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poptod · 3 years

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In the Heart of Atlas (Rami Malek x Reader)

Description: He doesn’t fear you––who thought such a simple thing would win your affections?

Notes: this is my first time writing for Rami himself! anyway, this is for the rami week. happy birthday rami!!! this is a bit of a strange story but i hope yall like it anyway. WC: 5.6k

His body twitched slightly before his eyes opened, slow and dry across his grey irises. A deep dehydration had seized his bones, as though his blood was drudging through his veins and muscles, losing water by the second. Still, he sat up, his head a weight upon his shoulders.

To his surprise, he found himself in the middle of an empty parking lot, the highway beside him mostly vacant. He looked around, finding a large but abandoned mall to his right, the lights long shattered and broken. Tension welled in his brow as he tried to piece together just how he got here.

"Most people don't get knocked out after they get ejected from their bodies," said a voice from behind him. He whirled around, scratching his pants on the rough pavement.

"Who are you?" He asked, scanning you.

For the most part, you looked normal. The only thing that stuck out was the massive katana strapped to your back and the darkness swarming around your eyes. He could barely see your face beneath the hood of your black sweatshirt, but that didn't matter all too much to him––there were more pressing, more important questions that required answers.

"Demons and angels call me (Y/N), but people call me the Reaper," you said as you offered him your hand.

He gingerly raised his hand to accept your help, faltering when your sleeve pulled back to reveal prominent bones and veins in the back of your hand. The bones poked out of the skin, glowing a faint white, while your veins remained a simple shade darker than your skin. Looking back up to you, he found no malice in what little expression he could see. With that he accepted your aid, pulling himself to his feet.

"The Reaper?"

"I go by a good many names. In the north alone I am called Gwyn ap Nudd, Cù Sith, the banshee, the Ankou, and more simply... death. Most of the time I have others collect souls, but.. you're an interesting case."

You reached forward, and though he instinctively flinched back, he soon regained control of himself and allowed you to cup his cheek. Even with that allowance, however, there was a decent amount of discomfort within him.

"I'm dead?"

"Not quite yet. That's where the interesting part comes in. Come––let's find a place away from the sun," you said, drifting past him and heading towards the abandoned mall.

Looking upwards, he found a blistering sun. He hadn't felt the heat, and looking back at the black pavement, he realized he hadn't felt that astonishing heat because he was, as you said, dead. No longer in his body. With that realization, he jogged back over to walk at your side.

"I'm a little confused, here. How did I die?" He asked.

"Again, not dead yet. Just out of your body. It's quite interesting, really," you said, opening the creaking door.

He entered gingerly, turning and waiting for you before wandering in any further. When he turned back to scan the building, he found instead a drawing room with a Victorian rug spread out across a hardwood floor, and red velvet couches filled to the brim with pillows and blankets. Paintings from all cultures covered the walls, nailed into place alongside maps of different eras. He hardly noticed his gaping mouth till you passed by and closed his jaw.

"Well... what happened to me?"

"Take a seat, Malek. I need to ask you some questions," you deflected, herding him to sit on one of the chaise lounges.

A clipboard materialized in your hands, a pen following as you sat down opposite of him.

"Now, what's your name?"

"You just said my name."

"And?" You said, quirking your brow.

He let out an exasperated sigh before answering with, "Rami Malek."

"What do you spend most of your time doing?"

"Work, mostly. I'm an actor."

"I'm aware. Most of your alternate reality personas look exactly like you. That usually only happens with actors," you said, scribbling down words with a harsh pressure on your pen. "You are given one million dollars. What do you do with it?"

"Um... I'd put it into my savings, let it collect interest until I die, and then donate it," he said after a moment's contemplation.

"Calculated. Nice. Significant others?"

"Not right now."

"Family members?"

"I've got a twin brother and an older sister. And my parents, of course."

"Are you religious?"

"Yes, sort of. My parents raised me Coptic Orthodox but I don't really interact with it much in my life."

"Is there a heaven and a hell?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He asked.

"Answer the question, Malek."

"I don't think there's a heaven or hell."

"Good choice. Alright," you said, straightening your back after hunching over your clipboard. In a quick flash both the clipboard and pen were gone, and you were back on your feet. "Do you have any questions for me before we try to fix this dilemma?"

"Yes, lots," he chuckled humorlessly, watching you circle over to a liquor cabinet. "How did I die? Or – how did I get 'ejected' from my body?"

"Remember the movie you were just working on?"

"Yeah, James Bond."

"You tried to do your own stunts since your double was missing. You missed the catching net, landed on the ground, and your essence was accidentally absorbed by the earth. The earth decided you would be safer here––in Thailand."

"Thailand?? I have to finish filming. I can't be in Thailand," he said, jumping to his feet.

"Calm down, pretty boy. I'll take you to your body in due time, and from there we can decide how to move next. This is a rare opportunity for you," you said as you poured two glasses of sherry. "People don't usually get to see me. If they do, it's pretty much assured they won't interact with me. You're very lucky. I could also just reap you and get rid of the problem, but you're not supposed to die. Not yet."

"What, do I have something to do on earth yet?"

"Yes," you said, handing him the glass in your left hand. You sat back down, sipping from your own cup.

"Then what happens if people accidentally die?"

"The world goes on. We correct our calculations and figure out the fate of the earth again. It happens very rarely, thank everything. Our I.T. would be in hell if it happened a lot."

"What affect do I have on the world?"

"I'm not really allowed to tell you that," you said, eyeing him.

"Oh, sorry."

"I'm just kidding. I rule this universe. You're going to have a fan at one point who is very suicidal. They meet you on the street, get the will to live again, and their daughter will write a mystery novel that both furthers space-travel technology and surgical technology. Happy?" You took another sip from your cup.

"... I guess."

It was certainly, if anything, an interesting time to find out your entire existence was being protected by the embodiment of death just so a woman you didn't know could further technology just slightly. He didn't feel fantastic about it.

"It's not your only purpose, if you're worried about that," you said, noticing his fallen expression. "You inspire a lot of art and a lot of stories. Everything you do and inspire adds to the color of the world. Humans are one big organism and they can't seem to see that––I hope you, and others, will realize that soon."

"I hope we do as well," he said with a sigh, leaning back into the velvet. "I'm quite sick of people getting angry at each other all the time for useless shit."

"Yes, well..." you swirled the mixture in your cup, "the human condition, and all that."

"Were you ever once human?" He asked quietly.

"No. I am not truly a being. I am what you imagine me to be, a mirage of what you expect from death," you said in a low voice. "I will be here to kill God, and in the end of time I will be all that remains. The representation of all that ever existed, and its' inevitable demise."

"... comforting."

"Isn't it?" You said with a sardonic smile. "Are you ready to see your body yet?"

"I think so," he said. "What kinda state am I in?"

"I don't know. The state of destruction your physical form is in will dictate whether or not I can return you to yourself or take you into the unknown."

"Okay," he said, taking a deep breath in hopes of calming himself. "Take me to myself."

"Very well," you said as you stood, setting your cup aside and offering him your hand once more. He took it and rose to his feet.

In a single blink, and without warning, he was in a hospital––an American one, or at least one where the signs were all in English, and the nurses were speaking that same language. Fluorescent white light filled the room, mixed with the dreary daylight of a bright but cloudy day. The shades were open to the city outside, but what first caught his eye was the centerpiece of the room––him.

Gauze, linen, and casts covered more than half his body, cradling his leg, chest, head, and both arms. His eyes remained blissfully shut, not even fluttering from the bruises and cleaned scars circling his face.

"You look good," you said, unable to tear your eyes away from the body.

"Wow, thanks," he said sarcastically.

"I'm serious. You fell, like, 35 feet. Not a lot of people survive that, much less still have one of their legs."

"So does that mean I can go back to living?" He asked, sudden excitement filling his words.

"I suppose so. You've been out for a while, though, so be careful when you get back in. Listen to your doctors. Keep safe, and let professionals do stunts," you said.

He chuckled, turning to you before saying, "I thought Death would want me to die, not live."

"It doesn't matter. I will reap all. For now I can let society grow, let lives multiply to greater heights, as in the end you will all join my kingdom. I'm old as the universe. I can wait."

"Your kingdom?"

"Me. I carry the souls of the dead in my memory. They all live within me."

"And that's what happens when we die?"

"When you die, you become one with the universe. I become part of you just as much as you become part of me. Is that a comfort to you?"

"... yes, actually," he said softly, looking back to his body. "I think I'm ready to go back to living now."

"Very well, Malek. Take my hand," you said as you offered your see-through hand.

The moment he touched you, he noticed that he, too, became see through, and he wondered if that had always been happening and he simply hadn't noticed it. He had little time to think about it before you were leading him forward, taking him to the side of his hospital bed. From there you helped him into the bed, lining his soul up with his physical body, and telling him in a soft murmur to close his eyes.

The very next moment he remembered was opening his eyes to blistering hospital lights shining down on him. His memory of you was vague and blurred, but nonetheless present in a way that tested his image of the world, questioning if he was truly living his life.

Doctors, nurses, and friends rushed to his side once they noticed his consciousness, hurriedly asking questions and preparing tests on him. His bruised eye was swollen shut, but the other one could see alright, and it was a blessing to be able to see his mother above him. It took a good deal of time, but he returned to health and was luckily not disabled by the fall.

Years later the incident came to him in a dream, in a perfect clarity that he hadn't ever had as a waking person. He bolted awake, heavy breaths emphasizing the thin sheen of sweat that now covered his chest. You had explained to him the way the world worked––his purpose in life, the inevitability of humans and of the universe, and the beauty in that. The happy ending in that unavoidable death.

Never in any other time had he desired to see you again more than he did at that moment, stuck awake in the middle of a night plagued by rain and thunder. Wide eyes stared straight ahead, to the twisted sheets covering him, to the closet on the other side of his bedroom.

Shaken to his core, he slowly moved to his feet, the cold floor shocking him awake further. As he walked towards the kitchen, he attempted at calming himself with slow breaths. Once there he grabbed a glass of water, chugging the entire glass, and slamming it back down on the counter as though he'd done a shot, which it might as well have been this late at night.

Would it be possible to summon death? he thought hypothetically, before realizing the incredible stupidity of that statement. Who would want to summon death? Also, summoning death would probably involve putting himself in a dangerous situation, which you had specifically advised him against.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered to himself, leaning against the counter as he rubbed his face.

"His name is Yeshua, and he can't help you right now."

He jumped, spinning around in his kitchen to find you sitting on the counter across from him.

"Death!"

"People aren't usually that excited to see me, but yes," you said, looking down to scan your fingernails before looking back up at him with a smile.

"How did you know I was thinking about you?"

"You had one of my true forms in your thoughts. I remembered you from a little bit ago. How long has it been again?"

"11... maybe 12 years? I haven't thought all that much about the incident, but... I had a dream tonight. I remembered –"

"I know. You're not supposed to remember me while you're still living, so I had to come back and fix that," you said, jumping off the counter and approaching him with determined resolve.

"Wait, no!" He tried to back up, but he was already pressed against the kitchen island.

"We will meet again, quite shortly, you'll see," you said with a smile, a weak attempt to calm him as you raised your hand to his forehead.

"I don't want to forget you," he pleaded, fingers dug into his palm.

"That's awfully unfair to all the other people whose memory I had to fix. Makes their sacrifice a little silly if I allow you to go and tell the world how it'll all end just because you're pretty."

"I won't tell anyone. They'll think I'm crazy."

"You're a celebrity. Someone is going to believe you."

You pressed your thumb to his forehead, and in that moment he lost all control, leading him to make the first action he could think of, the one thing that might deter your work. He grabbed you by your sweatshirt, balling the material in his fists and pulling you till your chests met. With that he smashed his lips into yours, feeling your hand slip away as you weakened, shocked into stillness.

He wasn't quite sure whether you were actually enjoying yourself or if you were just shellshocked, but he continued to kiss and move against you for a moment before releasing you. When he let go of you and drew away, he watched your unmoving expression, staring at him with parted lips and wide eyes.

"What the fuck was that?"

"... a kiss?" He answered meekly.

"What does it do?"

"You don't know what a kiss is?"

"Malek, I have two trillion different planets that I reap from, all with multiple different societies and beliefs. I'm not going to memorize each of your customs."

"Oh," he said. He would have to devote some time, later on, to let the fact that there were aliens (and a lot of them) truly sink in. "It's a show of affection. It's kind of personal."

"So it is a gift," you said with deep concentration.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"What for?"

"I like you. You're knowledgeable, and kind, and... I think you're pretty," he admitted, almost sheepishly in his low, rough voice.

Flirting with what could essentially be labelled as an eldritch monstrosity was a tad difficult, especially since you were millions of years older than him. From that point of view, he felt more like a child speaking with you, admitting to some silly, meaningless crush.

"You think I'm pretty?" You asked, your voice high pitched and coming out in almost a squeak. He nearly gawked at your reaction.

"Of course I do. Do people not tell you that?"

"I don't really talk to consciousnesses much, Malek. And most people don't find my bipedal form very nice to look at," you said quietly, looking down to the floor with fidgeting fingers.

He reached forward, pulling off your sweatshirt's hood, and allowing the warm light of his kitchen to finally show him the whole of your face. The skin around your eyes still retained that mystical darkness, like the ink of space, surrounding the cosmos of your eyes. It was quite clear now that you were not human, which explained the reasoning of hiding the whole of your whole form. 'Bi-pedal,' you called it––you had to fit in with alien worlds as well as his human world, and thus hiding many parts of yourself was required.

Now he would be the first person, the first creature, the first consciousness, the first life, to see your entirety. No one else had thought to flirt with death, but apparently that was how to avoid it. Ironic, considering the earth phrase 'flirting with death'.

You had gone into such a fluster by his words and actions that you stuttered out instructions for him to stay safe, and promptly disappeared in a cloud of smoke. He wouldn't see you again for three years, which saddened him greatly, but he made sure to remind himself that ten years for him was the blink of an eye for you. 2 trillion planets with life on them needed your attention.

In 3 years he found himself victim of yet another incident. He had been sitting in a donut shop for a little while, enjoying himself on his phone, before another customer entered and began to make a fuss. The man started yelling and he rose to the occasion, stepping over and attempting to take some of the stress off the poor teenager working on the till. Before he knew what was happening, he had a gun in his face, staring down a dark barrel of metal.

"You move and I'll slit your fucking throat," you said, appearing in a flash with your katana pressed against the stranger's throat. "Your gun's on safety mode. It'll take more than one move for you to kill this guy. Want to take that chance?"

The man faltered, and with that you nodded to the cashier, who quickly dialed up the police.

"Put it down, Michael," you said. The man, apparently Michael, slowly looked to you with wide, horrified eyes.

Rami could almost laugh at the incident, but his heart was far too full of fearful adrenaline for him to smile, much less laugh. It all happened so fast. The little bout was won the moment Michael met your eyes. He set the gun on the floor, turning to you with contempt and raised hands.

You waited until the police arrived for the sake of the cashier, but before anyone could question you, you were off again with Rami on your tail. Disappearing in a puff in front of mortals would do you no well, thus you had to start off with walking––something he could certainly follow. 3 years since he'd last seen you––grey had pervaded his hair more and more, skin more freckled and imperfect. You remained as you always were, even 15 years ago.

"Met anyone interesting lately?" He asked when he caught up with you.

Ideas of what creatures you were meeting, the types of things you got yourself into had been a decent source of inspiration for his daydreams. Such was his interest in what you wouldn't tell him that he wrote a screenplay, directed it, and shown it to the world. People often commented on the creativity of his imagination, but he always believed you to be the true source of actual creativity.

Of course, he hadn't ever actually heard about anything that you did. It was purely what he hypothesized.

"I met creatures that reproduced by stringing together DNA by hand. They are new consciousnesses in the cosmos, only recently earned souls... or what you would call, self-awareness," you said, staring ahead to the empty streets lined with cars.

"That's what gives something a soul? Self-awareness?"

"Not quite that simple, but for the most part, yes."

"How long ago did humans earn souls, then?"

"Longer back than you'd imagine. Remember, it's represented as more than self-awareness. It's societies, too, and ants have societies. I can't quite remember, but it was back when you were living in the trees," you said, taking moments to pause and correctly recall the facts.

He continued to walk alongside you for a moment more, pondering upon that information.

"Anyway. That's enough questions from you. What the hell were you doing?!" You said once you were out of sight from the cops, balling his shirt in your fists and forcing him up against a wall. Rami spluttered.

"What the hell were you doing? Aren't you not supposed to interfere with that kind of shit?" He asked, rattled from the sudden movement, and feeling bruises already building in his back. His skin and muscles had become more prone to injury over the years.

"I can do whatever I want. I don't have to worry about losing my mortal body. You're still tethered to this plane!"

"Who cares if I die? Everyone has to at some point, and helping others seems like a good way to die," he said, trying to ignore the aching in his body.

"Don't you have a wife? Kids? Family or friends? You're really ready to leave that all behind at the drop of a hat?" You scanned him.

"I was helping others," he hissed. "And I don't have a wife. Or kids. I've had more important things on my mind."

You watched him for a little while, trying to gauge his thoughts from his eyes. Eventually you released him, letting him drop to the ground, and watching carefully as he brushed off his clothes.

"Why do you want me alive now if I'm going to die soon anyway?"

"You're not going to die soon –"

"Relative to your sense of time, I'm going to die very soon," he interrupted, satisfied when you had no rebuttal. "Why do this? It's not even helping me. I know I won't really disappear when I die."

"Yes, you will. Gods, I shouldn't have told you about anything," you sighed, rubbing your face tiredly. "You misunderstand the concept of death. You, as you are, will not survive. You will disappear. I will carry your memories, but I will not be you. You will not be inside me, your memories will. I'm like a library, not some sort of vacation resort. Are you getting this?"

The blank look on his face told you everything you needed to know.

"There is no heaven or hell and I am not a substitute for their nonexistence! When you die, that's it. You're gone. Forever."

"I became a soul on earth. What about that?"

"Because you weren't fully dead, just separated from your body, like astral projecting. You either return to your body or you really die within a year. And if you try to astral project for that long, even if you do return to your body, you'll lose more and more control of it because you can't remember what it's like to have a physical form. It’s complicated, just – just stop getting in dangerous situations!" You practically yelled, clasping his head in your hands and talking quite loudly right in his face.

"There are a lot of technicalities to death," he said, putting his hands over yours and gently leading them down.

"There are a lot of technicalities to life. Why would I be any different?"

"I know, I just – I guess I don't know. Death, I... is it.. you're the only... consciousness I've ever.. loved," he admitted with a broken voice, unsure of his every word.

Your eyes widened, and you almost stumbled backwards with your own surprise. He kept you from doing so by keeping his grip on your hands.

"You want to know if you can stay with me," you said in an instant, soft realization.

He nodded.

"I don't understand," you murmured, suddenly shy. "I've tried to erase your memory so many times. Why do I keep failing?"

"You said none of your other victims ever spoke with you. I remember you because you're unforgettable, Death. I couldn't let go of you."

No one had ever thought of wooing you. You'd met creatures who tried to seduce you, yes, or to pay you off, but never romantically seek after. This would be the first time in your 14 billion years of being alive that someone did this––spoke sweet words and used your name without fear. Without shame. As though you were something to be honored.

Living things fought you so valiantly, and you loved them for that. Their desire to stay alive, to continue existing even when existing was more painful than simply facing you, to thrive in environments you yourself would've given up in. People were terrified of you. They hated you. Rightfully so––you were an easy scapegoat, something to pin blame on, like the actions of Kings weren't what actually killed them, but were the fault of the one who had to clean up the mess of souls left in an army's wake.

People also romanticized you. Thought of you as something to beat. Something to find beauty in, bliss in that nonexistence. People who hated being alive, who found their worlds too dull, or their minds too plagued with thoughts they couldn't help. It was not a true love––it was a desire to escape what they believed to be an inescapable life.

But people did not honor you. You were not a thing to give gifts to. You were not some sort of god of death––you were death. The essence of it. The misery and grief left in the wake of a taken friend.

Tears welled in your eyes, burning a bright white that trailed down your face like melted silver. The streaks were clear against the shadowed skin of your eyes. Instantly Rami thought he had done something wrong, said something to upset you, but he had no chance to apologize before you disappeared in a puff of smoke. In your wake you had left two tiny little puddles of silver teardrops on the pavement, reflecting sunlight like a mirror.

Years later, when he died, he expected to see you. He crawled out of his body, leaving behind the prolonged ringing of the heart monitor, and drifting away from his family. Long had he expected this, awaited this almost eagerly. But when he died, he was met by a man named Jynq, who went on a long spiel about death and the true meaning of the universe.

"Where is Death?" He asked once Jynq gave him a moment to speak.

"I am Death," he said with a confused frown.

"No, you're one of it's workers. I want to see the real Death," Rami stated firmly.

Jynq's expression fell into seriousness, the polite exterior of a worker making way for his true personality.

"It's on the other side of the universe right now. Several planets have been having a war for a while now, and the deathcount has kept them there for many years now," Jynq answered truthfully.

"Can you take me to them?"

"How do you remember Death?" He rebutted instead.

"They spoke to me. On several occassions. They tried to wipe my memory but it didn't work," he explained.

"You spoke to Death on several occasions?" Jynq asked, his mouth falling open.

"... yes?"

"Alright. I'll take you to it, but the journey will take a while. I hope your soul is resilient," the reaper said.

"Doesn't it take a year for a soul outside the body to die out?"

"Hm. You really did talk to it. But yes," he offered his hand, which Rami took, and they began to ascend towards the heavens, "it takes a year for the average soul to die. This journey will take several years. Are you ready for that kind of commitment?"

"Yes."

There was no spaceship in which to find a home, nor any set spot for rest or food. Neither he nor Jynq required any food or water, and certainly not any sleep, so the method of travel was a long, straight line towards the edge of the universe, unbreaking and unmoving.

Cosmos passed him by, and he became a part of them, leaving behind parts of his essence in the form of star dust that trailed after him. The further and faster he travelled, the more of himself he left behind, till he became a translucent outline of who he used to be. Jynq remained the same, just as you did. He couldn't calculate just how much time had passed, but as more of it did, he got a sense that he was experiencing time at a much faster rate than he imagined. Still, he remained oblivious to how much time was left in the journey.

At times he would go through solar systems, beside stars with planets that certainly carried life. Worlds made of diamonds, suns bigger than the whole of his home solar system, clusters of stardust reforming into young stars. Each of these worlds was one you had met––one you had left your mark on, no matter how young or old.

Life on earth didn't seem quite real when he reached the warring planets. There was so much going on in the universe––things humans would never know about. Worlds full of people that would never be found.

Jynq stopped Rami on the moon of a green planet, keeping him there while he went to go find you. He took the opportunity to sit, to rest after years of drifting through space, and to wonder which thought of his many collected thoughts he should first tell you.

"How in all the fucking WORLDS alive do you keep managing to endanger yourself, even after you die?!" You screamed, appearing in front of him in a millisecond and grasping his face tight again. "Are you insane or something?! Like clinically insane??"

"You've clearly never met someone who's in love with you," he chuckled, taking your hands and, again, gently pulling them away from their tight clutch on his face.

"Ohh, Malek," you said, anger falling away to the aching sorrow in your tone. "Look at you. You're so thin... does it hurt?"

"I feel weak, but I also feel light. I am okay," he assured you. "I left a trail of myself all across the universe. I've given myself back to the stars. Now I want to give what remains of me to you, but I had to talk to you again. Just once more."

"You speak like you’re old," you said with a weak laugh.

"I am old."

"How old do humans live to be?"

"The oldest was around 120 years, I think."

"Oh. Well, then I guess you're a little old. Not to me though," you said, flipping his sheer hands and taking them in yours.

"I'm old enough that I have accepted my own fate. I'm ready for you, Death," he said, his smile only visible in the bits of glittering stardust that made up the frame of his face.

Your smile fell.

"No," you said.

"... no?"

"No. I'm not going to do it," you stated.

"Can you do that? Like, legally?" He asked, quirking a brow.

"Who's going to stop me? I'm Death."

"Good point."

"I just wish I could heal you," you murmured, reaching up to stroke his cheek only to have your thumb fall through his face.

"I don't mind it," he said softly.

"Hmm," you said, taking a moment to think critically. "I think I know how to help you."

You found him a home in the heart of a star––Atlas, a part of the Pleiades that shone bright beside its' sister, Pleione. The intense pressure was lost on both of you as you entered, making your way to the heart, where the elements of matter and life were formed in overbearing heat. As was the nature of space, the center of Atlas was dead silent, leaving you and Rami in a white, detail-less expanse.

Slowly, over the years, parts of his body returned to him, building off the star-lit frame of his soul. As you suspected, the workers of the dead and afterlife were extremely dissatisfied with you, but could do nothing. You were older than all of them, and you decided you could allow yourself this one indulgence––this one moment of straying from the rules that Gods had so often broken.

They allowed you this one comfort: a home in the heart of Atlas, in the arms of a man who had given himself to the world, and then to the universe. The one Death who had taken so much from the universe, who would eventually take everything in the universe, wrapped in the embrace of the one who had given every part of himself to the world he lived in.

#rami malek x reader #rami malek #rami malek x male reader #rami malek x female reader #rami40

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oingo233 · 3 years

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Rapture is a Boy (8)

Summary: Remus and you have always had a playful, loving relationship but his behavior around the full moon leads you to assume the worst. A huge fight ends with the two of you heartbroken. Will Remus reveal the truth behind his behavior? And will you still love him afterwards or has he truly lost you forever?

Young Remus Lupin x Reader(neutral)

Warning: FLUFF, so much fluff you could drown in it, self-doubt (brief)

Authors Note: This is the last part, which is crazy to me, I truly hope yall love it. This series is dear to my heart because it has allowed me to meet and talk to you and so many other amazing people! You all mean so much to me, and Remus is my lil baby too. I can’t even express how much I appreciate and love you all <3

Word Count: 5k

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven

Part Eight

****A Stag, a Rat and a Dog***

Remus POV

“That was-” Peter couldn’t even finish his sentence, he just laughed, he laughed so loud it was hard not to join in with him. James pat his back and nodded, wiping some of the blue glitter off on his shirt.

“Right, mate.” he agreed. Sirius was bouncing in his spot, none of our smiles breaking or dimming. “Another notch under the belt of our legacy of awesome,” he all but sang, all of our cheeks still flushed from this morning. He hit Sirius’s arm and they began to race up the stairs, Peter and I followed, jogging after them. “Lily loved it too!” he added, smiling even bigger at just the thought of her, he was beating Sirius.

We all stopped running and Sirius was scowling, he lost, we all stood at the portrait when Sirius turned to me. “Worked well on (Y/N) too,” he stated, smirking at me and making a sexual motion with his hips, James laughed and I pushed him. “Ew, your palms are sweaty.”

“We’ll excuse me, ABBA sweats no doubt after giving the performance of a life time.” I say while James says the word and the painting opens for us. “Besides, it has worked for now. But they are still oblivious to the truth. I might lose them all over again, once they know.”

The mood seemed to darken at this realization. Not everyone is as understanding about my condition as the boys. That’s the real reason I couldn’t stop sweating, and if the boys looked close enough they’d see I couldn’t stop shaking ever so slightly too. I just got (Y/N) back, I’m not sure how well I’d be able to cope with losing them a second, and final time. My heart broke just at the thought, and at the very realization that I might have to prepare myself for such an outcome.

“Mate, (Y/N) is one of the people in this world that loves you most. Besides us of course,” James smiled softly, trying to lighten the mood whenever he could, “I doubt, that anything could make them think differently of you. You’re not just your condition. You’re Remus feckin Lupin!” The other boys cheered in agreement as we stepped into our dorms, Peter even went as far as rubbing my shoulders to build up my confidence, he saw a trainer do it to a wrestler on muggle TV once.

“And we’ve got a romantic feckin plan!” Peter cheers, still excited about what is yet to happen. I swallow thickly once more, this day could be one of the best in a while, or the absolute worst. I guess we’ll know tonight.

“Yes, and are you guys sure you are okay with this?” I ask, for the fifth time. James rolls his eyes, and Sirius bangs his head on the dorm room wall.

“Yes, Moony. Yes. Yes. Yes. We are okay with this for the millionth time. (Y/N) is our friend too, and all we want is to see the lot of ya happy again, so will ya shut up about it. We already agreed, mate,” Sirius says, looking up just barely lifting his head from the wall.

“And we don’t like lying to (Y/N) either,” James says, Peter nods with each word falling from their lips, as he tugs on pants and grabs a new, not bedazzled, robe.

We were still talking and going over plans for tonight when we left for first period. The common room was quite expect for our meshed whispers and loud footfalls, it wasn’t until the painting door swung open that we heard another sound. An all too familiar sound.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat before us. Her hands folded in at her chest and her pointed eyes trained on us, unblinking. We all swallowed thickly, our fear and respect for her almost overwhelmed our courage and friendliness towards her. Almost.

“Did ya enjoy the concert, Minnie? I was singing just for you.” Sirius said, smiling and trying not to laugh as her expression remained unmoving. James joined in and I nearly rolled my eyes, but a smile found it’s way onto my lips nonetheless.

“Yeah, we saw ya a-tap-tap-tappy your toes!” He says, doing a little dance. I was amazed by her ability to not even crack a smile at our enthusiasm, but then again, this was nothing new to her. “ABBA gets to the best of us doesn’t it?” As if on cue, Sirius was speaking again. I fought my smile and faked a sullen expression, fingers crossed behind my back, this was the part where one of us tried to weasel our way out of trouble.

“Exactly, our hearts were in it Professor, truly we had good reason and we weren’t hurting anyone. Shame. Just a shame Dumbledore gave us detention, any more severe punishment just wouldn’t make any sense.” She raised a brow and in a last attempt I put in a word of my own.

“But you’re always so sensible Ms. McGonagall. I’m sure your punishment for us will be well-deserved. Perhaps our outfits were too flashy?” Peter chuckles beside me, and shows her the inside of his robe.

“But this one isn’t at all. Ya see?” He shows her adamantly until she raises a hand and we are drowning in silence, she made us sweat in our palms and neck before speaking.

“Yes. It appears your shenanigans are over. But Lucy is still in the hospital wing scrubbing at her skin, the smell is pungent and unmoving. It seems, Sirius,” She turns to face him, his adam apple bobs, “You did hurt someone. The real shame is that you don’t seem bothered by that fact. Follow me, boys.” She said, turning on us, her robes nearly swinging up and hitting our shins. We follow wordlessly and with our heads down, her words bothered us a little, what really stung was the disappointment on her face and in her frown. (Though Sirius swears he heard her singing along).

She went to Peter’s class first, he went to follow her inside but she raised a hand and said “Oh, you won’t be going to class this morning, Mr.Pettigrew.” She excused Peter herself, whispering into the teachers ear. My heart sank at the realization that I would not be seeing (Y/N) again this morning, James eyes me, my mood obviously changed. I couldn’t even spend any time with them before tonight, our lunch would serve as detention as well. I might never get to see them again after tonight, couldn’t even enjoy this little time I have before the truth is out. I won’t be able to be at peace until tonight or maybe even after, because who will love a monster?

For the rest of the morning we were locked in McGonagall’s empty classroom, writing out letters of apology to be given to Lucy in person later that day. And attempting to come up with a charm or some potion that would reverse the long lasting affect of the Stink Bombs that we have created. Wouldn’t be a marauders prank unless everything was well crafted, would it? But now, our little spell seems to be our downfall. Luckily, we found the right reversion potion, and it was taken to Madame Pom. immediately. By the time we were allowed to leave, the bell for second period had just rang.

I sat through my classes with sweaty hands, and bouncing legs. I agonized in the silence of detention about all that could go wrong, several times I re-debated whether I should really tell (Y/N) the truth, but it was clear that I needed too. I have lied for too long, and it has cost me too much. The truth will set me free...or at least I hope it will. I sat through my very last classes feeling both sick, and determined. Before we knew it, it was dinner time and James, Sirius, Peter and I snuck out of the castle for our final act of salvation. Our last attempt to make things right.

Your POV

The ground was rocky and uneven below my feet, between the clumps of dirt and hidden rocks this trip to Hagrids hut felt more like a mountain climbing experience than anything else. But my breathing was not ragged and exaggerated because of the walk, no, it was because ever since this morning my heart has been beating out of control. I’ve been breathless and filled with both anxiety and warmth since Remus kissed my cheek and handed me this note.

Tonight will mark either the end or the fresh start of our relationship, of our friendship...of our love.

My head is spinning as I stumble over a pumpkin root. What has he been hiding from me? Is it something bad, or big, or maybe something he is just blowing way out of proportion? What if the truth pulls us apart even more than the lies?

I shake my head in an attempt to free myself of this anxiety that swells in my stomach like a churning sea. Whatever it is, I will face it with patience and love, but also self-respect. I repeat this to myself until before I know it, I am at Hagrids hut. The walls of his house seemed to mountain over me, it smelled strongly of firewhiskey, burning firewood,rich dirt and sweet pumpkins. The smell did wonders in calming my mind, but I rather large frown makes its way onto my face as I look around. There was absolutely no one in sight.

I cuss under my breath. Maybe this is the wrong place. Maybe Remus is late? I chew at my bottom lip and take a few large steps around the hut, my eyes keep going back to analyze the trees of the forest. The shadows of the forbidden forest seemed to reach for me. It called for me. As if it was a whirlpool sucking me in I stepped towards it, staring into the layers of dark, large trees.

I held my breath as a bush by the very edge of the forest shook, rustling leaves and snapping twigs filled the brisk night air. I shivered, whether it was from the cold or the sudden fear I was not sure, but I did not have time to debate my feelings because suddenly, a canopy of dark green vines, hanging from the trees shifted.

Large, cream horns parted the vines and drooping tree leaves, a particular branch got stuck on the intricate swirling of the horns and snapped completely as the creature stepped further from the shadows, revealing itself to me.

A beautiful Stag stood proud, it’s thick coat shone under the moonlight, it’s chest puffed out at me with pride. The horns only added to it’s graceful height, but it’s eyes are what truly took my breath away. Those round, warm eyes they were so human. So familiar. Before I could debate it any further, the Stag stamped it’s hoof in the dirt softly, it snorted and white air swirled around it’s soft face. Only then did I notice the beautiful yellow rose, plucked from a bush and resting at it’s front legs.

I bring a shaky hand to my mouth, barely able to comprehended the wave of emotions that nearly knock me to my feet. This was of Remus’s doing. But...how? The Stag inclines it’s head curiously at me to the right, it’s large ears flicking with some sort of impatience, or unrest. Only then did I fully seem to understand the familiarity of this creature.

“James?” I gasp. The Stag seems to stand even taller at me, and...smiles. With my mouth still hanging wide open I let out a boisterous laugh. “James!” I almost yell, the Stag snorts again and leans it’s head down, using his nose to push the rose towards me. The movement doesn’t help me get over my shock, but it stirs me into action. I begin to cautiously walk forwards, and as I do the Stag er, James, picks up the rose between it’s teeth, when I am close enough he softly nuzzles it into my hand. I grip it tightly, it has already been de-thorned.

Carefully, with my free hand, I reach it out just a few inches in front of me and James places his Stag head onto my palm. I pet him softly, he stares up at me and it was as if I was staring at James himself.

“You clever bastard!” I exclaim, I knew how hard becoming Animigus is, but why would he do such a thing? I was broken out of my trance when the Stag (James) begins to walk, slowly at first, he looks back at me and inclines his head first and it was as if I could just hear him saying, in his cheeky manner ‘Ladies first, of course,”

I swallow thickly and fight another bout of paralyzing shock, and instead smile, following James through the forest. His hoofs sinking softly into the ground, the sound was methodic and helped with the strange over pour of emotions I’m feeling.

What happened next, is actually quite embarrassing. It started with a little scamper by my feet. Considering how far we’ve walked into the forest I was more than a bit concerned for my safety, but the large, strong Stag beside me cast most of my fears to the side. Then, through a break of moonlight through the trees I saw it. A large, fat rat!

I screamed so loud, dark ravens flew from their slumbers in the trees. James beside me stomped his feet, and checked the perimeter with analyzing eyes, searching for the danger. But they only found the rat. I never thought a Stag could give such an amused, disappointed expression, yet here I stand. Clinging to a deers ass for dear life, and he is looking back at me with said expression. My cheeks flush and I let go of his furry back, then the Rat very slowly inches towards me.

It’s sharp nose lifting and dancing from side to side, it’s soft brown eyes sparkling up at me. I’d say it even looked a little cute, friendly even. But what unusual behavior, and what unusual eyes. It’s tail glowing under the white light like a plump, pink worm...

“Wormtail!” I realize, laughter bubbling from my chest. The Rat lets out a gleeful squeak and James besides me snorts once again, seeming to laugh. The Rat scurried off into the shadows, and I can’t help but berate myself. Did I hurt his feelings?

But then he comes bounding back into sight, he stands on his back legs and his little Rat face seemed to glow with excitement as his pink hands unveiled a small little white wildflower. The same kind Remus would pick for me on walks we took together. My smile only grows bigger as I do a sweet curtsey and pick up the flower mid-bow, lifting it up to my nose as I stand straight again.

“My apologies, you know I don’t like rats. But I suppose I’ll have to make an exception for you.” I smile down at him, and he reveals two yellow buck teeth, smiling up at me with as much of a smile any rat can muster. I fail to hold in my laughter but extend my arm to him, he climbs up it and perches himself on my shoulder. I hold the two flowers in one hand, and rest my other on James soft shoulder, so I can be led through the dark forest, I knew by know, they were leading me to Remus.

Peter climbs down my other arm and onto James back, then up his head. I laugh as Peter holds on for deer(hehe I’m funny) life as James jokingly waves his head back and forth, Peter almost falls off but I help him back. We all seem to laugh in our own ways, when suddenly a loud bark cuts through the sound of laughter and owls and even the rustling of the woods around us. It was loud and impatient and yet humorous, it reminded me of someone I know well. I smirk, raising a brow I turn to the equally amused Stag and Rat, James and Peter.

“Wormtail. Prongs,” I say, motioning to the Stag who only inclines his head again, “And Padfoot. Let me guess... Sirius is also some animal wandering these woods, finding us by chance? A wolf, perhaps? A dog?” They don’t say a thing, they only begin to walk again. Turning us towards the sound of the echoing bark.

I was on the ground before I knew what was happening. We’ve walked just a few more minutes and then a cloud of black overcame my sense and tackled me to the floor. Black, Sirius Black, was a dog and on top of me. He was barking right by my ear and cuddling me, it wasn’t until two little Rat hands attempted to push his leg that he got off.

I was laughing uncontrollably, this was all too much. Too crazy. I knew they were geniuses, but this... becoming Animagus and though the reason was unclear I could feel it, something to do with Remus. With Moony. The nickname had a new meaning to me, and I wasn’t sure what yet, but I was sure I was about to find out.

Sirius was racing around me in circles as I stood up. His black tail wagging wildly, and his fur rustled and tossed under the wind. I wanted to coo and awe, though his eyes were human and mischievous, the rest of him was adorable and strong. A proud, handsome looking dog. It was clear, by his behavior, that he was just as excited to reveal this big secret, as I was to know the truth.

“Sirius! You dog,” I joke, a bad one on my part but he still barked with laughter and I shook my head, taking in the three of them. This was, Merlin, I didn’t even know what this was other than beyond surprising and impressive. Shocking.

Suddenly, Sirius makes one last dart behind me, he sends me in a spin and by the time I can control my footing he is back in front of me. He is sitting on his back legs, front paws up in the air and bent in a cute trick, his ears flopped forward. Just above his paws, drooping from the jaws of his mouth is a single daffodil. Daffodils, like the one written about in this favorite poem of mine that Remus would read me on bad days, I Wandered Lonely as A Cloud by William Wordsworth.

I sigh, tilting my head to the left, a soft smile on my lips. Everything about this was amazing and sweet. It was amazing that the boys had this whole other life I never knew about, which I’m sure there will be a reasonable explanation for my ignorance because ouch. But sweet, because this was obviously planned my Remus, but the boys were taking their own time to make it happen. I bend down and pat Sirius’s head, the only time he lets me touch his hair, I think, almost laughing. His tail wags as I pluck the flower from his mouth and he lets it fall easily into my hand.

I gather it with my other flowers, now forming a little bouquet and bring the whole lot of them up to my face and inhale. I close my eyes as I smell the sweet and powerful aromas, memories with Remus filled my head, and with it, a warmth filled my chest.

“I hope this hasn’t been all too much for you. I thought some truths would be better seen than told,” Remus says, walking up behind me. I spin around, I didn’t even notice the sound of crunching leaves behind me. But I couldn’t find it in me to speak, the moonlight dancing across Remus’s face, highlighting his eyes, and the soft curves of his lips with the ragged lines of his scars, I was astounded by the boy before me. Once again entranced. All the anxiety, all the fear has left me, as I stared at him clad in fancy pants and a button up to match.

He stops walking, unsure of where he stands with me. I step towards him, finding some clearing in the haze I begin to speak.

“It’s wonderful. They’re wonderful,” I say, turning with a thankful smile to the stag, the rat and the dog. They each in turn, show their teeth at me in an attempt of a smile. I laugh and beside me, Remus does too. With a nod of his head, they turn their backs on us and leave. I no longer needed guidance or safety. Remus stood before me and I felt something that has been missing for the past couple of days. And even though I was in the middle of the dangerous, forbidden forest, I knew that I was also home.

“I love the flowers. I must say, this night has already taken the most unexpected turn it could, but the nicknames definitely make more sense,” I attempt a bad joke, a habit of mine in a nerve wracking situation but Remus only seems to grimace slightly, before turning it into a smile, though it was a rather sad one.

“Well, you seem to be taking this well. Have you figured out mine yet?” He asked, his sad tone surprising me. We were so close his voice dropped low just out of habit it seemed, and because the short distance between us put us in a trance. I missed him. I missed him so much my body now seemed to come back from the dead and reach for him, I was alive again with dancing butterflies and buzzing questions. I glanced down to his lips, before taking a step back.

“No. But I can guess. It makes sense, once every month you seem to leave me. You change into someone who is distant, someone who doesn't seem to love me,” He steps forwards, looking pained by this realization, but as I speak it becomes clearer to me, but I can’t yet reach the conclusion.

“I will never become a person who doesn’t love you. I will change and grow but you will be the one thing that remains. You don’t have to guess anymore, but I want you to know that my love for you will always remain, even if after tonight, we do not,” he speaks with such reverence, like our love was something scared to him and deep down, I knew I felt the same way. It is my first love, and if I can help it, than he will be my only lover until the day I die. All I can do is nod as he steps forwards again, I can see a bead of sweat roll down the apple of his cheek, he was about to tell me. I can feel the shaking of his hands as he places them in mine.

Suddenly, his unbreaking stare leaves me, and in place, find the bright moon. Twinkling in the sky and illuminating us in its wake. I understood in that moment, Moony. A boy mapped with scars. Moony. A boy plagued by nightmares, and insecurities. Moony. A tough, but oh so scared boy who seemed to hate the very night itself. Moony. The boy who changes during the month, and is gone completely on the full moon. Moony. Moony, the Werewolf.

I pull on his hands and gather him into my embrace, pulling back only to kiss him sweetly. The world becomes ours as our lips dance with one another to a song we’ve heard before. It is the song of him making love to me. It is the song of the poems he reads me and the flowers he picks. It is the song of the moons very envy as she watches us together. The song of lovers. It moves us. It moves my hands up his neck and through his hair. It moves his lips across my cheek and jaw and then down my neck. It moves the wind, and the trees around us. It pulls the moans from our mouths and then the confessions.

“My beautiful love,” Remus kisses the words into my skin, up to my lips. “My only love,” he mumbles into my lips, kissing me softly but his hands are bruising at my hips. As if I would leave him if he did not hold me close enough and for forever.

“I love you, Remus ‘Moony’ Lupin. I love all of you and all that you ever will be and all that you have been.” He pulls back from me, his eyes glazed with tears and a softness that makes my heart sing. He nods, and than he laughs. A tear falls from his eyes as his head leans back and he laughs, the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. It was as if all his anxiety, and self-hatred has left him and in their place my words have nestled in. I love him. I love him. I love him.

“I’m a werewolf ya know?” he says, still laughing, he knew I made the connection. At this point it was pre-caution, I roll my eyes and kiss him again. The world is forgotten as we kiss, as we rejoin as one and as lovers. I pull back and softly wipe away his tears.

“I know,” I whisper into his lips, he smiles, giving me a soft kiss. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Remus?” I ask, pulling away from him. He frowns now, his cheeks red with blush, and lips to match.

“I thought I’d lose you forever. That you’d think I was some monster, or- or beast. You always looked at me like I was the world, and I was terrified one day you’d see the real me, and just- well, stop loving me altogether.” While he speaks his eyes still glitter with the promise of tears, and my heart sinks at his words.

“I think I understand your anxiety about it. I can’t imagine how hard it must be. But I would never stop loving you for such a thing, merlin, I don’t think anything could stop me from loving you. I never want you to feel the need to hide from me again, okay?” Remus nods into my hands, I still haven't moved them since I wiped away his tears, it seemed like more keeps falling each time.

“The boys became Animigmus to help with my full moons. It can get pretty bad… but ever since they have come along things really got better, really they did.” he adds when seeing my sad facial expression. My heart felt broken all over again at just the thought of Remus being in pain, alone and suffering. I swore in that moment, I’d do anything in this world to help make things better for him. I nod my head. He continues.

“And Lucy, her older sister is a werewolf. She figured out that I was one pretty quickly, she said I could speak to her about it all, and that she could help somehow. It was nothing more, she just let me complain and even write some letter to her sister. I never even thought of Lucy like the way I think of you. She was always just a friend, but that remains no more. To hell with her,” he says. He can’t stop smiling, a real, golden smile. There was nothing holding him back, I could just tell he felt so much lighter. I took his hand and wordlessly led him to sit on the grass with me. We laid shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the stars together.

He told me in depth about how he was bitten as a child, about how it changed his life. Then when the boys told him they were becoming Animgus for him and all the little moments and adventures they’ve had since. He didn’t sugar coat a thing, he didn’t lie. He was bearing his soul before me for the first time, without any thin veil holding us back and I’ve never felt closer to him. It was well past curfew by the time I felt satisfied with everything he’s told me, I felt both heavy with this knowledge and yet free. I felt included and like I truly knew Remus, and I still did love him. More than ever, I love him.

We laid in silence for some time, my head has moved to lay on his chest and I can hear the steady, warm beating of his heart.

“Can you hear it?” he asks, out of the blue. I strain my ears to listen to the forest around us, I lift my head slightly and he laughs. “No. My heart, can you hear it?” I lean back into him and let out a little laugh myself.

“Oh. Yes,” I smile, “I can hear it.”

“Good. It beats for you.”mhe says, I look up at him only to find that he has already been looking at me. His eyes soft, and smile warm, his heart steady under the palm of my hand and loud within the stillness of the night. It beats for you. His words echoed in my head and I couldn’t help myself, I lean forward and press my lips against him. I could kiss him forever. I could be with him here like this forever, alone and in love, honest and unafraid.

I understood a lot of things that night, more than just about who Remus was and the secrets he has been hiding. More than the truths that he bared and the love that we had. I understood how after all this time of separation and uncertainty. After exhausting ourselves in a sea of sorrow and questions, we have finally found our peace. I have found my happiness. And I realized something rather important. Rapture is a boy. Rapture is love.

Taglist:

@crazylokonugget @beyondprincess @1975weasley @nicodoesntexist @goto-hi-this-is-my-brain @yoyoitsbella @ftwert @sognatrice-as-a-hobby @dontjudgemyobsessionpls @blackpinkdolan

@holdenviolet @katie-lupin05 @acoustic-archie @trishizzl @accio-willtolive-lmao @ilistentotayswifttocope @kopheliablack

#young remus imagine #remus lupin #young remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #harry potter #harry potter fandom #the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #fluff #werewolves #pls im emotional this series is over #young marauders #i love yall

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emiken-070907 · 3 years

Text

A Different Kind Of Story - Dance and Grace

It was time for some music and refinement. After some business talk with a scammy octopus lady, Yuko decided to show a small feast she once was invited to, arranged by her friends from Scarabia, and some day-to-day life at the ever so gorgeous Pomefiore.

A Different Kind of Story: Chapter 4

Yuko hasn't even been a solid 5 minutes in the Scarabia dorm, but they already were melting. The afternoon sun was brutal on her skin. Grim wasn't doing any better.

"Are you ok, Yuko? Should I get you something to drink?" Yuko turned her head two face two worried, red eyes.

"Is that a yes or a no? You know what? It doesn't matter. I'll get you one," Kalim said as she patted Yuko on the shoulder before getting up. The brunette tried to stop her, but Kalim didn't listen and quickly came back with some drinks.

"You really shouldn't have to..." Yuko said but took the drinks regardless. "You don't have to be so polite! You two are our guests! A drink or two should be the least!" Yuko could have sworn she needed sunglasses with how bright Kalim was. It gave her a warm feeling of familiarity.

All of a sudden, a sweet and flavourful smell filled the lively lounge of Scarabia. A brunette with long hair and a hood came into the room. She carried multiple plates with different foods, which vary from perfectly sweet to super spicey.

"Wow! These smell amazing, Jamil-senpai," The Prefect of Ramshackle praised, clapping their hands together with sparkles in their eyes. Jamil didn't pay her or her compliment any mind and just placed the dishes on the table.

"You can compliment me if it tastes as good as it smells.", the second-year commented blankly.

"Fnyaaa, why can't you take the compliment! She's at least trying to be nice to you, even after what you did, you snake!" Yuko looked down at Grim and smiled fondly while giving Grim some head pats. Jamil just turned around with an angry huff and leaving the room to get more food.

"Seriously, why are you trying to be so friendly with her? It's obvious she doesn't give a damn about everyone but herself."

"That sounds like everyone at this school, to be honest. People deserve a second chance, and I think I'm not the only one who knows this." The first-year turned to Kalim, who looked kind of sad. Yuko knew that Kalim still concerned herself with many things. Yuko didn't know why or what those things were, but they also felt like it wasn't their place to ask questions.

Yuko's train of thought was interrupted by the other members of the dorm, who all decided to dig in and enjoy the sweet and spicy dishes their vice leader made.

The feast came along significantly.

Cheerful chattering filled the room. It had accompanied by entertaining music, played by some students who had already finished their meal.

The two guests from Ramshackle were having a small conversation with the ever so joyful host of the party. Mostly Grim was talking with her. Yuko just sat there, enjoying her meal while her furry companion on her lap was having a good time.

The young Crowley roamed the filled room with attentive eyes. She saw students eating and praising the food, telling stories (some real, some not), or were merely telling jokes and were having a good time. Among those students, there was a brunette standing on the sides, watching them. An idea then popped into the first-year's head.

Yuko excused herself politely from the second-year who so kindly invited them. They then proceeded to walk to the vice to start a little chat for herself.

"Hello Jamil-senpai," Yuko greeted. "The dishes were astounding. The sweets felt like they were melting in my mouth! There also was a hint of apple in there, or am I incorrect? Either way, would you mind if I asked for the recipe itself?" Startled, Jamil turned around to face her junior.

"Uhm, of course? I did not know you'd enjoy it that much that you would ask for the recipe. It's a common sweet in my family" Jamil seemed taking back by Yuko's sudden request. Yet only an innocent smile painted their face while listening to their senior reciting the recipe.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Yuko," Ace mocked with a sly smile.

"What could you possibly mean, Ace?"

"Don't act this innocent. If you are an alternate version of our buddy Yuu here, then you are just trying to annoy her, aren't you? Also, you and Kalim there are disgustingly sweet, I have to say." The ace of Heartslabyul said. Yuko gasped in offence and put one of her gloved hands on her chest gem.

"Oh, how could be so mean! I just tried to have a nice conversation with my upperclassmen", the girl wailed. "And, ohh, I am sorry that I am just having some fun with Kalim. I didn't know being nice to others is actually 'disgusting'" Ace smirk swiftly was erased from his face. Some of the first years even snickered a bit about the answer to the boy's comment.

"It is just," the girl in the mirror continued. "I like talking to her since she gives up a sense of comfort. She is like the older sister I never had," Yuko said fondly.

Kalim was also beaming with joy and pride. It seemed knowing that someone, who isn't related to him, thought of him as an older sibling figure made him happy. Even though not directly meant.

"A-ah! Let's not get distracted, shall we? Next is Pomefiore," the girl in the mirror announced.

"Of course not. Although, before we start, let me say that it is very nice to hear that you think that way, young one." Lilia was heart warmed. Father instincts, Yuko silently assumed before fading from the other sight.

After Yuko got the recipe for the dish Jamila made, they said their goodbyes to her friends and made her way to Pomefiore.

The old castle was as beautiful and graceful as ever. The afternoon wind made it seem even more like it was from a fairytale.

As soon as Yuko entered the big walls of Pomefiore, she got greeted by a petit-looking first-year. The student's long lavender hair swayed behind them as they approached Yuko as if a breeze was flowing through the dormitory.

"Yuko! Perfect timing! Please save me from Vil! She's trying to put me in one of those disgusting, frilly dresses!" the smaller girl whined. She clutched against Yuko's arm as if it would have helped convince Yuko of her need for help. "Epel, please, I can't hide you every time. I also am starting to think that Vil might know our hideouts by now" Yuko kindly smiled as Epel continued to beg for her help. Yet to no avail.

Moreover, Vil appeared. Her long gowns were perfectly put on, with no faults whatsoever. They flowed behind her while she walked down the hall towards the first years.

It was like looking at a goddess.

But alas, this beauty was angry.

Behind her followed NRC's huntress, Rook. Her heavy boots' steps and Vil's high heels clicking echoed through the empty and silent hall, Epel's begging long died out.

"Epel! How dare you try to run away again! You'll never learn how to use those natural looks correctly. Don't get me started on how to treat them right!" Vil pinched Epel's cheek, ignoring the junior's complaints.

"Oh my, oh my! The Trickster has arrived! How splended~ Your little companion is at your side, as well."

Yuko smiled politely and started holding Grim a little tighter in her arms, in case Grim would try to flee from the huntress.

"I am also very delighted to make your acquaintance again, Rook-senpai. How is it currently going?" The senior started beaming at the question with a bright smile. Her hands flew up to her head. "Oh Trickster, how happy I am that you asked! Reine de Poison was only trying to show our little apple how to put on more voluminous dresses, but the little one didn't seem to like the idea, which is a loss, to be honest. Just imagine Mademoiselle Cherry Apple in one! She'd look like an innocent angel~."

Yuko couldn't hide their chuckle at the thought of Epel wearing something like that. Now they sure knew why Epel was so desperate for help.

They all made their way to the lounge for some tea, the argument between Vil and Epel never-ending during the short walk.

At this point, the Ramshackle Prefect was holding Grim's mouth shut, knowing that Grim would spit some non-polite comment. Either at Rook or Vil. Which both wouldn't end well for them.

Vil, Epel, Yuko and Grim seated themselves on the beautiful couches of Pomefiore. Rook made her way into the kitchen to prepare the tea. For Yuko's and Grim's ears pleasure, Vil's and Epel's bickering had stopped.

"So tell me, little potato," Vil started, "have you finally renovated your old dorm by now? I am confident that this hideous place could look better," Harsh as ever, Yuko thought.

Nonetheless, the dorm leader was right. It was old and rotten, and it already was hard work to get it into the condition it is now.

"The renovations are coming along, Vil-senpai, yet I highly doubt I will get it finished any time soon. Nonetheless, I am happy to say that I acquired some donations from Azul. For furniture for the interior, as well for the outer parts. Maybe I'll even have to ask someone to help me with the gardens soon if this all keeps going at this pace. But first, the rooms and all should be looking presentable, of course." Yuko explained. Her senior hummed understanding.

Rook re-enters the lounge with a trey, which has some tea and snacks on it. "Oh la la, what did I miss? Where are you talking about the Ramshackle dormitory?" Room asked as she put the trey downs on the table. How did she know that? Until now, she was in another room!

"Yes, we were discussing the Ramshackle dormitory, Rook. The renovations, to be exact," Vil said as she sipped her tea.

"Epel, you were awfully quiet until now. Does the topic of your friend's home not interest you?"

As if being ripped out of a daydream, Epel quickly looked up. "N-no, this isn't the reason! I didn't want to interrupt yall- I mean you all."

Vil inspected her as if trying to figure out if she was lying or not. After 20 seconds of starring, Vil accepted the explanation as genuine and let out a small sigh.

"Epel, at least sit straight and look me in the eyes while talking. The cup goes up to your head, not your head to the cup!" Vil pinched Epel's cheek once again, ignoring Epel's whines. It all ended in another argument.

Leona put one of his hands on his temple in annoyance. He just witnessed two arguments, one in full length and the other one's just started. "Is this also like this here?"

"Yep, totally," said all the first-years in unison, except for Epel, who had a feeling of betrayal in his eyes.

"How could you all fall into my back like that?!"

"Epel, you know that they are sadly telling the truth. We, rather often, have different opinions on things," Vil kindly reminded the student he took under his wing. Like a father

"Nevertheless, Leona, you should know how hard it can be to look after your first years. Oh wait, on second thought, you probably don't, since you push all your responsibilities onto Ruggie,"

Leona only growled, knowing that starting a fight with the fellow third-year would be pointless.

Everyone in the room went quiet. Even Rook didn't say anything. After a minute of awkward silence and Vil and Leona starring at each other, Yuko cleared her throat, getting all of the male's attention.

"How about we move on to our last two dorms. Then we'll call it for today? It's been a long day with a lot of new things to process," Yuko clapped their hands together while talking. They were just happy that there weren't any nasty comments on any of her friends.

{to be continued}

First

[A/n: Sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors, English is not my first language!]

#twisted wonderland #twst yuu #twst mc #Yuko Crowley #nrc #night raven college #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #ace trappola

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if-the-crown-fits-translate-it · 3 years

Text

Discord pt 89

[Date: 17/03, 12.53 PM GMT - 17/03, 02.33 PM GMT]

[This conversation was going on in #arg, partly simultaneously to another in #general2.]

Maxwell: “Give me one sec I’m gonna go check on the buds....

Maxwell: “....you guys

We might have a slight problem

Or well it’s a big

Bad

Problem

Jack the Observer: “Right.

Hit us”

Maxwell: “The buds

There’s more

And the ones from yesterday....they’re opening up and blooming”

Jack the Observer: “Unfortunate. But not surprising.

...”

Maxwell: “what do I do”

Maxwell: “I’m....gonna have a nap...”

Jack the Observer: “Rest well, max

We’ll... work on it”

Maxwell: “Thank you”

[People discuss possible ways of getting rid of the buds that had been brought up the previous day.]

donti (e): “FLOWERS USE PHOTORECEPTORS TO KNOW WHEN TO BLOOM

wear hat 24/7 so no light?”

Maxwell: “I almost always wear my hood but I don’t know if that’ll help

It grew from last night”

donti (e): “if light is hitting the bud its not enough,,,”

Maxwell: “There’s more buds and some are starting to open”

donti (e): “oh no...”

looks like we have til the 20th to figure things out, if that speeds anything to go by”

Maxwell: “I think little leaves may be forming too although they’re very tiny...”

donti (e): “max.. we got this.. you can trust that we'll help you”

Jack the Observer: “Does it hurt to touch?”

Maxwell: “Not really it just feels sore, I can’t feel my hair touching it but I can feel my hands on it

It’s....weird...”

donti (e): “... are you feeling the BUDS or like, the feeling of bUDS being touched

like,,, do the buds have.. nerves

or is it more like you can feel it bc its physically attached to you”

Maxwell: “I think i can feel it cause it’s attached to me like I can feel my hood on em...

It’s not super noticeable but I can still feel it”

donti (e): “alright thats good so theres,, not any nerves that are based on sense of touch,,, thats good thats good”

Maxwell: “Isn’t it technically though?

Since I can feel through em a bit”

LLyr: “is it like how you feel nails?”

Maxwell: “Like if something touched them I could tell cause I would feel it...”

donti (e): “or like hey someone is punching my backpack type of feeling”

Maxwell: “More like a skin thing....”

Jack the Observer: “Like if someone touched your fingernails you can feel it”

donti (e): “uh oh...”

Jack the Observer: “Even tho ur nails have no nerves”

donti (e): “nerves,,,”

Jack the Observer: “And you can cut fingernails safely”

LLyr: “hm. thats not good.”

Jack the Observer: “If there are actually nerves in there. That’s more complicated.”

Maxwell: “Yeah....”

[This means that cutting the buds out is not an option anymore]

Maxwell: “.....”

[But perhaps cutting the buds out could be done as a last resort?]

Maxwell: “Please no”

donti (e): “max, its up to you, would you rather have to keep the laurel or have it be cut off as a last ditch effort”

Maxwell: “I don’t know neither is a good option—”

[Methods of potentially slowing the buds’ growth are discussed instead]

donti (e): “we can also try like,,, straight up trying to freeze the buds off”

Maxwell: “I’ve been outside in the freezing cold a lot cause I’ve been to go to school in person some days and it hasn’t done a thing”

donti (e): “.... im talking colder than that. artificial cold.”

[Were the flowers like spring flowers then? Could they be destroyed by intense heat?]

Jack the Observer: “I feel like anything hot enough to melt metal should not be getting near Max’s head.

Might just be me /s”

LLyr: “no i’m with you there 3:”

Maxwell: “Also if this wreath does have nerve endings that will not feel nice”

[donti (e): “max try the light thing for now... and take a hot bath later”]

Maxwell: “I actually had one yesterday....

donti (e): “did it help at all?”

Maxwell: “It didn’t do anything”

Maxwell: “Maybe it would help if we know what’s gonna bloom from them....?”

fetch: “mona's got hella farmers almanacs and gardening books

somewhere on the bookshelf in the living room, so you can nose around over there”

Maxwell: “But there’s so many different flowers...”

Jack the Observer: “They’re unlikely to be very delicate.”

Jack the Observer: “I would say check early spring flowers. Snowdrops and the like.”

fetch: “also before yall ask yes I've accepted the fact that it is in fact a circlet and not matted hair and no I don't want to talk about it”

Mothbo: “Totally understandable Fetch”

Jack the Observer: “Uh huh.

Very cool, fetch.”

fetch: “what were you expecting?”

Maxwell: “If they’re flowers...did page ever say what his flower was? If this is meant to be like a new circlet maybe it’ll be that”

Jack the Observer: “Oh! That’s a good idea actually

Let me check”

fetch: “page liked freesia flowers”

Maxwell: “Hm...I looked at the meanings and white ones mean innocence and yellow mean friendship...sounds fitting”

https://www.gardenia.net/plant/freesia-single-white

Found more stuff on em

Maxwell: “They require minimum maintenance....”

Maxwell: “They don’t all look like freesias though....I can barely see but the inside seems to be a different a flower? Hold on ima try to find which one it is”

Maxwell: “I think I know which one it may be...”

Maxwell: “I think they may be marigolds”

donti (e): “... i see”

Maxwell: “I don’t think it’s the average one though”

donti (e): “huh. whats up”

Jack the Observer: “Marigolds are usually quite large. If they do end up growing in, it would be quite the sight.”

Maxwell: “Calendula

Or pot marigolds...”

donti (e): “it says overhead watering is bad, but once again, bath. so these are probably way more sturdy”

Maxwell: “I’ve always liked them....”

donti (e): “ah.”

Maxwell: “They can be used to treat different things so they can be helpful for survival

https://www.gardeningknowhow.com/ornamental/flowers/calendula/common-calendula-uses.htm”

Jack the Observer: “So a mixture of what you like and what Page likes.”

Maxwell: “Funny....”

donti (e): “... yea”

Jack the Observer: “It is, a little bit. But it makes sense.

Maybe you should make a memory list for yourself, by the way.”

donti (e): “so guessing from what we've already notices, the flowers that are budding do not have the same characteristics as their natural counterparts”

Maxwell: “Says the plant can tolerate a lot of conditions...

A memory list?”

Jack the Observer: “Marigolds are quite sturdy.”

donti (e): “but the other flower isnt”

Jack the Observer: “A memory list is a list of things you’d want to remember if you were wiped, given to someone you trust. For example, Marcus couldn’t remember his name or his sister right away when he took the circlet off. And there’s some speculation that it could help you “snap out of it””

Maxwell: “Hm...”

Jack the Observer: “Some people have made them already.”

Maxwell: “Do you have a list of things I should add to it perhaps? Knowing me I’d forget important things to add heh....”

Void: “not to distract from the current convo, but have yall checked the doc recently? (please Internet connection let me send at least this message)”

donti (e): “! whats wrong with the doc?”

fetch: “the doc is fine?

trust me I'd know if something was wrong”

jaynoblade: “i can't see anything that's really changed? just a bit of an update to include baroness in the court”

donti (e): “yea,”

fetch: “Yeah, thats all I been doin

Adding baroness, and all we know about her”

Void: “just. about sunflower seeds? well maybe not”

fetch: “:?”

Maxwell: “Seeds?”

fetch: “no clue what you're talking about bud”

Maxwell: “.....lemme check”

fetch: “I mean sunflower seeds are a good snack”

Maxwell: “Where do you see that?”

[This is the referenced doc change, written by fetch:]

#on:discord #by:maxwell #by:fetch #if the crown fits

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gguktarts · 4 years

Text

decathect | jjk (2)

1. to withdraw one’s feelings of attachment from (a person, idea, or object), as in anticipation of a future loss

summary: if one thing was clear to you when you first met Jeon Jungkook, it was that he would never love you. at least, not the way you wanted him to.

pairing: jjk x reader genre: unrequited love au || angst || little fluff if u Squint || drabble series word count: 2.2k parts: « previous | 2 / ? | next » cw: kinda unhealthy depictions of a crush, & jk is a fuckboy w lots of tatts and long hair. note: well,, i don’t like this one bUT here yall go!!! breaky breaky eggs and heart bakey ey :’)

Being late to class was the first of the signs, you should have known. It didn’t impact your grade in any way, but the reason behind it certainly stirred about some changes.

While Jungkook still remains a part of some of your days, lately it’s a less common occurrence. You figure maybe it’s his doing, that your face must have given you away that day, that he must have figured something out and that whatever he knows doesn’t sit well with him, but deep down you know it’s your fault.

It’s not that he’s avoiding you, but that you’re avoiding him–as well as the images that still haunt your memory. So, whenever you see him in the halls you turn and walk away just a tiny bit faster, and when you guys speak, you only voice out what’s necessary. It’s gotten to the point where you worry over him thinking you’re mad at him, when in fact you are not. You’re not upset that he kissed someone, how could you be? Jungkook is more of a stranger than he is a friend to you, and he owes you nothing. And it doesn’t matter that the constant reminder makes your heart drop all the way to your feet, nor that despite everything your stomach still battles the fluttering butterflies his smile cultivates and nurses. It’s actually that last part that annoys you out of all, the one that triggered your flight response.

Even now, sharing your favorite takeout at Tae’s, it’s clear you’re more closed off with him than usual – even when the subject is as ridiculous as VHS porn. Actual, physical VHS porn, all property of Taehyung. He apparently went on a shopping spree early in the morning, which explains the two thick tapes inches from his plate. They’re keeping the lot of you some extra company.

“I just can’t believe you bought more, honestly. And with real money,” you mutter in disbelief, amusement painting your tone. The fact that Tae not only owns (and buys) them but also keeps them in pristine condition is not something you understand. He doesn’t even have a VHS player. "You know the internet exists, right, babe? And with better quality.”

A look at the colorful cases makes you visibly cringe. There’s far too many freed titties and schoolgirl skirts for your liking. “They’re probably as bad as the old ones aren’t they…”

Tae’s eyes widen with a hint of betrayal; his chopsticks pointing at you in accusation. “They’re HISTORIC, ok? Like beanie babies... And they only cost 3 dollars each—”

"How would you know if hyung’s tapes are bad or not?” Jungkook’s voice interrupts, doing nothing but throwing you under the bus with the teasing question.

You blink, for a hot second forgetting you haven’t told Taehyung about that specific day a few months back. He was gone all day doing who knows what, while Namjoon and yourself, under the tight reign of curiosity and the profound liberty of a free evening, went over the most ridiculous titles he owns. It’s the sudden look of suspicion he gives you what brings back the fact to surface. Right. You’re the one with the VHS player. He knows that.

From your peripheral Jungkook’s inquisitive gaze pierces your skin, distracting you from the way Namjoon’s posture straightens with the reminder. He hasn’t said a single word to stop you, though, so you take that as a sign.

“Joon and I watched them,” you confess quickly, slurping on some stir-fry noodles with a small, apologetic smile playing on your lips. “And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, but Tae, they’re terrible. Except maybe… Eaten by the Big Bad Wolf, I guess.”

The name makes Jungkook break out in giggles, a sound so cute you have to press your lips together just to not grin along with him. Whining, Taehyung swats the younger’s arm before whipping his head to look between Joon and you, more pouty than angry.

“First of,” he begins, “Eaten by 2BW IS good. You guys are just uncultured about the rest. But more importantly, you two? Both?”

None of you deny it. Joon simply grins apologetically and shrugs, far too busy gulping down his meat to do more than that— he knows Tae won’t do anything to him, he’s too valuable a roommate. Instead, you hear Jungkook voice out a tiny surprised “huh” before any words leave him.

“I didn’t take you for the type to watch porn, Y/N.”

You still mid bite, eyebrow raised as you’re forced to glance his way. “Because I’m a girl?”

“No, it’s just… you don’t strike me as a sexual one, I guess?”

“Oh.”

He doesn’t say it to hurt you, you know that. It’s not like his phrasing should hurt you either, but somehow, it still does. It’s easy for you to skip past all you should be thankful for—that he doesn’t sexualize you, that he doesn’t consider you an option for the fuck-and-go experiences he tends to have, and that maybe, just maybe, therefore you’re not seen as disposable. All of those, while in ways reassuring, are drowned out by a single underlying fact: in a world where Jungkook knows not love but lust, where his touch is reserved for only the bright who catch his eye, you’re but a white dwarf to his starry gaze, all but faded and extinguished. Nearly a dead star, you’re empty of whatever he searches for, of whatever he wants, and so what little he gives you are never meant to get.

The thought rings around your eardrums enough seconds for your smile to drop and your teeth to clench, but you’re quick to put on a mask of vague confusion and annoyance. Even your tone comes out dry.

“Jee, thanks? I’m flattered I can contain my hormones in check.”

“It’s because you’re never here when she’s ovulating–she gets hornly as hell,” Tae counters just when the youngest opens his mouth, eyes on him before they settle on you. His gaze goes soft, as if asking if you’re okay in between the jabs, speaking the words he isn’t. But you’re too busy almost choking, heat spreading from your ears and along your cheeks, to notice it. The thought that he spoke to shut Jungkook up not crossing your mind. “I don’t really understand why you never do anything about it, love. Could literally be getting love-fucked right about now.”

“Taehyung, what the fuck?” you squeak, embarrassment threatening to consume you, but thankful nonetheless it’s a type of distraction. You don’t see Jungkook blink in confusion, nor his repeated whisper of Tae’s new word. You focus on the way Namjoon pinches Tae’s arm. It earns him a glare and a yelp.

“Leave her alone, man,” Joon chides, making you smile again without entirely understanding the look they briefly share.

“What? She knows I love her,” Tae says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He’s always quick to butter you up with it. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“Yes. But if we could just shift the topic to something besides my non-existent love life I’d love that even more."

"What?” Joon opens his mouth after a blink, suddenly intrigued because as far as he’s concerned, you were practically dating last you spoke to him about that. Only, you weren’t–aren’t, and even if he is on your side in this conversation, he’s too big of an information hoarder (read: gossip) to let it go from the get go. “But I thought the date with Jaebum went okay?”

You give him a look. “Date? We were studying for our midterms, like I told you.”

“Oh, I thought– but he looks so interested in you…”

Taehyung nods along, “Yea, whenever he sees me he asks about you.”

“Wait, are we talking about Jackson-hyung’s friend?” Jungkook asks, tone mildly curious. You drown the words out, but his voice still makes your throat close up for a few seconds longer.

“Yup,” Namjoon confirms, “You know him?"

"Never actually talked to him, but Yugyeom hangs with him from time to time. Seems nice enough,” Jungkook shrugs, turning to you with a soft, encouraging smile. “I don’t know if he likes you but if you’re interested I could ask–”

“I’m not,” you snap, jaw clenching. Your fingers stiffly hold onto the chopsticks, a flimsy attempt at ignoring the way your bones hold your heart before it slips and falls. And it does fall, because you can already feel the sickening feeling pooling and spreading from your stomach and along your limbs. You notice it so quickly that you remind yourself, like a mantra, that this is ridiculous, that you shouldn’t even be feeling this way. Yes, he doesn’t like you. You knew that already, Y/N. Going from point A to point B, it’s logical he doesn’t care if you date anyone, that he encourages it as long as you’re into it. But you don’t want his kindness.

Hurt flashes over Jungkook’s gaze as you stare him down, but it’s gone so quickly you’re unsure if it was there in the first place. Still, the thought you might have caused it doesn’t sit well with you. It quickly forms a lump in your throat, making you swallow before softening your features.

“I’m– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like an ass,” your voice comes out a whisper, and you turn back to your plate. Jungkook’s own “it’s okay,” is too soft your ears. You know you have to behave normally, quickly. So you press your lips together and offer them a dramatic sigh to at least begin to sound believable.

“I’d just rather none of you did anything. I already know he likes me, he’s asked me out before,” you confess, voice somehow unwavering. It gives the push you need to put on a mask of indifference as you look head on, not at Jungkook but at Joon. He looks surprised, but remains quiet. “And no, I didn’t accept. He is nice, but I–I don’t like anyone like that at the moment.”

It takes effort to finish the lie, to hide the sting in front of them–in front of him– but you have more than one tell. And Taehyung knows each and every one very well. The soft rebuke, the intensified interest in your noodles as the lie flowed through your lips. Tae knows you, sometimes better than you know yourself, and he knows he has to do what he does best: he shifts the tone.

“That’s okay. You’re too good for him anyways. But none of that matters because I just remembered something I find absurdly unforgivable,” Taehyung says, face going completely serious. His eyes are fixed on you with such intensity you wonder if he’s about to tell you the secrets of the universe, or his mom’s secret strawberry cheesecake recipe, which seems less likely. Instead he lets out the shrillest whine, “you did not tell me you love me back. Now explain to me, how am I supposed to continue on? What will inspire me now, huh?”

And just like that, the tense air begins to clear out.

“Eh, you’ll live,” you joke, physically unable to push back the tiny smile lighting up your face at his antics.

“Not like you’ve painted anything in ages, anyway,” Namjoon adds, teasing.

“Well, if I had any of my own paint,” Tae mutters, giving Jungkook a pointed look, “maybe I’d find some inspiration.”

Jungkook scoffed, “I have two tubes total, not your entirely collection, hyung.”

“Yes, but you have my favorite ones! Amethyst Shards and Indigo Fields are so hard to find, too…”

“I’m almost done with them anyways, just pass by tomorrow and pick them up,” Jungkook snickers, eyes crinkling at the other’s pout.

“Fine, but show me what you’re working on.”

Taking the moment to drift away, you grab the already empty plates and take them to the kitchen. It’s Namjoon’s turn to wash the dishes so you leave them be, and return to both of your boys huddled around Jungkook’s extended hand, phone on display.

You don’t know what you expected to see, but it’s definitely not the portrait of the girl he was kissing the other day. She’s laying on her side, naked on a bed of violets, and you can’t deny she’s beautiful. Your heart sinks further than before as you take in the level of detail he poured into his work, into her. The way her hair falls over her arms and tangles with the leafs underneath, the way a form of innocence is reflected on her eyes. They’re elements you see only because he sees them. Did she change his mind about relationships? Does he like her, just the way you like him? You don’t know– you don’t know anything at all.

You feel like puking your insides out. And you’re aware you’re at the end of the rope for the day, that the thin line is about to break, and that you can’t hold back the water pooling behind your eyes for much longer. So like usual, you try to flee.

At the very least you compliment his work, genuinely amazed by his ability, but that’s the last you can do before the masks starts to crack. You don’t register his grateful smile, nor anything after that, really. You just give Tae an offhand excuse you don’t really process, and without waiting for any sort of response you scurry out of the room, vision blurry.

By the time you’re inside safer walls, tears have already stained your cheeks.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jungkook x y/n #bts jungkook #jungkook #bts fic #drabble series: dct

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kyberled · 3 years

Text

senses and other oddly specific headcanons

tagged by: @wolfhymns

tagging: all yall

1. What does your muse smell like?

I mean, that really depends on whether or not he’s just come back from a mission, and where that mission was, what he did there… That sort of thing. Generally, though, he smells like a few things. Leather, leather polish, ozone, sweat.... Tea, too, though the specific blend varies. Dried flowers. From there, we get the specifics: Blood and bacta if he’s just left the medical bay. If he’s been on kitchen duty, spices and other ingredients. Metal polish if he’s been working on his sabers. Fresh flowers and plants, perhaps river water, if he’s been in the gardens or grottos of the Temple. Animal fur if he’s been helping out in the menagerie. Sand and water if he’s been hanging out at the lake. Soap if he’s just showered, detergent if he’s just been on laundry duties, et cetera et cetera. Perhaps a bit of engine fuel or alcohol in his rogue timeline. Overall, he minds his cleanliness and smells nice enough, but he doesn’t fit in any perfume ads (nor does he want to).

2. What do your muse’s hands feel like?

They’re calloused, first of all. He’s got calluses on his fingers and palms, and on his knuckles - especially the first two. He’s also got some fainter callouses on the little bony nub just between his wrist and his thumb - you know the one, the ‘hinge’ of the digit - but those are more from breathing exercises than combat training. The heels of his palms are also well conditioned. Even still, his hands aren’t terribly rough. As a medic, he washes his hands a lot. He also knows that frequent handwashing leads to dry skin leads to cracks leads to easier infection, so he moisturizes his hands pretty regularly. Nothing fancy, mind. He’s not a regular patron of Space Bath and Bodyworks. So, yes, his hands are calloused, but fairly soft. Temperature-wise, he has poor circulation, so his hands can get rather cold. They’re warmer after use of the Force (generally), especially after he’s been doing some healing. … Or if he’s been holding hands with someone. You also won’t ever have to worry about getting scratched by his nails, but don’t ask him to undo tight knots for you unless you’re fine with him using the Force for it. He always keeps his nails trimmed very, very short. Making a fist with long nails, doing finger tip pushups, and working with tools or unsanitary situations - all things he has to do regularly - become much more of a chore, if not impossible, with long nails. He keeps them short for practicality, and, by the time he’s a teenager, he’s just used to keeping them short. If they get any longer than, say, a millimeter, it bothers him.

3. What does your muse usually eat in a day?

This also depends! Overall, he’s very health-conscious in order to keep up the physicality he needs to do his duty as a Jedi Guardian. Also, the Temple has plenty of easy access to healthy food, what with AgriCorps and their own interior gardens, as well as the off-world farms. Add to that, Braig’s training as a medic, so, as far as he’s concerned, he has no excuse for poor dietary habits. He does like sweets, but he also knows the importance of moderation. As long as he throws in some extra training to offset it, there’s no harm. He’ll usually have one biscuit or something for dessert, or at evening tea with his master. He also has the metabolism of a teenage boy (when he’s a teenager), and the metabolism of someone who works out at a high level every day. Kiddo eats a lot. He stands by the ‘full meal every three hours’ method, except when he’s asleep. He’ll snack between periods if he has time, too, though that depends on what he’s been doing and where he’s been doing it. The Temple has plenty of different eateries scattered about its interior, but it’s not so easy out in the field. For specifics:

In the field, he usually eats government-issued rations. They aren’t the most delicious thing, but they’re nutrient-dense, keep well, and easily portable, and that’s what matters. He tries not to complain about them. He knows they’re lucky to have food, especially among the refugee camps he often finds himself in. If they’re on the same mission and he has permission from the local government / population, Hano will go off hunting for food, and he usually shares it with Braig and any of the men who want it (though, depending on how many are with them, it often turns into a first come, first serve). If you take him to Dex’s, he’ll probably order the pot roast. It’s his favourite, and he’ll often say it’s the only thing that makes carrots taste good. (He’s never liked carrots. They’re one of the very few foods he won’t budge on.) If he’s at the Temple, it depends on what meal he’s eating, who he’s eating with, and what he’s just been doing or is about to do. The heaviest meal is usually the one he has before bed, because he doesn’t plan on working out. Lighter meals come earlier. He always tries to eat balanced meals, of course. In the mornings, before he even goes for breakfast, I like to think he and his master share a cup of tea. It’s part of their ritual. You need the traditions, sometimes, especially when the war makes everything else so unpredictable and chaotic. It’s also just a good way to wake up. He hates the taste of caf, after all, so tea is his pick-me-up of choice. Fruit is a common visitor on his breakfast plate. Refreshing taste and lots of natural sugars to get him going? Yes, please. He really likes citrus fruits, like oranges or grapefruit - the later especially with a touch of sugar - so those are common choices. Protein, too, whether it’s bacon, eggs (maybe an omelet), or sausage. Boy likes his meat. It doesn’t hurt that some of his close friends are carnivores, and, like most teenagers who are good friends and eat together as often as they can, they share food from time to time (being careful to mind what each others’ species can and can’t eat, of course). He might have a piece of toast or two, but he tries to keep carbs low during the early hours. He gets tired enough, he doesn’t need the incentive to power nap before he’s even started.

Lunch also varies. He tends to eat heavier foods when it’s cold, lighter foods when it’s hot. The Temple has all sorts of food, so he doesn’t really have a preference. All I will say is, if it’s safe for humans to eat, he’s probably tried it at least once. He does have a certain thing about some textures, though, so anything too slimy or squishy is a no to him (with fruit being the exception, given it’s supposed to feel that way). He also doesn’t like gritty foods, with no exception on that. It’s why, while he likes raspberry flavour, he probably won’t eat just plain raspberries. The seeds and hairs just don’t feel palatable to him. Once again, though, he tries to keep it healthy. He usually has at least a side of salad (or other greens), meat, some kind of starch… The good groups. Big glass of juice, too - lemonade and ground apple are favourites of his. He might also treat himself to a smoothie (or he saves it for dinner). Mango is his favourite, but he’ll also add in veggies, other fruits, vitamins/supplements, and yogurt… Again, kind of a health nut. Kiddo is in top shape. Has to be. If it’s a really hot day, he might have TWO smoothies, one at lunch and one at dinner. The hedonism knows no bounds.

Dinner is usually pretty similar to lunch for him. A heavier meal, maybe, to make up for the rest of the calories he’s burned that day and keep him satisfied through the night. He still makes sure to eat healthy, still stays hydrated, still shares food with his friends and gets food from them. As I said, he might have a smoothie if he feels like he earned one.

He doesn’t often have dessert in the ‘traditional’ sense. As I mentioned before, in spite of how much he enjoys sweet things he tries to limit his intake. He usually has fruit, maybe a small pastry if he thinks he worked it off. Everything in moderation, after all. He might make himself one last cup of tea before bed. (He also likes hot cocoa, but, come on. Tea is tradition.) He might have a treat with it, but nothing especially indulgent.

I think we’re just about done here, but I suppose I’ll put a quick note on snacks. Sometimes you just need on-the-go food, after all. As I said before, he really likes fruit. Usually pretty portable, doesn’t dehydrate him, tastes good (again, usually), and the Temple has agricultural gardens, so if he’s lucky, he can get it as fresh as possible, so. He also likes certain veggies for the same reason. Roasted kelp is a favourite of his - he actually prefers it to most other kinds of chips. He also really likes bell peppers. He’s eaten them like an apple before. He’ll do it again. Sometimes you just don’t have time to cut it up, you know?

As a final note: Yes, he likes ice cream, but he prefers gelato-esque frozen desserts, if he has one at all. If you’re a friend, he’ll share it with you.

4. Does your muse have a good singing voice?

Sort of? I mean, Booboo Stewart sings. He’s been in a band, a few musicals, all that jazz. So we know his voice works for it. I just don’t know how much Braig himself actually sings. I know he does, sometimes. Jedi are canonically taught different art styles. No, Braig didn’t really take to the musical theater classes or choir studies, but one of his best friends did. Lohata sings. She’s the best of all of their group at it. She also prefers not being the only one singing, barring certain circumstances, so the group joins in from time to time. Plus, the Jedi have their own culture. You can’t tell me they don’t have their own songs. And kids are kids, they’re gonna sing from time to time. I just don’t know if he does it regularly enough to really be especially good at it. Probably not? He’s not terrible, but. You can tell he’s only really doing it for fun, if you ever catch him doing it at all.

5. Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks?

Oh, you bet he does. The poor kid’s a mess of nerves because of the war. Naturally, that leaves him with some bad habits. The first one I’m going to talk about is his poor sleep schedule. He doesn’t mean to have such a spotty schedule. He knows he has to keep himself in the best condition possible for his work. But he’s also a teenager who’s fighting a war. The Clone Wars had a higher Jedi mortality rate than any other war in recent history even BEFORE Order 66. He’s seen and sensed and participated in a lot of horrific things. He’s just a teenager. That affects your development a lot. Long story short, nightmares are pretty common. Because of this, he stays up late, wakes up at different times, has trouble getting back to sleep, the whole thing. He has some coping methods for this, but there’s only so much he can do. He also has a bit of a martyr complex. ‘Too nice’, as some people have said. He was raised to believe a Jedi should help people, and that’s what he does. If you need a jacket, he’ll give you his. If you need food, he’ll share it with you. If both need treatment, he’ll ask the doctor to see you first. He’d rather be on the front lines than anyone else. Perhaps the best term is ‘self sacrificing’, though he sometimes takes it to extremes. Part of it is who he is, part of it is who he feels like he has to be. A Jedi always works for the greater good, regardless of what they need to sacrifice. A Jedi fights for those who cannot. He feels like he has to live up to those standards, especially now, during the war(s). On top of that, he feels like he has to live up to the standards of his master. Or, rather, the standards the galaxy holds his master to. He knows the Jedi are already put on a pedestal, even as they’re othered and reviled. He also knows that, even within the Order, his master is held in the highest regard. For those of you new to the blog, Braig ADORES his master. Rodi and I have been shaping their relationship for years, and there is literally nothing and nobody Braig loves more than Obidad. He’s always concerned that his behaviour during missions and lessons reflects on his master, as do his abilities. He feels like he has to ‘earn’ the right to be trained by Obi again and again and again (not because of anything space dad did; it’s more his own internalized issues). This diminishes a bit when he’s older, but it’s a present concern for many years. On top of that, he’s fighting a war. People are counting on him to give all that he can. He doesn’t feel he has a choice.

All of this also feeds into his own drive for perfection, the survivor’s guilt, and one of his other bad habits of pushing himself too hard, especially during training. Like I said, he holds himself to high standards. Like I said, he’s fighting a war. People are depending on him. If he makes mistakes, people die, the droids advance, land is lost, and who knows what else. He just can’t afford missteps. So, he trains. An old saying in martial art culture is ‘don’t train until you can do it right; train until you cannot do it wrong’, and that’s something he takes to heart. Upwards of five hours of his day at the temple is spent on lightsaber training alone as a padawan. Being idle just doesn’t sit right with him. He’ll push himself past exhaustion during training, and sometimes past injury on missions. He’s always been stubborn. This is just an extension of that.

He’s also a pretty trusting person - at least when he’s young - which doesn’t always work out in his favour. He just tries to see the best in people. The older he gets, the more he matures and the more the war beats that sort of youthful naivete out of him, but it was definitely a thing when he was a kid.

So, I think those are his biggest bad habits. He’s been described as ‘feeling too strongly’ by some people, but that’s mostly when he’s a teenager and he’s still dealing with hormones and being at war, so I think you can forgive that. It hasn’t caused any serious problems yet, at least. Speaking of ‘feeling too strongly’, let’s get on to nervous ticks! There are a few things he does if he’s stressed or uncomfortable. He fidgets. He’s never liked standing still - barring meditation or formal events, of course - and especially not when he feels uncomfortable. Call it ‘battle instincts’. Standing still on a battlefield gets you killed. He’s seen it happen. He’s nearly had it happen to himself. If he’s standing beside his master, the biggest sign of him feeling nervous or uncomfortable is gripping Obi’s sleeve. He usually chooses sleeve rather than hand because you never know when you’re going to need to draw a lightsaber, and he’d rather not get in the way of that. Sometimes, if space dad isn’t around, you might see him grabbing his own sleeve out of habit. He did this pretty frequently during the Hardeen and Tessk arcs, when they’d been apart for a while. Grabbing dad’s sleeve also lets whoever is better suited for it pull the other out of the way of danger a bit better, so, it’s multi-purpose. Another common sign that he’s nervous is if he puts his hands on his saber hilts. He might not draw them, or even take them off his belt, but he does put his hands on them. This is because of the reassurance they give him - both reminding him that he’s armed (beyond the use of the Force and his unarmed training) - and letting him feel the crystals resonating inside. Kyber crystals are matched with a Jedi’s individual presence and connection to the Force, so feeling the way they connect with him helps a lot when he’s nervous. Of course, there are some times when reaching for his weapons, even if it’s not a threat, is bad. In this case, he crosses his arms. That lets you know he wants to go for the sabers, but won’t for some reason. Or at least, won’t yet. He’s subject to change. He might also tense his jaw as a minor show of irritation. This is tied with a wrinkled nose or furrowed brow as the best sign that he’s annoyed.

If he’s nervous, but not in a fight-or-flight sense, he tugs on the end of his padawan braid, his scarf, or his sleeves. He likes the braid or scarf best, but he loses both of these eventually. He might also just adjust his clothing or brush his hair back to make himself look more put-together. Fake it til you make it, after all. He also shifts his weight, both to burn off excess energy and subtly be ready to move if he has to. He also might scuff his boot against the floor, but whether that’s also ‘adjusting his stance’ or just getting the energy out, I have no idea.

After he gets his scar, he scratches at it a lot. When it’s healing, after it’s healed, whatever. Part of it is because of the nerve damage; he can’t feel a thing under it. It’s strange to him, even on a subconscious level. It probably could be fixed with surgery. He just doesn’t see the point. He’ll pick at it when he’s idle, thoughtful, or feeling self-conscious. It drove the doctor they were with during the mission, Makula, crazy. The medical officers who came to rescue them - as well as some of the other men - also gave him grief for it. Kriss and Boone threatened to put him in a cone if he didn’t stop. (For the record, it did get a plastic covering, but it wasn’t a cone. Didn’t stop Braig from sulking any.)

6. What does your muse usually look like / wear?

Again, this depends on verses. In his verses with the Order, he does his best to look tidy and put-together. He knows he’s representing the entire Order, so he wants to make a good impression. He also knows he looks very young - perhaps younger than he is - and it can be hard to get people to take him seriously, so he thinks looking presentable will help with that. Outside of the Order, he does the opposite, and it’s deliberate. Being recognized as a Jedi is a death sentence. It hurts to hide what he is, but it’s a necessary survival tactic.

So, outfit breakdown (I’m actually drawing out his individual outfits for a reference post, so I’m not gonna go too ham here): As a Jedi, he wears mostly earth tones and other neutrals. Lots of browns, some tans. That sort of thing. The only real exception when he’s young is his red scarf. He loses it in the Gale’ mission, but before that, he’s almost never seen without it. Aside from that, he wears typical Jedi regalia. Simple tunics, comfortable, durable trousers. Loose enough for movement and tight enough to avoid getting in the way. Since Jedi tend to do their own clothing repairs, it’s all things that are fairly easy to mend, too. Durable leather boots and belts that are also pretty standard, with pouches on it to hold things. Bracers when he’s in the field with a commlink put in. A sash under the belt for tradition.

During the Gale mission, he sheds the outer layer and loses the scarf, too, both because of the heat and because they needed the extra fabric for improvised bandages. (There’s only so far Force Healing can take you when you’re already stressed and exhausted and there are multiple people in various states of poor health.) He never bothers to replace the scarf after that. Also during the mission, he temporarily - and with permission - adopts a couple points of local fashion. He wears a bag on foraging missions that’s made by the Gala’a Ieki Fahua, or the people of the golden plains. His Jedi-issue leather boots weren’t breathable enough for the hot, muggy climate of the forests they were mostly trekking through, so he ended up borrowing a pair of perforated leather boots. These, along with a set of leg wraps designed to help keep looser fabrics from getting caught on plantlife and to reduce drag, were the clothes he adopted from the Gala’a Fihiti Olo’mehukui, or the people of the Greater Fihiti Rainforest. He returned the wraps, boots, and bag to their rightful owners before he returned to Coruscant. The only bit of Gale fashion he took with him was a wooden hair bead given to him by Ta’ule right before he left, which Braig later wore on the top of his padawan braid as both a decoration and a symbol of his friendship with the Gale’an people.

As a senior padawan, his fashion is sort of a blend of his look during the Gale mission and typical Jedi attire. He keeps the sleeveless style (unless it’s cold, he hates the cold), as he finds the range of motion better. It’s not like the sleeves were protective, anyway. He still has a muted colour scheme, with lots of greys and browns, though his clothes are typically a bit darker. He also starts wearing a tabard and a second sash, which makes that part of his outfit a bit more traditional. Leather boots, still, strong and durable, though he makes sure the leather is softer than before to help allow for easier movement and quieter footwork. He also takes a note from the Gala’a Ahi Ahi Totokua (people of the Ahi Ahi floating mountains) in that he, too, has leather patches affixed to the sides of his pants to make break slides and controlled falling easier. He keeps his bracers, and wears gloves under them that cover his thumbs, but not his other fingers.

Jedi and Master Braig, in a world without the Purge, also has a slight outfit change. The only significant difference from his senior padawan and knight/master clothes is that he has sleeves now. His shirt is grey, except for the two brown stripes on his right shoulder. According to Jedi tradition, the stripes are an optional addition to a Jedi’s wardrobe that, with the colour and position Braig chose, indicate that the Jedi in question was born on Coruscant (other colours and placements exist for different planets, and this isn’t as popular a practice as it used to be, but he thought it was interesting). Still neutral colours, still very traditional, still comfortable. He does lean a bit more into greys and darker colours now, though this is mostly because it’s easier to keep them clean than light colours when you do a medic-slash-Guardian’s work. If he has a romantic partner, he might just wear a ring on a cord around his neck and say a friend just gifted it to him. Prove they didn’t. He’s got a lot of weird friends. The reason he doesn’t wear it on his hand is because he works with his hands way too much for it to be safe. He also usually wears a robe on field work. Again, he hates cold, but the combat applications of a robe often go overlooked. He fights dirty.

Rogue Braig does not dress traditionally. Once he starts venturing out into the galaxy again, his entire persona is crafted to avoid looking like a Jedi. The easiest lie to convince someone of is one they want to believe, and people want to believe that the Jedi are dead and gone. It hurts to conform to such an ideal, but it keeps him alive. Again, I’m gonna elaborate more on the specifics of this when I finish the reference sheet, but for a quick rundown, he goes for a typical ‘thug’ appearance. Nothing fancy or expensive. Jedi never dressed in expensive fashions, of course, but that’s what stereotypes tend to allude to. They compare the Temple to an ivory tower, and with the propaganda about the Order misappropriating their funding, rumors only grow. Nothing too flowy or robelike. Durable boots, pants with plenty of pockets. He keeps a vibroblade and blaster pistol strapped to his thighs and plainly visible. Very much not Jedi weapons, not Jedi behavior. It also makes people think those are the weapons he relies on, make the sabers he keeps hidden in the interior pockets of his jacket even less likely to be noticed. The jacket itself is beaten and old, nowhere near as pristine as his old clothes used to be, but it’s heavy, comfortable, durable, and serves its purpose. If it’s a timeline where he’s befriended Durga, he wears a necklace with the Besadii sigil - combine it with his general presentation, scars, and clothes, it helps drive home the ‘gangster’ appearance, which in turn not only makes him seem less Jedi-like, but also makes him less likely to be bothered. Most people are content to let the Hutts do their business in peace. The only other jewellery he wears is his padawan braid, cut off and made into a bracelet that he wears around his left wrist. It’s mostly hidden by his sleeve, but it wasn’t something he could easily leave behind.

Nobody really gets close enough for a good look, anyway.

7. Is your muse affectionate? How much? How so?

Oh, you bet he is. Cuddlebug bit this kid bad, and I blame his collection of grown-ups. Of course, there is a caveat to this: You have to be someone he trusts. No ifs ands or buts on that one. If he doesn’t feel safe around you, you don’t get cuddles. There are a few reasons for this. First off, he’s a Jedi. The Force can transmit emotions and even thoughts sometimes, so he has to keep shields up to keep that from happening. I personally headcanon that physical touch makes projecting a lot easier. That’s not something he wants to dump on just anyone. He also knows it’s not something just anyone wants dumped on them. Unless he trusts you enough to know that you know what you’re getting into and able to appropriately shield, and that you’re both comfortable with it, no Braig hugs for you. This is especially true on bad days for him. There’s a lot going on that he doesn’t necessarily want to share. Bad Day hugs, until he gets older and has better control, are usually limited to his favourite adults (mostly masters) if they initiate it. You ALSO have to be someone he’s comfortable letting his guard down around, ‘cause snuggling leaves you vulnerable. That’s not a conscious thought he has, but it does influence his actions. And last but not least, he has to be sure you would want his affection. Consent is a two way street.

HOWEVER, if you meet those criteria, he’s pretty damn cuddly. Exactly what he does depends on context and who it is. For example, with his master, affection is oddly normal for them. Again, he was spoiled. Hugs after bad missions, holding on to his master’s arm (as I mentioned in the ‘ticks’ bit) when he’s nervous, helping each other when injured, bed sharing when nights get bad (sometimes nightmares are rough and you need dad to feel safe), all that. Head pats are also appreciated. It’s a habit Braig carries on with his future students. They’re just kids, and, while they are expected to behave as a proper Jedi, there’s nothing in the Code that says he’s not allowed to scoop them up from time to time, now, is there?

He also really likes braiding hair. This is both something he picked up from his mentor, and something that’s just part of Jedi culture. They have to be able to maintain their padawan braids, after all. Like I said, it’s something he did with his master. Obi would brush and braid his hair for him sometimes, and it was always a pretty relaxing time for the both of them, good for chatting and catching up and forgetting the war for a few moments. On top of that, one of Braig’s closest friends, Naweh, liked braiding his hair as well. Naweh liked practicing, as she has no hair of her own and liked being able to help the younglings who DID when they asked. And, of course, A’Sharad would sometimes braid Braig’s hair while A’sh told him stories. All in all, it has really nice connotations for him, and helps him feel at home. At the same time, He’s very particular about his hair. If he lets you touch it, let alone braid it, consider yourself special. But again, this goes both ways. He’s pretty good at braiding after a lifetime of practice. If you have long hair and he wants to fuss over you, let him braid it. He enjoys it, and you’ll look pretty good by the end of it.

He also likes sitting in laps of people he feels safe with if they’re bigger than he is. Given that there are a lot of species bigger than humans - and a lot of humans bigger than Braig - this works wonderfully. Again, though, this is only reserved for his most favourite people. His mentor, when he’s younger; His best friend Hano; Liz’s Cody… Basically, his absolute favourites. His love interest, too, if they’re taller than him. He also does like holding hands with his favourites, too. If you see him in a conversation with his close friends, he’ll probably end up holding their hand at some point. It’s how he emphasizes agreement, but after that, he generally won’t let go until they do, or he needs his hands for something. If you’re his romantic partner, he’ll probably just play with your fingers/hands for as long as you let him. I’m not sure what his fixation is, he just likes them.

Also, headbutts! He’s kind of like a cat. Especially if you’re taller than him, he’ll bonk his head against your head/shoulder/back to show affection. He does this a lot with Liz’s Cody, and with his best friend Hano. Sometimes this is part of a hug, sometimes he just goes and baps you as he walks by. You get used to it.

We’ve spent a long time on physical affection, but I’ll put in one more note: Bed sharing. To Braig, bed sharing isn’t inherently romantic. It is something he will only do with his MOST trusted people, however. He doesn’t actually like sleeping alone. He can, of course, but he doesn’t like it. It’s another effect the war had on him. He just feels a lot safer if he has someone he trusts with him when he sleeps, even if they’re also asleep. (This is ALSO partly Obi-Dad’s fault, but at this point, what isn’t?) Anyway, you only really get to have a sleeping Braig near you if he absolutely, without a doubt, trusts you with his life. That’s in terms of loyalty, skill, courage, perception… Basically, if he trusts you to have his back in an ambush, AND on top of that he’s comfortable with you enough to be physical, and you’re comfortable with it, too, you get snuggles. Otherwise, none for you.

But there is more to affection than just physical touch! Another prime way Braig shows he cares is checking on your wellbeing. He asks how you are, sure, but he’ll also take note of things you need or often neglect about yourself. If he knows you forget to eat or dislike cooking, he’ll make you food. If he knows you don’t like people knowing you’re injured, he’ll offer to treat your injuries in private. He’ll offer to take watch shifts if you need rest, he’ll do his best to remember your favourite tea, and so on and so forth. He’ll do whatever he can to try to keep you happy, healthy, and looked after. As I mentioned above, when I say he’ll go out of his way for you, I mean he goes out of his way. That’s kind of a mix of nature and nurture, but also, he just likes knowing the people he loves are safe. It helps him feel more relaxed by proxy.

He might also be more open with you. If he trusts you with his honesty, his emotions, and especially his journal, you know you made it. He often feels, as a Jedi, that he can’t allow himself to be a ‘burden’ to others. If he lets you worry about him or fuss over him without dismissing it, that’s a way of him showing his affection. He trusts you enough to let himself be vulnerable.

He’ll also just want to spend time with you. This could mean sparring with you, inviting you to train with him, meditating together, doing chores together, reading together, exploring together, getting up to hijinks… Or maybe, just sitting in the same room as you, you do your thing, he does his, just existing together. Just being in each others’ presence and enjoying the peace and security of it all - there’s something very intimate about the whole thing, and he quite enjoys sharing it with the people he loves.

8. What position does your muse sleep in?

On his side. He always winds up lying on his side, even if he starts on his back or stomach. Always. He also, more often than not, ends up holding onto something while he snoozes. As usual, I blame his various adults for this. He got cuddled a lot as a baby, so he’s used to sleeping in a way that facilitates cuddling. This is also why he usually sleeps holding on to something. It could be a pillow, a stuffed toy, a romantic partner, a friend, or, in some cases, a folded-up robe that he left there because he knows he’s gonna grab onto it. He ends up on his right side more predominantly than his left. He also kicks - not a lot, but a little. He might mumble a bit in his sleep if he’s restless, but, yeah. He’s a clingy side sleeper. Especially later on in the war, and after the purge, he tries to sleep with his back to something solid and facing towards the main entrance point(s) of where he is whenever possible.

9. Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

This is a weird question. I mean, it really depends on the context? When he’s meditating, that’s a no. He’s pretty quiet during meditation, even moving meditation. Maybe you’d hear it if you startled him during floating meditation? Some breathing exercises are meant to be loud, so you could probably hear those. You won’t hear him if he’s sleeping. You might hear him if he’s training with sabers, since those make a decent amount of noise. Usually, he talks at a reasonable level, but I mean, again, context. Yeah, I dunno, there’s not much of an answer to this one. I tried.

#&& give the sun a head start; ooc #&& temple archives; headcanons #long post //#ask to tag

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evanstanhoney · 5 years

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Manners 🌹💋

a/n: so this is a repost from an older blog. it was once part of a bdsm-ish series i did and might bring here but idk. hope yall like it, it’s sort of.....a lot.

more of the series can be found here!

⚠️warnings: smut smut smut; dom!shawn; a little kinky.

word count: 4.8k

Anxious is the only way Shawn could describe his day. He was consumed with the thoughts of what would happen later that night and even though it was all his idea, that he brought all of this to your attention in the first place he knew he couldn’t back out now. Especially not with how excited you were, he was in too deep. And no matter how many times he’s tried to tell you otherwise, in your eyes Shawn was an expert on all things kink. He knew what he was doing, for the most part, sure, and he was confident in his abilities but he didn’t know everything. He’s never done this with you, and that's what had him anxious. He didn’t know how you would react to everything, you were so new to all of this, and knowing you were putting all your trust in him was a bit overwhelming. He was looking forward to the night, but the prospect that you’d change your mind about being with him once you realized what it was he was into, what he dragged you into, was terrifying.

Having a list in front of him of exactly what he could do was incredibly helpful. It at least gave him a starting point. Still, he didn’t know how much was too much for one night. So Shawn had set up the stoplight system. He’d drilled it into your head the last few days to make sure you understood its’ importance. He had also decided that tonight was going to be on the softer end of the spectrum. Rougher than usual of obviously, but focusing on some of the new verbal cues you said you’d liked the idea of. Shawn had accidentally let his voice slip into Dom mode a few times in the past, and seeing your reaction sent nearly sent him over the edge, but he was looking forward to your reaction to him once he let himself fully go there.

This was your first official night playing and he wanted to spoil you a little bit. You had opted out of having a play by play of the night's activities, and instead, Shawn gave you a brief overview, naming the few things from your list that he’d try to implement. That way you’d be prepared without completely taking out the spontaneity of it all.

After he closed down the cafe, Shawn went to pick up some food from one of your favorite takeout places and headed home. Before you arrived he tried to tidy up a bit. Tossing some laundry into the hamper that he’d been too lazy to actually put there. He knows you have seen his place in far worse condition but for some reason, he felt like he needs to impress you.

As you ate dinner he relaxed a bit, and the mood was light as usual. Chatting over take away containers and laughing at the TV in the background. But as you finished the mood shifted. The way Shawn held his shoulders back. His voice. Every movement he made seemed so much more deliberate. You couldn't help but notice, and you tried your best to maintain your composure.

You collected the takeaway containers and the plates you’d used, taking them to the kitchen. You were just finishing up washing the last plate when you felt Shawn’s hands gripping your hips pressing the two of you incredibly close your back to his chest. He places a few long slow kisses to your shoulder leading up to the base of your neck. You don’t know what to say. Your words were stuck.

“Hey.” you nearly moaned. You couldn’t help it, what with him pressed incredibly to your back, his breath fanning across your neck.

“Hi.” He places a kiss on the other shoulder and up your neck to the spot he knew you liked.

When you put the last plate on the drying rack, Shawn turns you around, lifting the hem of your shirt, rubbing soft circles into the soft skin of your hips. He looks at you for a moment, his eyes are intense, but he’s got that smug smirk on his face that you know all too well. That one that tells you he knows just how gone you are for him. Grabbing the back of your neck, and crashes your lips together. It’s a short kiss, but damn was it effective. It's only been three minutes and you were already putty in his hands.

“I want you to go to my room and change into the black lingerie set. Do you know where it is?” His voice was strong and assertive. It's that tone he’s always used on you but more. Everything from here on out was going to be more than usual, you realized.

“Yes.”

“Good. Change, and then wait for me. I’ll be there in a second. Okay?”

“Okay.” your voice was shaky at best but you give him a reassuring nod.

He gives you a quick kiss and sends you on your way. As you round the corner into Shawn’s bedroom you move to the closet. You don’t need to look hard to find the pink bag on the top shelf. Bringing it to the bed you remove the tissue paper and holds up the black lace. He showed it to you a few days ago and you couldn’t stop thinking about it since. It was beautiful, but you never would have picked it out for herself. You never thought you could wear anything like it. But knowing that Shawn had bought it with you in mind, and the way the lace-covered just enough made you feel incredibly sexy.

You come out of the tiny bathroom attached to his room and sit on the bed, adjusting yourself a few times to get comfortable. Should you pose? Act natural? You were overthinking it, you knew, so you just ended up sitting with your legs folded in the center of the bed.

A few moments later Shawn enters the room, closing the door behind him. He hits the light switch leaving only standing lamp in the corner to light the space. He turns, with the same intense look in his eyes, but you can see a hint of a smirk. He walks to the end of the bed, motioning you to come closer. You shimmy your way down the bed on your knees until you’re just about eye level. He brings his hand up, caressing your cheek with one hand and you lean into it.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice is still husky, but with a bit of worry behind it.

“I’m sure.” You’ve never been more sure about anything in your entire life and seeing Shawn like this. It was mesmerizing.

Shawn lets out a deep sigh like the world's been lifted off his shoulders with just those few words. “Remind me of the rules.”

“Use my words, nods don’t count. Stop you if I need anything. And no sassing.” You can’t help but smirk at the last one. There’s no way you were going to make it through the night without at least a little bit of sass. But you were also very much looking forward to seeing what would happen if you did break the rules.

“And your colors?”

“Green is I’m okay. Yellow means I need to talk to you about something, and red means stop.” It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes at him. He’d been giving you pop quizzes all week. You knew the importance of the safe words, you just don't see why you’d need them tonight. You weren’t doing anything extreme. More intense then what you’d been doing but nothing safeword worthy.

“Good girl”. Shawn whispers the words out against your lips, as he gives you a soft peck. It’s the first time he’d actually said it, and you actually shiver. You knew you’d like it, but hearing the words coming from Shawn's mouth now sounds so much better than you’d ever imagined.

He sits on the edge of the bed, he takes your hand and moves you to straddle his lap. You don’t lean in to kiss him, or reach up and thread your fingers through his curls like you normally would. Instead, you sat there, hands at your sides waiting for him to take the lead. You’re so pliant, hanging onto Shawn’s every word and he loves it.

He brings your face to his and kisses you. Really kisses you, like it’s the only way he can breathe. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and you start playing with his hair, giving it a few gentle tugs, urging him to give you more. More hands-on you, more attention to your breasts. Anything. He can sense you’re getting restless and pulls his lips away from hers and attaches them to your neck. To the one spot right below your ear, that you love so much and you can’t help the moan you let out. He nibbles there for a while, his large hands gripping and kneading your ass. You start moving your hips, grinding against him desperately. You can feel him getting hard in his sweats and you roll your hips harder. Just when you think you’re getting somewhere his hands are at your waist, bringing you to a stop. You look down at him in a frenzy.

“Be patient.” He growls, his brown eyes locked on yours.

You can feel how hard he is, but he doesn't do anything. He looks completely in control and focused. He runs a hand up your back slowly, his eyes dragging up and down your body. He’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. In any other circumstance you would feel a bit embarrassed, this kind of attention always seemed to make you feel a little uncomfortable. You preferred to fly under the radar, but now, you can’t get enough of the attention.

“Are you ready?” His voice brings you back for a second and you quickly nod, earning you a quick pinch to your nipple. It’s the little moan that you let out instead of a yelp, which surprises you the most. It felt….nice?

“Did we forget the rules already?” He teased, soothing the sensitive nub he’d just pinched. You already like this game.

“No.”

“Then let’s try it again. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” you stutter.

“Alright. On your stomach, across my lap.” Shawn adjusts himself slightly and gets you comfortable. He was nervous about spanking before, but now with you laid across his lap, your ass on full display he couldn't be more ready. He forces his eyes away and turns to look at you, your head turned, trying your best to look back at him.

“I'm going to start, now. I want you to keep count and tell me if it's too much, okay?”

“Okay.”

He takes a few moments, rubbing and squeezing each cheek. Just to get you used to the feeling of his hands on your ass in this context, and then without warning, he’s bringing it down for the first swat. It wasn’t hard by any means, but he put more force behind than he had when he’d playfully spanked you before.

The sound that it makes was music to Shawn's ears. It’s the little whimper that you lets out that brings his eyes back to her. “You okay?” He whispers soothing the sting.

“Yeah.” It didn’t hurt, you just weren’t expecting it. An aspect you felt like you shouldn’t enjoy half as much as you did.

Just as Shawn was about to give you a warning, you whimper out a quick “One.”

The next two come quick and fast, Shawn alternating cheeks and soothing them after each one. He was so focused on what his hands were doing he almost missed the desperate whisper on the side of him.

“What was that, baby?”

“More…please” your voice was soft and sweet, and suddenly Shawn was ready to finish this as quickly as he could so he could have his mouth on you again. But he couldn’t, he needed to see this through. He quickly pulled himself together, softly running his nails down your back leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“More what baby girl?” you're not sure why the pet name suddenly made your stomach do somersaults but it did and you decided you could never get tired of hearing it.

“Umm- harder. Please?” Well fuck. How was Shawn meant to get through the rest of the scene with you taking everything he’s dishing out. And still, asking for more?

“Harder, huh?”

“Yes, please.”

He shimmed the black lace down, to rest just under your ass. He took a few seconds rubbing before giving you one good hit. It was the hardest one he’d given and was anxious as soon as his hand made contact, but the moan You let out was all the reassurance he needed.

“Four.”

Shawn went back to soothing the last hit like he’d been doing and for some reason, you let out the smallest giggle into the mattress. A small part of you felt like you shouldn’t be enjoying this. You should feel humiliated, laid out on your boyfriends' lap, while he made you count every time he slaps your ass. But it felt so good and damn was it fun.

“Something funny?” There wasn’t the smallest hint of a smile in his voice and it only made you smile into your arm more.

“No.” you purred, trying your best to get a look at him over your shoulder.

Shawn doesn't say anything, just turning back to his work on your ass. Then you feel Shawn’s hands move farther down and between your legs and your breath hitches.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying themselves.” He drags a finger up and down your folds, feeling your wetness. Slowly he dips a finger inside, curling it slightly softly stroking at your spot, making you let out a breathy moan.

“That feel good?”

“Mmhmm.” You hum, nodding your head.

“Do you want more?” He asks his finger slowing down.

“Yes, please.”

As soon as the words leave your lips, he picks up the pace with his finger, eventually adding in a second. Given the circumstances, it takes almost no time for you to feel the beginning waves of an orgasm, and as quickly as you recognize it, Shawn’s pulled out his fingers. You let out an annoyed huff, ready to give him a piece of your mind for teasing you when you’re stopped by two hards spanks to your ass. You quickly give him a count, before pushing your ass back up in the air hoping he’d give you his fingers again.

It seemed to work. He spent half the time massaging your ass this time before taping on your inner thigh signaling you to open your legs a little wider for him. After running his fingers up and down your folds a few times, Shawn dips two fingers inside. He moved them in and out, almost robotically, before finally curving them down just the right amount to get at your G-spot. You will never get over how good Shawn is with his fingers. He knew it was your favorite, other than having him inside you of course. But it was a sure-fire way to get you to come quick. A fact he took full advantage of. Often.

He kept his fingers hooked and before you knew it you could feel that coil in your lower stomach tightens. You were right there. Then his fingers were gone, and in its place was a good sting to your right cheek.

“Shawn!” you wine, earning you another hard swat. “Ow! Eight.”

“Color?” he moves quickly to soothe your cheek this time, nervous he’d actually hit too hard.

“Green.” you groan into the mattress. It was a shock to the system, but it didn’t hurt. You were more annoyed than in any actual pain.

He pulled you up so you were straddling his lap again. He put the fingers that had been in you to his lips sucking them clean, look you right in the eye. It was absolutely obscene and you were so turned on. Mad as hell he wouldn’t let you finish, but incredibly turned on.

“What did we agree on, baby?” He placed a possessive hand on the back of your neck, forcing your eyes to his. What the hell was he talking about? You had remembered your colors, you kept your manners, giving him only verbal responses, you were keeping count. And then you remember.

“I’d tell you when I’m close.” you huff. Frustrated doesn't even begin to cover it. At yourself, for not remembering something...essential. But mainly at Shawn because he could just pretend you did and let you fucking finish. But nope, he.

“And have you been telling me?”

“No.” you pout. No matter how annoyed and frustrated you were with him, the look in his eyes and that tone, had you wrapped around his finger.

God, his fingers.

“I’ve given you a pass so far, but next time you don't tell me, I’m adding five more. Understood?”

“Yes.” You whisper, voice cracking a bit and your eyes cast down.

“Color, baby?”

“I’m Green,” you mumble, through a pout, and Shawn finds it so adorable he wants to kiss it, but he can’t now. He has to enforce the rules. And you liked the idea, that was the point of all of this. That doesn't mean you couldn’t still be pouty about having rules now. He adjusts you back across his lap and begins to massage your ass again.

“Only a few two, you ready.”

Forgetting already, you give him a nod, and Shawn gives an extra hard squeeze.

“Baby?” he warns, squeezing the cheek in his hands and a little harder.

“I’m ready.”

The last two are quick and hard, but nothing you couldn’t handle. As soon as he finished the last one he’s pulling you up, having you sit on his lap. He brings his hand up caressing your cheek, looking you over.

“You did good baby.” He brings you down for a quick peck, and the noise you let out is somewhere between a moan and a whine. And you grind down against him, and he doesn’t stop you this time.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” you purr, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Good.” He runs his hand down your front dipping into the front of your panties. Resting right on your clit. He gives no indication he intends to move just resting it there watching you try to keep your hips still. You lean forward nuzzling into his neck, letting out something between a moan and whine. A plea for him to give you something, anything to take the edge off. You were beyond desperate. He had denied you twice already, and you just wanted one orgasm, just a tiny one.

“Do you need something?” he chuckled, giving a kiss to your shoulder.

“Fingers. I want your fingers,” you whisper but he still didn’t move.

“You want my fingers?....” He prompted, pulling your face from his neck.

“Please. I want your fingers, please.” you groaned. He was sticking to the rules, and you liked it. You agreed to them for a reason, but how were you supposed to remember all of them with Shawn teasing you like this.

When Shawn got what he wanted, his hand was on your clit, going in nice smooth circles. The other arm securely around your waist keeping you close. You threw your arms around his shoulders nuzzling yourself back into his neck as he worked you with his fingers.

The coil in your stomach was getting tight again and for a moment you thought about not telling him. You wanted to see if you could get away with it, even though you knew you never could.

“I'm going to..” you whimpered, reluctantly and as his hand stopped you let out a breath you’d been holding. You lift your head from his neck to see him pulling his fingers from panties, licking them clean again.

“Good girl. That wasn't so hard was it?”

“No.” The longer this went on the softer your voice got. You could feel yourself getting hazy. Slipping into a place that was warm and had your whole body tingling.

His grip around your waist got tighter as he lifted them both up and moved them up the bed. He flipped you over resting your head on one of the pillows, his lips immediately latching onto your neck. Your hands grab at him greedily, pulling him as close as you could. You give a few tugs to his hair and he moans into your neck. He’s never explicitly said it’s something he likes, but You take note of it nonetheless. He pulls away grabbing both your hands in one of his large ones, pinning them above your head.

“Keep these here.”

“Okay.”

He placed a few more kisses on your neck, before placing pecks down your body. He kissed along your lower stomach just above the black lace. He plants a few kisses to your clit through the thin material before finally ridding you of them. He nibbles at your inner thighs, taking his sweet time and it takes everything in you to stay still. You did roll your hips up, the smallest bit and Shawn got the hint.

He didn’t take his time, going right in, finally giving you what’d she’d been waiting on all night. His fingers and his mouth were some of your favorite things. And without even thinking you brought your hands down to grab at his hair, to give it a tug. Shawn moaned into you, loving the feeling, almost forgetting his own rule.

“What did I say, baby?” He stops looking up at from between your legs and it’s an amazing view. You don’t enjoy it long before he's pulled himself away from you, leaving feather-light kisses back up your body to your neck.

“No.” you whine, and then you suddenly remember your rules, throwing your arms above your head, Shawn holding both of your writs in one of his large hands. “I’m, sorry please don’t -”

“What did I say?”

“To keep my arms up.” The words are rushed and you can't even recognize your own voice anymore.

You just want his mouth back on you, immediately. All you can focus on is how good Shawn’s mouth feels on you, and his firm his grip on your hips as he pins you to the mattress, keeping you still.

“That’s right. I don’t want to tie them up but I will if you do it again. Understand?”

In all honesty, you very much would like for him to tie you up. But you also have this deep desire to follow what he says, and if he says to keep them there without restraints then she’d do it.

“Yes”

“Good.” He attaches his lips to your neck, nibbling for a moment, making his way back down your body.

He goes back to work, licking and sucking with a bit of nibbling, and in no time you were a mumbling mess. It’s when he pushes in two fingers, hooking them up just right that you start to feel that coil begins to tighten again. It’s all you could focus on, and you couldn’t wait anymore.

“Shawn can I - can I come, please!” you're not sure why you asked permission, it’s not something you discussed before. But it felt right and Shawn didn’t miss a beat.

“You can come.” It was like that was all you needed the whole night. Was just for him to say those words.

You didn’t keep your hands up, gripping at his hair instead, but Shawn didn't scold you about it. He licked you through it until you were pushing him away to let up. He still gave you a few more licks and a peck to your clit, before working his way up your body with kisses. He gives your nipples a little extra attention before nuzzling your neck. He stayed there for a second, leaving soft kisses to your neck before taking a look at you. You blink up lazily at him with the softest smile on your face. Your whole body is buzzing and the only thing you can feel is Shawn pressed against you.

“You make the most adorable sounds when you cum, you know that?” His voice was soft, almost back to normal. Were you done already? You couldn't be done?

His hand came up caressing your cheek, placing kisses all over your face and you leaned into it. Your eyes were a little glossy, but not as bad as he’s seen them before. You weren’t hazy but he could tell you were teetering. He figured that with the spanking there was a possibility but he wasn’t all that worried about it. Still, he sat you up and held you close. You looked up returning his smile.

“You alright?”

“Perfect.” You say through a yawn. Shawn placed a few kisses to your hair and then it dawned on her. You leaned up placing a kiss to his lips slowly sliding your hand down his chest to his rest on his cock straining against his sweats, but he stops you.

“But you-”

“I'm fine. I’ll take care of myself.” He placed a kiss to your forehead and brought your back to his chest. Tonight was meant to be about you. It was in the plans to have sex and he thought about it but the spanking took more out of you then he’d expected. And the teasing was new. You just look exhausted with the day she’d had on top of it. He just wanted you to get some sleep.

He leans over to the little table near his bed. You don’t at all remember him bringing in anything with him, earlier but he comes up with a bottle of water and a granola bar.

“Drink this, and take some nibbles off that.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“Honey. Please.” It's not the same Dom Shawn voice he’d been using but it’s rough enough to get you to take the bottled water from his hand.

“Shower or bath?” He asks, a mouthful of his own granola bar.

“Shower.” you were far too tired and just wanted to get clean and lay in bed.

He tapped on your arm a little signaling you to lean up so he could go and start the shower up for you. Once you finished your granola bar, you headed to the shower, making sure to get in an out as quick as you could. You changed into one of your favorite shirts of Shawns. As you got comfortable in bed, Shawn was just coming out of the bathroom, in nothing but his boxers, drying his hair with a towel. He moved the covers back, moving as close to you as he could, bring your back to his chest. Leaving some pecks to the back of your neck.

“How was tonight. For you?” His words were slow as he mumbled them into your neck

“It was fun. I liked it.”

“Everything? Or just parts?” You shifted around on the bed so you were facing him.

“No, I liked everything. I liked the nickname. I really like that.” you weren’t shy like you usually were. Maybe it was because you were still on cloud nine or maybe you were actually getting comfortable with everything.

“I figured as much.” He chuckled giving you a cocky smirk.

“And even though I was annoyed, I liked you teasing me. I always do, but this way it's different and - I don’t know I liked it.”

“Good.”

“What about you?” It goes both ways. He’s told you that a thousand times, and you needed to know he liked everything as much as you did.

“I had fun. You’re very…. I don’t know. You listen really well, and I like that. I like you trusting me in that way.” It was the best way he could describe it. Truthfully no words could describe how he felt when you looked at him when you’d played. He just knew that it could quickly become one of his favorite things.

“Good.” you give his nose a little peck and turned back around bringing his arm around your waist.

The room was quiet for a while, and Shawn was on the nearly asleep when he heard the lowest whisper.

“Hey, Shawn.” All you got in response was a tired ‘hmm’ “Next time. Can we - can you use something other than your hand?”

Shawn cracks one eye open, suddenly wide awake, and flashes you a smirk, “That can definitely be arranged.”

masterlist // tell me what you think? // requests? // wattpad // ao3

#my writing #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes prompts #shawn mendes concepts #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes aus #dom!shawn #kinky!shawn #shawn mendes smut

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peachyblkdemonslayer · 3 years

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So heres my secret Santa gift for the lovely @chocoboba on here!! I hope that I did you justice with this piece.

When they first moved to Japan Pj was as sacred as any kid would be. They moved to not just a new place, it was a whole new country!! If they moved somewhere else in the states they could have handled that. Sure it's still somewhere they wouldn't be familiar with but it would still have some sense of familiarity. The movers had just put the last of the family's things into the house, the warm humid summer day made their clothing feel like it was sticking onto them. The kids in the neighborhood looked at them as they played, noone making an effort to engage with them. Head in their knees they didn't see a blonde haired boy with a lighting bolt in his hair jogging up to them.

"Hey what's your name?" He yelled. Pj jumped up in surprise at the sudden noise. Their eyes scanned the boy in front of them and titled their head. He was around the same height as them, the thing that stuck out the most about him was his bright golden eyes. The smile that plastered their face was just bursting with energy it seemed as he had a bit of a bounce to his step.

"Uh my name is Pj" they answered in a soft spoken tone.

"Oohh~ That's a cool name well my name is Kaminari Denki, I see your new here and I wanted to see if you wanted to play with me and my friends" he pointed to a couple of other kids that were kicking around a ball. Pj noticed one of them had horns and pink skin the other had super knobby elbows.

"Uh um I'll have to ask my mama first"

"Ok I'll just wait out here for you to do that!" They nodded to the boy and went into the house to ask the older woman. When they were given a yes Pj returned to the outside with a smile and a nod of the head. Denki gave a million dollar smile and grabbed Pj hand as he pulled them to the duo.

That was the first time Pj had that funny feeling in their chest.

Middle school had brought up a new list of problems for the teen. Powers going off the rail from time to time. Emotions all over the place among other things from Pj end. The constant overheating themself from using their powers was not only starting to cause problems but it was also starting to get on their nerves.

They were in the nurse office with cooling pads covering their body eyes close as they listened to the clock ticking as time went by. The door opened as they heard footsteps come closer to them, turning their head even though they couldn't see who it was.

"Hey Nurse how long till I can go back to class?" They asked. A slight feeling of concern raised in their chest as a chair was pulled up on the side of them.

"Well I dont think your in any condition to be doing anything related to training with your quirk after that stunt you pulled" Kaminari voice filled their ears. They rolled their eyes, though he couldn't see it but relaxed back into the cotton sheets of the bed.

"What cause that little accident in class today anyways?" They could hear the chair that he was sitting in squeaking, Pj had to guess that maybe he was leaning onto the two back legs of the chair.

"I was just annoyed today and it backfired on me is all, dont worry to much about it Sparky" Pj replied. Kaminari hummed in understanding as they sat silent in the nurse room. Pj felt a warm hand grab their's and rubbed a thumb over the back of it.

Pj smiled a bit bigger that day.

"You want to start dating?"

Ice tea went down their throat wrong and up their nose at the question. As Pj coughs and spills their drink all over themself Kaminari, the asshole, laughs loud enough to catch the attention of a few people around them at the cafe. They had a free Sunday and wanted to catch up a bit since school along with family life made it damn near impossible to do so on a good day

"Ah you piece of shit! Why would you ask me something like that while I'm drinking??" They yelled at him. The blonde boy raises an eyebrow at them a smirk plastered onto his pretty brown face.

"Oh the all so great Pj startled at what I said? Wow I must have passed that math exam that we just took for that to happen huh?" He leaned closer to the table, chin sitting in his hands. Pj sighed and rolled their eyes as a warm feeling covered their cheeks and they nervously tugged at their necklace.

"I mean- I was just surprised that's all"

"That's all?"

They bit this lower lips, "Yeah that's all, I had assumed you and Jirou were a thing from how yall always be acting in class"

Kaminari blinked a few times before covering his mouth to snort a bit. He laughed and laughed as if Pj just told him the funniest joke ever, they sat up more in their seat.

"What's so funny?" They asked him in a high pitched tone of embarrassment.

"Wow you're a riot! Pj me and Jirou aren't a thing, though she is cute as hell but alas she has her eye in someone else. Plus I've been wanting to gather the courage to tell you for a long time" he spoke softly playing with the straw in his drink. Pj fiddled with their thumbs as the noises around filled the silence that came between the two of them.

"Well um anyways- I still need an answer to that question ya know" Pj looked at him as he looked away frrom them. He had his hair in a low ponytail, a few strands of hair escaped from it and covers his forehead a bit. Pj loved when he wore his hair like that.

"I dont usually accept dates from people who makes me spit up my drink. But for blondes I'll make an exception" Pj smirked at him.

Kaminari eyes lit up as a smile took over his face.

"So~"

"Take me to the movies and a dinner and we'll go from there yeah?" They smiled straw resting on their lips as Kaminari face became a bit flustered from the action.

"Man Pj you'll be the death of me"

Pj giggled and leaned onto their hand and smiled, "Well what a wonderful way to die then huh?"

#pocuties secert santa #my writing #bnha #kaminari denki

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xserpentlife · 4 years

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50 questions tag !

Tagged by no one but I saw @romanticgumchewer do it and thought it was cool so

1.) What color is your hairbrush?

so like i have bout 5 probably but now i only use one in the shower ad its this turqiouse bue color cause ya’ll if you got frizz or curls dont brush ya hair really at all just use ya fingers but also do it with conditioner and in the shower

2.) Name a food you never eat

freaking seafood eh blegh

3.) Are you usually too warm or too cold?

warm. all. the. time.

4.) What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

uhm swimming... no dinner and smelling disgusting seafood that made me wanna barf cause thsts whst my aunt/uncle and grandparents were making for dinner

5.) What’s your favorite candy bar?

oo idk uhm crunch noooo a flake bar they are from europe no like ireland i think so fucking good lemme tell you

6.) Have you ever been to a professional sports game?

yeah. Eagles, flyers, and phillies, and the reading phillies if you count them, oh and the 76ers and some college gsmes i think that is it

7.) What’s the last thing you said out loud?

nope i don’t want a smore

8.) What’s your favorite ice cream?

yall i got so many lemme get you on this shit. okay so ben and jerrys we talkin then its gottabe phish phood oj shit, but like all in al my fav is black raspberry tbh but also like i do keto so i do love me some coffee ice cream cause i can usually find that in “keto” ones. i like keto enlightened ice cream bars they are decent and low carb

9.) What was the last thing you had to drink?

crystal light or it may have been turkey hill diet green tea

10.) Do you like your wallet?

i mean yeah its a black michael kors it does it purpose lol, mostly i like it cause it has a lot of space for cards which like all my gift cards go there the only thing i don’t like is that the bitch gets hela heavy when coins get in it like jesus

11.) What’s the last thing you ate?

ham and cheese roll ups for diner cause they had fuckin seafood lol boutta be carots, but also wasn’t that hungry lol

12.) Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

nope!

13.) What’s the last sporting event you watched?

i believe that it was UFC

14.) What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

butter or white cheddar

15.) Who’s the last person you sent a text to?

my best friends so my friend from vegas and @wayward-river

16.) Ever go camping?

yep!

17.) Do you take vitamins?

i take a probiotic

18.) Do you go to church every Sunday?

nope

19.) Do you have a tan?

yupppp

20.) Do you prefer Chinese or pizza?

oooo uhm depends on what type of piza but ima say pizza... i have a cheese addiction

21.) Do you drink soda through a straw?

i don’t drink soda anymore

22.) What color socks do you usually wear?

vans socks in literally any color usually not black i try to get colored ones cause if i get the black i can never tell te old from the new unless they are like streched out or somethin

23.) Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

uhm yes lol. its my downfall but also like either go the speed limit or go 5 miles over do not go under becuase that is just not an option

24.) What terrifies you?

many things.

25.) Look to your left, what to you see?

flowers

26.) What chore do you hate the most?

vacuuming the sound drives me nuts. or no putting away laundry like hanging it up idk why i hate it but i do lik ill wash shit and fold it but actuly putting it way drives me nuts

27.) What do you think when you hear an Australian accent?

uhm hiiii but also adelaide idk why

28.) What’s your favorite soda?

dont drink it i drink ice drinks instead or the safeway brand sparkling water

29.) Do you go in fast food or in the drive through?

drive through

30.) What’s your favorite number?

31.) Who’s the last person you talked to?

in person? my little cousin

32.) Favorite cut of beef?

chicken just so many things can be done. chicken parm, grilled chicken, bbq chicken need i go on

33.) Last song you listened to?

welp i checked spotfy we were at the pool and it was me and my little cousin i was playing ehr playlist so it was did i mention from descendants hahah

34.) Last book you read?

oh god uhm i have no idea

35.) Can you say the alphabet backwards?

no unless i go throguh the whole thing letter...... by.... letter

36.) Favorite day of the week?

thursday

37.) How do you like your coffee?

Iced with heavy cream i prefer cold brew or espresso tho, but usually cold brew

38.) Favorite pair of shoes?

Vans

39.) Time you normally wake up?

10- 10:30 sometimes 9

40.) Sunrise or sunsets?

sunsets

41.) How many blankets on your bed?

usually just my comforter sometimes my comforter and one or two otehrs dring the winter cause i like to be cold and keep my window open i keep my bedroom door closed and the heat in my room off

42.) Describe your kitchen plates?

i live with my aprents im still in college but when im at school rndoms hit that is cheap

43.) Describe your kitchen at the moment?

tiny dorm kitchen or it will be first on campus apartment that looks like an insane asylum checkkkkkkk

44.) Do you have a favorite alcoholic drink?

i mean its not legal to sayyyyy

45.) Do you play cards?

yes omggggg my grandma s from the south i grew up on card games 500 rummy, oh hell too, i played poker with my grandpa to and 21

46.) What color is your car?

dark blue... kiki

47.) Can you change a tire?

yeppp!

48.) Your favorite state, province, country, etc.?

uhm idk i live in pennsylvania but I wouldn’t say i have a favorite state at least not yet

49.) Favorite job you’ve had?

I worked at this axe throwing place and honestly it was my favorite job i had. I was an axe master I basicaly taght people how to throw axes and like led mini games for hour long sessions it was hella fun, but my college scheldue and doctors appt got in the way so i got let go but it was fun while it lasted. or my own business i do photography on the side so that is also amazing and i absolutely love it and ned to do more of it.

50.) How did you get your biggest scar?

oh god i don’t even know.. i have huge scards from my chronic skin condition so either that orrrr maybe the scar on my leg it is not that big though like size of a nickel where a kick stand went into my leg, a lot of my scars are smaller or like blend into my skin fairly ell cause of my other scars or honestly i forget about them cause. i hae so many so i realy am not sure.

i tag @wayward-river @the-gargoyle-queen @whenallsaidanddone @riverdalebingo @theangriestpea @southsidevixen-blog

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slutforalistairtheirin · 5 years

Text

The Proud and the Prejudiced. (Logince)

Inspired by: https://mayflowers07.tumblr.com/post/186222058356/yall-wanna-hear-an-angsty-prompt-i-just-came-up

Roman

It feels good to be able to push my parents out of my head for today. A lot of people my age hate school. For me, it’s probably the only place I can be myself. People accept and love me for who I am. Hell, this school even has an annual pride fest. We hold it on the football field. We get to carry flags and paint our faces. It’s really awesome, honestly.

Every year, my friend Grace drags me around to each event. I preferred to spend my time eyeballing the football players, but that raging lesbian does not understand. Her exact words are always: “Jocks aren’t even your type, Roman. You’re into the nerds.” I always shake my head and pout in response. She doesn’t have to be so right all the time.

Today, she immediately dragged me to the face painting booth. She goes first, so I have time to really soak in the event. As I look around, I notice Logan- the guy I’ve had a crush on since seventh grade- who also happens to be the yearbook’s event photographer- taking pictures. He looks absolutely breathtaking today. The fancy camera hanging around his neck, his slender hands adjusting his glasses, the gentle breeze blowing through those soft, brown locks of hair- OH SHIT HE’S COMING OVER HERE.

My thoughts were immediately interrupted when he walked over to ask if he could take a picture of Grace’s face paint. She happily accepts.

“My only condition is that Roman is in the picture too.” She shoots a subtle wink at me, seeing my face turn pink.

“Oh- um- okay-” I don’t really have time to consider it. Logan smiles and nods, Grace grabs my arm and yanks me over to her, and Logan snaps the picture.

Throughout the rest of the festival, I can only think about Logan’s smile.

I get home after school and quickly run to the bathroom. My parents aren’t home yet, so I have time to wash off all the glitter and face paint. I splash cold water on my face and rub until my skin turns red. After, I go to my room and tuck my rainbow flag, socks, and sunglasses under my bed. Just in time, too.

I hear the front door slam and my dad’s work boots stomp in. He’s yelling about something. My mom’s heels click softly on the hardwood floor, barely audible over his shouts.

“They have NO BUSINESS subjecting our Lord and Savior to displays of perverse “affection” to the same sex! It’s blasphemous! It’s wrong! Those parents have failed. Entertaining the idea that it’s okay? Those kids need to be taken away from them and given a proper beating.”

I bite my lip. I should be used to this by now. I hear his boots clomping down the hall towards my room, so I quickly shut off the lights and pretend to be asleep. There’s no way in hell I can deal with this today. He swings the door open and I flinch, squeezing my eyes shut and facing away from him.

“Oh.” He mutters. “Long day I suppose. I’ll wake you up for dinner.” He shuts the door behind him.

It really was a long day. After a few minutes, I drift off into a light sleep.

‘You disgust me, do you hear? You disgrace our family and you’re breaking your mother’s heart! GET OUT!’

My body shakes and tears spill down my face.

‘You’re my dad! You’re supposed to love me no matter what!’ I shout back at him.

‘I don’t have a son anymore.’ He says, an ice cold tone lacing his voice. He raises his hand and-

“Roman, sweetie! Time for dinner!” My mom knocks on the door. I sit straight up and bed and try to level my breathing. I wipe the tears from my face and send Virgil a text. Besides Grace, Virgil is my best friend. He knows how to calm me down because he suffers from severe anxiety, too. The only difference is that his dad is accepting.

Emoxx: Hey princey, what’s up?

Royal Pain: Bad dream. You know the one.

Emoxx: Oh baby I’m sorry, do you need to call?

Royal Pain: Can’t, dinner. I just need to calm down.

Emoxx: Okay, what do you need from me?

Royal Pain: Can you come over tonight? It’s a Friday, my parents won’t care.

Emoxx: Sure thing, love. I’ll be there in an hour. We can eat junk food and talk about boys. <3

I smile and shut my phone off. Virgil always knows how to make things better. I get off my bed and go to my kitchen, where my parents are waiting. My mom smiles when she sees me and my dad barely acknowledges me. Sometimes I wonder if my dad weren’t in the picture, if my mom would be accepting. Maybe she’s just scared of him. I guess I’ll never know.

“Hey mijo, how was school? You seemed real tuckered out. Long day?” Mom asks. She could do so much better than my dad. I mean, my mom looks like she came straight out of a fairytale. Smooth olive skin, perfectly wavy, chestnut colored hair, gorgeous brown eyes. I don’t know how he won her over.

“Yeah, mama. Lots of tests.” My memory flicks back to Logan taking the picture of Gracie and I. Lots of tests indeed. My dad doesn’t like when my mom and I speak Spanish, so we stopped trying to avoid his daunting stare. Sometimes, she manages to sneak little words in there and blames it on habit. I still don’t understand why she married him. “Oh, Virgil is coming over tonight. I hope that’s okay.”

“Virgil! Oh save him some chicken, amor, he’s so skinny.” My mom says, already standing up to put some in the microwave for him.

“Virgil, huh. Is that the little emo kid? Are you sure he’s not a homo? He seems a little fruity to me.” He always finds the best ways to ruin my mood. “Dad, that’s kind of rude.” I say, before I can stop myself. Thankfully, I find a way to save it before I get yelled at. “I mean. it’s rude to insinuate that I would be friends with someone.. of that orientation.” The words sting to say, the feel like poison in my throat.

My dad nods. “Good.”

I don’t really have an appetite, so I nibble on a few things and then I put my plate in the microwave with the one my mom made for Virgil.

“I’m gonna... go clean up my room a bit before Virgil gets here.” My room is actually perfectly tidy, but I don’t want to be in the same room as the devil himself anymore.

As soon as I get back to my room, I lay down and think about the good memories of today. I think about Logan. I think about how cute he looks with that camera. I think about all the good pictures from today. I think about how they’ll be posted on the school instagram.

Wait a second.

They’ll be posted on the school instagram.

The one that my parents follow.

The one that my dad follows.

There’s no way they can see the pictures of me. Dad might actually kill me. Like, he will tear me limb from limb and put my head on a fence post outside. I start to panic. I can’t breath, I can’t think, I barely even notice when Virgil opens my bedroom door.

“Woah, Roman, breath.” Virgil kneels beside the bed, forcing me to look at him. He takes my hands and breathes with me. “Everything is okay, everything will be okay. You just have to breath.” Once my breathing slows down, he sits on the bed beside me, still holding one of my hands. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

I tell him everything. I tell him all about today, about Logan, about the pictures, about the instagram, about my dad, and about my dream. He nods and listens the whole time. He also cracks a smile when I tell him what my dad said about him.

“What if we just message the school’s instagram? I’m sure they won’t post them if we explain why.” Virgil offers a suggestion.

“If they haven’t posted them already, that might work.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and open instagram. I start typing out a message to the school’s account.

RomanPrincexo: Hi, sorry to bother, but I was at the pride fest today and I just thought that there might have been some pictures taken of me. I was hoping to ask that you don’t post them. My parents are raging homophobes and I could be in very big trouble if they saw.

LincolnHighOfficialInsta: Hey Roman! Thank you for voicing your concerns. Any pictures that might have you in them will not be posted. Your safety is of utmost importance.

RomanPrincexo: Thank you <3. You have no idea how much that means to me.

LincolnHighOfficialInsta: It’s no problem. I’m sorry about your parents, that really sucks.

RomanPrincexo: Oh, I’m used to it.

LincolnHighOfficialInsta: You shouldn’t have to be. You’re a great person, you don’t deserve the way that.

RomanPrincexo: Thank you, but if it wasn’t me, it would be someone else.

LincolnHighOfficialInsta: No one deserves that. Just know that you’re loved.

“Hey Virge?”

“Yeah?”

“Who runs the school instagram?”

Virgil wrinkles his nose. “I’m not sure. It’s rumored that it could be Mr. Sanders, the drama teacher. Or Logan. Or possibly Valerie. No one is for sure, though. Why?”

I show Virgil the messages and a look appears on his face. I can’t quite place my finger on it before he takes out his phone and starts typing. His poker face is terrible, so when he grins that mischievous little grin of his, I know immediately that he’s up to something. I try to look at what he’s doing but he sits on his phone.

“Nope! No peeking!” He giggles. “Just keep messaging.” There’s something in his eyes that I can’t read. I shake my head and turn back to my phone.

RomanPrincexo: I appreciate it. I was wondering, who runs this account?

LincolnHighOfficialInsta: I’m not supposed to tell.

RomanPrincexo: Oh, okay.

LincolnHighOfficialInsta: Maybe I’ll break some rules for you later, though. ;)

RomanPrincexo: It’s okay, I don’t want you to get into any trouble.

LincolnHighOfficialInsta: I won’t, trust me. I have the whole school board in my back pocket. They adore me. Do you still need to talk about anything?

Something in me makes me trust this mystery person. It could be Mr. Sanders, or Logan, or Valerie. Either way, what’s the harm in venting a little? I trust all of them.

RomanPrincexo: Actually, kind of.

LincolnHighOfficialInsta: I’m all ears.

I end up spilling all of it to them, maybe skipping over the part about Logan, just in case. I do mention him, but not with the same wording I used for Virgil. After that, I shut my phone off and give them time to really read it and turn back to Virgil.

“I’m safe.” I tell him.

He smiles. “Good. My dad says you can come home with me tomorrow, by the way. So you can have a break from your parents.”

I love Virgil’s dad. He’s super sweet and kind of young. He has light brown hair and large, round glasses. He has freckles all across his face. Honestly, I wish I could just move in with them.

“Awesome, I will.”

“Hey, are we going to the debate tournament tomorrow? Logan’s in it.” Virgil smirks.

Obviously Logan’s in it. He’s the smartest guy in our school.

“Do I have to watch Dee and Remus flirt with him the whole time again?”

Virgil chuckles. “More like flirt at him. He always ignores them, remember?”

“Okay, fine. We can go.”

---

Logan

The message from Roman is heartbreaking. I’m honestly considering telling him that it’s me, just so I can offer more comfort. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to express my feelings for him. Every time I see him, the words bubble up in my mouth like boiling water, ready to spill over. When I finally go to say them, they stop boiling.

If the best I can do for him is be anonymous, then so be it. I type out a supportive message and a quick goodnight, and then I shut my phone off and go to bed. I have a debate tournament tomorrow and an unbeaten streak to keep up.

---

Roman

“Virge hurry up!”

“Roman, these boots take time to lace up! You just want to see your true love!”

“It’s not my fault you dress like a 2000s MySpace emo.”

“As if you don’t dress like a wannabe Broadway star?”

“I am a wannabe Broadway star, thank you very much.”

“Yeah whatever. Let’s go.”

We started walking to the school, where the debate tournament was conveniently being held. We arrived just in time to see Logan getting out of his car. He spots us and waves.

My heart does somersaults, but on the outside I just smile and wave back. To our surprise, instead of going inside, he walks over to us. Well, to my surprise, at least. Virgil seemed to be expecting it. In fact, he just kept walking, leaving me alone with Logan. He shoots me a wink before going inside.

“Hey Roman, can I talk to you?”

I can feel my heart threatening to break through my ribs. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?” I manage to get out, even though I can feel my lungs struggling to hold oxygen.

He smiles that damn smile. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed pretty worried yesterday.” He must have seen the confused look on my face, because he continued after a moment. “Oh, I guess I should clarify. I run the school’s instagram account.”

“You- you do?” He nods. “Yeah. I’m alright. Just a bit of a scare, I suppose. I appreciated your help, though.” I’m very upset with the sun for making my blushing face perfectly visible.

“It was no problem. I care about you.” There’s something different in his smile now. Something I can’t name.

“I- uh- I care about you too.” Why must I be so nervous around him?

“I don’t think you understand what I meant.” He steps closer to me and I lock eyes with him. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

“What did you mean?” I can’t prevent my eyes from wandering around his face and eventually falling on his lips. He’s close enough that I can feel his breathing now.

“I meant-” He pauses, I can almost hear the gears turning in his brain. It seems like he’s trying to find the right words. He shakes his head. “Is this okay?” He cups my face with one of his hands and all I can manage to do is nod. “I meant that I love you, Roman.” He finally forces the words out.

My jaw falls open and I take a deep breath. “You... do? I mean- I mean I love you too! You’re serious right? This isn’t a joke?”

“No, it’s not a joke. Can I prove it to you?”

I’m not sure what he means by that, but I nod anyway.

He leans down and kisses my gently, his free hand finding its way to my hips. My eyes flutter shut and I kiss him back. It’s a little bit awkward at first, since I’ve never kissed anyone. We figure it out after a moment or so, though. His lips are soft and they feel perfect against my own. He smells like cinnamon and vanilla, and something herbal. His hand softly caresses my face and he pulls away. He gently leans his forehead against mine, both of us breathing heavily.

“So, do you believe me?” He whispers, amused.

“I do.”

---

Gosh. this was longer than I intended. Honestly, I’m really proud of it. It’s making me feel things in my heart. I also kind of made Logan suaver than I meant to, but I think it’s fine.

@mayflowers07

#logince #long post #yearning #homophobia mention #abuse tw

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watchmegetobsessed · 5 years

Text

Shawn Mendes // Boundaries Part 10

hope yall spending christmas with eating and sleeping, and got everythig you wanted! here is part tennn, enjoy!

ALSO IT CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT TOO!!!!!!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

As I imagine, this is what Death entering a room would feel like. Sucking everything lively and happy from around, sending chills down your spine, bringing all your fears to you in just one second making you wish you never woke up this morning.

As I stand at the window staring at my reflection I feel Knox’s hand gently touch my waist and I want to shake it off, but I can’t. I’m frozen.

He gently, but quite firmly turned me around and I finally faced him. My stomach became one big knot as my eyes bet those icy blue ones that I wished to never see again. He looked just the same, dark eyebrows, hard cheekbones and a pretty manly beard with combed back hair, his usual style topped with a suit that probably cost thousands of dollars but it’s just a few pennies for him.

A distorted smile appears on his lips as his eyes travel down my body and I already feel disgusted even though nothing has happened.

“You know, I’ve been watching you all night, I was waiting for your client to leave you so we could talk,” he starts with a very secretive tone and I’m trying my best not to look at him. I want to tell him Shawn is not a client, but I choose not to. “How have you been?”

“What do you want?” I manage to speak up, my voice coming out weaker than I wanted it to be.

“Why so fussy? Just wanted to catch up with my girl.”

“I’m not your girl,” I hiss at him. “And get your hand off of me,” I finally say. I think I surprise him for a moment, but he quickly regains his confidence. His hand falls off of my waist and I can’t help, but stare at the ring on his finger. The fucker is still happily married.

“You know, I don’t like the way things ended between us. I feel like… we could do so much better.”

I see the shining in his eyes and two years ago I would have already been falling into his arms with jelly knees, but not today. I’m not who I was when he made a total fool out of me and I’m just hoping I’ve became strong enough to keep my walls up.

“There is no we. Never was.”

“Judging from the way you screamed my name when we went to Atlanta there was.” His cocky smile disgusts me and the thought he just brought to me makes me want to vomit. I don’t say anything so I don’t throw up, but this gives him the chance to continue talking.

“I know you think I’m the Devil, but we both know this is not true. You’re just… angry at yourself, I don’t blame you. Things could have went better. But maybe we could meet sometime, when you are done with this boy and ready to be with the man of your dreams.”

He has no idea what he is talking about. His little ways don’t get to me anymore, this sweet-talk doesn’t make me fall on my knees and beg for his attention. I now know what it is like when someone treats you as a partner and loves you without condition. And Shawn is the person who taught this to me.

“That boy made me feel like a woman while you just treated me like a dumb doll, making me feel like what we were doing was right. But it wasn’t and you are still a sick bastard. You shouldn’t even come near me, Joshua made it clear to you that our business is over. I’m not interested in your little games anymore, I actually know what I worth now.”

I keep eye-contact for as long as I can, using everything in me to stand as powerful as possible in front of him. I watch as a small smile creeps its way to his lips.

“You slept with him, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t seem angry or worried, it looks like the situation entertains him and it’s making me shiver. My lack of answer tells it all for him as he lets out a delightful chuckle, throwing me towards the edge.

“You think you found the love of your life, right? Oh, poor naïve girl. I see sex still means everything to you and this boy was lucky enough to get a taste of it and you are now all worked up on him.” He takes a step closer to me and I suck on my breath when I want to back from him, but I bump to the window. “Nothing can change the fact that you are just a prostitute. People rent you out like a book or movie, use you for their own satisfaction and then throw you away. That boy has no idea what you do and how you live, but I know. I’m the only person who knows everything about you and if you think there is a slight chance of you living in a normal relationship with him… You are more stupid than I thought.”

I’m on the verge of tears as I’m still staring at him and his stomach-turning grin he is looking at me with. It sickens me how such a handsome, successful and potential man can be a rotting pile of shit inside. And the worst part is that he is still not finished. Placing his filthy hand on my upper arm he leans very close to my ears so I can feel his hot breath on my skin. I have to stop myself from scratching myself wherever it hits me.

“I assume he has no idea about the package you come with. You are good at hiding it, but it is there. What do you think the world will think about your little lover if they find out his new girlfriend is involved with drug dealers and extortioners from the worse kind?” I don’t say anything, just press my lips together tightly as I stare at one point on the floor. “Exactly. That would ruin him even if you can use his money to cover every loan you are still paying for. The word will travel fast, Sweetheart. And you can bet I’ll be fast to hop on that wagon and give out all your little dirty secrets.”

He steps back and a tear rolls down my cheek. My hands are shaking and I feel like I’m about to faint any moment. I look up and see Shawn standing in the doorway with two bottled waters in his hands, watching us with his jaw clenched.

I turn back to Knox and seeing the satisfaction in his eyes is my worse fear, but I can’t do anything about it. What he just told is true. If anyone finds out who I am Shawn’s career and maybe life is ruined. I can’t do this to him and I was so stupid letting everything go this far between us.

“I hope your wife finds out soon what a fucker you are,” I spat at him before I manage to finally move my legs and walk away.

The moment he can’t see my face I feel the tears rolling down my cheeks and I see Shawn blurrily as he immediately puts the waters down and rushes to me. We collapse in the middle, his arms circle me tightly as I bury my face in his hard chest.

“Who was it? What did he tell you?” he asks frantically, looking for Knox in the crowd, but he can’t see him anymore, he is long gone.

“I want to go back to the hotel,” I mumble into his neck as he is stroking my hair soothingly.

“Okay, let’s go.”

We rush through the groups of people trying to be as invisible as possible, we make it down to the garage and I’m extremely thankful I don’t have to have a shame walk to the car in the ring of paparazzi. I sit as low in the seat as possible, covering my face from the flashes that light through the windows. Shawn slowly drives out of the garage and when we are finally on our way back to the hotel I sit up straight.

“Naya, what happened?” He reaches out and places his hand on my thigh giving it a gentle squeeze and it’s making my heart ache.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I whisper as I stare out of the window, not daring to look at him because I know I would just start crying.

He doesn’t try to get me to talk, we drive back in total silence and it continues like this when we are on our way up to our room. Shawn’s eyes never leave me, examining me with concern all over his face while I feel like I’m totally drained out. I know tonight is the end of it, as much as I hate to admit, Knox opened my eyes and I know I have to end everything by the time the Sun comes up. But Shawn deserves an explanation and closure.

He opens the door for me and walking in I kick my heels off heading to the bed. I sit down to the edge Shawn soon joining me, sitting next to me in silence, just waiting for me to say anything.

“I’m sorry you saw that,” I say, my voice barely coming out more than just a whisper.

“Who was he?” he asks, and for my biggest surprise he doesn’t sound mad, he is just worried for me which makes it even harder for me.

“He was one of my first clients, I worked with him when I was a newbie. He is… a highly manipulative person, he made me fall for him, but he only needed me as a toy, to have someone to play with when he was bored.”

Shawn sits there without a word, giving me the time to collect my thoughts. I slowly turn to him and let him take my hand between his palms. The hot touch of his skin is soothing, but it also makes me feel guilty knowing what I’m about to say.

“I thought I loved him, but he really just wanted to make me weak so he can get me to sleep with him. He made me emotionally attached to him so I was basically on my knees the moment he snapped his fingers. Joshua doesn’t let clients book someone two times in a row, at least a month has to pass, but because Knox made me this wreck and so dependent on him I went back to him on my own. In my own free time.”

“Did he ever hurt you?” he asks and I can sense the tenseness in him immediately.

“Not physically. But he destroyed me from the inside. I was his obeying sex slave until I saw a text thread with his friends. It was the guy from that party… he talked about how he wants to use me until I’m totally lifeless and he was planning on buying me out from Joshua. Though it’s not possible, he doesn’t trade his girls, it got me boiling. I confronted him and somehow got him raging, he admitted to having a wife, which he hid from me the whole time somehow, and he told me I will never be a functional adult ever in my life.”

The tears are dwelling in my eyes again and for a moment I feel like I can’t do it. I just want to curl up in his arms and tell him I want to be with him forever. But then Knox’s words echo in my mind and I sober up.

“Shawn, these past two weeks have been… the best time of my life,” I tell him with a bittersweet smile. “You taught me so much and…” I take a deep breath and just let the words roll down my tongue. “And I love you.”

His eyebrows raise and I see happiness in his hazel eyes.

“I love you too,” he tells me and I feel like I’m about to punch myself in the stomach with what I’m about to say after this.

“But we can’t see each other anymore.”

I watch his face fall and I immediately wish I could take it back, but it’s too late and deep down I know this is the right thing to do. It’s the most painful thing seeing him hurt like this knowing it’s because of me.

“I don’t… I don’t see why… I mean…” he starts shaking his head as he refuses to accept what I just said.

“Shawn, it’s just not possible. With the life that you live and the one that I live… We can’t do this. I can’t do this. I became an escort for a reason and I’m not bringing you into my mess. If anything gets out about my real identity and the stuff that I’ve been linked to… I would never forgive myself for ruining your career.”

“Why do you think you’d ruin my career? It’s not like you killed someone, right?”

“No. But there are other bad things and I would hate the thought of harming you in any way.”

“But you can’t be sure this would happen!” he protests, obviously not knowing anything about my background and where I come from.

“I am sure, Shawn. And don’t try to come up with ideas to save the situation. I know it’s hard, but I can’t let you do this to yourself because of me. It’ll be better if we just… don’t see each other after the agreement is over.”

“But why don’t you want to… to fight? I’m sure we could figure something out, I though this thing meant something to you!”

“It means everything to me!” I choke out as I slide closer and without a second thought I throw a leg over him and sit on his lap hugging his waist with my legs. “It means so much, you mean so much to me. I said that I love you because I do. I meant it. And because I do, I wouldn’t be able to live with the thought of harming you. I’m not going to let you battle my fights, I don’t want to involve you in my dark past. This is why I’m letting you go.”

His eyes shimmer from tears he is probably holding back, his fingers are roaming my back as I slide my hands to the base of his neck. I’m taking notes of everything, how his skin feels on mine, the line of his defined jawline and cheeks, his adorable curls and the way he licks his lips.

I can tell he is battling himself, he wants to protest against me, but he also wants to respect me and my will. I run my finger along his jawline stopping at his lips.

“If this is what you want… I respect it,” he says finally speaking up, but I can hear the endless sadness in his voice and my heart breaks. “But can I ask just one thing?”

“Sure,” I smile at him letting the tears run down my cheeks not caring to hold them back anymore.

“Can we forget about it just for tonight? Just for one more night, please. As a goodbye.”

I immediately nod my head and without hesitation I press my lips to his kissing him hard and passionate.

All barriers fall down and we cross every boundaries as he pushes me down to the bed getting on top of me. My cheeks are wet from my tears, running onto my lips, but he doesn’t seem to care. We kiss like it’s the end of the world, and in a way, it is for us. I tug his shirt off of him as his hands quickly work on my dress and make it disappear in no time. In just a few minutes both of us is naked, tangled in the sheets and in each other. One time it’s me on top, the other it’s him. He litters my face, my neck and my collarbones with open-mouthed kisses, lacing my fingers through his hair I pull his face up to me so I can kiss him.

I manage to get on top of him once more as his erection is pressed to my inner thigh. I rock my hips against him and a satisfied moan slips through his perfectly pink lips. I press my lips to his rosy cheek before leaning closer to his ear.

“I love you. I really do,” I whisper, his large hand covers the back of my neck as he is pulling me down for a kiss.

“I love you too,” he moans into my lips and my heart is racing. I reach down between us, I need to feel him inside me.

I position him to my entrance and our eyes meet right at the moment he slips into me and fills me up perfectly. I gasp at the pleasant feeling as I’m adjusting to him. His hands grab onto my waist and gently starts me moving, but soon I start lifting myself up and dropping down on my own. I sit up throwing my head back, letting a guttural growl out in pleasure, his hands travel up on my body until they find my breasts and squeeze them passionately. I place one hand on his while putting one to his chest and leaning on that arm while I never stop moving.

“You are so beautiful,” he mumbles leaning up and pressing a kiss to my chin before flipping us over.

I immediately wrap my legs around his waist and when I feel him go as deep as possible I scream his name out. He slams into me again and again, hitting that one spot that is making me shiver under his touch, his lips return to my neck sucking on my skin and I’m sure I’ll have a nice hickey in the morning, but I couldn’t care less.

“I love you,” he tells me again and I’m whimpering under him as I’m getting closer and closer to my orgasm with each thrust.

“Shawn, I- Ah…” I’m lost in him, I look into his eyes, I see the sorrow in them and I just want to make him happy again. I would do anything to see him smile again.

Except one thing.

I pull him down for a kiss so I don’t have to look into his eyes and he picks up his pace as we both are close to our climax. My fingers dig into his back, probably leaving marks on his skin, he is moving forcefully and fast, his hair is covering his forehead, some locks stick to his sweaty skin, but he still looks like the man of my dreams. He probably is.

I finally reach the top, moaning his name I throw him over the edge and he releases himself into me as well. With a few more sloppy thrusts our highs die down and he collapses to the bed besides me, pulling me to his chest. My cheek is pressed against his hot skin, I can hear and feel his heart beating crazily.

A few minutes later he pulls the cover over us, our legs are tangled together and I’m playing with his hair at the base of his neck as we are just silently lying in bed facing each other. I can feel my eyelids getting heavier with each passing moment and I’m trying to fight my tiredness wanting to spend as much time with Shawn as possible, but I just can’t help.

“Sleep, baby. I’ll be here in the morning. I promise,” he whispers pressing a soft kiss to my forehead as I close my eyes.

“I love you,” I mumble under my breath, but I’m already drifting off to sleep. I feel his fingers touching my cheeks and I’m almost dozed out when I hear his reply.

“I will always love you.” His voice echoes in my mind as I finally fall asleep in his arms.

#shawn #shawn mendes #mendes #shawn mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfictions #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfics #mendes army #shawn mendes x reader #boundaries #boundaries series

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bittysvalentines · 5 years

Text

Zoo Date

From: @eatallofthepumpkinthings

To: @secretgeniusshittyknight

Content: Ransom/Holster, established relationship, canon compliant

“Good afternoon”

“Hello there young man. How many?”

“Two, please” he responded. He glanced over at Ransom who was vibrating out of his skin. His eyes were huge, his lips pursed in concentration, and his back stretched to try and get a peek past the gates. He'd spent a month creating and refining a spreadsheet that “perfectly maximizes our animal exploration time.” Their itinerary he now clutched in his large hands. Holster couldn't help but smile at his boyfriend's excitement.

“That'll be 35.95” He handed the woman his credit card and turned towards Ransom again. When Holster had suggested this a month ago, it was before a bombardment of new customer meetings, budget realignments, new team member onboardings, and all manner of project delays and hiccups. He couldn't wait to get in the gates and put the month behind him. He smiled again as Ransom saddled up beside him.

The admissions lady passed Holster back his card and a receipt which he signed. She slid him two maps. Before he could grab them, Ransom had snatched one away and was ripping it open.

“Excited, aren't we?” the lady asked. Holster chuckled.

She began to speak again but startled a bit at Ransom's boisterous “Woo hoos” He had grabbed Holster's hand and was tugging him towards the gate.

“Well before you guys head in there, do you have any questions?”

“No I think we have everything covered. Thanks!” He let Ransom tug him about a foot.

“Have fun and welcome to Franklin Park Zoo.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**************************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Whats up next babe?” The first section they had gone through was the “Serengeti Crossing” where they had spotted porcupines, zebras, ostriches, and warthogs. They'd just finished the “Kalahari Kingdom” section where they got to see some lounging lions and a tiger that was bathing its cubs.

They had stopped to read every info graph and inscription by each animal, plus Ransom had shared some pretty sweet, and sometimes, sick facts about each animal they saw. Holster was endeared to Ransom when he realized that his partner had spent extra time on the zoo's website and online in general to learn facts about all the animals just to share with him. But he realized they were running about 15 minutes behind schedule and wasn't sure how Ransom would react once he realized.

Holster bit his tongue as he watched Ransom review the itinerary and then look at his watch.

“We are running behind, but that shouldn't matter much right? The plan was to be out of here before closing but if we stay til then... There wasn't something you needed to get home to do right?”

“No, nothing. I got my work done for the K&R project last night so I haven't anything to do tonight. Well except maybe you” He waggled his eyebrows at him.

Ransom laughed as color rose in his cheeks. “Well then...” he wiggled his eyebrows back at him. “Lets just stick to the plan of action, but not worry too much about the time.”

“Sounds good to me!” Ransom dropped Holster's hand and unfolded the map holding it against some siding.

“If we continue down this path, we should come to the Tropical Forest building. It's what's next on the list and it's inside so we can take a quick break to cool down and to reapply sunblock to your forehead.”

Holster guffawed “Its only been an hour and a half”

“Bro, and you're already lookin' like a lobster.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**************************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later they sat at an empty pavilion table near the “Things Wild” gift shop, taking massive bites out of Bitty's PB&J sandwiches they had packed. Holster was thanking his stars for the forethought to pack 4 sandwiches instead of just two, and he was already daydreaming about the crock pot pork they had waiting for them at home when he looked over at Ransom who was scrolling through the SMH group chat.

They had now gone through the Tropical Forest, “Bird's World”, and the “Outback Trail”; seen what felt like hundreds of different animals; and took what felt like a million different photos. When they finally sat down for their late lunch, Ransom sent some of their better photos to the group.

Tango: Can we get an ocelot for the Haus? Its so cute!

Chowder: I agree with Tango! :D

Ollie: I also agree on the condition that its Haus trained

Wicks: Did you know that ancient Australian war lords kept trained emus in their armies?

Ford: I'm not sure you guys are cut out for taking care of an animal

Tango: C'mon!

Chowder: Aww :'[

Ford: also Wicks that is like 100% false

Ollie: Nah its totally true

Ollie: do you think a monkey could hang from our lights?

Whiskey: you mean the chandelier in your room?

Chowder: totally! But monkey's aren't heavy. And look lemurs are tiny too. They could both probably hang from it

Wicks: Swawesome

Ollie: Swawsome

Ford: NO

Bitty: good lord thats a disaster waiting to happen

Bitty: yall couldn't handle a stuffed ocelot. Let alone a live animal

Tango: I could def take care of a stuffed ocelot. It doesn't even need to eat!

Chowder: Are we talking cute stuffed or weird on the wall stuffed?

Lards: Way to talk them down Bits

Jack: Thats a great shot of the flamingo. Its very difficult to get an action photo like that on a phone.

Bitty: #masternegotiator

Whiskey: That is a good shot of the flamingos guys

Nursey: yeah yeah great shots, haus pets, blah....but did none of you notice how that red kangaroo looks like Poindexter. Its like a spitting image

Dex: sdkj;fjkdsa;kdf Nurse!

Tango: Ears

Lards: EARS

Bitty: EA RS

Chowder: eARs

Shits: that Capybara is giving me good vibes guys

Shits: good vibes

“You forgot the best one babe,” Holster brushed his hands over Ransom's and then quickly grabbed his phone.

“Hey!” Ransom laughed, and so did Holster. “Which one are you sending?”

“The one with us and the hippo!”

They had just walked into the Tropical Forest building when they came face to face with a smiling hippo. A group of school children were on the opposite side of the tank and tapping on the glass. Before the children could run up to the other side of the tank, Ransom and Holster had slid their backs against the wall, locked lips, and snapped a selfie with the hippo. Holster had thought the hippo looked like it was blowing a kiss of his own, but Ransom had cheerily admonished him for anthropomorphizing the hippo. When they had gotten to the side of the tank where the children had vacated, they found a plaque informing them that the hippos name was “Fred”. Holster held back a smug face, but winked at Ransom and his scrunched up nose.

When he sent the picture to the group chat the response was near instantaneous.

Chowder: CUTE!

Tango: OMG so adorable

Wicks: Niceeeeeeeeee

Ollie: Nice!!!!!!!!!

Dex: Noiceeee

Nurse: Why does he look like a priest at your wedding?

Shits: Is that hippo ordained?

Jack: Congratulations!

Chowder: congrats!!!!!

Bitty: <3 <3 <3 oh im gonna cry

Lards: Can't believe you got hitched without us

Whiskey: Nice

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**************************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before heading off to the last three sections of the park, Ransom guided him into the gift shop. He perused the shelves of books, knickknacks, and stuffed animals. He found a pink stuffed hippo and immediately grabbed it from the shelf. He snuck up behind Ransom and rubbed the hippos face against his cheek. “Mwuah”

Ransom jumped but turned and laughed at him. “Oh stop it you... you...”

“Me...”

“Cutie hippo butt face!”

“That was lame bro.” Ransom's cheeks colored more and Holster leaned over to give him a smacking wet kiss himself.

Ransom laughed and wiped his cheek. “So are we getting that?” he said pointing at the hippo.

“Hell yeah! See anything you like?”

Ransom gestured to the stuffed lemurs in front of him. “Look at this.” He grabbed the arms of the lemur that were clasped together and separated them. When he let go they snapped back together. “Magnetic”

“Oh man, the frogs are gonna love that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**************************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They made it through the rest of the zoo in an hour and a half. They saw goats, butterflies, prairie dogs, and even some cute fuzzy red pandas. Holster grinned as he thought about Ransom's face as one of the zookeepers brought over a llama for them to pet. When Ransom had stroked the llamas hair his eyes had lit up like stars and his shoulders had relaxed. It was one of the few moments all month where Holster had seen Ransom relax.

He looked over at Ransom now. Took in his drowsy form, cuddling his new stuffed hippo. His eyes drifted closed ever so slowly, and reopened even slower. He doubted that he would make it home before falling asleep. It had been a long exciting day and they were both exhausted. Holster gently took one of Ransom's hands and laced their fingers together. “You had fun babe?”

“Yeah. Can't wait to get home and cuddle though.”

“Me too.” He smiled.

Notes

Zoo website: https://www.zoonewengland.org/franklin-park-zoo/

Zoo map: https://www.zoonewengland.org/media/1517583/map-fzoo-winter-2018-hd.pdf

I implore you to look up images of and learn a little bit about all the animals mentioned! Red Pandas are my favorite.

#holsterransom #fanfiction #bittysvalentines #bv2019 #omgcp

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wilhelmjfink · 5 years

Text

The Great Divide - Chapter 3

Summary: Daryl had told Riley a hundred times: people are not to be trusted and one day she’d run into the wrong person and learn pretty quickly that her confidence in strangers would get her into a lot of trouble. They both knew he was right. He was just trying to teach her before it was too late for her to learn.

Warnings: i’m not going to warn yall anymore there will be swearing in every single chapter and if you don’t like it what the fuck are you even doing here??

A/N: this one’s a little sad :-[

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

“Jesus Christ, I’m so glad you’re okay...” Riley’s words broke as she choked back a sob, leaning forward onto the bed that Daryl rested on, trying to avoid touching him at all for fear of hurting him further. “I don’t even know what I...”

“Hey,” he interrupted her despite his own voice still weak from a combination of yelling in pain followed by a long period of underuse as he just lay unconscious for the night. Riley had sat outside the door all fucking night while Hershel worked away at him, stitching and cleaning him up, tending to the many wounds he’d accumulated on his trip in search of Sophia, and even after. All night she’d waited for the archer to wake up because was so fucking worried. “Stop it. Don’ need to think about that, alright?”

She nodded and sniffled, avoiding his gaze with flushed cheeks. She’d realized something in the long hours of the night while she waited for his eyes to open bak up: if she was harboring any doubt about how she’d felt about him before, she was sure it’d been made very clear to everybody, including herself. She wasn’t sure if Hershel had told Daryl about her lunging at Andrea, fists, tears and curses flying sporadically until somebody managed to pull her off of her.

She didn’t even know why. She had no clue what exactly had come over her at that moment, but there was no more denying her feelings anymore.

And he would doubt it until the day he died, though; hell, she could look him in the eyes and say it flat out, point blank, and he still wouldn’t believe her. Maybe she would do that some day, and maybe he would believe her when she did.

But for now, he was fine with the relationship they had, hesitant for it to develop into anything more and ruin it. He gingerly reached out toward her, cupping her chin in his hand and forcing her to look at him with red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks and smiled weakly at her, the confidence to do so completely new and unfamiliar to him. “Cheer up, sunshine. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Riley could remember smiling then as she laid her head down gently on his chest and the feeling it brought her when he hesitantly brought his hand up and placing it on the back of her head. That was the first time he’d ever called her that stupid nickname, but it grew on her very quickly.

“You kinda have a habit’a runnin’ right into danger, Ri.”

She looked up at Daryl as he crouched overtop of her, dressing the new wound on her ankle for her. She winced as as he tightened the ace bandage around it.

“Too tight?”

“No,” she bit the words out through gritted teeth, trying her best not to show her pain and give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. They both knew he was — but she was far too stubborn to let it show. It was an honest mistake, and she had no way to see the broken metal protruding from the ground where an old chain link fence used to stand. Anybody could’ve tripped over it and sliced their shin open through their jeans. “And for the the record, Dixon, trouble has a way of running right into me, thank you very much.”

He snorted in response, pinning the bandage securely in place before leaning back to observe her. “You good to walk?”

“Yeah, I’ll make it.” She pushed herself up to prove it, using a nearby tree as a crutch. He watched her skeptically, fighting a smirk when she hobbled just a step before her knee buckling under her weight and sent her tumbling back down to the ground. “Ugh, just leave me here. Go on without me.”

So he bent down, scooping her up bridal style even as she protested tiredly. “Shuddup,” he told her, “we’re almost home.”

She smiled again, though unintentionally, at the feeling his radiantly blue eyes and slight smile brought her. Her fingers scratched at the top of her bed longingly, before she was torn from her unconscious at the realization that whatever she was lying on was not her bed but rather some hard, cold surface that was unfamiliar and unwelcoming. She shifted uncomfortably, dull aches and pains taking over in waves, her head throbbing with every beat of her heart.

“Ho-o-o-me?”

Daryl chuckled quietly at her delirium as her head lolled to one side tiredly on his lap, her dazed eyes trying to blink away the sleep. He could see Alexandria approaching in the distance through the windshield, rising over the dark horizon.

“Yea, sunshine, we’re almost home. Go back ta sleep.”

“Alright, sunshine, up n’ at ‘em!”

The foreign voice instantly tore her from the safety of her dreams and she knew immediately it wasn’t Daryl, despite the nickname she’d grown so fond of being spat at her. It was definitely not him, and she was not home.

“Please, I need help. My daughter is starving, just.... please help us.”

Riley stared at the stranger, her greasy black hair falling in front of her hollow eyes. Her prominent cheek bones and protruding collar bones said she wasn’t lying -- what could her daughter possibly look like?

Torn, Riley looked to the dead rabbit she clutched in her right hand and then to her pistol in her left. The woman was filthy, frail, helpless and obviously scared. She seemed young, so there was no telling how little her daughter was. Did she give up her only kill for the day, or continue back to her meeting spot with Daryl to head home? She knew the guilt would weigh heavily on her if she did the latter.

So with a sigh, she stepped up toward the lady who flinched at the sudden movement. “Do you know how to skin a rabbit?”

She was met with wide eyes and a subtle shake of her head.

“I’ll show you. Where’s your daughter?”

The stranger had wept the entire ten minute trek as she led Riley to her camp, which turned out to be a small campfire next to one dirty sleeping bag with a little tent to the side. There was a garbage bag and one milk crate full of empty water bottles and Riley briefly wondered how they’d made it this long in these conditions.

But she also noticed that there was no little girl but then thought she might be in the tent as the lady made her way toward it quickly.

“Here, Maya,” she said quietly, reaching for the zipper on the flap. “The nice lady is going to feed you. See? Mommy told you she would take care of you.”

Riley gasped as a walker shot out of the tent, stumbling and falling from the rope around its feet that was tied to a cinder block inside the tent.

And before she knew it, she was thrown to the ground, the rabbit and her gun flying from her reach.

The dirty, emaciated woman wrapped her boney fingers around Riley’s neck, sobbing and babbling unintelligibly, managing to hold her down despite weighing maybe one hundred pounds soaking wet. Riley’s right hand fumbled blindly at her side for her gun with no success.

“I’m sorry!” The stranger cried. “I’m sorry! She’s so hungry. I’m a failure! I’m a failure!”

Struggling still as she ignored the black dots that littered her vision, she was driven by the snarls of what used to be a little girl chained up next to her, her the decayed flesh on her hands outstretched and tangled in Riley’s hair.

“I’m sorry.... I’m sorry... I’m — “

The lady stilled, words lodging in her throat, the grip she had on Riley’s neck releasing allowing her to gasp in the oxygen she’d been striving for. The deadweight on top of her still held her prisoner like a heavy blanket where she lay in the dirt, and suddenly the growls beside her were silenced as well, and then everything was still.

Riley strained to look around the corpse on top of her, panic rising rapidly, before she noticed the arrow protruding from the lady’s skull.

She exhaled a deep sigh of relief as the weight was torn from on top of her, a familiar voice grunting as it hoisted the body from its place on her and discarded to the side. But the moment of comfort didn’t last before her hero stepped up and she could feel the anger in his words.

“What the hell’s the matter with ya?” Daryl chastised her, rage glowing in his eyes as he yanked her to her feet. “Ya can’t jus’ fuckin’ run off, girl! Do I really have to tell ya every fuckin’ time? You gotta fuckin’ death wish or somethin’?”

He continued as his hands ghosted her body desperately in search of bites or scratches, his anger obviously stemming from worry. Riley knew that much by now, so she focused on regulating her breathing and calming herself down. She was embarrassed and the adrenaline was still coursing through her veins.

“How many times do I have to tell ya to fuckin’ stay with me? Huh?” He got even angrier when she didn’t listen, didn’t look at him. “Hey!”

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, catching Daryl off guard as his hands fell to his sides. It wasn’t like her to cave so easily instead of snapping back at him, but she knew she had been wrong to take off after that stranger — very wrong. She had quite literally brushed with death and it was all because of her nativity. “You’re right.”

Daryl’s eyes bore into hers as she stood still, slowly bringing her hands up to rub the bruises already forming on her neck.

“I just thought... she seemed so...”

“I know,” Daryl sighed before retrieving his crossbow off the ground and, with his free hand, rubbing his face tiredly as he tried to simmer himself down. All of the anger had dissipated the second those words came out of her mouth. God, she could make him do anything in the world with just one word and one bat of those eyelashes. “I know ya mean well, Ri, but ya can’t just go runnin’ off alone to help everyone that asks. Ya can’t trust people like that no more. Ya know that.”

“I know.” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him tightly, savoring the familiar feeling of security and warmth, the next words tumbling out of her mouth before she could even try and stop them. “I love you, Daryl.”

Riley was ripped from the hard surface she’d been laying on, suddenly submerged in the hot light that enveloped her in a warm, comforting hug before she forced her tired eyes open, ignoring her pounding head as it pleaded for her to remain in the quiet darkness.

It was still fuzzy; the world around her was bright and hazy and she didn’t know what was real anymore and what was fiction. She could hear voices, unintelligible and unfamiliar, and a loud metal grinding and clanging somewhere close, too.

Blinking several times to try and clear the fog did nothing — in fact, she soon began to realize that it wasn’t just inside of her head but all around her, the air thick with smoke and smog. It was so dense that she could see it; it turned the sky reddened above her dark and gloomy. The scene looked like some post apocalyptic industry-based utopia, the metallic clanging getting louder and louder before a train engine roared to life beside her.

Holy shit, she thought, I haven’t seen a working train in years. Am I dreaming?

Once again she was forcefully pulled to her feet before being shoved harshly until her feet stumbled in front of another before she could remember how to walk. It helped her senses return, slowly but surely, and she noticed her hands were bound together with thick, coarse rope.

Her mouth was too dry to speak, and her head was still pounding, the debilitating throb hitting with each beat from her pulse, blood and adrenaline pumping through her veins.

She couldn’t see the person shoving her but she could see several people around her, all of them dressed similarly in some sort of leather or metal armor, some knee pads and shoulder pads with spikes protruding from them, some with gas masks covering their faces, others with welding helmets, all of them wielding some sort of weapon. Assault rifles, shot guns, scythes, sickles, spiked flails, guillotine swords. They looked like characters from a horror movie. Riley was speechless, absolutely shocked at the sight. What was first confusion and possibly anger had quickly turned into crippling terror.

She was lost. She had no idea where she was and, the more she thought about it, no idea how she got there, either. She had gone to help that guy in the woods — what was his name? Warner. And he was freaking out because somebody had taken his wife, Laura. The dead body in the woods — it looked an awful lot like the crowd of people wandering around her. She’d stopped to get a close look at it and that’s the last thing she remembered.

“I know ya mean well, Ri, but ya can’t just go runnin’ off alone to help everyone that asks. Ya can’t trust people no more. Ya know that.”

No, Daryl, apparently she didn’t know that.

Trudging down a sidewalk littered with garbage shell casings and broken glass that crunched underneath her feet, the wheels began turning in her head as they drug her carelessly along. She knew a few things for sure: one, she was alone; two, she was far away from home; and three — though she didn’t know exactly how yet — she knew that she was in for a lot of trouble.

And she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach that Daryl wouldn’t be able to save her this time.

uh oh.... anybody guess the video game yet? hehehe

thanks for reading ch. 4 will be out friday :-)

@crossbowking @jodiereedus22 @apossiblegentleman@mtngirlforever@sourwolf-sterek32 @winchester-angel @qrangr@cole-winchester @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @twdeadfanfic@crazyaboutnorman@deliciousassafrasssandwich @bunnymother93@96ssi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @ima-mther-fckn-starboy@thatsoragan @lonewolf471

cover: background daryl i am the girl on the right lmao

#the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #twd drabble #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead drabbles #the walking dead daryl #daryl x oc

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