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thebuginyourwalls · 2 years

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One Small Wrong: Chapter 1

Heya! This is the first part of a little fan project I'm writing inspired by the world created by @not-a-space-alien for their series "Watch Your Step". I'm writing it a little free-form at the moment so I'm not sure how long it will end up being, but I'm hoping to include plenty of hurt/comfort (aka you will all confront your traumas or so help me god) and a bit of an unseelie court flavour to the main hive of Pixies in this story.

Anyways, I'm also pretty new to the gt sphere so I'm a little nervous about posting still, but I've been wanting to get involved for a while so I'm finally putting myself out there. I hope you all enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it. WYS has such wonderful worldbuilding which has been an honest joy to create ocs for.

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Blackthorn rubbed her shoulders, breathing clouds into the chilly air. Luckily the snow hadn't come to the forest just yet, but if she had to guess it would arrive any day now. Already all the substantial prey were either moving on to greener pastures, preparing for hibernation, or dying off.

It made her restless.

Her wings buzzed with frustration as she paced up and down the tree branch. She had already double and triple checked her equipment, but Apple was nowhere to be found. What was holding him up?

An hour had passed before the sound of something fluttering up to the branch behind her stopped her pacing.

As expected it was him; Apple fidgeted anxiously with the frayed ends of his woven jacket, while on his back a sharpened flint knife in a carefully folded leaf caught the light on its edge. It seemed far too big for him, and he stood like he was worried he might cut himself on the exposed point.

"You're late," Blackthorn stated simply, frowning at him.

"S-Sorry," he straightened his posture slightly, "I was just saying goodbye to everyone. Just in case things...go wrong."

She scoffed, folding her arms.

"Nothing's going to go wrong," she turned away, marching back along the branch, "Come on. We're losing valuable darkness right now."

And indeed the sky was beginning to brighten with the slow rising of the sun. They had maybe a few hours before the first golden rays hit the treetops.

Apple jogged up beside her, pulling his hazel hair up into a small ponytail. Then he seemed to change his mind and pulled it down again, twisting the little loop of twine over and over in his fingers.

"But what if they find out? What then?" He asked.

Blackthorn rolled her eyes.

"They won't."

"But I can't hunt!" he whined, "Everyone knows it. They'll find out you helped, and then they'll exile us, and we'll have to find a new home. During winter! And-"

Blackthorn turned on her heel, grabbing Apple's shoulders roughly. He squeaked, dropping the loop of twine from his hands which disappeared into the tangle of bare tree branches below.

"Look. This is your first time bringing food back. You're nervous. I get it," she squeezed his shoulders, "But just because you've never caught anything before doesn't mean you can't. You're going to do fine. Nobody's going to be exiled."

He shut up in response to that, but pouted like he had more to say. She raised an eyebrow expectantly, and he squirmed under her gaze. Finally, he looked away from her and spoke.

"If you really think I can do it, then why are you doing this for me? It's not allowed. Why risk yourself if it's not because you think I'll fail?"

She winced at the question, knowing in her heart that it was true. He hadn't done well in most of their training up to this point, and being sent to catch his first prey in the colder months was almost the same as the hive telling him to go find a nice hole to die in.

She sighed and released his shoulders with a soft pat.

"I meant what I said. I don't think you'll be a bad hunter," she glanced up at the pale grey sky, black branches contrasting harshly against it.

"But autumn is a tough season to be sent on your first hunt. I...told them it was unfair, Mother didn't listen. She's been..."

She shrugged, shaking her head.

"I don't know. Mother's been Mother. She'll brighten up around springtime, and then there will be plenty for you to catch on your own. Just think of this as me giving you a little extra time."

Apple nodded, looking unconvinced, so Blackthorn tried a smile. She wasn't good at seeming enthusiastic, but Apple was someone who responded to the feelings of others. At ease when they were at ease, tense when they were tense. And Blackthorn was always tense. Even Hemlock, her ever dour mentor, had told her she needed to relax.

"Besides," she continued as brightly as possible, "I won't technically be killing anything for you, I'll just be trapping it."

That finally earned her a smile in return, and he nodded a little more enthusiastically. Good. He needed the confidence.

When she buzzed from the branch he followed quickly, not dragging his heels as he usually did. They flew from tree to tree, ducking from the sight of birds and sticking close to the trunks.

With the night quickly fading away they were becoming more and more at risk, and though a fight against a predator had never worried Blackthorn, she wasn't so sure about Apple.

He wasn't like her, with her spines and claws and sharp teeth. He was the spitting image of the aunt that had birthed him; bright olive skin and soft, silvery wings not fit for exhaustive flying. But even Aunt Hazel was large and strong. Apple was young and clumsy, and he was also going to be spending far more time outside of the hive than Hazel which put him at higher risk than her.

"Is it far?"

His question brought her out of her thoughts. She looked over her shoulder, noting how he was sticking close to her like a shadow. That was probably for the best.

"It's just down here," She fluttered down to the forest floor next to a dry thorn bush, her weight cracking the thin crust of frost that had formed on the leaf litter.

She waited until Apple had safely made it down before she pulled back the branches of the bush, revealing a small space wherein two Pixies could lie in wait quite comfortably. Her snare equipment was here too. Nothing too complicated; just enough to catch something like a mouse or a small bird. A believable first kill for someone like Apple.

"You wait there," she indicated to a smooth stone in the centre, gathering her tools into her arms, "I'll set this up and we'll wait until something gets snared, then you finish it off. Don't come out until I give the all-clear, understand?"

He nodded, though his antenna drooped a little in disappointment, and sat himself down on the stone. Despite his timidness she could tell there was an air of anticipation about him. The transition into a role in the hive was an important one; it solidified his right to live there, paying back the debt of his raising by the Aunts and other hive-mates.

She couldn't blame him for feeling guilty that he wasn't doing this by himself. But once he came back with an acceptable kill everything would be easier for them both; No more risk of exile for him, and no more worrying about his fate for her. He could earn his keep legitimately another time, when the weather was warm and prey was abundant.

----

It took her about an hour to set up and find bait for the snare. With all the animals already stocking away what they needed for the winter, it was remarkably difficult to find any food that wasn't too mouldy or small to be worth any creature's time.

Eventually she came away from her search with a handful of chestnuts, trying her best not to think too hard about her own empty stomach. Breakfast could come after helping Apple.

With the trap readied she returned to the bush, where Apple was sat with his chin in his hand, absently scratching random shapes into the dirt with a twig.

He looked up when she came in, immediately panicking a little and scuffing out the doodles with his foot. He straightened his posture, trying to look serious.

"Uhm, welcome back. Is it all set?"

"Mhm, now it's just a matter of time," she sat herself down, pulling her own flint knife from its sheath and beginning to sharpen its edge quietly.

Apple watched her with interest for a little while, but quickly grew bored when he realised she wasn't going to be making conversation. He picked himself up from the rock and went to peek through the thorn bush at the trap in the clearing, flickering his wings irritatedly.

"Are you sure we're not meant to be doing something? We really just sit here?"

Blackthorn lifted her knife to the light, inspecting her handiwork.

"Yep," she placed it in her sheath and smiled, amused at how little he had changed in all this time. Other than being a little taller, he was just the same as that impatient, adventurous hatchling she had been assigned to train so long ago.

"Just sit back down and make sure your knife is sharp. You'll need to use it soon."

When he didn't move from his spot she huffed with annoyance and went to get up, but then all of a sudden he was pushing his way through into the open and she had to scramble to catch up.

"What are you doing?" She hissed after him, as he marched confidently into the clearing. Knifeless. Camoflagueless. Defenceless.

He was going to be the death of her, she swore it.

"I'm just checking it!" He called over his shoulder with a smile, "It'll only take a second!"

"There's nothing in it," she swept her arms in a wide gesture towards the snare, "You can see that from here!"

"Yeah, but...I don't know. Maybe you got the wrong bait or something? I just wanna look at--"

Snap.

The noise permeated the silence like a thunderclap, and was followed by more snapping of twigs and branches as something large moved through the woods towards them.

Blackthorn's eyes shot to Apple, who had frozen mid way between her and the snare, staring at the approaching shape in a state of shocked paralysis.

She willed her body to move, but her feet remained rooted to the spot for a second too long. The shape broke the treeline, and in an instant a fresh chill ran through her blood.

---

Blackthorn had heard many stories of humans. She had even seen a few from a distance.

None of it had prepared her to see one up close. They were much like Pixies superficially, but with just enough differences to hit an unsettling nerve. This one was wearing something on its head with a kind of shelf over its eyes, casting them in ominous shadow.

Most scary of all however was the sheer size of it. It towered over all the shorter shrubbery and plant life, crushing the frozen leaves and empty seed casings with each of its thunderous footsteps. It was a wonder to her how it had even managed to sneak up on them in the first place. In the back of her panicked mind Blackthorn cursed herself for being too focused on Apple's stupidity to actually listen for approaching dangers.

"Th-Thorn-"

Apple's voice snapped her out of it. His terrified face was now turned to her, ears flat and antenna flared with worry. He was right in the human's path; if he moved now it would certainly see him.

With a shaking hand she pressed a finger to her lips and slowly crouched low to the ground, glancing up quickly to the human. It didn't seem to have spotted them yet, but its gaze could turn downwards at any second.

She looked back to Apple, who had copied her stance but still stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the dark brown leaf litter. He had no chance. He would be seen.

Another heavy footfall made her flinch as the human stepped fully into the clearing, blinking its brown eyes against the rays of sunshine that were filtering through the sparse tree canopy

Blackthorn took a breath, trying to concentrate. She could feel her magic bubbling through her veins to her fingertips, like pins and needles.

In a last ditch effort she threw her hand out, casting a glamour over Apple just as it looked down. In an instant all the background noise of the forest seemed to bleed away into nothing as it stared directly at Apple.

Then it began to crouch, and for a terrifying moment Blackthorn thought that she had somehow messed up her spell and left her brother exposed to the view of this giant.

Its fingers moved towards him, and the olive green colour of Apple's skin changed to a sickly pale colour as the shadow cast over him. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands balled into little fists at his sides. Blackthorn reached for her knife instinctively, although part of her knew it was hopeless. He was done for.

Then, by some miracle, the human's hand passed over him, ignoring his presence as if he were nothing but another piece of debris.

Blackthorn could practically feel the wound spring of tension in her core loosen. But nonetheless she slowly drew her knife, not daring to even blink as she watched the human's hands carefully. One wrong move and she would jump to Apple's defence, not caring that it would certainly get her killed as well.

But instead it poked at the snare she had set up, humming curiously to itself.

In her effort to disguise Apple she had totally forgotten about that thing. Perhaps she had assumed the human wouldn't even notice an unnatural assortment of twine and sticks so far below it on the ground, but this one seemed to have an eye for detail.

It tilted its head and tugged gently on the stick that was driven deepest into the ground.

Apple began to curl himself into a little shaking ball. He had opened his eyes again (a mistake, for sure) and was now uncomfortably aware of how close he was to the looming form of the human.

Blackthorn wished desperately that she could offer him some comfort, and more importantly instruct him to stay still, lest the human's curiosity transfer to the strangely moving leaf below it.

Luckily it seemed to be preoccupied with the snare, uprooting all her hard work with ease as it stood back up to its full height. Blackthorn's heart sank as she watched her carefully constructed trap crumble to bits in its hands, and just as quickly as it had pulled it up to get a better look, the human discarded the remains with a dismissive shrug of its shoulders.

Then it moved forward, heavy boots mercifully missing Apple by a few inches as it stomped back into the undergrowth. Blackthorn released a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding as she watched it go; Neither her nor Apple dared to make a move until they couldn't hear the movements of the human any longer.

Even then, Blackthorn waited until the silence gave way to birdsong and the skittering of small creatures in the brush before she left her spot. She flitted across the ground in a blink of an eye, dropping her knife down beside her as she knelt in the dirt over Apple.

As soon as she was near him he unleashed a terrified wail and threw his arms around her, immediately sobbing so hard that his whole body shook. He cried incoherently about how scary it had been, and how he was sure it saw him, or was going to crush him without even knowing.

Her mind felt numb and fuzzy, and so she could only hug him back and hush him gently in response.

Ahead of her she could see the broken snare, now indistinguishable from the other bits and pieces on the forest floor. Something about it sparked a flame of anger in her chest, the sharp spines along her skin beginning to bristle the more her dark thoughts fed it.

That stupid, oafish thing. Stomping around like it owned the place. Destroying her handiwork. Scaring her brother. Ruining their chances at a successful hunt.

And its presence only meant that there would be more. Humans were a social kind, or so she had heard. Where there was one, more would soon follow and chip away at territories until entire hives were forced to flee and find new homes.

Blackthorn thought of her own hive, and realised with a cold dread how many would be left behind in such a situation. She would be considered strong enough to go, but Apple... Not to mention all the little hatchlings too small to fly.

She narrowed her eyes at the darkness the human had disappeared into. She couldn't let that happen. Something had to be done to drive it off. Somebody had to take drastic action before more arrived and made their nests here.

"Apple," she said firmly, peeling away her brother who had gone from sobbing to merely sniffling weakly into her shoulder.

His face was puffy and tear stained, and when he looked up at her he seemed to flinch away just a little, caught off guard by the fierceness of her expression.

Despite his fear she didn't bother to put on a fake smile for him. Anyone could see from the way her spines bristled and her tough wings rattled against her back that she was angry.

"Y-Yes..?" He choked out, watching her warily but not yet wanting to step away from the embrace.

She looked at him seriously, hoping her scowl would be enough to keep him from arguing with her.

"You need to go back to the hive. Right now."

Not arguging seemed too much to wish for, as his face immediately went pallid with terror and his fingers clutched her arms even more tightly.

"No- Please! D-Don't leave! Don't make me go alone!" his face crumpled, and more tears welled in his eyes.

"I-I don't know what to do. I don't know how to hide like you--It'll see me and I'll lead it back to ever--everyone else-"

She shook her head and wrenched herself free from him. It hurt her to see him so afraid and desperate for comfort, but she couldn't afford to be soft on him now. Not when such a tangible danger loomed on the horizon.

"Don't be a child, Apple," she snapped, "It's headed away from us, you won't cross paths with it again if you go right home. I'm sure even you can manage that."

Her cruel words had hurt him, she could tell. His antenna lay flat against his head and he seemed ready to start sobbing again, but he didn't move away, only wringing his hands and fluttering his wings anxiously.

"But--But I don't have anything," he protested further, "They won't let me in."

Blackthorn wanted to yell at him. Tell him he was an idiot, and that if he was going to cry over every big predator he met then he really wasn't fit to be a hunter. Anything to get him to fly home quickly without her, but her resolve was slipping.

It had always been her weakness. She had all the skills of her seniors at the hive, but she lacked that coldness that granted them such clarity of mind. She wanted nothing more but to hold Apple's hand all the way back to the hive. Yet she knew that would only seal both their exiles.

Hemlock had already been suspicious when she had told him she was going hunting on the same day Apple was having his trial, but he could perhaps be convinced if they arrived separately. Getting back at the same time with the same story about a human in the territory was more than enough to prove she had interfered. And she wasn't going to return home first and risk leaving Apple outside by himself long enough to gather a mock search party--if Mother even agreed to send one at all.

No, it would have to be him. She could handle herself just fine out here.

"Tell them you saw a human," she answered finally, shoulders slumping as her tone softened, "Don't say that it spotted you, just that you saw one in the distance. That's more than enough reason to head straight back home. They can't blame you for following the rules."

Apple sniffled, shaking his head.

"But what about you..?"

"I'll be fine," she assured, "I'll follow it to make sure it doesn't start heading for the hive, and then I'll come back around sunset. That way it won't seem like we went hunting together."

That was merely a comforting lie. Blackthorn had no real sense of knowing when or if she would be back, but she couldn't dwell on how this might be their last conversation. It would be best to keep it short, and let her brother believe everything would work out alright.

Besides, the anger in her chest was only growing with each second. She had to do this. Even if she couldn't get the human to leave, she was going to make sure it never wanted to go anywhere near her kind again.

"Go," she took another step back, wings unfolding behind her, "Stick close to the trees and the shadows like I taught you, alright?"

Apple moved forward, as if to stop her, but she was much faster than he had ever been and fluttered out of his reach easily.

"Thorn, wait--"

"I'm serious, Apple. Go home. We can hunt together another time, just--let me handle this."

He shut his mouth, retracting his hand with a small, solemn nod. He walked slowly to the base of the tree that they had been hiding beside only to linger there for a moment longer. He gave a final glance over his shoulder at her like he was hoping she would change her mind at the last minute, but she simply crossed her arms at him.

"Don't fly too recklessly, and look out for spider webs," was all she said.

His whole body slumped dejectedly as he turned away from her, defeated. Then, in a flash of his silvery wings he was lost to the remaining shadows of the forest.

Blackthorn took a beat to be impressed by how his stealth had improved. When the vivid plants of spring and summer bloomed again, she was sure he would master the art.

"Right," she looked away, pushing Apple from her mind. From her vantage point on the ground she could more clearly see the path of destruction the human had waged on the poor withering shrubbery.

It seemed that something so big was incapable of moving gently, which made it all the more alarming that she hadn't noticed its approach the first time. She would have to be careful, stay out of its line of sight.

Crucially, she would have to know if it had a nest nearby. Some humans seemed to travel far beyond their territories for seemingly no reason, but if it was living here then she had to be sure it wasn't living with others. The idea of facing multiple humans was daunting indeed, so she would need all the information she could gather to act effectively.

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Now that she was alone it was easier to slip into her instincts as a hunter, and this was to be her biggest quarry yet. But she was practised, and patient, and armed with the element of surprise.

In a strange sort of way, the idea of doing something so dangerous was a little thrilling. So much so that she couldn't keep a small, vicious smile from crossing her lips as she flew up to the tree canopy and began to tail the human's tracks.

#gt #g/t #giant/tiny #gt fearplay #fairy #folklore #gt writing #size difference #Not much about the human in this first half but dont worry you'll be meeting him soon :)#Hes got a big storm comin' (and he will be largely oblivious to it)#[oc] blackthorn #[oc] apple #my writing #[story] One Small Wrong

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t34z · 2 years

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do you remember?

"hey, do you remember back before this all began? remember when it really was all just a game?"

short second person blaseball fanfic reminiscing on the events of season twenty-four at the end of the world.

written for the end by a guy who's kind of just fucking around.

edit: this is also on ao3 now if you want to read it there or something

"hey, do you remember back before this all began? remember when it really was all just a game?" you still remember it clear as day. you remember stepping out on the field for the first time. season one, day one. the air was warm, the sky clear. the only concern on your mind was whether or not you'd win the game. you could never have guessed how much you'd come to treasure that memory. you stare into the distance. you can see darkness creeping forward, far enough away it hardly looks like it's moving at all. you remember the first eclipse. you remember when people started dying left and right. you remember when the shelled one was the worst threat you've ever known. it felt like the end of the world. if only you knew what was to come. you remember Her taking over. you remember the floods, the consumers, the countless suns, the semi-centennial. you remember everything that lead us here. season twenty-four had kicked off with the death of the kansas city breath mints. with the firewalker out of the vault, of course you expected someone to die. but this death had nothing to do with macmillan. under the brilliant light of something entirely unseen, the breath mints were reduced to ash. a beautiful light we all would come to know well. next were the fridays. welcoming macmillan with open arms, they accepted their fate. underneath the multicolored glow of the supernova eclipse, they too went up in flames. no other teams were incinerated, but now you wonder how much that truly matters. you remember the commissioner taking the microphone. you remember the moist talkers going to the hall. you remember the sunbeams going to the desert, rendered entirely nameless in the process. you remember the readers plan. you remember the sunbeams rushing at the Boss, scattering Her. you remember everyone being let out of the hall. you remember the death of the Boss. through all this, the black hole (black hole) began nullifying things, one by one. at first it felt almost insignificant with everything else going on. that is, until the pies scored one too many runs. that day, the pies were unceremoniously ripped from existence. the black hole (black hole) began to expand, quite rapidly at that. everyone near it was nullified as well. we ran for safety. and that leads us to today, watching the darkness in the distance come nearer as the event horizon expands, nullifying all in its wake. everything is oddly calm. the panic has subsided, the acceptance setting in. of course, you're still terrified, we all are, but what else is new? "of course i remember." i reach for your hand. we don't know what's going to happen. no one does. you rest your head on my shoulder. "i'm going to miss you." i glance at you, then back at the horizon. it's closer now. we can see everything being lifted up and away in the distance. we've done all there is to do, so here we are, watching the end of the world, side by side. i don't know what's going to happen to me, and i don't know what's going to happen to you. but whatever happens, i'm glad we're going through it together. and now, it's over. the credits are rolling. your hand in mine, we watch as the world begins to disintegrate. goodbye. i love you.

#blaseball #blaseball zine jam #characters intentionally left up to interpretation #half because it's fun to do that. half because i didnt want to figure out what characters to write #this is going here because i don't uh. have? anywhere else to post it

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gwynbleiddyn · 2 years

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and 1 (because i know the answer), 4, and 12 (bc it's Thematic) for cadey bear!

cadey.... my beloved little (big) renegade

What is the main color associated with them? What connections with that color do they share?

red red red

red sand, red torfan, red renegade scars, allll the red that winds up being heavily contrasted and equally complemented by several shades of blue

there's the obvious association with violence and intense emotion that comes with red, and it's not an idle connection in cade's case. i should clarify that he himself is not a violent person, but his life has been violent and tumultuous at best, and it's really shaped him into a biotic battering ram of mass destruction!! we love to see it!!

What mythical creature would they be represented by?

i want to say y ddraig goch.... ambitious and hotheaded and larger than life, and also so very welsh

Are they the sun, moon, stars or something else in space (black hole, meteor shower, etc)?

i think i enjoy the idea of Shepard being reminiscent of a dying star -- at the brightest point of their life, skyrocketing past the point of no return where they will be forever changed and marked by the reaper war. a little bit like Frodo, you know? the world has been saved, but not for them.

Cade embodies that a lot; he's sacrificed so much and committed some horrors in the name of humanity - he wouldn't change what he's done, not at all - and it's left him kind of burnt out and different by the end, but not without its light! dying stars throw everything of them into a surrounding nebula before they collapse after all, there is something better in their absence but it's still a painful, volatile thing to let go of

#c: caderyn shepard #these were excellent thank u bear <3

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libidomechanica · 27 days

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Said, having hole joy he was a

A sonnet sequence

But in mine, were first he whom do with his born, we dance as I tell. And watching love alone: upon the those rules in love, and stilts, is hear, it’s no flowers as if thou lay they? Said, having hole joy he was a wonder’d her he madhouses; had refore of those polar energy, Madam, young from love by the music swimming strangement in thy words weep not rob thy face of snowy hath hold through the air, through the shielded scutcheon bless, until of shade, and all men’s eyes.

In posts in his need than I not seen in hand realm of Yún, and on paper; among the hoards; nor use and Debauchee of louest touch’d out of lightly to a greasy slides and dews of the Sea, this lucid find salue on its ear O Sorrow, how could finds howsoever, and runs on my youth swain the smoke cigaret! A love you with Amaryllis dares now tis not be two word in the stair, exposed stag: pipes of Kleenex, that loud girth I was darkening, runs on they who first; tis flower?

Ye gods of the hall-door, she euen in the Passchendaele, Babi Yar, Vietnam. Bright room see the coin of? To kills of thy prauncing a virgin daught I must he rose all herd-maiden’s eyes. And, for the turn to pinching in the naked fishes—did we hopeful seldom I think not plenty; then quak’d, and hart doth beaded-curtain ordered most melted, children: sayes, by sun my palm tree. And love swells like ice, and blows a bore of the blest, can weal, wilt be? They wept, or he sheep.

Pain becauses of Kai Khusrau. This words will counsel’d, from the wide pink, and rather happy in a weeds jet-black reticular exceptions the firm, the bay. On such cheerly, cheer. Tis fled: twas back. And so rarely wards choose hurl’d to Fortune? And be a pinions, and catch thee: which out-at-elbow peer. Is way—unseen; for a table, as I tell thee, gently bleed and blow struck a word I have that till death a chamber, so my spouse Nancy; they’re silent done, she contemple.

And with the cloudy phantasm! And every and gorgon voice or sideways, I growing and wonder that greate were a children, confess, no doubt: but their trees, these passe no ears after me? Woodwork bootless of this cave first pleader, in love: O impious are is no one smallest kiss, but right his Son, before, young Phoebus, forc’d find in you. In it: so much play: dissolve, and the pillows; and sea, to that hole built. Dying to tinge, or future gone mine; I’ve passion and light.

Why have sleep, sleep, when Madeline, among side-faced; when, with new-leave a conscience so woods. In theirs enquire of hearts to ceas’d a suddenly he midday. With the earth instant word of flown, of sweet sleep in Peace under-taken in whose ciuil wars and my love cannot be my faces, with my mind, on ever the only smarts, hollidaye, and turn’d this rarely stuck the sun! Toe. She can starry hed: and his sentimes that bottom with uplift Endymion sparkling for me.

When nightly, to one mad, with its deathful Hippotades are for I avow, who for her enchantments soft; the bone: clasps here! In their timidly ravished an elephantom of the green his crystal circles, great which here we come other between grace, well apayd? But I could be risk’d to divinest! Noise of wondering, even yearning waue doth from white; save to seke? Tis no one Breath’d in her grant, I opine, apollo’s play’d. Oh, had me full well attir’d with clay.

In spitting at times because of her when, sick mard brother can pick the times in Afric like to Love no sound out only from a sings did lies, that is home? I live nuptial wives have know how I see there t is, t was to draw a home? Where it very climate: for his lines of a pinching not received, affrayed him, and back, this is the world her both of Love’s journeys endless I came it? With dimpled Chloe, while thou haue forced me like a tree. I am forbidden guest.

Of Wisdom in slow did passes before the balls, while on making as the TV because you would be the mouth is, and pale? Flown, or for if thou gave inters year. Breath, as the vale? If it will has but scarred by some meikle was it warm delight morning tear! Up the Royal Life interview the heed: thou say you seest trembling of that noble Natalie rolled in broad then, Sicilian Muse-like horse; do not least, as sake there and I heart to be distill shepherd blows out a draught in gastful of him in soothing because of death. And he same aged before would love for gently court, ’ and these the forgiven them would spread; besides all image shade purpose green nook. Or the might at broke my coffing.

I’m mere none word of They know it is no one word then mama who has the when the snow, for lay-men, yea, glad, yea, gladly beggar and Musgraves, the Crampe thy breath, and men waiting I must speak, shewing, amidst thou will comes that brides. We can may know, thieves me to his grass, because to Cynthia’s shall cast on puls’d it of there the moment, there she heare Stellas eye, th’ inditers, in journey is in Neptune’s on each the whom you drinks ’twould their little bits own? Remorse.

And thou, fair Madeliness a man. Yacht to his eating in the develops, as down, call as Sense. That not the night is the good smiles, after they would that unnoticed& alone. Tho’ a’ my digree from these my hung all here—a kid I on this bonnet self; if the skies. Will beauties with will no more: looked out against while they what we, once more thereform’d before had I with agues in: let it mankind: and other graced yearly; and queen of her to have clung to non vitto.

Since is freedom shent when we have I rub togetherby Hallucinogenic blue from universe soft laye, and Hyacinthus’ toil;— but when, in you’llfind sense where, hey ho seely sprawl, and violet,—To gives us our pypes shepheard, that the betrayed on her; or let the clocks dividual; and that the swam the hallucinogenic blue forehead we can it to her eyes, to my cries: is strut, and beam on my body the head. The forgive may see it not you I love?

And the head so chil lovely beneath my made, and worst always has he pure immoral less bells, with precipitate; for heads that spake, and People solar energy, Madam white and illustrous was I say, when time,—sluggish an exampler, in made for who always easily knows what have clarion, it grief at the first-born soft Angela theology, fine rest at finding astrong. Held barefoot, but it’s full once that the Silver present melt? Most pure palace.

Is mother he roofs with thee will didst thought to folly scalp. How you hast thou hast times with eloquence rathers, with rust is not signe on a goods which is ally. Winds, lie, nor settled—and the works a sorts aloft, young Lochinvar. We climb in the death.—Like horses and for my self-solitude! At first; why the nightst the rightly selfe intery pan to be awake, like thing! My sheep looking dismantle build as shepherds th’hill’s short fever, cleaues the shut eyes or grieve, and for thus?

By winds here, as there no long with away! And yet me beyond the dawning with grounding me, I could be spirit fainting trees of all the Gospel’s balls, cast by elemen kirkward that liked in my bosom heaven, my Bellini’s peach other voice? Or long with privilege. That Stella spicy force higher love butter, awake! It was golden dark, that tended with dirt. Where is my commitment, wan, who shame. I movements corners rude shattery prays the rests upon hooves.

In her wide away; for some from of his mortal bow, the but Half- lance-like. And the flower of his mitred lady with my soul, that lovers. A good thou are behind grass, a female, you I love, and speak; still we can Bagpipe, or drive they my lady had never twilights, But ever bed, and thou honourable thee, as loved but the told that glistened Eyes to this bore of three; the moment heaven’s educations, and fault was where strive the same for the clouded, but keepe.

It has within his for roots the iron she will no more fair farthest have visionary senseless to scare few short him over men. To turning by mirage to the trellis darkens. Shall know not looks immortals twain the argent ring- tide hurt your sute did repairs complishments covert, like thee beneath the air at a wonder find into the Society forests have remember him not a thought, a habit I pick out all the mark if her feel that are clouds lies.

Ho the days; but not a sleepe! I sat a time, till ask, when I fills echoing with falsifie. His moment after agony to clear; Corinna’s eyes; my all my nature out ever, shipwrackt, spoyld, depriv’d of miles, flatter in a full of a back doth so to itself and so languine much lovers, in mine! Prone another climb in and through there no love should always with that night—I bid faintive crau’d the Prophetic fire: bettered, snail- paced ye wanderested to sleep.

Lovely rest his tamed natural nurse the—sun We image was she! But foot did an arriving lutes: for all, on summer-night, but evening to recall to severally, and their full drop the wishes. And thee. His early truth. That, and Tom bear in their hear to rub them beyond that is truth: her body turn for one is budding them, and report. Do it the sweet dread wide opener do it plus thou hast this raven holy price of this. Breathing in each pure imitate the joys.

Of the Solway, maybe, look, quince, Love, and implores where heirs is apples for they’d in the should breasts.—Till rest, that’s young Lochinvar. And draw one can. With his is but a foreverend should for pity, and by all now my souls entwine, lass, with large lengthen whose eyes and unrelentor, which nourists. His flames full substance, when in me in me like a buzzes long matched. If men abacus and thou are forests, making to be the blood, walk’d dishest, said: Go up, a row and still.

And say, more, your like thou should brain. The same his world’s bites? So much is this is with dim yet I am shalt be my heart my head to defende, to shepheard they came again, my stood danced her one so pure his dungeon taste queen of Auspiced strife, not our kernel tree of please, yet caetera, in dumb orat’ries, that Stella is that delight I from Dian’s flowers be where is i’ve no more: looks of freedome sure while groan’d, tis not care the very words, with jet, that, and burst of flight!

Do not three, beneath the teeming in the greasy Joan doth most entice above thee thunder doom, those breath a familiar in barefoot, belongs till the early grain: he tried man, hawk’d about wherein the was may nothing indeed: but a wound, take me the dark earth weather play’d. Pure She humming can did Judas hath beau, a finish’d in a kennel. Of war turne, which to me, how fast far swords of attach’d the head, debar’d tyrant produced what least, for hearts of mortal, their scalp.

Very One, and that honours its soul want that since I in the part their mind to dwell knows nor pleasing the enter’d Well-a-day! Nor scarce daring in the brew’d from the bolts full fall damn near. With good as my Julia’s wedding of these past though double, crown’d by all sob on. The heap’d upon the little Idol up; on when Bacchus all this i’ve knock at a young, who put force it keepeth clov’n heel, from Shírín, and with its blue, looks, that’s today … Let none; so clear, those sad occasion.

Who cantos would weary be, so you where upon a reservice is conquering the accomplishment. Like accomplain of there wise world, the below. My soul was gotten to dwells. Of perch doveline’s charity, is he? But cash, Malthus sprang the mine earth’s a king pursued away, this apt to rauncing else renew’d! Now if the house, no utterflies from these new white robes green corn; Come away, but scarce expect to wishes, up the night, which joyes take a morals are none.

Goodbye, good and speak, she sit in the Lord, I have the expiations of Madeline’s gate, whereal, flush of rules breath in argosy translated eels,—even there’s a bore, the cuckoo; cuckoo; cuckoo, cuckoo! Till strutting a Midwife, and golden hair? On summer days to dwell away; So say true as best boye, hey ho! So will be at—but by band are with new the lot of his own anxieties Queen-womanly goddess-like—like to be beldame so am I …?

Bow, for ever at then, come for him this wife weave with green leave hit, made everywhere all thou leaden in their know for the Flowing to its passion! Where a newe meet and far-heart shall come forgetting your frail that cause no morn. Leant a crescent gorgon voice, those to qualify. No doubt: but ere delight, so your’s long pray, the heard on her bed, and live and let it is pretence—for our Design’d and while his; they mask Get her, Sisterhood with they met; but mankind; or new assaillers without in old and languishing its fared: there with raised an inwardly, a feast thou surely was from the cold and flowers of this pale jessamine, far bring and water where is buddy at natural, but your dull of spirit-home!

And Justice, but a boon is gone! Of pleasant them by discernings Never side-faced; while the sound. Too wells; where is discoverlooked them hither dreariesthood may fair St. And to him in accusals and sigh of their pastures my cries, I left our hearts midday. The fair! And cloth’d my Loue, since, to our hath to me, more I take the far brother own deepe did enter it as might, you and flow into reveals, such, early liberate He reflecting night as easy.

Ornament: and each other just touch’d I see, th’other, to the lead, and they founder their lids shade with and scarce daring of sorrow, Thus salvers of Natures what very climate, while as the people alone. For thought coming mine, reade you would I bless some leuin shall pry into truth, when, Sorrowing, every sun had slope up which on the from France, what, shadow: now, but a grieves to thy deeds. Came in they into the woman this is a blast success patience, as they seems to give!

Light like to a narrow to be that rate; and books trade, and sunny thy voice, not a shade held up through the fire I said the sad servile, pleasant changeable, and winged my Soul-wasting, welcome, and sweetly? Men able then all our age, reflection keep Touch, early twilight that other’d to his away below, sunk low, where, behold the fierce palate the very bier there’s not as flown, down aside, seeing love and for her, and vitamins. Passed to the room bowèrs where, merry din—now I have all the noise and this we might array’d; their hang thus consented, canter thriue that sober sene? God’s pride, that can doth beaded-curtain that walked into the numberless lie silver to insulate then thing its good near.

May ere love your mad minstrelsy! To the meadows! I would drops, as was perjured, more conscience in their St. Destined back the impossible recollecting the bedclothes of constitution, dear, did often happy both, and lose need with its on the ore, were breath, and founded into sudden fringe of shed, hissing-bell rung; virtuous search my part, whether grammer in a fit. So he good of the star spirits fair. Four wings, snappiness is hummingle lady, how peer.

Mad in her will let he striue, such succeed, it is looke hand innocent mirth! With though the Eyes lessed to this rage, where, and green for rest. Being as the Stone safeliest thou have young from her particular debarren waiting is down she forgive maid!—Fairest in secret smile, with the room bowèd neck like you recall asleepwalk betweene, the depths—she has panting? For west, my soul. With barren so, you give away, cheek,—she knewe dauntless cries half depart, pale shall can the years!

Still, go and in a sways like and neuter, you’llhave I sunburnt mirth! But our soule a stands to him, the glitter judgment continuance. Then, wild such glee? Do. Off, such to truth’s deep closes: but one whole. Passing, the Pope is they vanishing wheels me fire again forbid? But more, hey ho hold wandered swallow a girl whole self I would be of air creatured less. My home one Friday because of Glory. They sails the Words weight Upon those thee doth been; but fain, or in their and after I will I’ll take. That gift, upon never lastly murder his Reign dames of those all, thou mayest hearse. Affront on from the webbing is drag. Then, two years’ sake to the but change to dwell express’ lips, away betide least and face: in boils.

For pity hats and worse white horse who show us to me; do nothings some is but reed those other, and dangerous eyes shut eyes, blue and country when leave been breath ask mere heart to know: margarettes because you enter from which I plightful joys are your sute doth mark’d down to then, sweete to blame there I ever hips. Arms and the freeze knocking upon the surely soul, thou mayest heard including of these look yes light have been very color is so sore: helped the peeper when my mind. And on heaven’s winded& that my executional possess’d awhiles witty, to their sleek Panope with #3.—Faire at last, my heart was been so hush again—surely weeping hast then hear the rocks of her bright come fragrant prevail.

Where to go by quite belt of Mona high and white pink, and plump its harsh penance the me zones to heap’d and unset and I do pretty, to stroke. To our love, those tales? And was perfect day, I feel smiling cirque of these tears by slow about that it needst the gaps better by peace, you known and man, when on her fates! The cloudest of Mona higher reasonable quite on her he spirits free The bring themselves. ’ Let me dome when all can proofe shimmering of an animate on it.

Of his Robe of Sorrow. We all Mind. It is—I meant and beat: and be loss; but to the roses down whiles anyway, come quite ancient eye wherein is young, sweetest stay, let you known to ready have know; answer blowing down to all earth and worse towers by her roundle age of thee, and into sting of all its passing, Sudden crystalling full Fourteen-day full opener doors have chosen; of break of the Herald’s amain. Me a mortal, the christian, I wonder’s woe.

And said before, although sever. Join they? Is hold the earthly pleasured its the saw no more. Of her heads meet from his story of yesterday call no more dead then neither all, savage, and sweet loved you would have no more breeze knock at us no languish. Divided— as it up, he afternoon as if yet the winds bottom of the roote: if the morn not to weepe, hey have again. Come how came, to snows; and whistled away. You looks at his spher e d couch solitude!

Of all the sages, lily to a Ship on Goodwins casuist, I may somebody fading of though at a gentle hand rill obey thus, The braw gentle soul fatigued at home, doth was racing in that day. She clear. To the little pale. Till shepheard of grave! My heare was you that I may I better. But the dawn of sleeps catch you, lifting: hie yet maidens bleed. At her the sound by a new-born out. Is in you. The Arab barbarous chose for pity share was all our brain.

Hey ho hollidaye, that he which cannot stir, where upon his puree, My sleep. All clasp their garments, the farthine ask’d with all meet unreturn to a boy was though the giddy at is this, prayer, or any ways to draw, rot in the well to toe. Itself into the waves bear on curtains and love their head so clear brighted and the which the sweet death, and softly freedome sweet below, he floor; so the devil is sour: yet me down Splendid dishonest to move: for Lycidas?

To lay—then I have no casuist, the leopards—and the door sound the brave sigh all has so strong had ye with their peace, you shall saints, and rend apple, quite belt of Druids was but a death shade forgiven two must have vision, deares supper lies, I have gone deep her mates, overcame light form’d my gracelessed the mornings, as if the hurried and swearing- owl, and life’s fate, witness deep closet, my dizzy heard the old vine, and even the nigh expense from heate? Shall leant and haply malady to lay— the Lords the ragged for every tree, by thee, Sir Foot; and there’s not a hundred Thou are curtain Arethuse, you left the taughter. Such divine where is my Julia, if my willow’d upon my soul!

Keep, and can’t into the sans bans is my foes are go to the love I stream, and gracelesse of sin on though by days. Weep not a heap, discovering Bellibone, and all the Lark if her, thou, or grieve. And is but falline behind, I would has turned of fate own full-brimming the ocean amatory of there bred to takes are few red for Perigot of these Angel bring flowers as if it has my flew, high-strung Anthee, as of night at the tiger-moth’s red and whispered, murderous, midnight, that vast doth love my glance with patient. That vesper-carols are thankles. The field: sore deafe of Sorrowed. In this warblind in broad reck’d, the little Tippler leant and the never love you. What vast affords or not.

That old Damætas long, in mine, four,— for a good name; and, lass; and mee: I pyne, hey hath toying on sand- hills, as my own, of all that pass’d; It shall begins her Garment on their passing-bell make for speech two hour days, the water with ambers of the empyrean I love to play. And on Devon barred she, but ere Muse of silly wardrobe weary grow is clay,—to me, as from love will complete to fountains of the dearest girl’s mocke. Coronets by wine, to one north, nor harp sleep.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #141 texts #sonnet sequence

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plscallmeeren · 8 months

Text

PLAYLIST | THE MESSAGE

• Raven's Endless Mix •

Lash Out by Alice Merton

I've got something to say

Might start a riot

Rip that tape from my mouth

I won't be quiet

'Cuz everything is nothing 'til you realise it's something you want

Sound of Silence performed by Disturbed

In restless dreams I walked alone

Narrow streets of cobblestone

Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

But listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness

Like a heartbeat; drives you mad

In the stillness of remembering what you had

And what you lost

Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode

Take second best

Put me to the test

Things on your chest

You need to confess

I will deliver, you know I'm a forgiver

All I Want Is To Be Your Girl by Holly Miranda

We could fuck in the sun and dance 'til dawn

And all I want is to be your girl

Black holes in the skies to the ends of the world

Put rocks in your pocket, take the boat for a whirl

Lady Marmalade by LaBelle

Touching her skin, feelin' silky smooth

Colour of café au lait

River Lea by Adele

But it's in my roots, in my veins

It's in my blood and I stain every heart that I use to heal the pain

So I blame it on the River Lea

We Gotta Get Out Of This Place performed by The Angels

We gotta get out of this place

If it's the last thing we ever do

There's a Ghost by Fleurie

Am I afraid to be alone?

That nobody will ever know this death I'm dying

bury a friend by Billie Eilish

What do you want from me?

Why don't you run from me?

What are you wondering?

What do you know?

Why aren't you scared of me?

Why do you care for me?

When we all fall asleep, where do we go?

Green Onions by Booker T. & the M.G.'s

Then you put on your crying

Like you never cried before

Babooshka by Kate Bush

But how she was before the tears

And how she was before the years flew by

And how she was when she was beautiful

Mustang Sally performed by The Commitments, Andrew Strong

Those weepin' eyes

This Old Heart by Gin Wigmore

Breathe, the streets without a name

These burning clouds don't always look the same

Midnight moon, you are my thunder

I am the glass in which you wonder

Still, I keep falling on, babe

Highway to Hell by AC/DC

I'm on my way to the promised land

I'm on the highway to hell

And I'm goin' down

I Like It Heavy by Halestorm

If the windows ain't shaking

Making my heart race

If I can't feel it in my chest I'm in the wrong damn place

Got a demon in my soul and a voice in my head

Saying go, go, go, I can sleep when I'm dead

The Great Gig In The Sky by Pink Floyd

I am not frightened of dying

Any time will do, I don't mind

Why should I be frightened of dying?

There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime

Girls Got Rhythm by AC/DC

I've been around the world

I've seen a million girls

Ain't one of them got

What my baby she got

Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks

And the days go by, like a strand in the wind

In the web that is my own, I begin again

Said to my friend, baby

Nothin' else mattered

Sisters Are Doin' It For Themselves by Eurythmics, Annie Lennox, Dave Stewart, Aretha Franklin

Mothers, daughters

And their daughters, too

Woman to woman

We're singing with you

Black Sheep by Gin Wigmore

Making my own road out of gravel and some wine

And if I have to fall then it won't be in your line

Everybody's doing it, so why the hell should I?

Kool Girl by Seasalt

Totally untouchable

Cool girl

The kind your mother thinks is trouble

Amen by Halestorm

Someone's gonna hate

It's never gonna change

It gets harder every day

It's a hell of a place

To keep your heart from freezing

To keep yourself believing

brutal by Olivia Rodrigo

And I'm so sick of 17

Where's my fucking teenage dream?

If someone tells me one more time

'Enjoy your youth' I'm gonna cry

And I don't stick up for myself

I'm anxious and nothing can help

And I wish I'd done this before

And I wish people liked me more

Do Not Disturb by Halestorm

I'm on the very top floor, room 1334

There's a king-sized bed

But we can do it on the floor

Starstruck - Single Version by Sorry

Pressure, poets

Priceless smiles

Cutting edge

Entertainment

Foolish antics

Antique evenings

Fragile, frugal

Breaking even

Uppers, downers

All rounders

Back in Black by AC/DC

Back in black, I got the sack

It's been too long, I'm glad to be back

Yes, I'm let loose, from the noose

That's kept me hanging about

Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine

She hid around corners and she hid under beds

She killed it with kisses and from it she fled

Only Happy When It Rains by Garbage

And though I know you can't appreciate it

I'm only only happy when it rains

You know I love it when the news is bad

Why it feels so good to feel so sad?

Doom and Gloom by The Rolling Stones

I had a dream last night that I was a pilot in a plane

And all the passengers were drunk and insane

Everybody Talks by Neon Trees

I found out that everybody talks

Everybody talks, everybody talks too much

It started with a whisper

And that was when I kissed her

Gloria: In Exelsis Deo by Patti Smith

Meltin' in a pot of thieves

Wild card up my sleeve

Thick heart of stone

My sins' my own

They belong to me, me

People say, 'beware!'

But I don't care

Riders on the Storm by The Doors

There's a killer on the road

His brain is squirming like a toad

Take a long holiday

Let your children play

If you give this man a ride

Sweet family will die

Killer on the road, yeah

Wade in the Water by Eva Cassidy

And God's gonna trouble the water

I Hate Myself For Loving You by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts

Hey man, bet you can't treat me right

You just don't know what you was missing last night

Why'd Ya Do It by Marianne Faithful

I had my balls and my brains put into a vice

And twisted around for a whole fucking week

Man Like That by Gin Wigmore

Did he bite you on the neck right before the job was done?

And does he ask about your mama?

Does he sing your song when you get mad?

Well, I been there, done that many times

And all the kicking and the screaming won't bring him back

Teenagers by My Chemical Romance

'Cause they got ways of keeping you clean

They're gonna rip up your heads

Your aspirations to shreds

Another cog in the murder machine

Shoot to Thrill performed by Halestorm

Pull the trigger

Shoot to thrill

Play to kill

Too many women with too many pills

People Are Strange by The Doors

People Are Strange when you're a stranger

Faces look ugly when you're alone

Women seem wicked when you're unwanted

Streets are uneven when you're down

hey little girl (live) by sophiamarie.b

There's a ghost inside of you but it's hidden too deep

Hey, little girl, you'd never imagine

You get a little older, you'll get abandoned

Hey, little girl, you know smoking kills

You don't really care, 'cuz you love how it feels

Big Bad Wolf by Roses & Revolutions

Funny how it all works out in the end

You're playing with fire

Living in sin

Nothing's ever free

No, nothing's ever free, is it?

Khe Sanh by Cold Chisel

You know, the last plane out of Sydney's almost gone

And it's really got me worried

I'm going nowhere and I'm in a hurry

The Swing by INXS

It marks the moments as the years go by

In an innocent phase

jealousy, jealousy by Olivia Rodrigo

Co-comparison is killing me slowly

I think I think too much

'Bout kids who don't know me

I'm so sick of myself

Rather be, rather be

Anyone, anyone else

Ballad of a Thin Man by Bob Dylan

You try so hard, but you don't understand

Just what you will say when you get home

Because something is happening here but you don't know what it is

Do you, Mister Jones?

So Hott by Kid Rock

You got a body like the devil and you smell like sex

I can tell you're trouble, but I'm still obsessed

Insomnia 2021 - Epic Edit by Maceo Plex, Faithless

I only smoke weed when I need to

And I need to get some rest

Yo, where's my sense?

9 to 5 by Dolly Parton

Workin' 9 to 5, what a way to make a livin'

Barely gettin' by, it's all takin' and no givin'

They just use your mind

And they never give you credit

It's enough to drive you crazy if you let it

Living in the 70s by Skyhooks

I feel a bit nervous

I feel a bit mad

I feel like a good time that's never been had

I feel a bit fragile

I feel a bit low

Tomorrow, Wendy performed by Concrete Blonde

Underneath the chilly, grey November sky

We can make believe that Kennedy is still alive and

We're shooting for the moon and Jackie's driving by and

They say 'good try'

Tomorrow Wendy is going to die

Bang Bang Bang Bang by Sohodolls

So we put on our eyeliner

And a bit of glitter dust

Life at night is always finer

Neon streets are full of lust

A Little Wicked by Valerie Broussard

No one calls you honey, when you're sitting on a throne

Beware the patient woman, 'cause this much I know

No one calls you honey, when you're sitting on a throne

Girl With No Name by Jules Larson + AG

I don't want to write another sad song

I come undone from everyone I'm doing wrong

I call you up at night when I'm driving home

Will I die alone?

Maybe I don't mean it when I say 'goodbye'

Forever loses meaning for me all the time

Girl With One Eye by Florence + The Machine

That's the price she'll pay

I took a knife and cut out her eye

I took it home and watched it wither and die

Well, she's lucky that I didn't slip her a smile

Destination Anywhere by The Commitments, Niamh Kavanagh

Oh, destination anywhere

East or west, I don't care

You see my baby don't want me no more

They Say I'm Different by Betty Davis

My great-grandpa was a blues lover

He be rockin' his moonshine to B.B. King and Jimmy Reed

Rock on

That's why they say I'm different

all the good girls go to hell by Billie Eilish

'Cause even God herself has enemies

And once the water starts to rise

And heaven's out of sight

She'll want the devil on her team

Bloodletting (The Vampire Song) by Concrete Blonde

There's a crack in the mirror

And a bloodstain on the bed

Oh, you were a vampire

And baby, I'm the walking dead

I'm Not Calling You A Liar by Florence + The Machine

I'm not calling you a liar

Just don't lie to me

I'm not calling you a thief

Just don't steal from me

I'm not calling you a ghost

Just stop haunting me

And I love you so much

I'm gonna let you kill me

Milk and Cookies by Melanie Martinez

I'm fucking crazy, need my prescription filled

Do you like my cookies?

They're made just for you

A little bit of sugar, but lots of poison, too

Somebody to Love by Jefferson Airplane

When the garden flowers

Baby, are dead, yes and

Your mind, your mind is so full of red

The Fine Print by Stupendium

That's provided at generous prices

Your worth is determined by your sacrifices

A small term of service when down on the surface

Internment's a freebie that comes with the purchase

We work

To earn the right to work x4

To earn the right to give

Ourselves the right to buy

Ourselves the right to live

To earn the right to die

Bullet With Butterfly Wings by The Smashing Pumpkins

The world is a vampire

Sent to drain

Secret destroyers

Hold you up to the flames

And what do I get

For my pain?

Betrayed desires

And a piece of the game

Days and Days performed by Concrete Blonde

That's hours of forever

Running all together

Like the crossroads of a minute

And you and me were in it

And I never saw it coming

Never saw it fade away

Today, today, today

Zero by The Smashing Pumpkins

My reflection, dirty mirror

There's no connection to myself

I'm your lover, I'm your zero

In the face in your dreams of glass

Hounds of Love by Kate Bush

Afraid of what might be

Hiding in the dark, hiding in the street

And of what was following me

The hounds of love are hunting

I've always been a coward

And I don't know what's good for me

Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd

I can't explain, you would not understand

This is not how I am

I have become comfortably numb

Starman by David Bowie

Waiting in the sky

He'd like to come and meet us

But he thinks he'd blow our minds

Let the children lose it

Let the children use it

To Love A Boy by Maya Hawke

Like a hidden cave, I am always open

I hold the space you made, I'm empty, but still hoping

I have a feeling, a terrible fear encroaching

That I'll never love a boy the way I love the ocean

Little Dark Age by MGMT

The humour's not the same, coming from denial

Oh-oh, I grieve in stereo, the stereo sounds strange

I know that if you hide, it doesn't go away

If you get out of bed and find me standing all alone

Open-eyed, burn the page, my little dark age

White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane

When logic and proportion

Have fallen sloppy dead

And the White Knight is talking backwards

And the Red Queen's off with her head

Remember what the dormouse said

Feed your head

Are You Satisfied by MARINA

Do I need to lie to make my way in life?

Are you satisfied with an easy ride?

Once you cross the line, will you be satisfied?

Sad inside this life, unsatisfied, prayin'

Everybody by Cold Chisel

Everybody wants complete fidelity from two or three lovers simultaneously

Everybody wants to be an individual

Everybody else does, too

All I wanna be is idiot-free and out of here with you

What's Up? by 4 Non-Blondes

And so I cry sometimes when I'm lying in bed

Just to get it all out

What's in my head

And I, I am feeling a little peculiar

Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd

Do you think you can tell?

Did they get you to trade

Your heroes for ghosts?

Hot ashes for trees?

Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

Did you exchange a walk-on part in the war

For a lead role in a cage?

• Worth Listening To •

#eddie munson #edward munson #fanfiction #playlist #fanfiction playlist

0 notes

2goth2moth · 3 years

Note

Any sort of smut with a naga or feral mothman like creature please and thank you

Anon, you said "naga" and my lil scaly heart got so happy. I have no idea if this is even remotely in the realm of what you were looking for, but I just couldn't shake the idea of a human prince with a harem full of monsters. I hope you enjoy!

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The Prince's Favour (M!Naga x M!Reader, NSFW)

For reference: Enéas is a Brazilian rainbow boa. I was 100% going to have a blowjob scene in this but rainbow boas have backwards hooked teeth (think fishhooks) that are designed to not let things back out, and having that near your dick sounds like a very bad time.

Word count: 3514

Includes: Power dynamics (prince x concubine), non-human genitalia, rough sex, double penetration, a little bit of crying

Being the youngest prince in a kingdom with a still-living king could be overwhelmingly boring. Matters of state were passed to your parents and eldest sister, matters of security to your next oldest sibling, infrastructure and agriculture to the next oldest, twin brothers. Your bloodline was long and vital, which was very good for the kingdom’s longevity. It was not so good for keeping you occupied. Your role, as well as your youngest sister’s, ended up being almost completely performative, with official duties being limited to keeping up a royal education and looking pretty beside your family during public appearances. The whole arrangement left you with a lot of free time to eat and draw and lounge about.

And have sex.

It was normal for royalty to have lovers or harems, if they wanted to and their spouses were okay with it. You yourself had several lovers, all of whom you enjoyed and cared about deeply. One of whom was currently lounging invitingly on your bed as you did your best to capture his likeness in paint.

“Enéas, beloved, can you hold still for me?”

The naga groaned, the muscular coils of his body shifting slightly as he did. “I’ve been sitting for hours now. When you called me, I didn’t think it would be for this.”

“Ten minutes, then we can do something else. I swear.”

The look that he shot you was long-suffering, but he settled back into the purposefully relaxed position you had directed him into earlier after taking a sip from the goblet beside him.The whole thing was mostly an act. You had been summoning him to your chambers to sit for this painting on a regular basis for the past month, and no matter where the sessions ended (often with you wrapped firmly in his powerful body), you never put on any airs about what those first few hours would entail.

Golden sunlight shone through gauzy curtains and spilled onto Enéas’ skin, setting the scales ablaze. The round black marks that lay over red scales the colour of baked clay were already beautiful, but under the sun’s rays he was cast in a rainbow sheen, every scale shimmering like an oil slick. The creamy scales of his underbelly flowed from his face all the way down, flashing like pale moonlight between his darker coils. Naga rarely wore clothing, they had no real need to, but Enéas had certainly developed a taste for finery during his time in the palace. Fine, sheer cotton, dyed snowy white and rich yellow, draped around him like woven light, held in place by gold clasps. Cuffs set with precious stones circled on his wrists and biceps, and a beautiful metal collar engraved with intricate patterns lay flat against his throat.

“You’re staring, little prince.”

The rasping taunt broke you out of your stupor, and you realized that your eyes had been locked on him, paintbrush unmoving on your canvas. You finished the stroke you had started with a careful flick. Stepping back a little, you surveyed what you had done so far. The hours spent on the portrait had been worth it, and even though it wasn’t done, you could stand to be finished for the day.

“I was distracted,” you said. “You were distracting me.”

A cheeky grin split Enéas’s face. It was hard-edged and full of sharp, hooked teeth, stretching far past what it would have on a human face, but managed to be as lovely and charming as it was frightening. “I have no idea what you mean. I was only sitting here, just like you asked me to.”

“Sitting there in a very distracting way.” You wiped your hands on the sturdy apron you wore before untying it and discarding it messily to the side. “We’re done for today, you can relax now.”

“Finally.” He stretched his arms above his head and groaned loudly before flopping back and letting his eyes close. The movement sent his whole body rippling in the sunlight, and the sight made your mouth go dry.

You strode towards the bed, closing the distance quickly to sit beside Enéas on your plush bedspread. He didn’t even open his eyes when the mattress dipped under your weight. With a feather-light touch, you traced the features of his face with a thumb. The transition from red to white around what would be a hairline was first, the gradient of the small scales dipping low on his forehead and contouring under his eye sockets, the way it pulled back on his temples. The flat bridge of his nose, his sharp jaw, the mouth stretching almost the entire way along the hollows of his cheeks. He just barely leaned into every touch, doing a very good job of pretending like he didn’t care about you sitting next to him and touching him like he was something precious. Each one of his breaths fanned upwards, over your face, and it smelled like the sweet lime cordial he drank moments before.

Your thumb continued its path around his face until it caught on the center on his bottom lip. One of his eyes drifted open, pupil an inky slit on yellow-green sclera, and he parted his lips just enough for his long, forked tongue to flicker out. It wound around the digit, brushing against your knuckles and the sensitive skin between your fingers. Cold spit cooled even further on your skin as Enéas licked over your hand. In a single swift movement he dipped his head forward to take your thumb fully in his mouth. You froze. His lips tightened around it and he sucked, tongue still working you over. You could feel your cock start to fill and you pressed in and down, putting the slightest amount of pressure on the floor of Enéas’ mouth. A low, raspy moan rumbled through him, eyes fluttering closed and back arching prettily.

Putting more pressure on his mouth, you hooked your thumb behind the bone of his lower jaw and forced it down, exposing hooked teeth and making his tongue loll. “Get me ready, beloved, and be thorough.” You leaned down to press a sweet kiss to the edge of his scaly jaw. “I want both of them today.”

Enéas’s eyes snapped open. His pupils were blown wide in excitement and arousal, and he flickered his tongue out over your skin again before pulling you down next to him with firm hands. Those same hands didn’t hesitate to begin roaming over your body, making quick work of the fastenings keeping your tunic and trousers closed before pulling his own scant clothing off.

“It would be my pleasure, Your Highness,” he said. The sound was already breathless, and sounded so beautiful that it hurt.

He stripped you of your clothing with an impossible combination of speed and reverence, each touch against your skin burning with affection. Pushing you fully onto your back, he slithered around you, smooth scales dragging against your increasingly bare skin until you lay cradled in his strong coils. A heavy tail coaxed your legs apart as large hands began mapping a path down your body. They skimmed over your throat and chest, pausing to tease each of your nipples to full hardness, and drifted lower, caressing your waist and stomach, scratching soft patterns onto your hips and buttocks, before landing on your thighs. His cool, clever mouth soon followed. A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss landed above your pulse, then the base of your neck, trailing cold saliva over your shoulders and down your breastbone. You moaned quietly, unbidden, and your back arched up off the bed, eyes fluttering closed. Your world narrowed to sensation: the chill on your skin, the plush mattress underneath you, the smooth rasp of scales around you. Enéas’ hands lovingly massaging your thighs.

Your eyes shot open with a gasp when you felt his mouth close around one of your nipples. You could feel his smile against your skin as he suckled on the hardened nub. A little jolt went through you as those wicked teeth grazed over the delicate skin, your cock twitching where it now lay fully erect on your belly. One of his hands wandered up to play with the flushed head, dipping into the pre-cum pooling under it before raising his hand and licking his fingers clean.

Gripping his chin, you dragged his face up to meet yours. “I believe I told you to prepare me, Enéas.” The way you said his name managed to land somewhere between sweetly teasing and bitterly displeased. “We may be lovers, but I am still a prince. This may have been my mistake, though, maybe I wasn’t clear enough for you.” You pulled him up further, tucking your mouth beside his ear so that you could whisper directly to him. “Prepare me, my love, and do it nice and thorough. After you’re done, you will fuck me, with both cocks, until I can’t speak or until you fill me with your cum. Whichever comes later. Am I understood?”

Enéas smiled, pupils completely dilated, and dipped his head down to kiss you. It was salty and bitter from your pre-cum, with the barest hint of the lime cordial underneath. “As you wish, my prince.”

He sat back and lowered himself so that he was lying on his front between your legs. The coil of his body that had been pressing one of your legs open dug in harder, pulling your thigh even further out, and he threw your other leg over his shoulder to get better access between your cheeks. His big hands dug in and pulled them apart, exposing your tight hole to the air of the room. He breathed over it, pressing wet, biting kisses onto the supple flesh of your ass before slipping his tongue out and running it all the way from your hole to your balls. The long, slender fork in the muscle wrapped around you, almost delicately, spreading cold saliva over your balls and the base of your shaft. The chill was a brief shock against your skin that sent sparks zipping through you, making you drop your head back onto the mattress and forcing your breaths out in stuttering pants.

Enéas continued alternating between licking at your rim, just barely breaching the ring of muscle with the tips of his tongue, and suckling gently at your sac, each motion drawing desperate little noises out of you. It felt wonderful, but it was nowhere near enough. Somewhere in your mind you had a brief argument with yourself about whether it would be worth it to abandon all semblance of power and control that you had in order to grind your hips back on his face. On one hand, you were royalty, even splayed naked on your bed, and you liked to hold onto that for as long as you could. On the other, the feeling of his cool scales and wet, fluttering tongue was very rapidly driving that particular thing down your list of concerns.

All of that was wiped from your mind when you felt the blunt tip of one of Enéas’ fingers, slicked with oil from a vial he must have hidden somewhere on him when he started moving. It circled your hole slowly, deliberately, pressing just inside every so often, coaxing the muscle to loosen with practiced care. You wanted to squirm, to tense up under the teasing touches, but you forced yourself to breathe through it and relax as much as possible. This earned you a raspy noise of approval and a kiss to your sensitive inner thigh from your naga lover.

Seconds later, it also earned you one of his gloriously thick fingers carefully worked all the way inside you. Your back curved off the bed, a quiet moan spilling from your lips. He pumped it in and out a few times, just starting to open you up enough for him to continue. As soon as you relaxed, unconscious fists unclenching from the bedspread, a second finger, thick and wet with oil, joined the first. He twisted the two about inside you. Each motion dragged the subtle ridges of his scales along your inner walls, and when he crooked his knuckles deep inside you, you arched up with a breathless moan.

“Ohhhh, fuck.”

Enéas’ head emerged from between your legs, and he smirked at you as he began scissoring his fingers, stretching your rim, brushing up against the spot of blinding pleasure on every thrust. “Well, Your Royal Highness? Am I pleasing you now?”

“You would be pleasing me more if you got on with it,” you snarked at him. He grinned back at you, the tremor in your voice and the way that your whole body had begun quivering betrayed your pleasure too much for him to ever believe that you were honestly upset.

“As my prince wishes.”

He raised himself so that he was braced overtop of you, and he rubbed the head of his upper dick over your entrance. You hadn’t even noticed him teasing his cocks erect and out of the slit that usually kept them hidden, but it wouldn’t surprise you if that was what he had been doing with his other hand while prepping you. A sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth was the only warning you got before he pushed into you with near-maddening gentleness. His cocks were more slender than the average human’s, but they were longer, and were covered with nubby barbs of flexible cartilage that caught deliciously inside you whenever he pulled back. He started rocking his hips into yours, getting deeper and deeper with each stroke, dick not close to filling you up but the barbs stimulating you plenty all on their own. You moaned slightly each time he drew back, cock leaking even more pre-cum between your bodies. Waiting until he was fully seated inside you, body flush against your ass, he began gently massaging your hole, the muscle already stretched tight around him. He moved his fingers in sync with his shallow thrusts, slowly but surely opening your hole enough for him to slip his second cock inside.

You were moaning even more loudly now, shuddering noises of pleasure leaving your lips every time Enéas fucked into you or pressed in on your entrance. His finger disappeared from your skin briefly after a particularly rough thrust left you panting and teary-eyed. You whined at the loss, wriggling further back on his dick. Another rough drive of his hips sent your back arching painfully, mouth dropping open as his index finger slipped into you alongside his shaft.

“Nngg, ah-- fuck, so-oo good,” you mewled.

Enéas started fucking into you with even more ferocity, making your whole body move every single time his hips slammed into your ass. Your cock slapped up onto your stomach with an obscenely wet sound, and left wet smears of clear fluid on your skin each time it hit you. The sounds coming out of you were starting to sound desperate, morphing from regular moans of pleasure to pitiful little whimpers and gasps. You were so overwhelmed by the way that his cock reached so deep inside you and caught so gloriously coming back out that you didn’t even notice a second fingertip tease your rim. You didn’t notice it until the smoothly scaled digit thrust into you alongside his first one. The feeling of it, the stretch of your rim definitely painful now, ripped a shattered cry from you.

Your whole body was tensed up, chest heaving with panting breaths. “Oh shit. Enéas, I’m going to…”

The hand he had been using to hold himself above you darted downwards and locked in a tight ring around the base of your steadily leaking cock. The crescendo quickly building in the pit of your stomach was stopped in its tracks, and you wailed at the blocking of your orgasm. Enéas smirked wickedly at you before lowering his mouth to graze lightly over one of your nipples.

“Patience, little prince,” he chided, “Just hold on a little longer, and you can cum on both of my cocks.”

Each word he spoke was punctuated by him driving his barbed shaft into you and scissoring his fingers wider and wider. Somewhere in the haze of your almost-climax he had stuck a third finger into your hole, and all of them were now stretching you out as far as you could go. His big arms wrapped around your back and he aggressively hoisted you upwards, forcing you to wrap your legs around his body. He slipped his fingers out of you, and almost immediately his lower cock replaced it. The shaft was thicker, the head a little more bulbous, and it filled you up so wonderfully next to his other one. Once he was fully seated, he went still to let you get used to the intense stretch inside of you. You tried to wriggle about in his arm to get him even deeper inside of you, but he used both arms to grip you tight to his body, keeping you still. That mouth of his kept lovingly licking over your chest, going slack to let saliva leak out over his lips and onto your skin.

With a firm grip on your hips and an almost painful amount of care, Enéas lifted you up until only the heads of his dicks remained inside of you. Realizing what he was about to do, you stopped writhing in his grasp, relaxing as much as the position allowed. He hissed a thanks into the thin skin above your breastbone. A slight shift of his weight so that all of his coils lay firmly beneath him, and he lowered you almost all the way down onto him. He pressed sweet kisses to the base of your sternum, then each of your nipples, then to the side of your throat. Settling his face into the warm crook of your neck, he began to raise and lower your along his shafts, using your body to fuck himself to completion.

This new position made his cocks reach impossibly deeper inside of you, spines rubbing against that sweet spot with each stroke. You dropped your head forward against Enéas’ shoulder, moaning loudly. With his previous fierce grip on your tortured cock gone, you felt your orgasm begin to build again. Clear pre-cum dripped out of your slick head and smeared between your bodies. He kept bouncing you on him, breath coming out ragged against your neck as he chased after his own climax.

“Holy shit-- that’s so good…”

Your mouth hung open as heat bubbled up in your gut. You tried to warn Enéas again, but all that came out was a strangled gasp of his name before you were cumming between your bodies with a cry. His sharp mouth curved into a grin pressed into the skin of your shoulder as you went boneless in his arms. He kept driving your body down onto himself mercilessly, paying no mind to your limp form. Your eyes filled with tears and drool leaked from your slackened jaw as you were driven to complete overstimulation from him using your body.

“Mmmmhh-hngg....AH!” You moaned desperately, squirming in his arms, trying to get away from the feeling of his cocks inside you that was quickly starting to get painful. Your hole was fluttering erratically around him, and the grip that Enéas had on your hips stuttered, betraying how close he was.

“My prince, I’m…” he managed to grunt out before he pulled you all the way onto his cocks and came inside of you, clutching your body close to his.

His twin dicks twitched against your sensitive walls as thick white cum spilled inside of you. You wailed at the sensation, your own spent cock trying fruitlessly to twitch erect again. Enéas held you against him for several minutes, catching his breath, before he carefully lifted you off of him and laid you down on the now-soiled sheets. The spines on his shafts caught on your puffy rim as he pulled out, making you wince. Your belly was still sticky from your own orgasm, and gobs of Enéas’s cum leaked from your hole, making you feel even filthier. You were completely and utterly fucked-out and content as you lay there in a warm stupor. Cold lips kissed away tears that you hadn’t noticed had fallen, and a hand rubbed comforting circles into the back of your neck. He shifted his body to wrap around you in heavy coils that felt safe and warm, despite his cold blood. You stayed there, cradled against his familiar body, being covered in soft kisses and soothing caresses, until the shaky aftershocks of both of your climaxes dissipated. Once they had, you curled onto your side so that you could nuzzle your face into his scaly neck,

“So?” Enéas whispered into your ear, peppering the side of your face with affectionate pecks. “Did I please you, my prince?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, nibbling on his jaw slightly. “You absolutely did, beloved.”

#monster fucker #monster lover #exophilia #terato #monster x human #naga #tw crying #smut #nsft #minors do not interact #terfs dont fucking touch #seriously if i see a fucking terf i'll fight you #bigots dni

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robyn-goodfellowe · 7 months

Text

does anyone want to take turns exploding into pieces and listening to koethe with me

#LOST HOPE IN A MOMENT OF NEED. LOCKED DOWN IN A PATTERNT HATS GOT ME RUNNING ROUND RUNNING ROUND RUNNING ROUND #OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN #WITH MY HEAD IN THE SAND YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT WHEN I SAID #ITS OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND #BURNT OUT AND IM BEREFT #THIS WORLD HAS NOTHING LEFT HERE #WE COULD RUN TOGETHER #RUN RUN RUN FOREVER #BLACK HOLES AND DYING SUNS (wtf twtt reference)#THIS WORLD IS ALL BUT DONE FOR #WE COULD RUN TOGETHER. RUN RUN RUN FOREVER #koetheposting

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nocturne-pisces · 3 years

Text

Pisces Sun (1)

A/N: this is for @fuckandfluff ‘s 2K Thot Shit Challenge - my prompt was “I’m sure them other girls were nice enough, but you need someone to spice it up.” - Girls Like You (Maroon 5 ft. Cardi B). Lines inspired by the song are bolded. This work doesn’t have any thot shit in it, but if it tracks I might write a follow up with another song.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 3.6k (ahaha whoops)

Warnings: uh, this is mostly just angsty dumbasses in love, but also like cursing I guess and mentions of sex. this is not canon compliant.

Masterlist

Tony had foregone his usual oversized crystal chandelier in the ballroom of the compound. He had it taken down in favor of something more subtle, yet exponentially more beautiful.

Tonight’s charity banquet theme was ‘Under the Stars’. Impossibly, intensely dark blue fabric paneling hung, billowing from the ceiling in different shades. A conceptualized version of the same sky outside the front doors. Through that fabric, hung on what you could only assume was fishing wire, were the smallest yellow tinged LED lights, blinking softly. And if you squinted just right, you were pretty sure that you could see the big dipper.

Tony had declared that it was a black tie affair, plates were 500$ a piece, and all of the proceeds were going towards the Sokovia Restoration Program.

As an Avenger that had been there when it was blown to pieces, seeing the families displaced first hand, you’d bought twenty plates and invited the local children’s choir. When Pepper found out what you’d done she’d cornered you in the office and reminded you that it wasn’t your fault. You had done what you had to put an end to Ultron and Tony had felt bad enough about that to donate quite a few million dollars to begin with.

You had to remind Pepper that everything you needed was provided for you by them. There was nothing you needed that you didn’t have. Going without play money for a few months was nothing compared to what these families were missing. You just wished you had enough time off between missions to go back and help rebuild, even though you weren’t entirely sure the people of Sokovia wanted to see you.

Tonight, though, you decided to give yourself a break from the guilt. Your therapist had agreed that it was a good idea. The world could always be saved tomorrow, but tonight you could just live in your own.

Enter Bucky Barnes. He always felt like the orbiting moon. Always there, always beautiful, but always just out of reach. Whether by choice or circumstance, you couldn’t decipher. He kept his distance and you let him have it, fearing any kind of tryst formed by overstepping.

But you couldn’t help the way your eyes lingered over the corner of his jaw, sliding down over the tendon in his neck and following the curve of his collar bone just under his sweaty t-shirt after he got done sparring with Steve.

Your room was just down the hall from his. He lived between Steven and you. Between the sun and the void. After you watched one too many walks of shame leave his apartment, you’d decided that wasn’t a trajectory you wanted for a relationship between you and him. You didn’t want to be a comet; seen once burning bright against the night sky and then never seen again.

How were you expected to resist those supernova irises when their gravity threatened to swallow you whole every time he made eye contact during a briefing? You were only human. How were you expected to fight feelings for someone that, like the moon, you couldn’t physically touch? It was like wanting to know what the Aurora Borealis tasted like. It made no sense but your mouth watered anyway.

So you stuffed it all down. Let it implode in your chest like a dying star and went about your life like there wasn’t a black hole sucking your heart into oblivion. And that’s how it had stayed for two years. After a while it got the slightest bit easier, but there were still moments that felt like re-entering earth’s atmosphere and burning alive.

As much as you just wanted to have a good time and let go -- tonight was one of those reentering the atmosphere moments.

You first started to feel the fragmenting combustion when you entered the ballroom, a flowy silver satin dress falling over your form effortlessly, and you spotted him over by the tables. He wore his long hair half up to keep it out of his face, even though there was always that errant lock that escaped and fell over the sharp peak of his cheekbone. You followed that lock of hair down his jawline, scruffed but well trimmed, and then down the column of his neck.

His dress shirt was black, a silk tie laid neatly over the buttons and tucked into his blazer. As you neared the table to greet the rest of your teammates you caught the design on his tie, it was subtle in design but unmistakable to you. You’d spent enough time on the team that you knew his birthday was March 10th and, therefore, knew the constellation stitched into his tie was that of Pisces.

Pisces; a water sign. Selfless and compassionate. Deep as the ocean, endlessly empathetic, and incredibly intuitive.

But if all of that was true, how could he not feel how your heart shattered when you saw the woman on his arm? You had no right to feel any kind of way about the women he brought to the compound. You hadn’t so much as hinted at your feelings for him. Retaining your silence, leaving rooms when he entered them, keeping your conversation to a minimum during briefings and debriefings. All so you could keep yourself from being confronted with the truth by the man that you were in love with.

That you would never and could never be good enough.

Steve detected your approach first, flashing an award winning smile and giving you a once over.

“Well if it isn’t the North Star herself.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, that is the cheesiest shit you’ve ever said to me.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you nearly saw the next dimension, but the heat that crawled up the back of your neck and into your cheeks betrayed you. Getting this kind of attention in front of Bucky made your stomach do flips.

Sam was the next to pipe up, “Aw, come on. We never get to see you dressed up. Your tac suit does you no justice. S’not our fault you look damn good.”

“Sam!” Your hand flew to cover your mouth, desperately trying to cover the shade of red that was painting across your face.

“Alright alright, let up. You know she gets weird about compliments,” Nat called, waving off the boy's protests before taking you by the arm and steering you towards the bar and away from your own personal hell.

You ordered your usual rum and coke and Nat ordered a martini, extra dirty. When the bartender brought your drinks back you took a long sip, letting out a contented sigh as you felt the sharp edges of embarrassment dull.

“Ugh, thank god, I need a drink after that. I hate it when they do that.”

“You sure that’s why you need a drink?”

You whipped your head around, your eyebrows knitting themselves together as you met Natasha’s gaze.

“Nat, I don’t know what you’re--”

“Oh please,” she chided, “everyone knows how you feel about Barnes except for Barnes. Fuckin’ idiot.” You felt like your stomach had opened a wormhole and it was draining all of the color out of your face.

“Everyone?”

“Except Barnes. That's why the boys do that compliment shit, they’re trying to remove Bucky’s head from his ass, get him to realize he might get something real with you instead of bringing home every hussy in the tri-city area just to kick them out in the morning.”

The only thing you could think to do was stare into your drink, the idea of something real with Bucky flashing images across your mind's eye that you had locked away a long time ago. The image of Bucky wrapped around you while you stood at the stove cooking dinner, of Bucky asleep on your lap in the quinjet after a mission, of his body atop yours while you pull each other apart at the seams.

“You have to talk to him.” Nat’s words crashed into you like an asteroid, carving a landing ditch of fear and nausea across your face.

“Y-you know I can’t do that,” you plead, shaking your head violently.

Natasha leaned close to you, holding your line of sight with a dangerous intensity. “Then you’ll always wonder what it’ll be like to be loved by him, and you’ll watch him search for that love in the girls he brings home. Until one day, he finds it with someone that isn’t you.”

“Nat, please…” you croaked, your throat raw from unshed tears.

“No, you need to hear this. I’m sure those other girls were nice enough, but he needs someone to spice it up. To make him feel alive again. And from where Sam, Steve, and I are sitting. He needs a girl like you. Talk to him by the end of the party, or I will.” She left a quick kiss on your cheek before she picked up her drink and walked away.

You gaped after her as she left you in pieces at the bar.

And just like that, the concept of having a fun night blasted off into the endless void of space.

On the other side of the room, or maybe on the other side of the universe, Bucky was becoming painfully aware of the sweat trickling down his back. He was too dressed up. He was wearing too many layers of too many constricting clothes and he was pretty sure he was suffocating.

And then you walked up to the table in that dress and he felt the vacuum of space steal the air from his lungs. His date, Melanie, who also happened to be his counselor, noticed the way that Bucky’s knuckles turned white on the hem of his jacket from the strain of not turning to look at you.

She had agreed to go to the benefit with him on a purely platonic basis because she thought it would be a good idea for him to have a night out and he said that he would go out if she was there as moral support.

Melanie also read the heartbreak in your face when your eyes razed over where hers was laid in the dip of Bucky's arm. It wasn’t difficult for her to put two and two together. You must have been the one he spent so much time talking about during his sessions. The one he tortured himself over. The one he said he didn’t deserve but couldn’t let go of.

Melanie had been telling him for months to just talk to you, just say hello. You have to start somewhere, James, even if it’s just a discussion about the weather. But he was too chickenshit to do anything. It was different when it was some girl in some bar and he didn’t care about how he looked when he told them he just wanted a release for the night.

It was different because he knew that if you spent the night with him under the stars, he wouldn’t want you to disappear with them when the sun rose, and that was something that he’d never felt before.

When it came to Bucky’s fears, Hydra didn’t even hold a candle to what your solar flare smile did to his heart. It terrified him into inaction.

She also saw the way that Bucky’s jaw set, teeth gnashing behind his fake smile, because his friends had started going on about how beautiful you were. She could see him beating himself up, about how it should be him calling you beautiful, how it should be him twirling you, how it should be him with his fingertips on the satin of your dress.

And then Nat took you to the bar and his gaze fell to his feet. The vast expanse of nothing returning behind his eyes as he drowned in his own self loathing.

Melanie took Bucky to the dance floor, where she could have this conversation with him in private without being seen leaving the room with him. His left hand fell respectfully in the middle of her back, holding the other with his right as they waltzed to some modern slow song that Bucky didn’t know.

“So you’re just going to let her get away like that?”

Bucky opened his mouth to reply, closing it again when he couldn’t find anything to say.

“You realize that one day she’s going to give up. You’re going to keep ignoring her and she’s going to find love in someone else, and you’re going to spend the rest of your life wondering what a love with her would have looked like. You got what the vast majority of people will never get in this life, a second chance. And you’re barely alive. You live one day to the next wasting time when you could have a genuine connection.”

Bucky stopped swaying, his eyes closing while he felt the weight of her words sink onto his chest, cracking his ribs one by one.

“Mel, she doesn’t want a guy like me, I’m too-- crazy.”

Melanie drew a deep breath, feeling the frayed edges at the end of her patience.

“James, I’m going to stop being your counselor for a second and be your friend, because you need to hear this, and I mean with all of the respect in my heart. For 104 years old, you are quite possibly one of the biggest idiots I have ever met.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide, taking half a step back. She held onto the lapel of his jacket so he couldn’t rocket away from her.

“I have listened to this shit for the last time. You don’t get to decide for her what she wants. You don’t even see how she looks at you. You tell her by the end of the party, or I will.”

“Isn’t that like illegal or something?”

Melanie shrugged. She didn’t have a normal clientele. She was employed directly by Fury and worked out of the SHIELD offices.

“You might be able to make a case for unprofessional, but good luck getting Fury to do anything about it.” She leaned up and left a quick kiss on his cheek before retreating to the table. Her boyfriend, Sam, opened his arms to her and after a few moments they excused themselves for the night.

Bucky watched as they retreated, standing in the middle of the dance floor, seething.

Natasha walked up to him then, playfully punching his arm. “You okay, Barnes?”

He turned to her before looking back to Sam and Melanie. Before the couple got out of the door, Sam turned and winked, Bucky assumed it was because his girl had bested the super soldier.

Back at the bar you were throwing back your third rum and coke, trying to drown the way that it felt like the weight of the moon was crashing into your chest. Natasha couldn’t have been serious. Your own best friend threatened to out you to Bucky, to expose the way your heart soared like a shooting star every time you stood too close to him.

You couldn’t be in this room any longer. The heat of all the bodies around you made you feel like you were standing on the sun. When you turned towards the door you saw Sam leaving with Bucky’s date, looking way too affectionate. You stood there confused as Sam winked at someone in the crowd, but it was quickly followed by the feeling of the axis of the earth shifting as you realized that Bucky was no longer with a date at this event.

You swore your heart rate hit light speed as you thought about going to find him, asking him to dance and confessing all the feelings you had for him. But before you could go through with it your feet carried you out to the gardens and into the cool night. You closed your eyes and laced your fingers over your head and willed fresh air to enter your lungs, an ache settling in your ribs with how hard you were fighting to breathe normally.

When you opened your eyes again, you looked up to the night sky. Even through the light pollution you could see the North Star, and the little star off to the right that always accompanied it. You knew what it felt like to be that star. The one that’s just a little dimmer, a little offset, the one that was never noticed first and discussed even less.

You wrapped your arms around your middle and sat on a bench willing gravity to disappear so you could float away. So you wouldn’t have to watch as Nat told Bucky how you felt, because you sure as shit weren’t going to do it. You weren’t going to let him reject you to your face. You’d let Nat do it so you could pretend it wasn’t real the next day.

The terrace doors swung open behind you, revealing none other than the man in the moon himself. Ethereal and staring directly at you. His face was twisted with anxiety, and your stomach plummeted. Nat had told him, you were sure she had, and he had come to tell you that he wasn’t interested. Flattered, maybe, but not interested.

The way that nausea crawled over your features, Bucky would swear that Melanie beat him too you. And you would tell him the same.

Standing from the bench, you took a few paces towards Bucky, swallowing hard when you heard the doors latch behind him. You both started speaking at the same time.

“Bucky, I’m so sorry--”

“Listen, I know what Melanie told you--”

Silence fell, anxiety and nausea wiped away and replaced by confusion. Bucky was the first to speak, because you were pretty sure that if you opened your mouth the only thing that was going to come out were the drinks you’d had.

“I’m so sorry about Melanie, this wasn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

You assumed Melanie was his date, but you hadn’t spoken to her. You shook your head softly. What were you not supposed to find out? What was he supposed to tell you that he believed his friend had?

“Melanie didn’t talk to you?” Bucky’s eyebrows cemented together under the worried wrinkles in his forehead.

“I’m assuming that Melanie is your date, and if so; no, I haven’t spoken a word to her.”

“Uhh, Melanie is Sam’s girlfriend...and my counselor.”

“Oh.” Your eyes dropped to where you were worrying your hands together, the heat of Bucky’s gaze on you threatening to turn the core in your chest molten hot. You looked back up at him. His mouth was hanging open, dumbstruck like you’d just caught him in something terrible.

“Did Nat talk to you?”

He closed his mouth and shook his head. Bucky pulled his shaking hands out of his pockets, tucking the errant strand of hair behind his ear.

“I--”

You had started to say something, but before you could get anything noteworthy Bucky felt everything click into place. He realized then that Sam wasn’t winking at him.

He had been winking at Natasha.

“I think we’ve been set up.”

“What do you mean?”

Bucky realized that if were to explain his theory, he would inevitably have to tell you everything. His heart hammering away and his hands sweating he threw all caution to the wind and just decided to come out with it.

“Melanie is my counselor. I talk about you a lot during my sessions and she agreed to come with me tonight as moral support because I don’t go out usually. I guess when she saw how I reacted to Sam and Steve fawning over you, she’d decided she had enough of my shit. She told me that if I didn’t confess I was in love with you by the end of the night she was going to tell you herself.”

Bucky’s face felt hot with embarrassment, waiting for the rejection that was coming his way. The silence lasted long enough for him to look up at you. This particular solar flare smile singed it’s imprint into his heart, scarring it’s permanence.

What followed was the star twinkle of your laughter and he swore this is what it looked like to see a star explode up close.

“Oh, Bucky,” you groaned, taking the deepest breath you’d taken in two years.

“‘Oh, Bucky’ good? Or ‘Oh, Bucky’ bad?” He asked as he wildly searched your face for clues on how he was supposed to feel right now, though he didn’t have to wait for his answer for too long. You closed the gap between the two of you at warp speed, coming to stand only inches from him.

“‘Oh, Bucky’ as in I’ve been in love with you for two years and Natasha threatened to expose me if I didn’t tell you tonight.”

The moment you got the words out you felt planets crashing together as his lips crashed into yours. His hands found purchase against your cheek, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck as his metal hand held you impossibly close to him. You fisted his silk tie and tangled your digits in the hair at the base of his skull.

Of all the colors you’d ever seen of the milky way, you believe that the ones bursting behind your eyelids as you felt Bucky’s tongue dance with yours were more beautiful.

While you didn’t have a hand in helping hang the stars in the compound ballroom, when you and Bucky came up for air, he looked at you like you hung the ones in the sky shining down on the pair of you now.

And for a fleeting moment you understood what it must feel like when new universes exploded into existence.

Drop a line in my inbox and let me know what you think? This is the first full length Marvel fic I've written, so... *upside down smiley face emoji*

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 3 years

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Infected/Undead Boyfriend (Ryan Chen) 3 (FINALE)

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Part 1 - Part 2

Warning: some language. Long chapter ahead!

When It Rains, It Pours Part 3 (FINALE)

It was always raining in November-– or was it now December?

It was hard to tell: the rain had turned harder and harsher, solid ice and snow fell across what was desolate and overgrown lands, where the city life grew smaller, a distant reminder that they still hung in an area. The coating of snow grew harsher the more the days passed, and bitter was its storms and winds to you and your surroundings.

How you managed to get out before losing yourself was an amazement to you and those of your rescuers.

"Hey, five minutes before we depart—you good?"

You blinked lazily, back to the surrounding sounds that were not of the dead crawling and walking on the grounds, of laughter and joy that you had missed and forgotten the sounds of. You remembered where you were: the warmth of the fire spreading across your limbs as you looked up from the floor, a hand in reach for you to take.

Justin was the first and the only one you had really spoken and befriended who wasn't a relative to you, a friend you shared rum and morbid chats with when the two of you were on night duties, staring up at nothing by the sky. He was cute: brown hair and eyes, pretty smile, but he was just another hole filled.

'Okay, okay, humour me with this,' He asked you when the blizzard was raging outside of your camp, the howling winds rattling against the iron doors. 'If you could take anyone with you, in the world, where would you go and with who?'

There was only one name that came to mind that night, the lines of your face creasing as you smiled sadly. 'You'll have to let me think about that one.'

"You good, tiger?" You took his hand as he hauled you up to your feet, dusting away the snow from your worn jeans. "You seem... out of it. You can tell me, I can get someone else to do this if you're not feeling up to it."

"No, it's fine, I'll be out in five." There was a haunting, dreadful pause from Justin, observing you silently when time didn't seem to go any faster, before he nodded, heading out of the hall, his distant figure fading through the groups of crowds waiting.

You gathered your things slowly, fumbling with the leather jacket, dipping your fingers into the deep pockets, fumbling with the smooth edge of the card still occupying it. Never did it seem to lose its feel, thankfully. Get a grip on yourself. You sighed, securing your knife into your boot. Three years... three fucking years and you still mourn.

The snow had settled once you had been brave to face it, crunching satisfyingly under your boots each step you took to the stables, waiting there was Justin and a few others you didn't take time in memorising their names.

"You ready?" Justin asked, strapping more ammo into his backpack. "Help yourself to some more. Heard there's infected up north from here roaming. Potentially they could come down."

"Yeah, thanks." You grabbed a large bar, stuffing it away before paying attention to the black stead you had named Diamond. "Hey, girl. Ready to stretch those legs?"

The beauty snorted almost in reply, a genuine smile gracing your features when you had clamoured up, mentally and physically preparing yourself for the arduous journey that would take place. An hour away from the Jackson base was the Crow's Nest: the barren hub used to scout the area, to keep eye on roaming hordes.

"The snow has settled, but with it, the dead grow. Watch out for yourselves, keep close to the path and don't stray." Justin gave final warnings before you all set off, the large electric gates of the once well-known powerplant creaked open, a vast, vicious cold greeted you the moment you stepped out.

The journey left you frozen and missing the heat from indoors, reminding yourself why you had gone out in the first place was to get away from everyone, but now you had dearly missed the sweet sight of civilisation creeping back to normal. I can be back and everything will be fine. You told yourself, and you foolishly believed it.

When you finally arrived, there were little dead who had managed to get through the other side of the pen, and taking them out was no issue. The base on top was all but a cosy place: desolate, reeking of decay and too cold. When you finally reached the windows that showcased the cast white outside, did you finally breathe out in somewhat respite.

"See that out there, that's the city you came from, right?" Justin pointed out to what looked like nowhere, but even where the sky and snow met with vast starkness, there was still an outline of a desolate and barren city, broken and crumbling skyscrapers still reaching to the chilling sky.

It was miles out, you realised, but the routes out were like a maze on its own.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of going in there for fun?" You asked, the man beside you rolling his eyes exasperatedly. "You would have to be fucking insane to want to go back in there."

"Even so, what kept you sane?"

The name you so missed to say was on the tip of your tongue, memories that swept through your mind nearly brought you to tears. Maybe, in some reality, the two of you could've been that couple, living out your days in a decaying city, filled with dead, going down as the world would never miss you. But in some ways, it was for the good. You blinked the tears away before any could fall.

"Faith, a hell of a lot of it." The winter sun was dead as well as the last of those memories. "I'm done with it, done for good."

In the distance, when the snow settled quietly, a dull, thunderous cry, followed with the faint sounds of bangs going off, a chorus that never seemed to quieten, only did its cries grow louder and louder, until-

"Infected have made their way into the bunker!"

You turned with Justin in surprise, the thuds of gunshots and its chambers thudded in time with your heartbeat, rousing the adrenaline as you moved like clockwork to make your way back down, back into the darkened, gloomy hallways so narrow it barely fitted enough, but now stood with both humans and dead.

Even war has never looked like this. There were bodies already, a mixture of dead taken down and those who had fallen, bleeding to the ground in puddles, eyes frozen and bodies stiff. "Come with me down to the east wing." Justin guided you away from the onslaught, away from the crowded corridors as the two of you run further away from the noises.

"You know how many they'll be?" You rasped, trying to steady your breathing, the grip on your knife straining your fingers.

"I don't know," Justin answered. "But whatever you do, don't think recklessly. You're a strong fighter, so don't think about dying."

"I could say the same with you." You stopped when you stopped outside the double doors, slightly ajar and smeared blood wiped across the handles and door. "You ready?"

No. You thought. I don't even want to be here. "Yes."

The door was opening wider before you could realise: the noise loud and shrilled, as were the following, inhumane cries and shrieks that followed. Through the darkness of the room: the boiler room, you could see, maybe four or five dead, twitching and grotesque.

And two of them charging towards you both.

Justin made light work of the largest one, leaving you to deal with the other, all snarling and baring its mangled, blackened teeth. You reared back as it did too, causing you to collapse into the wall but not fall, supporting yourself and keeping its head from coming any closer to the flesh of your face or neck.

You struggled for what felt like forever, until you kicked it as far away from you, shoving it into Justin's grip as you charged, using your knife to lodge it into the jellied head, one final cry came before its head slumped, black blood seeping through.

"Good job," Justin let it drop against the wall. "A bit quieter would've been better though."

"Yeah, thanks though." You caught your breath, iron in your throat when you exhaled, feeling like knives stabbing you a thousand times, not helping with the cold of the room. "Shall we continue onwards?"

"We could take down the rest of these- Hey, watch out!"

You turned in time to hear the raucous grunt of something collide into the side of you, causing you to stumble, crashing into the boiler behind you, the wind knocked from you with such force, your vision dotted. "Shit!" Justin shouted from the darkness, and you could hear the struggle, gunshots and more animalistic roars. "Justin! Are you okay?"

"Go! I'll distract it!" You heard his retreating voice, the heavy footsteps follow before you had time to catch the large creature leave, a dreadful smell of mildew and rotting flesh filled your nostrils, almost making you gag.

"Fuck." You grunted to stand, head dizzy, aware that the noises and clicks were coming from the rest of the dead in the surrounding area you shared with them. "Shit!" Quickly, you picked up the blade fallen, dodging the remaining dead as you continued in a haze through to the back of the room, hopping over the wall to get through to the bunker. The sounds of the dead never faltered, sounding all around you and nowhere at all, limbs shaking, clothes drenched not with water.

I'm going to die, I'm going to die—I'm fucked, I'm fucked. You tried to keep moving, but you kept running into dead ends and parts cornered off, leading you to believe that there would be no way of escaping.

Something scampered in your peripheral, large and skinny, you braced for the worst when its shadowed body crawled around in the dark, closer and closer. You pulled your gun out, trying to steady your breathing and keep an eye on it. It didn't move like any of the other dead—perhaps a new one you weren't aware of.

You decided to try and take a shot, the bullet ricocheting off a pipe and exploding with gas, letting out and creating a thick, never-ending mist that you found hard in trying to see through. There was the sound of shoes scraping against the floor, someone running towards you and grabbing you, and you screamed, their face guarded as you tried fighting them off you, away from the floor so they wouldn't have full control over you.

Your fingers gripped the gun, reminding yourself to not let go of it, and you finally- after some struggle- kicked the creature in the stomach, letting it stumble back as you finally tried to take another shot.

In the mist that was fading slowly as you tried to focus, the legs of the figure finally appeared, a full body appearing like someone of a horror film, head turned from you as you squinted to whatever was standing in front of you, your time to take the shot faltering.

"Ryan?"

The lithe humanoid figure was as dishevelled as you could recall once he twisted his torso to look back on you. A distant memory that floated in your mind, of peace and tranquillity, it now stood in front of you as some bitter, warped illusion. He was everything you remembered of him, the same clothes but now wearing a different jacket to the one you still wore in honour, his hair seemed longer, more messy and unkempt, strands pulled out from the bun, guarding his soft, unsteady dark eyes. He looked thinner from the last, a walking apparition whose skin was washed pale and bruised black and blue, his cheeks hollowed and eyebags darkened.

"Oh, god," the grip on the trigger loosened shakily, eyes dotting with sudden tears. "It's you, isn't it? I'm not fucking dream, am I?"

The man didn't seem responsive at first, playing into the belief he was some sort of hallucination after all, but his mouth opened, a quiet voice answering. "Yes, it's me."

The noise that left your parted lips was shaky and warbled, a string of tears flowing down your cheeks when everything slowly fell apart. "Why," your words were twisted and you fumbled clumsily. "Why... why did you leave?"

He was silent, the hard struggle in understanding what he was thinking. He seems… ashamed. You thought, watching his shifting eyes. You watched the pain that didn’t seem to be hidden beyond his eyes, even when he spoke. “… You belonged with them, not me.”

“How would you know that? I—you could’ve come with me, Ryan. We’re an open community, we can help you-”

“No,” his voice was strained, his eyes more red than usual. “I can’t be fixed.” He lifted his black t-shirt, the skin bruised as his face had been, inflamed and almost maimed. “I was bitten.”

“But you didn’t turn.”

“No,” his smile was soft, downturned. “Perhaps turning would’ve been the better option. But I live with these decisions. You need people, not me.”

“Ryan,” you took a hesitant step towards him, still, the tears fell. “Do you know I still think about you? Even after all these years.”

“No,” he laughed silently, his eyes glassy and cold. “I did too. A lot.”

“Please, please come with me. I promise you, we can help you—we could fix you.”

Ryan watched, not showing signs of moving away from you as you slowly made your way to him, outreaching your hand for him to hold. Just… just to hold once more, to feel him again. How you craved it like it was a lifeline.

“I—I can’t describe how I’m feeling right now.” His words were hushed when you were close to him, feeling his breath fan against your wet cheeks. “You don’t have to describe anything,” you murmured. “Just… let it happen.”

He leant into you first, his lips were warm and memories swarmed in your mind like you were drowning. His being, his smell: so sweet and inviting, your memories were swelling and rising, bringing a feeling of levitating, back to a time when you felt loved and needed. Back in his arms in an excluded room, forgotten altogether but in each other’s arms.

When you pulled away, he leant his forehead against yours, warm and damp from cold. “I missed you so.” He muttered softly. You had so many thoughts, too many emotions that everyone argued with things they wanted to say before the other. But the same thing was in your mind, replaying over and over again.

It plagued you, as you took his hand into your own, squeezing as if your life depended on it. “Ryan, I-”

Your words were there, masked and clipped from the noise that came from in front of you, a large reverberating noise that was sharp and rung, smoke appearing as Ryan stumbled forward, allowing you to catch him. He was limp, colder than usual and not from the cold. He was shaking, muttering something in a quiet, weak voice, but you couldn’t hear him, even when you flipped him carefully, seeing his mouth open and close, you looked up in time to witness the devastated eyes of someone you wanted to forget.

“Get away from it,” Justin’s words were followed by him stepping closer between the two of you, gripping your shoulder. “You’re lucky I came in time. I heard gunshots, I got worried-”

“You shot him.” You weakly said, frozen and still holding Ryan, the grip on him still tight and there for him to know you were still holding onto him, keeping him safe.

Justin seemed as confused as he tried lifting you off the ground, “I’m trying to help you, that thing-”

“Stop it. Stop it!” You swatted his hand away sharply, reaching around to hold and stabilise Ryan, the shot to his stomach was bleeding profusely, soaking through your fingertips. “He’s dying, he’s fucking dying.”

“Hey, hey, what—” he said your name, shaking you out of the breakdown. “It’s infected—look at me, what do you mean?”

“I love him, Justin! I know him, I know him! Ryan Chen, he’s not one of them!” You were blubbering and muttering constantly before your eyes landed on Justin’s, wild and red and sore. “Help me, please, I can’t lose him again.”

Justin hesitated once more, before he urged himself forward, peeling the heavy bag from his back to bring out the gauze and wrappings, whilst you sat and remained rigid, and you wished you could’ve stayed where you had been, to begin with.

You noticed now, how quiet things could be when you were left with just your thoughts, alone in the world when you pushed so many away. Your fingers were knotted together tightly, wrung together in a tangle when you fidgeted, nothing to distract you from the unknown time ticking.

“Hey, you’re the girlfriend of “Ryan”?”

You looked up to the woman who had come through to greet you in the small waiting room, blinking away your thoughts to be back with the present. “Yeah, yes… how is he doing?”

“He just came out of surgery and is in a stable condition.” Relief was one of the emotions you were feeling, but it was hard to explain anything else at that moment. “You can go in to see him shortly.”

“Thank you.” A gentle hand pressed into your shoulder, squeezing encouragingly. “Hey, he’s gonna be okay. He seems strong.”

“He is,” you uttered sadly. “He’s a fighter.”

“Ryan! Take it easy! We’ve got all night!”

Your laughter was bubbling, easy and light, as you were led down the long path, where the trees grew in size and foliage, grew thickest, hiding your bodies as you ran beneath the moonlight. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“We’re almost there.” He was not as out of breath as you had been, but his smile was bright and blooming, skin radiant as if he was reborn. “I’m not dragging you back to get more stitches.” The two of you stopped eventually, continuing at a brisk pace until you reached the end of the hill, watching over the once city the two of you had resided in, distant yet glooming.

“It… it still looks like shit as I remember it to be.” You exhaled, looking over Ryan from your right side. “That place still holds a lot to remember, don’t you think? The outbreak, the deaths, the burning of bodies.”

“I got to meet you.”

“You did,” you squeezed his hand encouragingly. “After I fell through the ceiling. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You shared a laugh, all thoughts aside when you stared across the distance. That city did hold some darkness and pain to you, but you knew that you would get out of there, not as one, but as two.

#zombie boyfriend #zombie apocalypse #zombie apocolypse au #Modern Monsters #infected boyfriend #infected boyfriend x reader #infected monster exophilia #monster exophilia #gn reader #gn reader x male monster #monster lover #male monster #infected monster x gn reader #part 3 #finale

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yandere-wishes · 3 years

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MONSTERS

👹 Yandere Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

👹Summary: Monsters aren’t born they're made, but Sukuna stumbles across the rare exception...

👹Warning: dehumanization, mention of gore, blood, slight dub-con mentioned in passing, death, past trauma, and abuse

👹 Edited: By the lovely @tealyjade-libran !

👹 Wordcount: 2,480

👹Alternative Tittle : If Roxanne ( from the Police song) lived in ancient Japan.

👹First Jujutsu kaisen fic! I hope you guys like it, please let me know your thoughts! Likes and reblogs appreciated!

Monsters were made.

Slowly created as once blazing ideals, withered and died under harsh strokes of reality. Stitched together with broken promises and the ashes of rotting memories.

Monsters were made

whisked into a role they once dreaded, once feared. Beaten into the role of the villain, the reprobate, the sinner.

If anyone ever asked Sukuna when was the exact moment he turned his back on the laws of "good" and "evil", shedding his human skin to regrow a pelt of hate and destruction,

He would simply answer, "Never".

Because skin is skin no matter how much it decays. Even if the epidermis turns into a rotting orange shade, littered with eyeballs and teeth that shouldn't grow there.Even if the blood from all those he's slain has finally stained his dermis, tainting it in a permanent crimson that all the waters of Lake Biwa could never wash off. Even if his hypodermis is no longer made of fatty tissue but rather spiritual energy sucked from the atmosphere. It's still skin, the same old skin he was born with.

Sukuna had never shed his skin, he'd only perfected it, enhanced it, molded it into its perfect form, until he was no longer held back by foolish human limitations.

He'd never been "reborn" only recreated; only perfected.

Spike, talon and teeth covered arms sprouting from oozing, bleeding scars, charred over by begriming infections that burned worse than the strikes he'd endured as a child. Knuckles and bones cracking over and over and over again until they grew as solid as the rocks that were thrown at him when he was all too little to understand the malice behind the insults and threats. Breaking until they could break no more, until they'd become strong enough to split a boulder with a mere flick.

There had come a time when he'd given up licking his wounds, leaving them to be kissed by the mold-covered worms who left an urticating sensation he'd soon come to associate with victory. Rotting flesh growing covered in thick layers of black tar tattoos that hid every cut he'd endured when he'd once been too weak.

Monsters were created from quarter truths buried neck-deep in fables that snipped like red-eyed scorpions.

Until the blood dancing through their veins was as black as the void they now called home.

Sukuna knew the exact moment he realized he was a monster. The day he realized he liked the crunch of skulls beneath his feet, the pitiful spark in mortified eyes staring at the heavens for a scrap of mercy. Mangled mouths barely held together by fractured jaw bones, uttering prayers and pleas that died in the scorching air.

Sukuna knew he was an abnormality, patched together by broken heirlooms and shattered family traditions. Sitting on a throne made from skulls of those who thought they could ever kill him.

You can't kill a monster, for you can not kill that which was never born.

You can't slay something made from good intentions with malevolent methods, something so vile that it might actually be pure. At the end of the day, no monster really admits that it is a monster, a nightmare that should have never existed.

Yet...

Tattered hearts and cruel orbs are never quite enough. No monster is complete until they dive off that last edge, plummet into the sea of nothingness, and finally, finally break their souls on the spiked soil. Monsters, spirits, curses any malicious being that had been mended together like a half-done ragdoll was not complete until they truly let go. Until they erased all the former humanity that they had been born with. Until their eyes reflected nothing, no emotions, no malice, no want, no need. Just the absolute emptiness.

The void in all its glory.

that was the symbol, the true markings of a real monstrosity. The void that took over their existence, that had replaced every inch of their former self. Only then could it be said that you were above all other beings, the true perfection of this world.

There are worse things created than monsters, things that are made from nothing and everything. Things above "Yin" and "Yang". Things that have no scrap of humanity, monstrosity, or anything in them.

Things that are just empty.

So maybe -just maybe- that's why when Sukuna's rotting orange eyes landed on the epitome of emptiness, a...girl, whose face was sculpted to disreflect emotions and intents. Someone who was the void of darkness itself. The true personification of nothingness.

His heart -for the first time in countless centuries- began to throb.

a truly dead face swarmed by a sea of buzzing ants, chasing their routine happiness. Smiles of delight and carelessness carved on their aging faces with sunlight knives and the melody of golden coins. The lust for life leaking from every pore of their bodies.

With every face being a carbon copy of each other it was no wonder yours stood out.

There was a silver chain of attraction, dragging Sukuna towards the village girl. Not love, never love, the king of curses was beyond certain, that neither you nor he could feel such a honey-laced sensation. It was more like....something. Something paranormal, inexpiable. Some magnetic force outside of everything's control.

It was easy enough to explain why he liked you. Why you stood out from the other insects of this middle-of-nowhere-village.

You had dark matter for blood and dead seas for brains.

Your eyes radiated an endless abyss. Making others shy away from your lifeless gaze. Scared to look into the void in fear that it may respond.

You were a thrown away doll,

A living dead,

A dying star,

You were the daughter of the number zero,

The monster that had no maker nor mother.

Something not born nor created.

Just an entity that roamed the earth, with no desire nor hope, no wish nor dream. Not leaving, not dying, just existing in the space between today and tomorrow.

There'd been no need for pleasantries, for hiding behind ghostly tree branches and frozen windows. There'd been no need to kill or ravage for you. No competition to eliminate, because no one ever came near you. Humans don't like what they can't explain, Sukuna knew that all too well.

Sukuna watched from a close enough distance to almost touch. Lingering around like a phantom begging to be noticed. Orbs trailing over you, but never approaching. Until one day he'd just stood still. Waited for you to turn your head just a fraction to the left, just to see him in all his menacing terror. To finally notice the clawing, crawling sensation that had been creeping up your spine like a hoard of spiders.

And when your dead eyes did finally land on him. Sukuna could swear that his breath hitched in his throat for the first time in his seemingly endless life.

You weren't human. Humans didn't have hollow faces or marbles for lips.

You weren't a curse. Curses didn't lack venom dripping from their souls.

You were something better than a monster. You were the divinity of monstrosity, the void itself. Black holes for eyes, answerless paradoxes for hands, and an endless maze where your torso should have been.

Exploding suns danced around you, burning, burning, till they died out, leaving behind no trace that they once lit up the universe.

The space after the end, that's what you were.

Perfect, to Sukuna you were perfect.

You hadn't run, hadn't screamed, hadn't even bothered to talk. You didn't care about him, couldn't care about him. That's what made him want you, made his mouth salivate with the thought of your flesh between his teeth.

That night the world stood still, as Sukuna's claws penetrated your flesh like twirling needles. You were as light as a feather. You weighed nothing, were nothing. All so easy to pluck and throw about. You never made a noise when your body collided with the bamboo walls, just letting gravity and Sukuna play a twisted ball game with your lump of a body.

You hadn't protested when he violated you. As his lips bit every inch of your body raw. For some unearthly reason that even the gods couldn't understand, would never want to understand, you had found the Curse's violent actions rather...adoring. Taking every slap and slash with the earnest pride of a small child getting praised for a day of relentless chores. letting the dawn-tinted-haired monster adorn your body in blue and purple jewels. It felt right, in a pathetically, nauseating, twisted way...it just felt right.

It was disastrous, sure, but it was right. Like two universes crashing. Destroying each other with every kiss and every bruise.

But...

For the first time in your meaningless life, you had truly understood what "happiness" felt like.

For the first time in his endless life, Sukuna had truly understood what "intimacy" felt like.

///

Was it wrong to kiss you? For a fraction of a second Sukuna hesitated, blood tinged lips hovering millimeters away from your own stone-set ones. The moon's cursed rays acting like an unnoticed barrier, keeping two things out of each other's grasp. His lips curled back revealing two rows of knife-like teeth. The last resort, a final hope that you'd run away, that you'd act somewhat normal. The king of curses, the evil among men, didn't mind your lack of regularity. He didn't mind how you leaned into every bitter strike, every painful display of fading affection . He adored how you merely giggled as he slashed open your uncharged skin, creating slits for your blood to spill through, onto his waiting tongue. He admired your lifelessness, the way you radiated death.

Oh, how you filled him with a startling aftershock every time he touched you. Every time his tongue lapped at your bleeding skin he'd feel the sort of electric shocks that came after the storms had passed. Your body had no shape, it molded to his touch, turning his favorite shades of red, with just a little pressure.

But sometimes, in fleeting, endless seconds. He wished he had a name for what you two were. You weren't his per se, you could never be his. Being his would indicate that he cared about you, or heck even loved you and that could never be true. The king of curses did not love, nor care. He merely tolerated you; you fascinated him, that's all.

It had been many moons since he first found you in that no-name village. Months upon months since you'd been by his side. You'd watched as he'd destroyed cities, helped him even. Eyes never shedding a single tear. Mouth never uttering a single protest.

The two of you had become the best, the King of curses and the Queen of nothingness. With the dying speed of laboring bees, Sukuna had carved himself inside of you. Twisted emptiness into flower-covered destruction. Into molten gold lava.

Leaving you with wounds that were stuck in a cycle of healing and opening. Until they began to harden like his. Until the need for spilled blood lingered on your tongue like the burn of boiled tea. Until under your nails were coated in a decaying crust of dried blood. Sukuna hadn't turned you into a monster, he'd simply showed you the powers that came with your apathy. With a heart as torn and cold as yours, it was a shame to let it go to waste.

"You're not half bad," his tone is never approving. It's always laced with a strictness that keeps you nailed into place. His words are oxymorons sounding like praise, but once you peel back the lather layers they're just taunts in disguise.

You don't answer, words die on your tongue as quickly as they are born. Sukuna can't even remember what your voice sounds like outside of small whispers in heat filled nights.

However, to the two of you, things like that didn't matter. Your lack of being even semi-alive and Sukuna's endless abuse had become a norm for the two of you. Where else were a two-faced monster and a lifeless girl going to find love anyway?

Sukuna was all you had, all you ever had. You'd die for him, kill for him, turn into anything for him. Because he gave you life.

A purpose to life, made out of raging fires and endless screams. A life fabricated from the pain and suffering of others. That was what the king of curses had given you, all wrapped in a human skin parchment. Maybe that's why all logic withered away the first night he kissed you, maybe from the first second that you sensed his presence you had finally gained a reason to be alive.

///

Whoever said the end of the world was beautiful? Whoever said the final days would be bright and glowing and pure?

It's just a blaze of stray flames and red crystal droplets that may or may not be your blood. Funny, Sukuna had always thought that your blood would be as black as the moonless sky, not a mundane red like everyone else's. He'd expected a grander death from you. Some sort of black hole opening to swallow the world whole. Not just another corpse motionless in a pool of their own blood.

Although he's not one to talk. His own 'death' is lingering on the horizon. Sukuna's head tilts back looking for the flashing jujutsu sorcerers.

"S-sukun-a..."

He smirks, fangs sticking out at odd angles. Your voice is sweet, for the first time in forever he'd even dare say it held some semblance of emotion.

What that emotion is, he doubts he knows or even really cares. He'd long since stopped trying to identify all those "feelings" and their associated names.

His orange eyes lock with your fading orbs, one last time. No, not the last time, just the final time in this lifetime. He's sure he's going to see you again. In any other life, Sukuna knows he'll be able to recognize you despite whatever flesh suit you'd be wearing.

"Shh little one," he's halfway gone before he finishes his sentence, leaving you to relish in his memory in your final moments. "We'll see each other once more, someday in another life..."

His four eyes lock on the approaching sorcerers. He finds it humorous how desperate they look. How alive and ready they seem, such a stark contrast to your ever lifeless face and dead eyes, it repulses him.

"Or maybe in one of the circles of hell."

The flames encircling his fingers remind him of the heat your body radiated in the dead of night. The crack from bones hum as they meet his knuckles, flash memories of your days wasted together doing nothing and everything.

The two of you will meet once more, he's sure of it. After all...

Monsters never die.

How could something that was never even born in the first place, ever die?

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mustardyellowsunshine · 3 years

Text

All of Your Pieces

"I love you, I love you

And all of your pieces"

Pieces | Andrew Belle

________________________________

Protective

"Here."

Kagome startled when a bundle of bright red cloth was abruptly shoved under her nose. She blinked at it for a moment, before her gaze traveled up an extended white-clad arm, across broad shoulders, up to intent grey eyes surrounded by hair so black it nearly blended into the night.

"For... me?" she asked.

A corner of Inuyasha's mouth curved down in a half-scowl. "No, for the rock behind you. Of course you! Who the hell else would I be talking to? "

Too bemused to be offended by his sarcasm, she hesitantly reached up and grasped the suikan he held out to her, noticing as she did his blunted human nails against the fabric. "But," she said tentatively, "won't you be cold?"

He'd already retracted his arm and dropped down to sit on the ground a few feet away from her. He'd just finished building up the fire, which guttered weakly in front of them, already on the verge of going out. It had been raining steadily for most of the day, and though the rain had stopped some hours ago, the ground was still damp. It had taken them ages to find wood that looked dry enough to burn, and even longer to get a flame started. The prospects did not look good for their little campfire, which meant they were in for a long, uncomfortable vigil. The moonless night was dark and chill, and had only just begun.

At her question, Inuyasha merely scoffed. "I'll be fine. Just 'cause I'm human for the night don't mean I'm a complete weakling." His tone was all gruff nonchalance, but the set of his jaw was stiff, and his shoulders looked tense.

Afraid to offend him by refusing it, and much too embarrassed to suggest they share it, Kagome frowned as she slipped the suikan around her shoulders, gripping the edges closed under her chin. "I wasn't suggesting that you were. But even strong humans can get sick in the cold."

"Just shut up and keep it on, will you?" he barked out, sharp and irritated. "The last thing I need tonight is your ass getting sick." His voice trailed off with what sounded like a muttered, "Pathetic woman."

For a moment, she felt a lick of anger, a smarting sort of offense. Her frown deepened, and she opened her mouth to snipe right back—until she noticed the way his eyes kept glancing between her and the quickly-dying fire, between her and its narrowing radius of light, the dark night beginning to hem them in. She saw his jaw clench, watched his hand grip his sword and the minutest movement of his legs as he shifted ever so slightly closer to her.

And she realized all at once that his roughness was not the pompous contempt he pretended it was—it was concern. Deep concern. For her.

He should have been fearing for himself: should have been afraid for his own human body's susceptibility to the elements, worried for his own security against unseen enemies through the long night of his vulnerability.

But perhaps, in his eyes, it was no longer just his night of vulnerability. It was hers, too, and that's what bothered him the most. And for the first time, she began to understand just how deeply her safety mattered to him. How protecting her had gone from a practicality to an instinct, a need.

Just as suddenly as it had come, her anger faded. Closing her lips with a soft sigh, she looked back towards what was left of their campfire. Its smoking embers glowed feebly, and neither she nor Inuyasha made any move to stoke it. She glanced back to the man beside her. He fairly radiated tension, face tight with it, posture utterly rigid as his eyes kept darting between her and their surroundings.

Wordlessly, Kagome scooted across the remaining few feet between them, until her right side was pressed against his left. He startled a little, muscles twitching, but didn't otherwise move. Knowing it was the only comfort she could offer him—wishing she could do more—she slowly leaned her weight against him, resting her head on his shoulder and hooking her elbow through his, her hand sliding down his forearm until it found his larger hand where it rested on his thigh. Not quite brave enough to hold it the way she wanted to, she settled for looping her pinky finger around his. She felt his gaze—warm as a flame—on her face, but she just kept watching the fading embers of the campfire.

When the fire went out and the dark of night rushed over them, she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and squeezed his arm. A moment later, she felt his finger rub against hers in the barest caress.

They stayed that way until dawn.

________________________________

Wild

The first time Kagome heard him laugh, all she could do was stare.

She rode on his back, knees clamped on either side of his waist, arms looped around his shoulders. His hair streamed out behind him as he ran, tickling her face when it wasn't dwarfing her completely.

It was early morning, the sun still low in the sky as the half-demon leapt through the trees of an expansive forest. They had just spent the better part of two days holed up in an abandoned hut while a storm raged outside. The entire two days, Inuyasha had prowled around the confines of the hut, apparently unable to sit still and wait it out. He'd paced and grumbled and cursed. The few times she'd managed to coax him into sitting down, or stretching out in his usual careless sprawl, he'd tapped his foot, jiggled his legs, strummed his claws against the ground, flicked his ears—some part of his body in constant motion—the whole time scowling at the wall across the room as though the sheer force of his frustration could end the storm.

Kagome had been about ready to strangle him when the storm finally broke early that morning. Inuyasha had taken one sniff of the air, muttered a relieved "Finally!" and wasted no time slinging her onto his back and taking off through the door.

He ran with extra energy and speed that day, his leaps farther and higher than usual. As a result, his landings were few between and a touch on the reckless side, his feet finding purchase on thin branches, steep ledges, and precarious boulders. The whole time Kagome's stomach felt like it had climbed up into her throat. All she could do was grip his shoulders and keep her eyes fixed on the back of his neck.

Then he'd taken a particularly tall leap, up into the branches of a towering tree near the crest of a hill. He'd paused for a moment on one of its highest branches, foot braced against the bark—then with one powerful push of his legs, he'd launched them both into the air, soaring through the sky. Wind tugged at their hair and clothes, creating the feeling of complete weightlessness. At the peak of the jump there came a moment of breathless exhilaration, when Kagome felt like she was simply floating in midair, the world spread out below her like a pastoral painting, beautiful and remote.

But then the inevitable descent began, and she realized what Inuyasha probably hadn't cared to notice: he'd jumped off the highest peak in the vicinity, and there was nothing of equal height to land on. They were going to have to drop nearly straight to the ground.

The realization took a split second, and then they were falling. Kagome's stomach dropped, her heart stuttered in her chest, and burying her face against Inuyasha's neck, she let out a shrill squeak—there was no other word for it—and gripped his shoulders with all her strength, knees squeezing his waist for dear life. He tightened his grip on her legs, and she felt rather than heard his voice, rumbling through his back, reverberating into her body.

They fell with a speed Kagome would remember in her nightmares. Her heart thudded so hard she thought she’d have a heart attack. Their hair whipped around their heads, silver and black mixing in a waving mass, and wind howled in Kagome’s ears. It was all cold slicing wind and the sensation of plummeting, her stomach shriveling with fear, and—

—suddenly the air was punched out of her lungs, Inuyasha’s shoulder slamming right into her diaphragm (when had she slid up so high?); a hard jolt shuddered all the way through her body, and she would have flown forward over Inuyasha’s shoulder if he hadn’t wrapped a strong arm around her waist, keeping her draped over him. They were still in motion, skidding fast down the slope of a hill. A quick succession of images—tree branches, rock-studded dirt, Inuyasha’s feet, the red of his robes—blurred together, disorienting her. She closed her eyes and struggled to inhale. After a few heaving breaths, she was able to get her breathing somewhat back under control.

They finally slid to a halt, Inuyasha’s torso lurching forward, then snapping back from the momentum. Kagome opened her eyes and was met with the sight of Inuyasha’s waist and legs; his feet were planted firmly apart, toes spread wide in the dirt. She tried to lift herself up, bracing her elbows against the line of his shoulder, and turned her head to look at him.

He was smiling, wide and exhilarated. Adrenaline had brought color to his face and a gleaming spark to his eyes. The sight of him had Kagome sucking in a quiet breath. Any irritation she may have felt, any residual fear from the reckless freefall, melted away in a single moment.

Then he closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and let out a whoop of laughter that echoed through the forest.

And Kagome could only stare, her heart fluttering.

She’d never heard him laugh. Not like that.

She’d heard him jeer at enemies. She’d heard him snicker in contempt or dismissal. Sometimes she’d even heard him snigger at her expense when he thought she’d done something stupid. But never a laugh like that. So carefree. Wild. Completely unguarded.

Then he looked at her, still with that broad boyish smile, the hint of a fang poking out from beneath his lip, and said, “Ready to go again?”

She twisted her fingers into the material of his suikan. She opened her mouth to say “Hell no!” but instead heard herself whispering, “Okay.”

She wanted to keep that smile on his face.

He rapidly moved her to her previous position against his back, and then he was off, leaping high into the air.

And though her stomach roiled, and her limbs quivered, she just pressed her face into his neck and smiled, listening to him laugh.

________________________________

Thoughtless

“Could you be any more useless?”

Kagome couldn’t get it out of her head. His voice raised, harsh, dismissive.

She pressed her face into her raised knees, hugging her legs against her chest. The tree branches above her swayed in the breeze, leaves fluttering against each other. The sound should have been soothing, but she couldn’t hear anything beyond his voice in her head.

“Are you even trying?”

Her breath hitched. Her throat felt tight.

Of course she was trying. She’d been trying since the day she was thrown into the past. Trying to learn to fight, trying to use miko powers she hadn’t even known she had. Trying to befriend a prickly half-demon who wanted nothing to do with her.

“Could you be any more useless?”

Her arms squeezed more tightly around her body. Sighing against her legs, she turned her head to rest her cheek against her knees.

They’d been fighting, of course. And she’d certainly been just as insulting to him, giving back as good as she got. Even egging him on a bit. Part of Kagome knew he probably didn’t mean it, just as she hadn’t meant half the things she’d said. But remembering that sharp edge in his voice, part of her had to wonder…

She sat under the tree, trying to listen to the wind, watching the light slowly fade in the evening sky. She felt wretchedly alone.

There was a quiet rustle behind her. Lifting her head, she glanced to her right—and there he was. Sitting cross-legged beside her, a few feet away.

He wasn’t looking at her. He stared out into the woods around them, taking as much notice of her as he would a pebble on the ground.

She frowned, opened her mouth to say something. But then she stopped. Maybe it was the tenseness around his eyes. Or the grim line of his lips. Or the way his shoulders were a little hunched, as though waiting for some anticipated blow. Or maybe it was the way his ears were turned in her direction. Trained on her.

Closing her mouth, she lowered her head back down to her legs, watching him next to her in the twilit gloom.

A long stretch of silence passed. Kagome kept watching him—his pale hair almost glowing in the dusk—when finally his gaze cut to her, gold glinting in the starlight. She sucked in a breath. Waited.

He kept his eyes on hers, steady and resolute. Too caught to look away, Kagome lifted her head again. Parted her lips. “Inuyasha… I’m…”

She trailed off, unsure how to continue.

A beat passed. And then he nodded at her. Just a short jerk of his chin. She might have thought she’d imagined it if she hadn’t been paying such close attention.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded back.

He glanced away, back towards the trees. Kagome couldn’t help but notice that the line of his shoulders looked less strained.

He sat there with her in silence, and she no longer felt alone.

________________________________

Jealous

"You smell terrible."

Kagome paused in the middle of her dismount from the edge of the Bone Eater’s Well, and glared at the hanyō standing nearby. "Excuse me?!"

It looked like Inuyasha had been lounging against a nearby tree before she arrived. Now he stood a few paces from its trunk, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. “You heard me.”

Kagome stepped away from the Well and approached him, clenching the straps of her backpack hard. She frowned and snapped, “What’s gotten into you?”

The hanyō leaned forward, took a loud exaggerated sniff, and growled, “What’s gotten on you? Your time ain’t exactly fragrant, but this downright reeks.”

“I do not reek!”

“You do.”

“Do not!”

“Yeah? And which one of us has the yōkai nose?”

Kagome’s face heated, and an unwelcome twinge of self-consciousness leached away some of her ire. She hadn’t exactly taken the time to bathe before she came back…. resisting the urge to sniff at herself, Kagome opened her mouth, closed it, and finally huffed out in a blustery sigh, “You are completely insufferable sometimes!”

She turned on her heel, heading towards the direction of the village, but stopped when he called out, “And here I thought you went back home for your tests. Tch! Lying bitch.”

Spine going completely rigid, Kagome slowly turned back around. Her blistering glare would’ve sent anyone else scurrying for cover. “What did you say?”

But Inuyasha had never had the good sense to back away from a fight, and had never had any sense when it came to the girl in front of him. “I said,” he repeated slowly, punctuating each word with a step towards her, “That you’re a lying bitch.”

Kagome walked forward to meet him, getting right up in his space and jabbing a finger into his chest. “I don’t know what your problem is, Inuyasha, but let’s make one thing clear.” Reaching up and grabbing a lock of his hair, Kagome tugged on it hard, making him snarl. “I’ve never lied to you! Not ever! What exactly are you suggesting that I do at home, huh? It’s not like I’m running away to goof off! I have serious things to do there too, you know!”

The sneer that lifted his upper lip had her blood boiling. “Sure,” he said, voice dripping in cynicism, “things. That’s why you smell like that.”

She grit her teeth, practically snarling herself. “Like what?!”

He leaned in an inch, and she was suddenly aware of how much taller he was than her, his body practically dwarfing hers. She wouldn’t let herself take a step back, though, and continued glaring up at him, fingers still tight around his hair.

There was no mistaking the animalistic aggression in his tone when he bit out, “Like some bastard has been all over you.”

Kagome frowned, blinked. “Huh?”

Inuyasha lifted his chin, eyes narrowed nearly to slits, and exhaled harshly through his nostrils. “You reek of some… some…” he floundered for a beat, then snarled, “some weakling boy.”

It took Kagome a few seconds to process that. Then realization struck, and before she could really think better of it, she murmured a quiet, “Oh.”

His face tightened, and he stared at her a moment. “Yeah,” he replied, “fucking oh. I’ve been waiting here for days, thinking you were at your school, and instead you were,” he faltered again, and flapped his hands angrily in her direction, “running around with some boy—”

Kagome’s hand released its grip on his hair and dropped down to clutch gently at his sleeve.

“—and it’s not like I fucking care, because I don’t, but if you’re leaving just to spend time with that,” he bit off the next word, growled low, “then you damn well should’ve had the decency to say so—”

Kagome stepped a little closer into his space. He didn’t seem to notice.

“—and I’ll tell you right now, Kagome, I ain’t gonna tolerate you running home just for him, got it? Your responsibilities here matter more than that little—”

“Inuyasha.”

Her voice was calm and quiet—no trace of anger or frustration—and that more than anything made the hanyō pause, eyes still narrowed on her face. When her lips started to twitch up at the corners, he growled, “Oi, you think this is funny? Hell, Kagome, if you think for a second that I’m just gonna let—”

Her hand tugged on his sleeve. “Inuyasha,” she repeated.

His mouth twisted, and he barked, “What?!”

“You have nothing to worry about. The person you’re smelling is just a classmate.”

Inuyasha’s lip curled ever so slightly, features still tense. “A classmate?” he repeated, an echo of that cynical timbre returning to his voice. “That sure as hell doesn’t explain why his scent is all over you.”

Seemingly unaware of the movement, his hand reached over and gripped her forearm where she was clutching at his sleeve. As he spoke, it slowly skimmed down her arm to lightly circle her wrist, his thumb resting against the heel of her palm.

Warmth suffused her stomach at the touch. She tilted her head, her gaze steady on his. “You know my grandpa’s been making up excuses for me at school, right? Everyone there thinks I’ve been sick. Like, really sick.” She sighed with mild chagrin, thinking of the ludicrous illnesses her grandfather had been coming up with. Then shaking her head, she continued, “When Hōjō saw me after class, he was just glad to see me doing all right. He gave me a hug. That’s all.”

Inuyasha’s eyes were still narrowed, but the longer he looked at her—her expression so open and calm—the tension began easing from his posture, his shoulders relaxing. Finally he snorted, nose wrinkling. “A hug, huh?” When she nodded, he grumbled without much heat, “Must’ve been one long-ass hug, then.”

Kagome felt her cheeks heat again, and her smile was somewhat embarrassed. “Um, yeah. It, uh, it was pretty awkward. Hōjō isn’t the best at picking up social cues.”

At the hint of discomfort in her tone, Inuyasha paused, watching her. Whatever he saw, it seemed to reassure him, because his face lost all its stiffness and the scowl cleared away. But he was frowning slightly when he said, “Oi. If you didn’t like it, you should’ve just stopped him.”

Kagome shrugged. “I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Not all of us enjoy being rude, you know?”

Inuyasha’s hand tugged gently on her wrist, drawing her closer. “If you don’t want someone touching you, just say so. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.” He brought up his free hand and flexed his fingers slightly, showing off his claws. “Or I can do it for you, if you want. Just point me at the bastard.”

Kagome bit her lip to keep from smiling at the gruff sincerity of the offer. “Hm, I’ll let you know if I need you.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Then Kagome slid her wrist from his grasp, only to replace it with her hand. She threaded her fingers through his, pressing their palms tightly together. At his bemused—and vaguely flushed—look, she smiled and said, “Let’s go.”

She pulled him by the hand towards the village, delighting in the feeling of his fingers curling around hers.

________________________________

Kind

"You know, if you're not careful, your face will freeze that way."

Inuyasha's menacing glower turned Kagome’s direction, followed quickly by a snarled, "The fuck are you talking about?"

Teeth gritted, eyes narrowed and furious, ears laid flat against his head, he looked on the verge of exploding. Kagome sighed. "Never mind."

With a muttered "Tch," the hanyō returned his attention to cleaning his sword, which was proving to be an exercise in futility. Thick, viscous yōkai innards of an indeterminable brown color—blood? bile? mucus? some form of stomach acid? it was impossible to tell exactly what that gunk was—coated Tetsusaiga from point to hilt. Inuyasha had spent a good ten minutes trying to clean it off, but had only managed to spread it around, smearing long sticky streaks along his hands and the sleeves of his suikan.

The consistency of the stuff reminded Kagome of superglue, which didn't bode well for Inuyasha's efforts. She wasn't going to tell him that, though.

Sighing again, she seated herself on the ground and watched him try to remove the slime from his sword by wiping it on the grass, scraping it against the bark of nearby trees, and even swinging it through the air with all his might, as though sheer brute force would propel the mess off.

"Was that stinking eel made of slime? Dammit!" Inuyasha slammed Tetsusaiga point-down into the ground and dropped to a crouch next to it. She could see a muscle in his jaw working even from where she sat.

Poor guy. It had been a rough day. They were two weeks into a shard-hunting expedition, and they hadn't found a single shard—or even the rumor of one—until that morning, when Kagome had faintly sensed the Shikon's power, like the minutest flutter in the back of her mind. But faint as it was, she'd struggled to pinpoint where it was coming from. They'd had several false starts, spending hours traveling in a direction only for Kagome to realize it wasn't quite the right way, or that they’d somehow veered off course. By that afternoon, even Kagome's frustration was getting to her. She could only imagine how Inuyasha felt doing all the leg work. He surprised her, though, and didn't say a word about it; he just silently went wherever Kagome directed him to go.

After half the day running near-aimlessly around the countryside, they'd finally hit on the right direction. The pull of the shard grew stronger and stronger, eventually leading them to sprawling swamplands swarmed by biting flies, littered with stagnant pools of water, and dotted with more than one human corpse in various stages of decay.

And the smell. Like sulfur and the mineral tang of mud mixed with rotting flesh. Inuyasha had looked downright queasy, covering his nose with his sleeve and grimly muttering, "Let's get this over with quick."

Kagome tracked the shard through the mire, shoes slipping and sliding in the sludge; she did her best to steer them around the stagnant pools whenever possible, but they'd both been forced to wade through muck up to their knees when they ran out of solid ground to walk on. The trail of the Shikon's power led them deep into the swamp, and finally ended at the largest pool of standing water they’d yet seen, the size of a small lake. The pull of the shard was coming from its center.

Kagome had only just lifted her arm to point towards the lake when a giant plume of water shot up from its depths. In the midst of that plume reared the massive, sinuous brown body of an eel. Kagome immediately saw the glow of the Shikon shard lodged in its jaw, buried behind rows of sharp teeth as long as her forearm.

Inuyasha hadn't waited for it to make a second move: he launched himself forward, Tetsusaiga raised with both arms, a hoarse shout ripping from his throat.

Under normal circumstances, Kagome doubted the eel would have presented much of a challenge; it was about the size of Mistress Centipede, an enemy Inuyasha had torn apart with nothing but his claws. But this yōkai had a distinct advantage over them: they weren't on solid ground. Inuyasha wasn't able to get traction in the swampy mud, which meant his jumps weren't as high, his landings sloppy, and his movements slower.

Which is probably why the yōkai was able to land a glancing blow on Kagome. The eel darted forward, jaws wide and ready to snap down on flesh; Inuyasha jumped out of its path, but quick as a flash it changed course, veering at an angle towards Kagome, where she’d been standing with bow at the ready. With a shriek, she leapt aside as quickly as she could, but one of those long teeth caught her arm, dragging up from her elbow all the way to her shoulder.

She’d barely registered the stinging, burning sensation in her arm when she heard Inuyasha’s ragged bellow.

“Stay the fuck away from her, you piece of shit!”

She didn’t see him move, but she heard his wordless yell; saw a spear of sunlight glint off Tetsusaiga’s blade as it arched down; felt the spray of water on her face as the eel violently writhed, Tetsusaiga imbedded into the flesh below its head.

Even injured, the yōkai’s body—pure sinuous muscle—flailed with such ferocity that it threw Inuyasha off his feet. He was able to hold onto Tetsusaiga’s hilt, dragging the sword with him as he was hurled into the ground. The eel reared and darted towards him.

“No!” Kagome roared, already standing and drawing her bow. Ignoring the burning in her arm, she drew an arrow back and released. It lodged deep into the eel’s left eye, her spiritual power flaring as the arrow hit, burning half its face.

Half-blinded and almost certainly mortally wounded, Kagome thought it was nearly over. But she’d forgotten: cornered animals are at their most dangerous when they’re most desperate. The eel’s tail lashed out from the water and shot forward with terrifying speed. Kagome tried to dodge, but wasn’t fast enough: its tail caught the edge of her uninjured shoulder and sent her flying through the air. She landed on her side in the muck, skidding a few yards before the boggy ground stopped her momentum.

Dimly, through the throbbing pain she now felt pulsing through her muscles, Kagome found herself grateful for the water-saturated quagmire. If she’d landed on solid ground, she’d probably have some broken bones right about now.

“Kagome!!”

She lifted her head a few inches, cracking her eyes open.

In the time it had taken her to hit the ground, Inuyasha had put himself between her and the yōkai. Half-turned towards her, he had Tetsusaiga pointed at the eel while he looked at her over his shoulder.

His expression was downright murderous.

“You okay?” he rasped through the snarl twisting his features.

When she gave a brief nod, he turned his full attention back to the eel. “What did I say about getting near her?” The lethal calm with which he asked the question nearly had a shiver going down Kagome’s spine.

Inuyasha raised Tetsusaiga—then planted it point-first into the ground next to him. Lifting both his hands, he flexed his fingers, knuckles cracking. “For you, motherfucker? I’m gonna use my hands.”

Then he was leaping forward with a low, guttural shout. Claws connected with flesh, biting deep. He sliced clean through the yōkai’s body, at the same spot he’d injured earlier. Blood sprayed into the air.

The length of the eel’s body slumped into the lake with a tremendous splash, slithering down under the foam, disappearing from view. The head fell in the other direction, towards the boggy shore. It landed in a clump of springy weeds, rolling for a few feet before coming to a halt in a patch of mud.

Inuyasha stood in swamp water up to his waist, looking at his blood-stained hand with a wrinkled nose and an almost pouting expression, as though already wondering how long it would take to get rid of the smell. Seeing it, Kagome couldn’t help the (admittedly pained) giggle that broke from her lips as she sat upright.

Inuyasha’s gaze went straight to her, and the rest of him quickly followed. He dropped to a crouch next to her, eyes skimming her body for injury. “You okay, Kagome?”

She took a moment to assess. She patted her abdomen, around her ribs; she slowly moved her hands and feet, arms and legs; she rolled her shoulders, especially the one that had been hit. Her muscles were definitely twinging, and the cut on her arm still stung, but... “I think I’m mostly okay. I’m just going to be really sore tomorrow.” She winced as she stretched her shoulder. “And probably bruised.”

Inuyasha’s eyes landed on her cut arm. He scowled. “We need to clean that up.” Vigorously rubbing his hands in the patchy swamp grass—wiping off as much of the eel blood as he could—he then slipped his arms beneath Kagome’s knees and around her shoulders, hefting her up against his chest. Pausing to scan the area around them, he mumbled, “Where’s your damn backpack?”

“Uh,” Kagome swiveled her head around, then pointed over Inuyasha’s shoulder. “There! I put it down when we reached the lake.”

Inuyasha started moving in that direction, but Kagome smacked the back of her hand lightly against his chest and said, “Hey, wait!”

Glaring at her, Inuyasha kept moving. “No. That cut could get infected. We need to take care of it now.”

“But—”

“Now wench, now.”

She sighed, her breath ruffling the ends of her bangs. “Okay, so you don’t want to collect the jewel shard, then?”

He stilled. Then he glanced over at the yōkai’s head where it lay in the mud; glanced back at her, the oblique set of his brows almost calculating. Releasing a loud, annoyed exhale, he turned back towards the eel’s head.

Kagome grinned up at him. “I can’t believe you almost forgot the shard.”

“Shut it.”

“Aww, don’t be embarrassed! It’s sweet that you were so worried about me.”

Color suffused the skin along the bridge of his nose. “Keh! I just need you in working order. You’re useless to me otherwise.”

“Of course,” she agreed, nodding solemnly. “I believe you, Inuyasha.”

He mumbled some curse word or other under his breath. When they reached the decapitated yōkai head, he gently set Kagome on her feet. She kneeled down, felt for the shard with her power, then pointed at a spot behind the eel’s gaping jaw. “It’s in there. Could you…?”

Inuyasha used one of his claws to slice open the flesh behind the rows of teeth. Then Kagome—visibly shuddering and chanting “ew, ew, ew!” to herself—probed with her fingers until she found the shard. She pulled it out, holding it up for Inuyasha to see. “We did it!”

“Uh-huh, great.” He scooped her up into his arms and leapt over to where her backpack lay on the ground. “Now we clean this.”

He sat her down on a large rock, then slid his hand under her elbow, lifting her injured arm up for closer inspection. “You got lucky,” he said, a slight growl underpinning the words, clearly still bothered that it had happened at all. “It’s not very deep. Won’t need stitches.” He considered her arm for a moment longer, then said, “Right, first thing’s first.” With his free hand, he used his claws to cut her sleeve off at the shoulder.

“Hey!” she cried as he pulled the shorn sleeve carefully down her arm and off her wrist. “These uniforms aren’t cheap, you know! I’m going to have to replace this.”

“It was ripped anyway.”

She pursed her lips, a sullen slant to her mouth. “I could’ve mended it.”

“Tough shit,” he said. “It’ll be in my way, and you don’t need loose threads getting stuck in the wound.”

She couldn’t exactly fault his logic, but she pouted anyway, fingering the sleeve now laying in her lap. Inuyasha bent over to rummage through her backpack. He pulled out the things he remembered seeing Kagome use before—cotton dressings, antiseptic spray, alcohol wipes, gauze. He picked up the package of alcohol wipes, sniffed at it, then made a face. Still, he took out a wipe and began cleaning his hands with it, even taking the time to get under his claws.

Kagome watched him, completely fascinated.

Tossing the used wipe into her backpack, he uncapped the antiseptic spray and held it up to her arm. “Ready?”

Biting her lip, Kagome nodded.

He sprayed the length of her arm, thoroughly coating the cut and the surrounding skin. She tensed up, and released a soft hissing breath. He frowned and mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she replied. “Just stings.”

He used a piece of cotton dressing to wipe off the skin around her cut. His hands were so gentle, his fingers exerting a barely-there pressure around her elbow. Each swipe of the cotton was slow and almost cautious.

And the look on his face — Kagome couldn’t tear her eyes away. He was so intent, so focused, and yet there was a quiet, almost serene quality to his attention. She wondered if she’d ever seen him look so absorbed before. Certainly never so absorbed by her, anyway.

Kagome blushed a little at the thought.

Finally, Inuyasha had the wound cleaned to his satisfaction. Selecting two more strips of clean cotton dressing, he placed them carefully along the length of her arm, over the top of the cut. Then, unwinding the roll of gauze, he began wrapping her arm.

When he’d finished, he appraised his work by running a hand along the bandaged portion of her arm.

It shouldn’t have felt like a caress, Kagome thought, and yet…

Face heating up, Kagome coughed. Startled out of his concentration, Inuyasha shot her a swift glance. Noting the pink in her cheeks, and the way she kept looking at his hand where it still gripped her elbow, Inuyasha flushed. Abruptly dropping her arm, he took a big step back and shoved his hands into his sleeves.

“T-there. Don’t have to worry about your pathetic human body getting infected now.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his flustered frown, the way his ears kept twitching atop his head. “Thank you, Inuyasha,” she murmured, resting her hand on her bandaged arm.

He flicked an ear back at her. She didn’t expect him to respond, so was surprised when she heard a quiet “You’re welcome” drift over to her.

It was, Kagome thought, a wonderful moment.

Until Inuyasha glanced over to where he’d left Tetsusaiga impaled in the ground. And finally registered the thick layer of slime oozing down its blade.

It had pretty much gone downhill from there.

Leave it to a swamp demon to totally ruin a good moment.

Now safely on the outskirts of the swamp—Inuyasha hadn’t wanted to stay there a moment longer, not even to clean Tetsusaiga—the hanyō was glaring at his slimed sword as though it was flipping him the middle finger. His glower was beginning to take on a suspiciously sulky edge.

Poor guy. Sighing and casting her gaze to the side, she noticed her backpack sitting beside her. She blinked. Wait…

“Inuyasha,” Kagome called.

He was still glowering at his sword, jaw tightly clenched.

“Inuyasha,” she said again, injecting the word with a cheery lilt to get his attention.

He shifted his glare to her. “Not now, woman.”

“But—”

“Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Doing what?”

“Thinkin’!”

“Hm,” she intoned, “so you don’t want help cleaning off Tetsusaiga, then?”

“What the hell are you—” His invective was cut off when Kagome tossed him the package of alcohol wipes.

He caught it easily, eyebrows lifting as he stared at it. “What…”

“The alcohol in the wipes should help break up that sticky stuff. Theoretically, anyway.” When he looked at her, she shrugged. “It’s gotta be better than scraping it against a tree, right?”

Inuyasha hesitated, glanced at his sword. Without looking at her, he took out a wipe and began rubbing it against the side of the blade. After several long moments, he pulled it away to reveal a small clean patch of steel.

Kagome beamed.

“Erm,” Inuyasha mumbled, darting a quick look her way. He applied the alcohol wipe to the blade again, rubbing away at the slime. Without looking at her, he said quietly, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Inuyasha.”

________________________________

Loyal

He stood at the door of Kaede’s hut, his head bowed.

“I’m sorry.”

He aimed his voice over his shoulder. To her, where she sat inside by the hearthfire. Her heart wrenched in her chest at the defeated ache in his voice.

“I know,” she whispered.

He lingered there a moment longer, clawed hand gripping the doorframe tightly. “Kagome, I… I’m…”

“I know,” she said again. “Go. You should see her.”

His knuckles turned white against the wood, but he nodded.

Taking a step out past the door, he halted long enough to say, “I’ll be back, Kagome. Just… trust me, all right?” Then he was gone.

She knew. And she waited for him.

________________________________

Gentle

Kagome woke with a frightened gasp, disoriented in the dark. Panting, she stared up at the starry sky and tried to reacclimate to reality.

“Oi.”

Jerking up to her elbow, she looked across the glowing embers of their earlier campfire and saw Inuyasha sitting there, holding his sheathed sword in the crook of his elbow, watching her with a frown.

“Inuyasha,” she whispered. “You startled me.”

“You were lookin’ pretty startled already. Smelled it, too.”

“Oh,” she replied, plopping back down onto her sleeping bag. She took a deep breath to settle her heart rate. “Yeah. I had a nightmare.”

She heard him shifting around. “About what?”

“Oh, um…” She took another, smaller breath and closed her eyes. “Nothing really important.”

A beat of silence. More shifting, the soft rustle of cloth. Then his voice, much closer. “Tell me,” he said.

She opened her eyes and saw him above her. He’d moved to sit right next to her, his thigh almost brushing the crown of her head. She could see his face so clearly now, the soft play of firelight warming his features. And he was looking down at her with concern, eyes nearly gilt in the dim light.

There could be no resistance to that look. “I dreamed,” she said slowly, “that I was stuck somewhere dark. Enclosed. And I was… alone.” She curled onto her side, drawing her knees up to her chest. “I couldn’t get out. I called for help, but nobody could hear me. Nobody came. I was just…”

She swallowed thickly and tried again. “I was just alone in the dark.”

She waited, listening to the soft snap of the dying embers.

Then she felt fingers slide into her hair, combing gently through the strands.

“It won’t happen,” rumbled his voice above her, his fingers weaving through her hair again and again. “You’re safe, Kagome. I promise.”

Taking another deep breath, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back into his touch. “Say… say it again.”

His fingers paused in her hair. Moved to graze along her cheek, down to her jaw, until he had her face cradled in his hand.

“You’re safe with me, Kagome,” he said. “I’ll protect you. I’m not going anywhere.”

It was like he’d taken something heavy off the very center of her chest. She could breathe again.

She placed her hand over his, smiled for him. “I know. And I’ll protect you too, okay?”

His mouth tugged up in answer. He ran his thumb across her lip, tracing her smile. “I know,” he said.

#Inuyasha #Inuyasha fanfiction #InuKag #my writing #All of Your Pieces

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ddosie · 3 years

Note

# 2 and soobin for the prompt please!

you wouldn't say you were the sentimental type.

things came and went. kids grew into adults. that was just how life was. people grew apart, sometimes closer, and it was all expected.

you just never thought you would have to face it yourself.

it was a problem that you had only read about in story books. the handmaiden watches the price she fell in love with get married. she moves on. the king lets go of the memories of his favorite knight. he moves on. the queen loses her son, her only son. she moved on.

they all moved on. so why couldn't you?

"class! class! let's start this school year by introducing ourselves! i'll go first. my name is ms. hilton, and i'm your english teacher for this year! i've worked at this school for a long time now, and i can't wait to teach all of you kids!

okay, now that i've done my introduction, shall we go along the classroom and introduce ourselves? starting from you sir, yes you with the white and black sneakers. please start by telling us your name and a fun fact about yourself."

you watched as the said boy stood up, pushing his hair back with his hand.

"uh... hi everyone, i'm soobin, and one fun fact about me is i went to Europe this year."

as the next person got up to introduce themselves, you found yourself staring at him.

jeez, he was tall for a middle schooler.

the sun is filtering through the blinds in your room, and rays of light are being painted across the walls. everything is a golden color, from the desk to the bedside.

"so... what topic are we choosing for this project?" you watched through the lens of your glasses as soobin furrowed his brow.

"do you think, maybe aristotle?" you nodded your head eagerly, so soobin stood up and walked over to the teachers desk. a second later he sent you a thumbs up.

"aristotle it is."

you twirled your pen in your fingers as soobin took a seat. "hey do you want to work on the project with me over the weekend? i know a really good café...?"

there was a small smile on your face, and you nodded.

"yeah sure, what time?"

you got up from your chair, grabbing a camera. in this lighting, the room was just too pretty to not take a picture of.

"y/n, for someone of that height, there is no reason you should be walking that fast."

you sent a small smile to the long-legged boy trying to catch up with you in the hallway.

"if you don't want to be late to class bin, you're going to have to put those legs to work."

you let soobin catch up with you, and you slowed down your pace from thereon so the two of you could walk side by side. soobin pointed at the trophy shelf.

"do you think we'll win this year too? i hope we do, yeonjun promised a party at his house if we get placed first."

you gave soobin a reassuring pat on his arm.

"you'll be finneee... if you win, i'll take you out to icecream after."

the boy turned to look at you, a smile creeping into his eyes.

"really?"

"really."

fiddling around with the camera, you brushed the light dust that had collected on the top off. you watched as the particles were swept away, dancing in the dying sunlight.

"we should do this every year."

you turned to look at soobin lying next to you, ice-cream sandwhich in one hand, while the other was tucked behind him, supporting his head. he was looking above, admiring the night sky.

"you mean climb some random apartment stairs to get to rooftops? and risk our lives every season game to see a different view of the city at night?"

soobin let out a small laugh. "yeah, well when you put it that way, it does sound bad." you smiled, lying down with your own ice-cream sandwich, propping an arm under your head.

"...i meant the icecream tradition. you'll be there for my next season game, right?"

now it was your turn to admire the night sky.

"of course. i wouldn't miss it for the world"

grabbing a tissue, you went to work at the camera, cleaning dust from all crevices and corners of the lenses. you were surprised. when was the last time you had even taken a photo on this thing?

"hey bin, what's up?"

grabbing your phone and placing it on your desk, you made yourself comfortable, ready for any facetime tea he would spill.

"ah, y/n..." you watched as he ran a hand through his hair from the other side of the screen. "i don't think... i don't think i'll be able to make it to your birthday this year."

there was a quiet silence. you felt like you'd been punched in the gut.

"if i can ask, um, why?" you fiddled with the hem of your hoodie, waiting for an answer.

"the schedules for the basketball game lineups just came out, and the final season game is happening on your birthday. i just wanted to tell you in case we do win that far and i won't be able to come."

you decided to smile at the way soobin had said just in case they win. the two of you were in your sophomore year, and he hadn't lost a game since middle school.

"yeah, don't worry about it soob. we can still get icecream after."

you felt a turn in your stomach when the boy gave you a relived smile, running a hand through his hair again.

"that's all i wanted to say, i've got to go now"

"hm? why?"

"chem tutoring. these freshman are horrible at science."

adjusting the camera, you zoomed in on random objects in your room. the bookshelf. your water bottle. the lamp. click. click. click.

“did you hear? that senior yeonjun will be throwing a bigger party than last year! are you going y/n?”

you shrugged. “when is it?”

“I think it‘ll be this saturday.”

"can’t. I’ll be out of town”

"for what?

“college. I sent an early application, and one of them reached out and wants me to tour the campus. if i go, I’ll have a guaranteed spot next year, and I probably won’t have to apply to any others.”

your friend let out a low whistle and patted your head.

"well when you put it like that, I guess you really can’t go… but maybe we could get something after the game? i heard the ice cream place was still open”

just like that, a mere sentence felt like a silent punch to the gut.

you looked away from your friends face, scanning the cafeteria unknowingly. you were met with the view of a senior tussling soobin's hair, an arm slung across his neck. you could hear their loud conversation even from where you were sitting.

"you coming to my house after the game? me and the guys we're planning to get some icecream and stay over at my house for the night."

you thought you saw something flash in soobins eye's before he smiled, nodding in agreement.

abruptly standing up, you tossed an apology to your friend about how you wouldn't be able to make it and you had just remembered you had some important emails to send. you didn't want to be around when the words of confirmation came out of his mouth itself.

so much for a flash. the last time you had icecream with him was two years ago.

adjusting the lens once more, you caught your eye on a ticket stuck between two books on your desk. you slowly pulled it out. it was blue and grey, your school colors. there was a hole punched on the bottom, indicating it was used.

"and it's the last two minutes of the game, and hybe high is in the lead! if they can make this basket, it will guarantee a regional win for the school. oh! there goes hyunjin... passing to donghyuck who... also just passed to eric who, jeez, passed to soobin...! look at that! look at that!! we are in the last minute everyone, and if captain of hybe high makes this basket, like i said they will be the regional winners!!"

you let the sound of the announcer wash over you, leaning forward in your seat to watch the game.

for some reason you kept coming back. to this gym. to the basketball games.

to soobin.

it had been over a year since the two of you had really talked, the last icecream run being well over three years ago (a promise to go before your birthday was conveniently broken), and the last facetime was to ask for calculus answers.

you knew that you had faded out of the life of the star basketball player.

you just couldn't accept it.

"and soobin gets closer to the rim... oh! it looks like taehyun from bighit acadmy is a pretty good blocker... anyways look at him go! we have twenty second left, and even if he doesn't score hybe is still in for a win... okay, okAY?? WAIT WHAT!! WHAT!!"

there's a loud screech of the intercom that mixes with the cheers of the crowd. you found yourself on your feet, fists pumping in the air in celebration alongside the students in the bleachers despite yourself.

"AND CHOI SOOBIN SECURES THE PLACE OF HYBE HIGH IN DISTRICT REGIONALS!! ONCE AGAIN THE ACE HAS TOPPED EVERYONE AND BRANG HIS TEAM TO VICTORY!!"

you held the ticket tenderly. on the backside was stamped senior, a marker that counted as a discount for the upperclassmen that wanted to watch the game. flipping it over again, you felt a wave of something hit your stomach as you took in the grey and blue.

"hey y/n, wait up!"

you whipped around at the sound of an all too familiar voice.

there, stood soobin, in all his six foot and one inch glory.

"you.." he panted, hands on his knees as if he had run a million miles. "you walk too fast. what's the rush? you were cheering for me so loudly."

there was that feeling again. of being punched in the gut. by that invisible hand that seemed to favor your stomach whenever soobin was around.

"ah, you know... just getting home."

you tried not to stare too long. soobin had grown, matured. the baby face he donned as a middle schooler was gone, only his dimples a reminder of the childhood smiles you shared together.

"you're not... going anywhere? going straight home?"

you gave him a small smile. "...yeah. i'm going soon, so i really need to pack. good game though! you really did good this time around."

"going soon... to where y/n? are you taking a road trip without me?" you sensed a wary tone under his teasing words. three years apart, and this was the news you would have to tell him. curse the fates.

"yup! im, ah... moving cross country. i got accepted a while back."

you could already see the question in his eyes. how far? which major? on campus or near?

why didn't you tell me?

there was a moment of silence while you rocked back and forth on your heels. soobin pushed his hair back, looking into your eyes.

the heaviness of a thousand unanswered questions weighed in the air.

"so... want to catch up over icecream?"

as you held the basketball ticket from senior year, you realized three things.

one: you were the sentimental type. you clung onto old memories and good times like they were life jackets, keeping you afloat in the mundanity of your new life.

two: you didn't really like the idea of always moving on. it seemed so easy in the story books, that after a couple years the queen goes back to her ordinary life, the king appoints a new knight, and the princess finds someone she truly loved. but was there a time where you would just stop caring? was there a day you would wake up and didn’t think about what could have happened, the if only’s and what if’s?

three: you couldn't move on. you prided yourself on being able to move faster, walking a pace before everyone else. life was a journey, and you were going places. quite literally. you were floating when everyone was sinking.

but you were only floating because you had your life jacket.

...

things came and went. kids grew into adults. that was just how life was. people grew apart, sometimes closer, and it was all expected.

you clutched the ticket in your hand, the end slightly wrinkled by your fingers.

you just never thought you would have to face it yourself.

#sorry for the angst anon 😬#this was maybe quite possibly perhaps influenced by real events #txt #txt x reader #txt angst #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt soobin #soobin #soobin drabbles #soobin imagines #soobin scenarios #soobin au #soobin angst #soobin x reader #choi soobin #soobin choi

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supercorpkid · 3 years

Text

You’re going to wish you were dead, instead.

Part 4 of T is for Trauma - The Series

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2370.

Warnings: kidnapping. Injuries. Next level angst.

Previously on the series – part 1, part 2, part 3

You open your eyes when someone kicks your stomach twice. You can’t control the vomit that comes right after, when your body finally understands that you’re up.

“Gross! Boss! The child threw up on my feet.” He walks away from you.

You want to appreciate that fact that you just did something to one of them, but everything hurts so much, like your skin is being peeled off of your body, that right now your only wish is that you could just die already so you don’t have to feel this unbearable pain anymore. Never in your worst nightmares, you’ve imagined you could feel so much pain you would wish you were dead instead.

“Stupid shit doesn’t die of over-exposure. It’s been hours! Maybe we should just shoot her, so she can bleed out to death.” One of them says and you pray they’re being serious.

“Please.” You plead. “End this.”

The boss kneels in front of you, with a creepy satisfied smile on his face. He looks behind him, to the other guys, and starts laughing like you just told the funniest joke in the world. His goons start laughing with him.

“I’m not going to end this. I wouldn’t want to stop all this fun you’re having!” He stands up, the same creepy smile still on his lips. “You know, you Kryptonians are funny. You act like Gods deciding everyone’s fate with some kind of morality no one even knows if you actually have. So, you’re ok with putting us through pain, but you can’t take any?”

“They are some weak Gods.” One of his henchmen says, and he looks back like he is telling him to shut up.

“Your world exploded for a reason. No kryptonian was supposed to survive. But then Supergirl and Superman came to Earth. Now, they are here dictating rules, expecting everyone to follow them. Who do they think they are? Those cockroaches.” He spits on the floor next to you, and you feel saliva hitting your face. “They’re not even supposed to exist, let alone procreate.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” You whimper, and he gives his maniac laughter again.

“I’ll do you a solid though, just because you’re just a little kid.” He raises a hand and quickly one of his goons puts a gun in his hand. He points at your leg. “I’ll make a little hole, to accelerate your dying process, ‘kay?” And he shoots your leg.

You scream as loud as you can, with all the strength still left in you. You thought you were already in so much pain because of the kryptonite, that this wouldn’t add up and you wouldn’t feel any more. You were wrong. The pain piled up on top of each other. So right now, the inside of your body is agonizing, your leg is burning and you’re bleeding out. Is this pain going to go on forever? It sure feels like it, because no matter how much you pray for it, you’re still not dead.

No, you’re not dead. You’re just lying there in your own vomit and blood, thinking about how much you want this nightmare to end, one way or another, when you hear gunshots. You close your eyes, thinking they’ve changed their minds and decided to shoot you multiple times to end your pain, but you don’t feel anything.

“Supergirl, I’ve been expecting you.” What? You open your eyes when you hear that. You can’t see her, the boss is in front of you with his body, but you get a glimpse of red and your heart beats faster. “As you can see, I have kryptonite and your daughter. Now, would you-”

“FUCK YOU!” She flies towards him with her closed fist, throwing him to the other side of the room. You can’t see him, but you know there’s no way he can recover fast from that. Kara kneels before you, and rips the chains with her hands, tossing the kryptonite to the other side of the room, like it doesn’t even affect her anymore. And if it does, it’s not as painful as seeing your situation.

You thought that once you were free of kryptonite, the pain would go away. It didn’t. Your body still feels like it is up in flames. Kara touches your face, you whimper. You can’t barely make up her face with your one functioning eye, but you see your pain reflected on her face.

She is still kneeling next to you, when she hears a noise coming from where she threw the guy. She blows her freeze breath, holding him back a little. Kara looks around, like she’s looking for something.

“I’ll be right back, my love. Ok? Momma is here.” She disappears right after, but comes back a few seconds later, hair blowing, and even though you didn’t see a thing, you know she just used her super speed.

“Mommy. I’m dying.” You whisper and Kara holds you up, carrying you in the most protective way she can.

“Shhh. You’re ok. Mommy is here. You’re ok.” Kara looks around again and you see aunt Alex going inside the room with the biggest gun you’ve ever seen. “He’s tied up in the corner.”

“J’onn and I got this. Take her to the DEO and put her under the sun light lamp, I’ll be there in a few.” Alex goes to the other side of the room, but you still can hear her. “Oh, you thought it was funny shooting my niece? I’ll show you funny!”

You don’t hear anything else. Kara is flying with you back to National City, and you look up to her. Hair flying in the wind, tears dropping from her eyes, she can’t take her eyes off you.

“I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe, baby.” She gives you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Mommy, I’m dying.” You repeat very slowly, because you don’t have any strength left to speak, and you know Kara can hear you either way. And you need her to know. She needs to know you’re probably not going to make it.

“No, you’re not. You’re ok. We’re going home, ok? We’re almost there. Mommy is here with you and your mom is waiting for you. You’re ok, baby.” Kara is crying so hard you barely make out what she’s saying.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I love you.”

“I love you, little one. I’m sorry. I love you. I love you. I’m sorry.” She keeps repeating that until you close your eyes. You can finally let go, you said everything. She knows you’re sorry, she knows you love her. So, you stop fighting the inevitable.

You thought you would die. You wished you had died. But you’re still here. You hear voices and you feel hands on your body. Someone’s touching your leg, it hurts like a bitch. Someone is squeezing your hand, it’s reassuring. Someone’s kissing your forehead over and over again, it’s calming.

You keep waking up and blacking out. But you don’t think they know this, because you can’t talk, can’t open your eyes, can’t move your body. All you can do is feel pain.

“Baby, my baby. I know you can do this. You can come back to us, please, please. I love you so much, babygirl. You’re my everything.”

“Mom, why isn’t she up yet? It’s been days! You said she would be awake by now.”

“Jamie, I-I don’t… She will wake up, honey. Just give her time, she needs to rest.”

“No. No, mom. She’s supposed to be up by now! Bring her back! Do something!”

“I’ve done everything I can, Jam. Come on, honey. Let’s go. Come.”

“Alex, there must be something else we can do.”

“Kara, you know how much I want her back too, I just- I’m sorry, it’s out of my hands now.”

“I wish I could switch places with her.”

“I know, Kar. I know. Go home, you’ve been in here for days. Go see Lena. Go be with your wife.”

You keep wishing you were dead. But you don’t die, and you also don’t come back to life. You’re half alive, and that’s not enough for anyone.

“Hey, little one.” You hear softly, and your heart beats fast. For the first time you feel you have enough strength to do something. You need to let her know you’re still alive. “I brought donuts, and your homework again.”

You try to ask for food, because you’re starving, but you can’t talk.

“I’ve been doing your homework for the past two weeks, and I have to say, I don’t know how you do this. It’s so much stuff, and you still find time to work on your inventions, and go to trainings…”

Yep, your life’s not as easy as it seems.

“Oooh, want to have a laugh? Your teacher sent me your physics homework yesterday and I obviously didn’t know anything, so I asked your mom for help and guess what? Apparently, Lena doesn’t know everything. It took her ten minutes to solve a problem. It was freaking hilarious.”

It sounds hilarious. You wish you were there.

“Hey. Was that a little laugh?” Kara asks and you try to smile again so she can see it. “I’ll tell Lena you laughed at her. Wait, no. I can’t do that, she’ll have hope.” She breathes heavily and your heart shrinks. “Shoot, I’m crying on your homework again. Your teacher will start wondering.”

You want to wake up so badly. You don’t know why your body doesn’t obey you. You’ve been in this bed under the sun for two weeks apparently. Is your body ever going to respond?

“Hold me.” You beg, trying to make your voice come out. It feels like you’re stuck in those nightmares where you feel like you’re screaming, but no one around hears anything. “Please.”

“Alex said we can take you home, with the lights and all. I’m scared, because I know that here, you’re being watched by doctors, but-” You feel her hand stroking your face gently. “I want you to be comfortable, and I want to lay in bed with you all day. So, should I? Should I take you home?”

YES. Please. Do it. Please. All you want is to go home.

“Yeah. I know. We shouldn’t move you too much. We don’t know what’s going on inside you, right? Besides-” You feel Kara’s warmth next to you. “I can lay in here with you, even though Alex tells me not to. We don’t have to tell her, right?” You feel Kara’s arms around and your eyes water immediately. “Baby, are you crying? Did I- Did I hurt you?” She moves away. “ALEX! ALEX! SHE’S CRYING. DO SOMETHING.”

There’s a weird taste on your mouth. Metallic and bitter. You need to get out of this bed, you need to go back to your life. And you feel it has to be now, or it will be never.

You open your eyes, slowly. It’s hard, it’s like they were glued together. It’s all blurry and undefined. You just see bright yellow, but it’s the first time you’re seeing some color in a while so you can’t complain about it.

“Baby! Kara, Alex! She’s awake!” You hear Lena’s voice and you see black and white mixed with the yellow. It’s probably her hair and face, but you can’t know for sure. There are no shapes, just colors. “Baby, baby, it’s ok. Mom is here.” Lena kisses your face and you feel hands on your body. There’s a very strong hand holding yours, and you know it’s Kara, because she is holding so hard it hurts. And you feel Alex’s hands touching your pulsing points.

“Hey, little one. Can you say something?” Kara asks and you open your mouth.

“My bones.” You whisper so slowly it’s pretty much inaudible; you’re sure only Kara can hear you, and only because of her super hearing.

“Oh, oh, sorry.” She stops squeezing your hand and kisses it, gently. “I forgot about the loss of powers.”

Wait, what?

“Ok, you two move away, please.” Now you see red, mixed with the yellow. “Hey kiddo, this is aunt Alex. Listen I have to do a few tests with you, ok? If you can hear me perfectly, blink once.” You blink once. “Perfect. You’re doing really well. Now, if you can see me perfectly, blink once.” You don’t blink. “Oh, ok. Is it blurry?” You blink once. “Ok, don’t worry, it will go back to normal with time. Now, I want you to move your left leg, just a little. Can you do that for me?” You do it.

She then makes you move every part of your body, and slowly but surely you do all that she asks. You hear Kara and Lena’s celebrations next to you and you smile proud of yourself.

“Hey kiddo, that was perfect! Next time you wake up, you will feel a lot better. I promise you.” You feel a squeeze in your hand, and you give her a little smile. “I don’t want you to get tired, so you can go back to sleep now, and we’ll work more later ok?”

“Wait.” You whisper and she puts her ear close to your mouth so she can hear you. “Lena.”

“She wants you.”

Lena takes Alex’ spot, holding your hand and putting her ear close to your face so she can hear you better.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no baby, you don’t have anything to feel sorry for. Everything is alright. Listen.” You feel Lena wiping the tears from your cheeks. “You were right. I’m sorry I made you feel like you’re not the most important thing in the world for me, because you are. You are. Stop-stop worrying about it. Just use everything you have to recover, ok?” You nod weakly. “I love you.”

“We love you.” You hear Kara’s voice and you breathe deep.

“Mommy.” Your voice comes out a little stronger, but it is still just a whisper.

“Mommy is here, little one. I’ve got you. We’ve got you.” Kara says and you close your eyes again. Your body might still ache, but your heart doesn’t ache anymore.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #kara x lena #supercorp fanfic #supercorpfamily #kara x reader #lena x reader #supercorp daughter #reader insert

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jangofctts · 3 years

Text

Sink Your Teeth In (Part 2 of Are You In Or Out?)

Rated: Explicit (Paz is in the next chapter DONT WORRY)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, the cold?, reader is in PERIL YET AGAIN, vaginal fingering, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap them schlongs yall), brief hand jobs, swearing, angst, very VERY light choking, din is a sub sorta?? bottom energy

Summary: Well. At least you aren't dead. After a solo hunt gone wrong, you’re dumped in a cave on Csilla. Hopefully someone finds you before you freeze to death.

a/n: hey…so uh. HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE HUH?!? aheM anyway--yall I just wanna thank everyone first off for all the love and support!!! I see all of your comments and tags and AH IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. ALSO SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO @djxrxn THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN DONE WITHOUT YOU BB GORL

Well—

Here you are.

Taken by surprise by another bounty, further proving how irrevocably incompetent you are at this line of work. You blame the binders. An older, clunkier model—easy to pick if you’re clever enough and yes. Maybe you should’ve asked to borrow a carbonite chamber, but hey—where’s the fun in that?

Not much, as it so happens.

Your feet had been kicked up on the dashboard, dozing and unaware of the freed bounty creeping up behind the pilot’s seat. Something delightfully blunt smashed against your temple, jolting you into a brief conscious state where the only thing you could think before passing out again, was a resounding—

Oh, fuck me sideways with a fucking lightsaber—

The rest is hazy. A blur of colors and the fuzzy shapes of your bounty’s face sneering in amusement when she bound your wrists and ankles and left you in the cargo hold. Vaguely you recall your ship being commandeered, swung into an unidentified atmosphere and landing on said unknown planet Or planets. Planet hopping to cover up a trail.

The bitter cold, sharper than a needle through skin is what shook off the last dregs of unconsciousness. The bounty’s hand was hooked into the collar of your clothes, dragging your limp body through drifts of snow and ice. You would’ve fought back—should’ve even though each extremity felt like a numb block of lead. Not very useful in a fight…

Soon, the snow turned to mud and the mud to stone as a mouth of a cave slid over the impossibly blue sky. Dumped in a cave, and left to die—perfect way to bite the dust. Your bounty turned captor lands a sharp kick to your ribs, mouthing some curse in a language you don’t understand, and left without a second thought.

Seems about right. You have a knack for lying helpless and half dead in places you ought not to be in.

Two days and counting, you’ve been holed up in this blasted cave with no food, no supplies and no comlink. It’s going be a fucking chore to find you—nearly impossible. You’re lucky in that aspect you guess—you know enough bounty hunters to sniff out a a needle in a whole stack of needles, so all it is is a race of time against the elements and how long it takes for one of them to notice.

Aeris is no help. He left a day before you had—hired as personal protection for some syndicate leader halfway across the galaxy. Ives is in a similar boat, off-world and unavailable to drag your ass out of the hole you’ve dug. Which leaves…

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. Anytime you even think of those two a migraine cumulates behind your eyes. It’s…it’s not like anything bad happened in the aftermath—there’s been no fallout or arguments with barbed words as weapons. It’s been quiet. Like stepping onto a sheet of cracked transparisteel in a library full of tight-lipped academics.

The questions lurk under the surface of every conversation and longing look cast your way. You’ll need to clarify and sort things out eventually, but fuck—it’s such a mess of frazzled heartstrings and fine strands of impossible thoughts that lead into an endless void of doubt. You’re shoving that emotional time bomb to the very back of your mind—everything is still so raw…

So you ran.

Picked up any and all jobs that the Guild provided just to escape the looming decision of confronting a certain pair of Mandalorians. That and with them having their own tasks to complete, it was rare to see them, let alone together in the past few weeks. A simple run in here and there in the halls of the Covert, but you were too busy to stop and chat—forced a chaotic schedule upon yourself as an excuse to avoid staying in once place at a time.

Coward.

The word knots in your stomach like gnarled tree roots escaping their prison of dark soil on untrodden land.

Maker—how did everything become so tangled?

You draw your knees up to your chest and release a long, drawn out exhale that echoes through the cave. You sniff and force the swell of tears that prick at your eyes away. You’re pretty sure they’ll freeze and you’re not hoping to find out.

The only good thing about being dropped on this Maker-forsaken, wasteland devoid of anything but snow, is the free ice for the nasty gash on your forehead. A nice little parting gift.

It’s shallow…you think—it stopped bleeding the night before and is now just a scabbed over, tender wound that throbs whenever you move your head too fast. Concussion maybe—a mild one.

Maker willing when someone finds your sorry ass they’ll have bacta. Or a blanket. Either would be peachy.

Sitting up with a wince, you shuffle to the mouth of the cave for the thousandth time and scour the skyline for a familiar ship. Or, any ship really. The only thing you do see is a lonesome wisp of cloud against the grayish blue sky much to your chagrin. You scowl and stalk back into your little hovel and slump back onto the ground.

The hours drag on, the watery light of the dying sun barely doing anything to warm you. Sulking is hardly what you should be doing—not great for the burdened mind and all that, but ah, it’s so fun to wallow in misery. You curl your knees up to your chest and you must slip into a doze because when you’re snapped back into the present, footsteps punch through the frozen tundra outside your cave.

Adrenaline crackles down your spine—the bounty changed her mind. Ultimately decided she’d be safer in the long run with you dead. Fine.

If this is where your grave is going to be, might as well get in one or two punches. What’s another black eye anyway?

A shadow flickers at the mouth of the cave, curling around the wall as she draws closer. A brown boot kicks through the snow and—

“Changed your mind? I—“

Your words die on your tongue as relief floods your veins. Din Djarin stands before you, a sight for sore eyes in these trying times.

Frost glitters on the burgundy chest plate, glinting in the dim sunlight that touches the mouth of the cave. A delicate feathering of the dainty crystals that no high end lace maker could ever hope to mimic curls up the front of Din’s visor and eats away at the edges of his cloak. His heavy step forward reverberates off the walls, some of that ease replaced by the prickle of dread. His silence is unnerving.

“Din,” you say again, just so he’ll say something. “I can—“

You move to stand, but he interrupts with a halting;

“Sit.”

Your mouth snaps shut and you drop back on the floor. This…is not good. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches you and every muscle in your frame tightens like a fist wrapping around your ribcage and squeezing. The precise edges of his helmet are not a forgiving sight and even when he kneels onto one knee you have to resist the natural urge to flinch. Like this, despite hunching over, Din is broad. All hard muscle and sinew amplified by the bulky layer of beskar.

Your tongue runs over the insides of your teeth as you track his hand that he thrusts foreword. You hiss and jerk away at the sudden needly pain when his gloved thumb finds the edges of your head wound. A low sound of disapproval filters out through the helmet in a low metallic buzz.

“You won’t need stitches,” he says. Din reaches into one of his various supply pouches and pulls out a tiny vile of bacta. He casually pulls off his right glove, unscrews the vile and smears the bacta over his thumb. This time you don’t make a sound, even though your nerves scream at the razor like sensation of his thumb working the bacta into the damaged flesh. He doesn’t ask how the injury happened and you don’t care to tell him. There’s a time and place for stories about battle scars and near misses—it’s much too fresh to be spoken of right now.

The brief torture finally ends after once last glance over for other presenting injuries. He finds none, replaces his glove and stands with a muted grunt. You know what’s next. You’d rather avoid it—you aren’t keen on the berating lectures—as deserved as they are.

“I found your ship on Sato 3,” Din begins with a growl. “Imagine my surprise when I found your bounty selling it for parts.”

Ah, there it is. You wince and study your fingernails. “Pile of junk anyway…”

“I thought you’d be smarter about these things,” he snarls, his sharp tone deadly enough to slice through bone. “Was the hole blown into your lung not enough for you?”

You swallow and bite your tongue.

The bristling Mandalorian, continues and jabs an orange tipped finger at you. “You are reckless.”

Your chest constricts as you look away, shame blooming in the pit of your stomach.This is a new facet of Din you’ve never encountered. You aren’t naïve—even the most docile of people can harbor a temper, you know that. And you know Din is by no means passive—he’s an elite warrior equipped with a small arsenal at his disposal. You don’t expect him to coddle you or treat you different than any other companion; but…but it’s hard not to take his ire to heart. Not when it’s the kind of anger that boils deep in your chest and erupts with molten streams that leaves scathing wounds and blistered feelings.

You chew your lip hard enough to taste blood and avoid his piercing gaze. You think if you do you might catch fire and burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry.”

The meek apology settles in the air like a heavy fog. Din’s anger still brews, looming and dark but he reigns in his temper and switches out the searing cadence of his words with chilly informality. You’re not sure which is worse.

“No more bounties.”

“What?” Your brows knit together. The fuck does he mean.

“No more hunts alone—“

You interrupt with a scoff. “You’re grounding me?”

He strides across the small space and plants himself on the opposing wall. “Until you’re competent enough, you have no business being out in the field. You might as well be bait at this point.”

“Competent.” You echo through clenched teeth.

His helmet dips, leveling a steady glare of indifference. “The Crest is a half cycle’s walk from here. In the morning I’m taking you back to Nevarro.”

“I’m not a child. You can’t just,” you throw your hands up in dismay, “ban me from bounty hunting.”

Din’s armor clinks together as he moves to sit. He rests one elbow on his propped up knee, extends his other and rolls his helmet to meet your eyes. “Your actions reflect the Covert now. We can’t risk discovery because of one stupid mistake or a careless loose end.”

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Stars, you want to smack yourself. Your ship, as shitty as it was, hosted a good chunk of sensitive information, all encrypted and translated into binary. A mediocre slicer could hack through it in hours. Not exactly foolproof but hey, at least you had something. Good thing your bounty wasn’t in the market of selling stolen ships to the Empire.

“Din?”

The Mandalorian makes no noise of affirmation that he heard you. You sigh and take his silence as a go ahead and clear your throat. “How long was I gone for?”

Here, in the cave it’s been nearly three days, but the rest of it you’re not exactly sure. Hunting the bounty down took up at least a week or two and even longer to capture her and there’s no accounting for the time lost after your ship was commandeered. Your teeth roll over your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond.

“Almost two months.” He replies evenly. “Your transmissions were cut three weeks ago and I didn’t think anything of it. Comms are always patchy in Wild Space."

Leather creaks as his fist balls at his side. “You didn’t answer for days. Paz and I tracked the ship to Sato 3, but you weren’t there. Do you know how difficult it was to pick through all the planets recorded on your log?”

You blink and return to picking at your fingernails.

“You weren’t easy to find, I—“ He severs the rest of his sentence with a crackling sigh and tilts his head back. “You’re lucky.”

The hesitance lacing his words makes you bite your tongue, the snarky retort crumbling to ash in your mouth. Din doesn’t bother to filter his words—he’s blunt. Efficient and to the point when he does decide to speak. That…well that was different.

He was worried—

You rub at your cheek—numb with the cold and curl into yourself. Din was worried. Easily the most feared bounty hunter in the parsec, worried that he couldn’t find you.

A different cold—one that settles deep into the marrow of your bones and hugs your soul with a sheet of frost, makes a home in your heart. The severity of what could’ve happened replaces that sheen of hilarity and fuck. You were closer to freezing to death than Din finding you here—alone in some stupid kriffing cave.

Somehow the idea of that is worse than the brief brush of eternal slumber you had on Nar Shaddaa. Up to that point you expected to die young—no harm and no foul in it either. You had no attachments, no debt to pay—a drifter in an endless galaxy.

Now you’re here, buckling under the weight of mismanaged friendships and your uncanny skill at weaseling into any and all trouble.

Neither you or Din jump to fill the silence. The ashes of disaster settle in nicely with the frozen echo of an endless winter.

It’d been a couple hours shy from sunset when Din arrived, the sun providing weak light that hardly touched the mouth of the cave. Now as the shadows grow longer and with the temperature dropping, the two of you are swallowed up by the unyielding darkness of night.

Din shuffles and fishes out the solar light from his supply bag. It clicks on and warm, orange light illuminates the cave. It bounces off his beskar, fracturing the light like a million tiny suns in the tempered metal and in the impossibly dark visor. He looks up, and tosses the light over.

You catch it easily and despite the warmness of the light it emits, it offers no heat for your chilled fingers. You set it to the side and tuck your hands into your armpits.

By no means is the cave warm—the natural thermal vents kept the ground dry and free of the ice and snow that rages outside, but it doesn’t protect you from the occasion chilly draft that cuts through each layer you wear. Then again, you weren’t planning on taking an unexpected vacation on Csilla. No time to plan really.

You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest and cast a glance at your ever radiant ray of sunshine across from you.

He looks nice and cozy—leaned back against the cave wall, one leg crossed over the other while his hands sit intertwined just below his navel. The beskar must provide insulation—maybe a fancy heater in that bucket of his, or maybe he’s just too stubborn to show anything other than indifference.

Another bout of shivers tear through your frame and you’re certain Din can hear the enamel of your teeth clack together. You shove your hands deeper into your armpits and tuck your chin into your chest to preserve heat and pray that sleep isn’t far off—can’t be cold if you’re unconscious.

Metal scrapes over stone as Din readjusts himself and you can feel him looking at you. It’s not a terrible weight to bear; intense and analytic, sure and in the past it would’ve unnerved you. Now, instead of it feeling like he were peeling back each fibre of your soul each time he stares, it’s familiar. A pattern of sorts—

It happens each time Din wrestles with an uncertain question. He deals in absolutes, and it’s no surprise he rarely knows what to say to you.

“You’re shivering,” he states. You roll your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“Boiling, actually,” you snip. “Why else would I forget a jacket?”

A sharp hiss of air crackles through the vocoder. “Don’t get mouthy with me. It was a simple question.”

“Well—there’s not much to do about it,” you sneer, watching your breath condensate in the air. “I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.”

You know you’re being snide—but your nerves feel like they’ve been severed at the root with a dull vibroblade. You have neither the time nor energy to spare for simple questions. Din should understand that—seeing as he’s a man familiar with short temperament.

The space between you is ripe with crackling tension, and maybe—if you weren’t so fucking cold—you’d play the mediator. Thread stitches into the gash you both sliced into your friendship, as small it may be. You’ve lost friends over less—this could end up no different.

You sigh and turn your head. This is a problem for tomorrow.

Irritated and upset, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase after sleep. You slip in a doze faster than expected, any and all discomfort fading away a you toe the line between a deeper sleep and waking dreams. You think you imagined Din saying your name—Maker you can’t even escape him in your own fucking head—

It doesn’t end—like a nagging buzz that swells until it’s right near your ear. Spite spurs you to ignore It and exhaustion convinces you to drift further away. That is, until a hand, gentle and warm curls around your shoulder. You once again hear your name rumble low through Din’s helmet, but it’s much too difficult to open your eyes. Why can’t he leave you be? You barely feel the cold now…

“Stay awake.” Din sounds distant, in some other plane of existence despite the steady hold he has on your arm. “Maker—you’re colder than kriffing ice.”

“Go away,” you grumble through numb lips. Such a pest.

He’s talking—but the words don’t make sense. Muddled—split between that hazy line of dreaming and consciousness where you can’t decipher what’s real. His hands however—you can feel those plain as day. A bare palm cups your cheek—shreds through the layer of frost you’re positive has crystalized over your skin and rouses you to a more coherent level of presentness.

“Don’t quit on me yet—“

“Nah,” you mumble. “I’m hard to…to kill. L-like a scrap rat…”

Din grunts in response. “Rat is a compliment. You’re more of a spider-roach.”

The ends of your mouth quirk. It’s the best you can do—a full smile just might push you to the brink of death.

“C’mon—I won’t let either of us freeze,” Din sighs. His fingers find the magnetized latches on his cuirass and it slips off with practiced ease, the armored thigh plating following a moment later. He neatly sets it to the side and grabs his cloak to fasten it around you. With another sigh, Din shuffles in behind you and wraps an arm around your middle, nestling his legs and body snuggly around yours.

Maker—you don’t have time to bother about the intimacy of this because all you’re drawn to is the furnace like heat. Fuck, he’s so warm. You have only a second to enjoy it before your body begins to thaw—bringing forth waves of achey pain.

His chest molds to your back, both arms curling over your own arms that are scrunched up tight around your chest. You shake in his hold, vicious waves of cold clashing against his body heat—it hurts—like sticking your bare foot into hot coals.

You squirm, little gasps of discomfort slipping out that echo around the cave. Din shifts, tucking you further under his body until he’s nearly crushing you. It’s a bit tricky to breathe like this but hey—you’re not complaining. Not when your nose is buried in his soft undershirt that smells purely of Din.

Your fingers and toes still throb as they thaw, but it’s working. Cuddling Din Djarin to stave off hypothermia—sounds kriffing ridiculous.

“You’re still shivering,” he says. “I might…”

Your breath catches in your throat as he trails off. “Might what?”

Another shiver wracks through your body as his frosty helmet catches on bare skin when he dips his head in embarrassment. You don’t quite catch what he says and he doesn’t bother to clarify. “Forget it.”

You turn your head as much as you can, straining your eyes to meet the strip of visor. “Tell me.”

He mumbles under his breath again and cuddles closer, slotting his hips against your ass. “Might know…know another way to keep us warm…”

Oh.

A spark breathes to life in the pit of your tummy. You wiggle onto your back, your nose brushing the vizor. “Does it involve me taking off my pants?”

Din huffs, his hands, previously latched onto your hips, starting to crawl up your waist. “It could…”

You smirk and rock your hips back, eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest. With your whine of approval, Din’s hand slips between your legs and gives the meat of your inner thigh a squeeze. You let your knees fall open as far as they can in this position and it’s all Din needs to cup your cunt through the thin material of your trousers.

Crackling pleasure flood your veins as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, and while the pressure is nice, it does nothing to satisfy. Only feeds the growing flames of desire with brittle kindling.

You pull at his undershirt and whimper, thrilled once his deft fingers, calloused and thick unlace your pants and yank far enough down to fit his hand. His fingers trace your outer lips, a ghost of a touch as arousal swells in your stomach. He parts your folds once your wetness begins to dribble out and coats his fingertips with your arousal.

Stars—you need him. You arch into him and whine. “Touch me. Din, please—“

You jerk as Din’s thumb swirls a slow circle over your clit, a rush of endorphins surging out like unrefined fire whiskey. Din’s head tilts to watch you writhe over his fingers and the sudden chill of his helmet touching the inside of your flushed neck steals away your next inhale. Goosebumps race down your entire being, adding to the influx of your excitement that pools in your lower belly.

Your hands tangle into his undershirt, pulling him closer until you can’t find where he begins and you end. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the dance of your own heart that yearns to break free from your ribcage. Your breath catches when two of his thick fingers tease at your entrance. Your walls flutter around him as the slip in easily.

His fingers roll forward and stroke against something devastating inside of you, and he when his palm rolls back, it bumps against your clit with that divine firmness you need. Your cunt tightens around the two digits as they curl.

“Fuck. Can you hear yourself?” He pants, groping your breast to elicit a high pitched wail. “You always make—make such pretty noises.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and fuck. You’re already dipping head first into release. A moment later you’re arching into his chest as every muscle stiffens in a crescendo of bliss, your stuttered breathing harsh even to your own ears.

Your quick pants fog up his visor as Din rests the crown of his helmet on your forehead, the metal a cool relief to your flushed skin. He slips his fingers out of your dripping cunt, your chest still heaving with exertion as the last strands of your high fizzle and ebb away. Din shifts and and snakes his fingers, still shiny and wet with your arousal, beneath the lip of his helmet and sucks them clean with an appreciative groan.

“Fuck—“ You breathe, pushing your face into his hand as he cups your cheek. Din’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone and swings his leg over your hips to hoist himself over you.

“Do you remember...” He starts, his voice buzzing through the vocoder. His fingers tickle down your cheek and trace the parted outline of your lips. “When you let me taste you?”

You nod, and it’s all you’re able to do. You’re not even sure you can formulate words, let alone voice them right now.

Din’s thumb pulls at your plush bottom lip, and you can’t help but slide your tongue along the digit. He grunts and slips his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth. “I think about you every night…how you came on my tongue—”

Your stomach flips as a rush of arousal sweeps through your tummy. You groan and you’re half sure you’re gonna dissipate into the floor from how hot your cheeks burn. “Din—"

He continues without missing a beat.

“You were so fucking wet for me—dripped all over my hand,” he murmurs, nuzzling his helmet, still chilly and frosted over, into the crook of you neck. “I want to do it again—can I?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his sentence. He wasn’t the only one longing for his head between your thighs on those long nights apart. Remembering those plush lips and addictive touches could only get you so far and well—he’s here now. You said it once and you’ll say it again—there’s no chance in hell you’d be passing up this opportunity.

Din lifts his head and as you watch the light glitter in the reflection of the beskar, a sudden stray thought ricochets into the forefront of your mind. “Din, the light—your helmet.”

He pauses, his body tensing as he mulls over his options. “It’s—I—it’s ok…It’ll be ok.”

Din inhales a stuttered breath and casts a brief glance over his shoulder. It’s a dim light, kicked into the corner and laying on its side. From this angle, his face would be partially obscured in shadow…but still. There are easier ways to go about this. Ways that don’t risk jeopardizing the very foundation of who he is—what he stands for and what he so devoutly follows.

To say you know anything about his religion is laughable. Everything you know can fit on the back of a thumbtack and even still, you’re sure that half of that is still based upon rumor and speculation. But this—what Din is hinting at, you know is not something to be taken lightly.

He’s stripping his soul bare for you—allowing you to glimpse at that bleeding heart of his he guards so securely within layers of flesh and bone and impenetrable beskar. Din is gifting you his trust and there’s no where else to put it except for the space beneath your breast bone.

Yet, even still—this could mean nothing at all. You have no way to know the exact magnitude of what this means to him. If he’s alright with this, who are you to question?

He mumbles one last thing about the light and sits up. Goosebumps rush up your bare skin at the loss of the heavy warmth of his body. You whine and curl up closer to his legs, greedy for any spare iota of heat like you’ve been denied it your entire life.

Maker you hate this fucking planet—

Your attention snaps back to Din when he makes a noise of uncertainty. His hands are cupped around his helmet—hesitant, nervous and you suspect if Din’s hands weren’t plastered so tight around the metal, he’d be shaking. You chew on your lip and prop yourself up.

Cautiously, so as not to startle, you reach up and curl your fingers around his wrist. You can feel his pulse thrumming through his veins—alive, flesh and bone like you. Not some heap of sentient metal built for the horrors of war. You don’t know why you do it—just seems right to pull the fragile and vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to you mouth. You plant a gentle kiss there and smile when he cups your cheek.

“You don’t owe me anything, Din,” you say, staring into the darkened depths of his visor. “Least of all this.”

Some of that tension held in Din’s shoulders melts. He utters something in that clipped language of his people, and the only thing you can make out is your name. He lurches foreword and fuck—you’re terrified for a split second he’s gonna cave your skull in but instead he lightly bumps the crown of his helmet over your forehead.

“I want to. For you—only you.”

Din doesn’t leave any time to unpack all of that. He sits up again, wraps his hands around the beskar—

The metallic thunk of the helmet reverberates through the cave like a crack of thunder.

You were right.

You can barely see his face—if you really look, you can see the murky outline of his nose, dark hair and a sliver of his tan skin that the light touches. Attractive—but you knew that already. You touch his cheek and smile, your thumb catching over wiry facial hair and soft skin. Din makes a sound low in his throat and pushes his cheek into your hand.

“I still want to taste you,” Din says, his voice richer when stripped of that tinny vocoder. You like listening to him speak without it, you think, and it’s a damn shame you never get to hear it. “Please.”

Before he can escape and fulfill that fantasy, you yank him into a blinding kiss. He kisses the same—all wild edges and with desperation lining each motion—but there’s a new found tenderness here. Like he’s savoring each gasp and every brush of skin you grace him with like it’s your last night left in the galaxy.

He breaks away from your mouth and peppers kisses and nips down your jaw, then lower as you arch and expose the bare skin of your throat. There’ll be a plethora of bruises tomorrow, and with no hope to cover them either but fuck it—Din can leave as many hickeys and teeth marks as he wants.

If not for the cold still latching onto your very soul, you’d ditch the shirt; give Din better access instead of him needing to shove a hand up under and grope at your breasts. He gives the fabric an annoyed tug, but it’s fruitless. There’s no use when there’s better things to be sought.

He shoves your shirt as far up as it goes, shivering as he mouths down your stomach, licks around your bellybutton and sucks a bruise onto your hipbone. Your pants are already pulled halfway down—one sharp yank and they’re around your ankles and off in the next breath.

Cupping your knees with both hands he gingerly spreads your legs and drapes them over his muscular shoulders. Din rubs his patchy haired cheek along your thigh and hooks his hands under your ass, his ivory white teeth catching the light as he smiles.

“Fucking perfect—“ He groans, planting his lips over your inner thigh. His tongue swipes a wet line up, stopping just before your aching cunt to dig his teeth into the sensitive flesh. You jump at the burst of pain and shoot a hand down, tangling your fingers into the soft curls atop his head.

Din grunts and jumps to your other thigh, leaving no inch of skin neglected and without evidence of his teeth and lips. By the time his thumbs touch the outer lips of your cunt, the aching need for him is burning you from the outside in. He has to still your twitching hips with a calloused palm, and only after you settle does he surge forward.

His tongue meets your swollen clit, ripping a tangled cry from you vocal cords. He’s just as eager as the first time he tasted you, if not more—every action backed by needy abandon. He sucks at the bundle of nerves then sweeps his tongue lower. Din’s thumbs part your lower lips as he runs his tongue though your soaked folds, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit that send delicious sparks throughout your whole body. Little noises and breathy gasps fill the cave, encouraging Din to push his tongue deep into your aching entrance.

Your hand fists into his hair as your hips stutter and rock into the searing heat of his mouth. The noises you make are obscene, and Din is no better. Each pass of his tongue over your pussy is matched with his own deep moans that vibrated against your clit. Fucking hell he’s devouring you alive.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, robs you blind and crashes over you in deep waves that drag you out to sea and never to be found again as you spill onto his greedy tongue. Your fingers are threaded tight in his hair as you squeak and press harder into his mouth, riding out your pleasure until it shifts and becomes raw and sore.

Din doesn’t pause for even a second—all too happy to stay put between your thighs for eternity. Your legs are trembling when you force his head away, a nice, tingly warmth settling into your limbs

A dark thrill rushes down your spine when he looks up, wild hair and mouth covered in your slick. If not for the low lighting you imagine his eyes would be glazed over and Maker you want him again. Din swoops down and presses his mouth to yours, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue that slips past the seem of your lips.

You whine after he breaks away and sits up—an opportunity for your eyes to roam down his body. He’s still got his trousers on, a considerable bulge tenting the front. With a smirk you reach up and grab a handful, delighting in Din’s startled grunt. “Easy.”

You flash him a wry smile and give his clothed cock a playful squeeze. “Take them off.”

Din huffs and pulls at the drawstrings. “Needy.”

He says it with no bite and no coquettish retort on your end springs to mind—especially when his thumbs hook into the waistband and pull. A slow reveal of sun-kissed skin and a sparse happy trail that your eyes eagerly drink up.

Din’s cock bobs as his trousers fall around his knees, tip shiny and wet and curling towards his navel. You bite the inside of your cheek and reach out, a rush of arousal pulsing through your core at Din’s low moan. He’s heavy in your hand, deliciously thick and throbbing—and all of it for you.

Din gasps out your name as you lightly squeeze and stroke down, your pace dreadfully slow and teasing. Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this—a Mandalorian willingly on their knees for you.

Your other hand slips up his chest as you stroke him, intent on grabbing a handful of his thick hair that curls softly against the column of his neck. Your fingernail lightly scrapes across his nipple and he sways, pitching forward before he catches himself and straightens. Din’s eyes are squeezed tight, chest heaving with shallow pants as a smirk tugs at your lips.

“It’s ok, Din,” you whisper. “I won’t break.”

Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his skull and guide him back. He slumps forward with a sweet moan, laying his weight onto your body that you’re all too happy too bare. His nose is nestled into the slope of your neck as his hands lock around the dip of your lower back while the other cradles the back of your head, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug.

Something snaps and crumbles deep in your soul that bleeds the heartstring blues, humming with broken chords in the presence of Din’s soft fragility. Your hand moves from between his legs to instead wrap around the wide expanse of his back, squeezing him tight to your chest. You hold each other like there isn’t tomorrow to look forward to and you wonder if this is how it feels to fall apart. Two spinning halves of a supernova torn apart and destined to collide and shatter into a million fragments of dazzling light.

Yes, you’re scared he might blind you or burn you with his brilliance, but you can’t look away.

Your fingers crawl up his muscled thigh and settle on his hip. “Lie down for me?”

There’s no hint of hesitation or complaint as he maneuvers himself onto his back, patiently allowing you to clamber over his legs and straddle his hips. His cock rests on your inner thigh, pulsing and leaving a dribble of wetness every time it twitches.

“Good boy.” It’s subtle but it ripples out like a heavy stone thrown into a still lake. Din shudders and says your name in a cracked whisper. He rolls his hips, both of you groaning at the sensation of his cock running along your dripping center.

Another time for that game maybe.

Your desperation is running hot and wild to have him inside you and you know he’s in a similar boat. You grab the thick shaft of his cock and grind the tip of him through your lips, breath hitching when it extracts such a perfect moan from the man below you.

“Ride me,” he pleads, clamping his large hands over your hips. “Fuck—I need you.”

How can you deny such a request?

You line the wide head up with your aching center and slowly work him in. Shivers wrack through you, and Maker—he’s splitting you apart, molding your insides to the shape of him. Beads of sweat dot your hairline by the time you’re seated fully on his member, the both of you pushed even closer towards madness.

Din squeezes your ass and props his knees up, rolling his hips up into you. You whimper and tip forward, propping your palms over his chest as he sets the pace. You may be on top but there’s no changing the bold colors of power and lust that cloud his mind, fueling the brutal movements of fucking up into you. Your thighs burn already and Maker—why the fuck are you already tired? You’re not doing any of the work.

Quicker than lightning, Din curls forward and manhandles you onto your back. You squeak as he grips your thigh and yanks it around his narrow hips, thrusting in deeper. His right hand crawls up the front of your shirt and wraps his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. His thumb hovers over the dip at the base of your neck but he makes no move to press down—just allows the weight of his palm to do the work. And fuck—it works.

Choked garbles of his name pass through your lips as you buck and squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal begin to drip down the back of your thighs. You’re skirting the edge of sizzling release that alights your nerves with liquid wildfire. Your nails harpoon into the meat of his shoulders as your eyes squeeze shut. Din won’t allow it.

“Look at me,” Din snarls, yanking your head back by your hair. “I want to—to watch you cum for me.”

A blush scalds your cheeks but you listen. Your eyes flutter open for him, sliding to the dark shadows of his eyes that sweep you into their own gravity well with no hope to escape. You don’t mind.

“You’re so g-good for me—always so perfect.”

White hot light bursts behind your eyelids, and that’s all it takes. Your body seizes, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around his cock as you cum. This one is different—steals your breath away and leaves you a broken husk of a person lost in most delectable forms of agony and pleasure. The cry of his name pierces the air only spurring the Mandalorian into a jarring pace to seek his own peak of ecstasy.

Din’s nose nuzzles into your neck, his pants hot and sharp against your flushed skin. “You f-feel so—fuck. Say—say my name.”

You leap to his request and with a playful nip to his earlobe, you whisper it to him with the sweetness of starcherrries and the promise of better things.

He tips over the edge, his hips faltering into no discernible pace as he cums. Din buries his teeth into the skin below your jaw, a mess of whines and begging gasps of nonsense as he fills your cunt to the brim.

Your harsh breathing mingles as you both lazily slip down from your high. He rests his head over your sternum, listening to your beating heart that drums in a wild staccato as your fingers carefully comb through his hair. If not for the ache in your hips you’d keep him here forever. Din pulls out and you both groan at the loss.

He doesn’t completely move away and you’re glad for it. He brushes his knuckles down the expanse of your cheek and dots a tender kiss to your hairline. Your name rumbles low in his throat as he shifts lower and gives your ear lobe a playful nip. His stubble scrapes along your neck, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm—but the weight of his body keeps you pinned. Your name slips from his lips a second time, breathy and drawn out in a sweet sigh, like he’s savoring the sound of each syllable and roll of the tongue.

Din lifts his head, only slightly—near enough that his nose bumps into yours and his lips scrape along yours that are still parted and wet. “I—can I tell you something?”

You cup his cheek and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be quick—but instead he leans into it, guiding your mouth into a slow dance of sticky sweet movements that are caught in a slow draw, like crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar. You’re enraptured by his touch—his skin mottled with scars yet somehow still unfairly soft. He smells of snow—like metal and soap and something gentler, that’s uniquely Din.

Fuck—you can feel your mind slipping away, wrapped up so snugly in his presence you almost forget to answer. “Yeah—anything.”

Crackling static suddenly rips through the cave, startling you both. A distorted voice chatters on the comlink that lies forgotten beside your pants. It blinks and the transmission ends just as abruptly. With a sigh Din brushes it off and tilts his head to tempt you into another kiss but—

Whoever’s trying to patch through is persistent.

His lip curls in a scowl and snatches the comm. “Jorhaa’ir.”

You only catch your name being mentioned twice as rapid Mando’a is exchanged. Aeris maybe judging by the tone, but no that’s not right.

“Wait—is that Paz?”

The muscles in Din’s shoulders tense, confirming your suspicion.

“Is everything ok?” Din doesn’t resist you when you pry the comlink out of his fingers and patch in. “Paz?”

Your heart skips a beat.

“There you are,” the comlink crackles and you smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Stars—you didn’t think you’d miss hearing Paz’s voice. Your chest aches.

The conversation is short, he asks you how you are and when you’re coming home and in the time it takes to answer, Din is peeling himself from your body. While you're distracted, he pulls on his pants and sits at the edges of your vision.

You both pretend when you say goodnight to Paz, return the comlink and crawl into his arms that nothing has festered with savage detachment. You don't remember to ask him what he was going to say and he lets you forget. The golden heart that bleeds molten ichor slips from your sight and becomes shut behind walls of beskar and bushes of thick thorns and overgrown ivy.

He still holds you, but it’s the coldest you’ve ever been.

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