.”

“Can’t we send one of the PhD students? They’ll get good exposure too.”

“There are over 30 kids. Not sure how much exposure a PhD student can get from handling kids-”

“Kids who are all in their 20s. This isn’t a kindergarten field trip.”

“I’m just telling you what Wonwoo would say. I know it because I’ve suggested these exact same things to him as well.”

Another pause. Seungcheol can hear Hyerin touch herself, the sounds giving it away. He turns around and sees his suspicions confirmed. It’s an irresistible sight, her eyes closed in focus, and with the afternoon sun falling on her skin, she does look heavenly.

Fuck you for keeping him away from this delight.

He steps closer to Hyerin, and joins her, taking her by surprise. She moans, and he hopes you weren’t able to hear it.

“Listen. I’ll let you know if I can make it. But I don’t think I’ll be free next weekend, so don’t count on me-”

“Wonwoo asked me to tell you that this would be the last step to our ‘therapy’ thing. I may have blackmailed him into agreeing to this, because he forced me to call you up.”

Seungcheol can’t focus on the phone call anymore, not with the pretty sounds Hyerin keeps muffling up, but this perks his attention. Freedom from that bullshit finally. He’d been tired of turning up to the Counsellor’s office and getting analysed by their squinty little eyes. Especially when you both had to attend together. It was getting embarrassing now, as students across the university heard rumours about this therapy thing. It was bad enough that everyone knew how much you two dislike each other. Even worse now that they thought you both needed couples’ therapy to get over your petty fights.

Damn Wonwoo for being a smartass. Seungcheol has known this since childhood but he keeps falling for his moves each time. He can never win against Wonwoo.

“Seungcheol? Are you still there?”

“Okay Prof. Y/L/N.”

“Huh?”

“I said okay. I’m in. For the next weekend. Bye now.” Thank god he has Hyerin falling apart on his touch right now, before his mind twists and falls into a trap, thinking about the potential dangers of what he just agreed to.

“Oppa! I’m- I’m- aaah!” Hyerin’s voice is loud, and he sinks headfirst into her. “I’m here, princess. Oppa’s right here.”

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