#like they take very little work to break the Fear Barrier before they switch into being sociable and snuggly and easy to handle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hiddens-eden · 3 years

Text

The Last Tune (Emmett Cullen x Male!Reader) Pt 1

Paring; Emmett Cullen x Male Reader + Cullen Family x Male Reader (PLATONIC)

Warning: Cursing, Abuse, Tramua, Angst

Pronouns; He/Him

Spelling checked; No

Summary; Y/N is a quiet boy that's had his fair share of physical and emotional trauma, so he loves to keep to himself. He barely interacts with anyone unless needed and prefers to listen to music and sketch in peace. So imagine his surprise when some of the most popular kids in school want to be around him! They heard him singing along with his music and were immediately entranced. One of them in particular has his eyes set on him. Though, they are not the only ones who have an interest in Y/N.

A/N; Hello, my little Otaku's! Welcome to my first fic! I hope you enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated! Just be kind! I'm sorry if it seems at all rushed! On my next stories I do plan on switching PoV's so it'll be easier to write and more entertaining. Enjoy!

"Who are they?"a dark haired girl asked her friend that was sitting just across from their lunch table

"Those are some of the most popular people in school, the Cullen's. Not only are they hot as hell, but they're charming to boot! They do disappear for long periods of time, which gives them an air of mystery."

At the Cullen's table, they softly chuckled at the description the new girl was given. After all, it's only natural considering what they are. They are a being talked about in many fantasy tales. Known for their taste for blood. Vampires, a creature of the night that feasts on humans. However, they in particular don't drink human blood

They went back to softly talking to each other, but a few minutes later something caught their attention. A soft voice echoed in their eardrums. It was enchanting and beautiful, it was like nothing they've ever heard of. They all simultaneously started looking around for the source of the pleasant sound when the new girl asked about someone else.

"Who is that?" she asked, pointing to a table where a boy sat by himself

"Oh! That's (Y/N), (L/N)! He doesn't talk much, but when he does, you can't help but feel so tranquil and at peace!"

That caught the vampire's attention, and they whipped their heads to where the brunette was pointing. Noticing that that was where the sound is coming from.

"What do you mean?"

"His voice is so soft, like silk! But it has a sort of firmness to it! That's not the only thing, though. He is so kind, adorable, and smart as well! He even helps who ask for him to tutor them. His personality makes everyone want to be around him!"

That rose some questions in the vampires heads. If he is that well-liked, why is no one sitting near him?

"Then why is he alone?"

~The vampires will have to thank the new girl for asking so many questions~

"Well, whenever people come near him, he gets anxious and tries to get away as soon as possible. Someone grabbed him on accident, and he started having a panic attack, falling to the ground, and hyperventilating."

The Cullen's were a little shocked when they heard this. That wasn't normal for sure

"Holy shit. Was he okay?"

"Yeah, he was sent home early. But, some students saw his face as he was leaving and said that he looked terrified. We think something is going on where he lives, though we can't know for sure" she shrugged

"Once he came to school the next day, he was wearing long-sleeves. I thought it was weird considering he never wore them before, but the rest of the school shrugged it off as it being in the winter months making it reasonable. The person apologized the next day and (Y/N) just said it was fine, and he just likes being alone, so now that's what we do"

Right when the girl finished, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Making everyone get up and start to throw away their trash and head to class. All except one person...

"I don't think he heard the bell" Emmett said

"Gee, none of us would've guessed!" Rosalie responded, causing the other Cullen's to chuckle

Suddenly, Jasper's sight shifted to his wife Alice because he felt her stiffening up, a tell-tale sign of her power activating. The other vampires looked at her as well, waiting for her to relay what she saw. After a little bit she came to and, slowly, turned to Emmett grinning

"Emmett, why don't you go over and tell him class is about to start? Maybe even ask him to tutor you! We all know you need it." she remarked, still grinning

Starting to understand why she was acting like the way she was, Emmett sighed, wanting to protest, but he knew Alice's visions almost always came true, or they would end at the same conclusion.

He made his way over to where the boy was sitting

"Remember not to grab him!" Alice semi-shouted from where she was standing

Emmett waved her off, still approaching (Y/N)

He gently tapped (Y/N)'s shoulder, making the smaller boy jump in surprise and what Emmett can only assume is fear

(Y/N) turned his head around fast enough to give him whiplash and that's when he met the golden eyes of the person that startled him

He took his earbud out before speaking, "I-Is there s-something I can do for you?" (Y/N) asked shakily

Emmett stood there for a moment. He had never seen someone so hot and cute at the same time. The girl was right, too. His voice is the embodiment of angelic. Emmett took this chance to take in all the boys features, from his soft (S/C) skin that reflected the light of the cafeteria. To his intoxicating (E/C) eyes that he could get lost in over and over again. Emmett felt a small pull to (Y/N), and he knew exactly what it meant.

“H-hello? Are you alright?” (Y/N) asked

“I-I um…class is about to start…”

(Y/N) looked at the time and blushed

“So it is…” (Y/N) stood up and started collecting his things “T-thanks for letting me know” (Y/N) stood to leave but was stopped as Emmett stood in front of him

“I was wondering if you could help me study for chemistry? I’m currently failing” Emmett chuckled, rubbing the back of his head

"I-I don't mind, where should we meet?"

"How about the Library after school?"

(Y/N) smiled the slightest bit "Sounds good, now if you don't mind I need to get to class" and with that (Y/N) left the cafeteria heading to his next class. Emmett slowly rejoined his family, still in awe from the recent interaction.

Jasper grinned from the emotions Emmett was emulating

"It seems Emmett is very interested in that guy"

"Hell yeah I am! Did you see him?!"

"We did" Edward answered him, "But"

"But what?" Emmett asked

"I can't read his mind, same with the new girl"

"Does that mean they're a supernatural?" Rosalie asked

"No, they aren't. The new girl is a weird case, but (Y/N) seems to just have fantastic mental walls and barriers. Which is concerning..."

"Then I'll have to break them" Emmett smirked

The rest of the Cullen's let out a collective sigh as they made their way to their respective classes. Still wondering what was going on with the mysterious (Y/N).

The final bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. Students started to funnel out of their classes and into the hallways. Emmett was waiting outside (Y/N)'s classroom, ready to head to the library.

After waiting awhile of waiting, (Y/N) came out of the classroom books and binder in hand

"Hey"

(Y/N) jumped and turned around to see Emmett, a look of relief claimed his face

"You ready to go?"

"Y-yeah"

As they made their way to the library, they made some just talked about their interests and things of that nature, eventually arriving at their destination. After they settled in their seats with the necessary books, they started the study session.

Emmett found it cute, they way (Y/N) would nervously try and help him understand the complex formula's and equations. After a few explanations, (Y/N) sat down and started to work on his homework. Unconsciously, (Y/N) started to sing to himself, making Emmett perk up and look at him.

"You're a good singer"

(Y/N) blushed, "Thanks...but others don't think so..."

"Are you kidding me?!" Emmett stood up, causing (Y/N) to jump a little, "Your voice is amazing!"

(Y/N) blushed at the praise he was given. He'd never been complimented before, so this was new to him.

"Thank you" (Y/N) smiled, making Emmett's cold and dead heart swell with something he's never felt before

"N-no problem" Emmett said before sitting down, and starting to work again, still thinking of that cute-ass smile

Soon, the sun started to set and that was their cue to wrap things up.

"Could you tutor me again tomorrow? If you're free, that is" Emmett asked

"Sure, I should be open. Meet here after school?"

"Deal"

"Then I'll see you tomorrow" (Y/N) smiled at Emmett before walking to his place

To say Emmett was giddy is an understatement. He was over the moon. Not only did he get to be tutored by his adorable mate, but he also got him to open up and be more relaxed around him! He made his way back to his own house and entered with his head still stuck in the clouds. Unaware of the fact that the whole family was sitting in the living room

"It seems that Emmett had an amazing time" Jasper couldn't help but let out his own smile from Emmett's emotions

"Something good happen, Emmett?" Carlisle asked, intrigued by Jasper's comment

"I think he's the one"

"The One?" Esme questioned

Alice snickered, clearly happy that her vision seemed to have came true

"My mate" Emmett replied, still thinking about the fun time he had studying with (Y/N)

"Congrats!! But, make sure you claim him before anyone else!" Esme explained

"He's not an object, Esme" Carlisle chastised

"I know, but humans may not understand their feelings"

"I just have to take things slow. I don't want to scare him off"

~Next Day at School~

"Hey (Y/N)!"

"Hmm? Oh, hey Emmett!" (Y/N) smiled sweetly

As Emmett got closer to (Y/N) he noticed a very distinct smell coming from the boy. "(Y/N) are you alright?" he asked concern lacing his voice

(Y/N) visibly tensed and started to shake slightly. "U-um ye-yeah? I'm f-fine"

Emmett was less than convinced. He needed to know who or what hurt his mate, so he could end it's pitiful existence, then and there. Though, he decided not to add anymore fuel to the fire...yet.

"If you say so. We should head to to class"

"Yeah"

"Are we still on for tonight?"

"If you still want to, then yes" (Y/N) smiled at Emmett causing him to absolutely gush at his adorableness

"Yep! Totally!" (Y/N) chuckled at Emmett's response

While heading to class they just talked about whatever was on their minds. Well, mostly Emmett since (Y/N) is a closed off little bean <3. But, that didn't stop either of them from enjoying themselves. Even once they where in class they softly whispered to each other. Their teacher didn't care much because (Y/N) is a model student and Emmett is a popular kid (you know those teachers that try and get in with the cool kids? Yeah, that's their teacher). When they went their seperate way's for their second block (Y/N) though that was it, like all of the other people he's tutored. He just thought Emmett was being kind and he'd see him after school for their study session. But he was proven wrong at lunchtime.

(Y/N) was eating by himself at a table listening to music and singing along softly when he felt vibrations coming from next to him. He looked over to not only see Emmett, but the whole Cullen entourage in tow. He was shocked to say the very least.

"Can we sit here?"

Collecting himself he responded with a soft "Yeah". The Cullen's then sat down, Emmett sitting on your right and Alice on your left. She squealed and looked twoards you "I've wanted to actually talk to you for a while now! Emmett talks about you and your singing too! I hope I can hear you one day!" This, this was how (Y/N).exe has stopped working. You where an embarassed blushing mess while looking at Emmett in mock betrayal. 'He talks about me?' you thought. He just smirked enjoying your cuteness.

"Ahh!!! He's soo adorable!!" Now you were a even darker red. Only provoking Alice more as she got slightly closer to you. You were about to curl in on yourself when you felt that you were being griped by the waist and pulled into a solid chest.

"Alice, your going to make him explode" Emmett said slightly, just slightly defensive

She laughed "My my what about you then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look down, bonehead" Rosalie butted in amused

Emmett did what she said and saw you an absolute wreck. If a cherry was a person it would be you at this point-

Now he was trying to compose himself. The sight of both of you made everyone at the table start chuckling. After that whole fiasco you got to know Emmett's family and started to enjoy their presence. Something you never really had the pleasure of experiencing...

Over the next few weeks, Emmett did everything he could to be even remotely close to (Y/N). They would do studying sessions at the library, and after they would get something to eat. Well, only (Y/N) did. He thought it was weird Emmett never ate anything, but Emmett assured (Y/N) that he was eating well. They would often go to parks and just have fun too. However, all fun things come to an end. When one day (Y/N) didn't show up to school. Emmett just thought (Y/N) got a cold, but soon days turned to weeks and he was getting worried. He didn't know where (Y/N) lived so he couldn't go to his house and see if he was alright, but one day Carlise came home a little later than usual which was not unnoticed by his family.

"You're back late" Esme commented

"Well there is a teenager in critical condition. He came in with severe lacerations all over his body and what seemed to be marks of repeated tramua as well. He came in a couple of weeks ago and was in a coma until he flatlined earlier this morning" Carlise took off his doctor coat and placed it on the chair making his way to Esme. As he stood next to her he looked over to see his "children" with wide eyes

"Is something wrong?" Carlise asked a bit worried

"When did that patient come into the hospital?" Emmett asked urgently

"(Date). Why?"

With that all of the vampires stood up and started to get ready to go to the hospital

"What's wrong? Where are you guys going?" Esme asked

"That's most likely my mate" Emmett replied, making it clear he was irritated

"Well then what are we waiting for?" Esme rushed everyone out the door and to the hospital

At the hospital, they made their way to the room (Y/N) was at. Once there, Carlisle motioned for Emmett to enter first. Emmett went in and was shocked by what he saw. (Y/N) had many tubes attached to him. His body was wrapped in bandages and his breathing was hitching. Emmett walked over to the resting (Y/N) and reached out for his hand, grasping it softly. He rubbed his thumb over the boy's knuckles in a reassuring manner, then sat down next to the bed, still holding (Y/N)'s hand. He could only think about how much he failed his mate. How could he let this happen? He knew there was something going on, but he did nothing? He turned a blind eye to it all. How can he face (Y/N) when he wakes up? Emmett's thoughts were interrupted by someone's voice

"Who are you?"

"I should be asking you that" Emmett replied

"I'm (Y/N)'s boyfriend"

With that, Emmett's world stopped. Boyfriend? How? Why? Was I to late? Emmett turned to (Y/N) conflicted, but that's when he saw the heart monitor. His heart rate was not that high a while ago.

"Can you leave me with my boyfriend?" (B/F/N) asked harshly

Emmett reluctantly stood up and made his way to the door, but not before taking one last look at (Y/N). Once he was out of the room, Emmett started walking down the hallway back to his family.

"Who was that guy that went in there?" Rosalie went up to Emmett

"Apparently, he's (Y/N)'s boyfriend"

The Cullen's looked at Emmett in sadness and pity, but they noticed something

"You don't seem that bothered about it" Jasper said

"Well, before he came in, (Y/N)'s heart rate was normal, but when he spoke his heart rate rose"

"So, you think-"

"Yeah, his 'boyfriend' must've done that to him"

"That's awful" Esme covered her mouth in shock

"We can't really do anything if we don't have proof though" Alice said irritated

"Then we'll just have to get some" Emmett smirked, making the other Cullen's nod

They made their plan's and put them on hold until you were sent home. In the meantime, Emmett came to visit whenever your 'boyfriend' was never there and if he was, Carlisle was keeping a closer eye on you than normal. He also noticed that (B/F/N) would only ever sit in the chair across the room and when he would glance at you a look of disgust would be present on his face. This further solidified his resolve to get you out of that situation.

~A few days later while Emmett is visiting you~

"We're going to help you (Y/N), Everything will be better soon" Emmett reassured the sleeping male whilst holding his hand. He then felt (Y/N) clench his hand and looked up to see those beautiful (E/C) orbs opening

"Em-"

"Shh, don't strain yourself yet" Emmett stood up and pressed the 'call' button just above (Y/N)'s head before sitting back down

"Where-"

"The hospital...can you tell me what happened to you?"

After a brief pause, (Y/N) shook his ever so slightly

"That's fine, just tell me when you're ready" Emmett smiled sweetly. He saw (Y/N)'s face contort into sadness as he started crying. "I-I'm sorry f-for worrying you" (Y/N) choked out between sobs. Emmett couldn't see him cry like this, so he started to comfort and reassure the other male. "You'll be okay...I won't let you get hurt anymore..."

A/N: I really hope you liked it! Please tell me your thoughts! Sorry it took way longer than I said! I will now be working on the requests I have gotten and a new series I've conjured up ;)By my little Otaku's!!

#emmett cullen #Emmett Cullen x male reader #Emmett Cullen x male!reader #gay #lgbtq #Twilight #Twilight x male reader #Twilight x male!reader #the cullen family #the cullens #pt1 #part 1

514 notes · View notes

sserpente · 3 years

Photo

A/N: Heyho there my lovelies! I’m finally back! I missed posting so much! This Imagine is based on a TikTok I found and what can I say? It inspired me! After this, next up, will be the 20k Special! Enjoy everyone!

Words: 3205 Warnings: colour-blindness

“What if I never find him?” You murmured, glancing at the fruit bowl with a saddened expression. Yellow bananas, green grapes, red apples. To you, they were all different shades of grey. Dull and boring, like you had been sucked into a 30s black-and-white film. Only you didn’t get a cheesy romance out of it.

You had been born with what doctors today would call a ‘remarkably rare, complicated and fascinating condition’, for you had lost all of your colour vision at the age of twelve. You still remembered what the world had looked like before—bright, rich, intense—then someone flicked a switch overnight and all you could still see was grey, grey, grey and greyer. The colours would only ever come back to you once you found the love of your life—your soulmate.

A sigh escaped your lips. Only a few people still existed with this… defect and to make things worse, you had had no idea you were one of them. Not until your twelfth birthday. Society admired and pitied you all the same and yet, being a hopeless romantic, at the end of the day, you longed to finally fall in love.

Tony chuckled. “Heads up. You’re too young to worry about settling down anyway.” He responded cheerfully and pointed at you with a screwdriver in hand. He had been trying to fix the dishwasher for a solid twenty minutes now and for a man who had built himself a pretty much indestructible suit that could fly, it was utterly amusing he couldn’t figure out why it had stopped working.

You were not an Avenger, mind you. The sole reason you were, as of right now, in the Avengers’ kitchen munching on grey chocolate chips was that your best friend, who in turn was friends with Clint’s wife, had managed to flood your shared flat over the weekend. It was utterly inhabitable now and it would take quite a while for the landlord to get it all dried up again—and since insurance would not cover the cost for staying in a hotel, for the time being, Clint’s wife had suggested you’d stay with them—right until Tony Stark had shown up and you had graciously offered you’d come hang out at the Avengers Tower. Okay, technically you had begged him but either way and needless to say, you had jumped at the opportunity and somehow even hoped that you would learn some dirty superhero secrets—but so far, nothing. Nothing but what superheroes did when they were not out and about saving the world. Truth be told, seeing Thor in Hello Kitty pyjamas and witnessing Natasha Romanoff of all people scream watching an Asian horror film had its perks but you had somehow expected for them to be called in for an urgent mission where they required a skill only you had and then they would rely on your help and you would fight and become an Avenger and… your fanfiction had always sounded too good to be true.

“Are you still there? How is that fruit bowl so interesting?” Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you blinked.

“Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I was saying that…”

“Tony?” It was Bruce who interrupted you two, peeking his head into the kitchen almost timidly. You waved at him and he nodded, yet he failed to reciprocate your smile. Uh-Oh.

“Did something happen?”

The scientist nodded. “You might wanna put on your suit.”

“What happened?”

Bruce pursed his lips. “We’ve located Loki.”

Your eyes were still widened by the time you rushed after Tony even after he had told you explicitly (three times, to be exact) to stay put and hide until he had been put in custody.

The Loki. God of Mischief, Thor’s brother, Frost Giant, the I-tried-to-take-over-the-planet-guy. It was exciting, somehow, meeting a villain and oh, would it fuel you for your fan fiction. You almost bumped straight into Thor when they all came to a halt all of a sudden, his body a wall of flesh and muscle and making you grunt in pain—you might as well have hit a brick wall. With his hammer in hand, he ensured no one would approach his dangerous brother closely enough for him to try anything funky.

But the fact that Loki was even more handsome in person and the first villain you ever saw in person when he turned around the corner with a proud and arrogant expression on his face despite his shackles, was not what startled you to the core.

All of a sudden, there were colours. Everywhere.

Your lips parted, the impact of all the pigmentation around you making you dizzy. Loki’s armour was black, his cape was green, his eyes were blue, and his hair reminded you of the plumage of a raven. And your surroundings... The compound was silver now, the sceptre they had taken from him golden. Nauseous, you held on to Thor’s muscly arm for support. The God of Thunder frowned in concern. His eyes were blue too, his hair blonde, his cape red… too… many… colours. You suppressed a gag, overwhelmed by the sudden return of your colour vision.

“Are you okay?” Thor asked.

“G-guys… I can see colours.”

Every single head in the room, including Loki’s, turned in your direction so fast you flinched. Tony’s face was the first to fall in response.

“You are joking, right?”

Mutely, you shook your head. Your eyes locked with Loki’s, electricity rippling through you when they did. His blue irises froze you from the inside out, like each and every one of your limbs failed to resist the magnetic pull you felt towards him, and your cells longed for you to throw yourself into his arms—despite the fact he was handcuffed... and for a good reason too. Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to look away.

Loki was your soulmate. That was impossible; and quite frankly, the god in question appeared to be thinking the exact same thing.

You chewed on your lower lip, anything to distract yourself from your predicament all the while everyone was still staring at you like you had grown two more heads.

“Take him to the cells, I’ll stay with her.” Clint’s hand on your shoulder did little to console you. Part of you still barely resisted the urge to start at Loki like a succubus, the other… the other was terrified and meant to hide in the archer’s embrace.

You could feel Loki’s blue gaze still resting on you when he led you away from the scene, staring daggers into your back and rendering you speechless until you were finally out of sight and Clint shook your shoulder gently.

“Are you sure it’s not one of the security guards that helped bring him in?”

“No… no, I saw them first. Loki was behind them. It’s… I don’t know how to explain it but somehow, Loki was in colour first, you know what I mean? First him and then, a split second later, everything else was colourful too.”

“And now?”

“Now what?”

“Do you still see in colour now?”

“Of course I do.” Clint sighed and buried his face in his hands.

“So what happens if you don’t… act on this soulmate thing?”

“Nothing. Nothing happens.” You said.

“So you don’t have to… stay close to Loki or anything?”

“No. Not that I know of. But Clint—“

“Good. Because he might find a way to use you against us. Stay away from him. Thor’ll take him back to Asgard soon enough. All we need to do first is find the Tesseract.”

Your lips were pursed when he turned to check on them and if Loki was wreaking havoc while they were trying to get him imprisoned.

Stay away from him? Of course… it was the most reasonable thing to do. Loki was dangerous, a criminal… but was that right? Now that you had found your soulmate in him?

You couldn’t get him out of your head that night. Screw the danger, you had to see him. And eventually, your curiosity and that inexplicable and strange pull you felt towards Loki got the better of you. With a deep breath, you threw your covers back and let your bare feet hit the cold floor before quietly tiptoeing out into the dark and empty hallway.

Your blood was rushing in your ears, making you hear things your paranoia and imagination cooked up to the point your heart was pounding in your chest so hard and fast you feared it might jump right out of your ribcage. No one could know, of course. Clint would positively kill you—he, along with Tony, somewhat considered himself responsible for you here. You couldn’t really blame them. If something happened to you, they’d never forgive themselves. You were an innocent civilian, after all.

And now you had been tossed into the greatest fanfiction yet. Shivering, for the cold slowly crept into your bare skin and through the tanktop and shorts you were wearing to sleep, you finally reached the corridor leading to the elevator. The prison cells, a rather new addition to Stark Tower, were located at the very bottom, the cellar, or… what you preferred to call it, a modern dungeon.

You found Loki with his back turned to you in his cell, looking pale through the glass pane. Your heart skipped a beat when he suddenly spoke up.

“I expected you would find a way to come and see me at some point. I’d dare say the Avengers have taken quite the precautions to keep you as far away from me as possible.” He mused. He lifted his chin, approaching the glass window.

It was quite ridiculous to assume that this tiny and meagre prison would keep the Trickster at bay after everything he had proven to be capable of. If only he wanted to, he could shatter that glass with but a flick of his wrist or break the heavy metal door posing as the only barrier between you.

If you were to just… unlock that door to touch him… it would be so easy. Blinking rapidly, you shook your head to chase the thought away.

“Who are you?” He asked and for just a brief moment, you believed to see genuine interest and curiosity sparkling in his stunning blue eyes.

“No one, really. You already know my name, I presume but that’s all there is. I’m not special—I mean, I don’t have superpowers. I’m just a regular human with a rare condition.”

“Oh, I see. Surely you had not hoped for a criminal of all people to be your soulmate then? A murderer? A monster?” His expression hardened.

Yes. But you were not going to tell him that. He was still the person to have made you see colours again, regardless of who he was and what he had done. There must have been a connection between you, you felt it after all! And you were certain that he felt it too.

“Thor will take me back to Asgard and the great King Odin,” he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “will surely have me executed. You will never see me again. So do not worry.”

“I don’t want that.” You finally chirped, barely daring to look him in the eye. His gaze was scrutinising and intimidating… almost as if he was able to see right into your soul with but one single glance.

Loki frowned.

“I bet you’re not happy about this, are you?” A desperate scoff escaped your lips. “I’m not sure I am…” You confessed and sat down on the chair in front of the window. It creaked a little under your weight, the unpleasant sound echoing through the empty hallway.

This man right in front of you was not be trusted and yet, the desire to pour your heart out to him was so strong you felt it like a sea of emotions attempting to drown you.

“You know ever since my twelfth birthday I wondered when I would finally meet my soulmate. Who they would be, what they would be like… and then so many years passed I was beginning to worry I might never see colours again. That I’d be alone and grey for the rest of my life.”

Loki licked his lips and glanced up at you, listening intently to every single word you said.

“Now I met you and they all tell me not to trust you. I mean… I know who you are, I know what you’ve done. I can’t say I’m happy about the fact my soulmate is…” You stopped yourself, breathing in sharply. “What was the universe thinking? You are a god and I’m just… me. We live light-years apart!”

Eventually, after a moment of surprisingly pleasant silence between you, Loki hummed. “The Norns do have interesting ways.” He said, locking his eyes with yours, almost as if he was pondering if… if what? If he could imagine being with you?

“So what should we do? Never speak of it again? Pretend we have never met? I can’t just… come to Asgard with you.” You held your breath when you realised what you were considering here. Loki must have thought the same. He smirked in response—not mockingly but bitterly. “Odin would never allow a mortal on Asgard. If I was to survive my trial, that is.”

“Don’t say that. I don’t care you’re a criminal right now, I just found my soulmate, and I don’t want to lose him again right away, regardless of what happens between us.”

With a start, his face fell. “Nothing will happen between us. That would be unnecessarily cruel, would it not? Your life in the nine realms is but a heartbeat compared to mine.”

“So… this is goodbye?”

Loki hesitated. You noticed by the way his lips slightly parted without a single sound escaping them just yet.

“Yes. This is goodbye.”

The fruit bowl had become your new best friend. In the morning, tired and rather absent, you sat at the kitchen table holding on to a steaming mug of coffee all the while studying the different colours of the fruit before you like a complicated Maths formula.

“Did you have a good chat last night?” Clint barked at you when he entered the room, skipping the ‘Good morning’.

“Huh?”

“With Loki?” He probed, raising his eyebrows in an I-already-know-what-you’ve-done manner.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You said, shaking your head and focusing your gaze on the fruit bowl again. Yellow bananas, green grapes, red apples. In colour.

You flinched when Tony spoke your name. “We saw the footage on our security cameras. You sneaked to his cell last night knowing fully well why you should stay away from him, especially with… with… you know.”

Fuck… the security cameras. You had completely forgotten about those! Of course the legendary Tony Stark would have had security cameras installed all over the damn place!

Busted, you shrugged your shoulders as nonchalantly as you could muster. “I just wanted to talk him. I had to talk to him. I know what you’re all thinking—that he’s evil and brutal and cruel and ruthless… and… and you’re probably right? I… I don’t even know but… he is still my soulmate. I can see colours again because of him for Fuck’s sake! I can’t just… ignore that.”

“I get it. We don’t know what it must feel like. But it’s for the best. We don’t want him to hurt you.”

“I am his soulmate, too. He wouldn’t dare hurt me. You know maybe he’s not the monster you all think he is.”

“Are you saying that because you know him so well after last night or because that is what you want to believe?”

Both. “I just… have a feeling.”

“Right.” Tony clapped his hands. Your name left his lips almost like a plea. “You have to trust us.”

Thor nodded. “Loki is dangerous. You should stay away from him at least until we know he is not still plotting the domination of your planet.”

“What do you mean ‘at least until’? You can stop staying away from him when he’s back on Asgard and out of your reach.” Tony snapped.

“We’re just trying to keep you safe.” Steve intervened. You sighed.

“You know what? I’m getting a headache and I’m still tired, so I’m gonna go back to bed.” That wasn’t even a lie—well, at least the fatigue bit wasn’t. Besides, the blackout curtains in the room Tony let you stay in were heaven-sent.

That was until a loud tumult in the Tower woke you up again, even though you were not sure anymore you had actually fallen asleep once your head hit the soft pillow.

“W—“ Your scream of protest was muffled by a cool palm covering your mouth. You struggled briefly, ripping your eyes wide open in a weak attempt to make out who was assaulting you in the comforting darkness of your room when you suddenly heard a soothing voice shushing you.

“It’s me…”

“L-Loki?” You choked out when he removed his hand again. “Did you… did you break out of your cell?”

“It would seem so. Come.”

“What?”

He tilted his head. “I don’t have much time.”

You stood, throwing the covers back when he already reached for your hand and held it tightly, pulling you with him into the hallway and towards one of the more hidden exists of Stark Tower, a flight of stairs illuminated only by emergency lights.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I am proving to you that I am more than just a criminal.”

“Oh… but… um… where are we going?”

Loki smirked. Your eyes widened when he pulled out the Tesseract seemingly out of nowhere, its blue light glowing brightly in the dark and throwing artistic shadows on his face.

“Hold on tight.”

“Loki…”

The God of Mischief pulled you close, making you gasp. Your chest hit his, his arm wrapping around your waist. With his face only inches from yours, you could feel his warm breath on your lips, and suddenly longed to kiss him.

“You are my soulmate. I am not leaving you behind.”

“What happened to ‘goodbye’?” You chirped.

Loki tilted his head almost threateningly. “You are mine. Don’t you think I wanted to leave this place without looking back?” His expression softened. “But I couldn’t. Because of you.” And you might just be the only woman to ever love me in this way, he added silently.

“B-but… Y-you said Odin will never allow me on Asgard and… and…”

“I never said we were going to Asgard, now was I?”

Your lips parted. Could you trust him? The stranger who had finally made you see colours again? If you told him No, would he let go of you? Would he let you run to Tony and Clint and Nat so they could protect you from him? Swallowing thickly, you met his intense blue gaze and nodded.

Loki smirked and winked. “You are in for an adventure.” And you knew he wasn’t lying. Next thing you knew, you were both hurtled through space and into a shared future.

A/N: ☕

723 notes · View notes

beskar-cowboy · 4 years

Text

The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight

Part 4 of The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight Series

Summary: You catch an accidental glimpse of the Mandalorian without his helmet, his instincts kick in. (4.4k words) link to read on ao3 here

Warnings: NSFW, Mando is kind of mean, the helmet is off but its still canon?, PIV sex, rough sex, he low-key kinda threatens the reader idk, spanking, soft ending to make up for whatever the fuck i just wrote <3

A/N: this series will be uploaded in a non-linear order! i realize that this way of doing things might not be everyone’s favourite so please let me know if you would like to be notified when all the parts are uploaded (linearly in my masterlist) <3

Perhaps swaddling the child to your chest on a desert planet was not the smartest idea. The heat was blistering, even though you wore less layers than usual. Just a tank top, some utility shorts and a blaster holstered to your thigh. And the baby of course, who had not stopped babbling since you left the ship, the only thing distracting you from this damned heat.

You could only imagine how Mando was feeling underneath all that beskar as he walked alongside you in silence, only stealing glances every now and then, as he usually did.

Even after travelling with them for half a cycle now, Mando still withheld so much from you.

Even after the two of you slept together for the first time, after some close call on some jungle planet, he still retreated into his usual silence.

But there were more gentle touches now, more lingering hands, more helmet tilts, but he still hadn’t let you in. You were okay with that, you knew that this was what he was used to, so you didn’t think too much about it.

You let him take what he needs without asking too many prying questions. If you were being honest, you liked the way he used you, you liked how he took it out on you, you liked how rough he got, how possessive, how starved he could be.

It had only amounted to a couple of times over the last month but… but you loved it. You looked forward to it, you thought about it, dreamt of… dreamt of him, of Mando, inside you, above you, under you-

Mando squeezed his large hand around your bicep, breaking you from your thoughts before nodding to you, then he departed. Off to meet with… whoever.

You stayed in the market and bought stuff for the ship.

Some new screws and bolts for parts that were missing or had to be fixed, food rations, dried meat, fruits that you knew Mando was fond of, some weird, shiny little trinkets the child seemed attracted to, and a new bar of soap. You had just finished the last one a few days prior.

After buying the necessities, you wandered around the little market with the child, bouncing him up and down against your chest and talking to him softly. He was very responsive today, not seeming too bothered by the heat thankfully.

But the sun was high in the sky, most likely at its peak, and it was unrelenting. The desert environment of the planet gave way to little shaded spots so you looked for water instead, finding a little mist station where children laughed and played. You ran through it a few times with the child, he screeched with joy.

On your last run through the mist, you caught sight of Mando approaching the two of you again.

That saunter… the way he walked was so intimidating, so sensual. You couldn’t help but let a shy smile stretch across your face at the people who cowered away in fear of the bounty hunter.

You made sure you had all your things in your sling, checking to see that the child hadn’t dropped his new toy and then you were off, heading back to the ship.

The walk felt longer now due to the long exposure you both had in the sun. Mando seemed to be trudging along just the same as you, profusely sweating and in desperate need for some water. And a shower.

Mando opened the hatch and you both stumbled inside, dropping your bags and untying the child from your chest where he had left a giant sweat stain from how tightly he had been pressed to you. Suddenly aware of how sweaty, sticky and disgusting you must seem, the only thing on your mind was a shower.

“I got you some Meiloorun, they seemed ripe.” You smiled at him as you gently placed the child on the floor of the Crest. He waddled towards his father, trying to show him his new toy.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” He said in your direction, that deep modulated voice making you shiver. He seemed hesitant to look away, but picked up the child regardless, letting him show off his new shiny thing. Mando took it into his hands, playing with him, you smiled fondly.

“I’m going to go take a shower if that’s okay? To cool down a bit.” You’re not sure why you felt the need to ask his permission after all this time but you still felt the need sometimes. Maybe he would want help putting the stuff away that you had bought, maybe he wanted you to help with the child or something? You just couldn’t help the way your mind only fixated on the sweat and grime sticking to your flesh.

“Of course.” Mando nodded. You nodded back, turning on your heels to head into the ‘fresher just around the corner in the low cabin of the Crest.

You leave the door open, you think you don’t mind Mando seeing you if he decides to look or happens to catch a glimpse. Even though he’s never taken any of his armor off (besides his gloves) for you before, he’s seen every single inch of you.

You quickly peeled off your damp clothing, turning the water on and making sure it wasn’t too cold but cool enough to relax your heat exhausted body. You stepped in quickly, eager to cool yourself down.

You visibly relaxed as soon as the water hit your burning skin, your shoulders sagging, a sighing escaping your lips. You dug your fingers into your own flesh, trying to knead the tender muscles which strained under the weight of the child and the supplies. It wasn’t much but you still ached, the heat had definitely contributed to that.

Supplies… your new bar of soap! You had been excited to use it but completely forgot about it the second you returned to the ship, mind wiped blank by the desire to rid yourself of your dirty clothes.

Suddenly thankful you left the door to the refresher open, you stick your head out from behind the curtain and call for Mando, wondering if he could retrieve the sparkly blue soap bar for you.

Instead of being met with an empty doorway, you’re met with something else. And it’s as if the world moved around you in slow motion, your emotions moving over you like molasses.

First, confusion.

Hair. A head full of light brown, golden hair. It curled near the ends, into little wisps. It couldn’t be-

No. That couldn’t be Mando. It was as if your brain refused to acknowledge the shiny beskar that sat underneath that head of hair, refusing to realize it was the tin covered man you were looking at.

Second, curiosity.

Your eyes scanned over his head, taking in the way the bathroom light shined over his hair, making it reflect all different shades of brown and caramel.

It was now that you realized that his head was turning, that’s why the light was bouncing off it so dynamically.

His head continued to turn. An ear.

Third, shock.

It was only when you saw the sliver of skin, the shell of his ear, the inner workings of the intricate cartilage, and the profile of his supple cheekbone that you let out a startled, and perhaps unnecessary, shriek.

Your hands flew up to cover your eyes, to shield them from the forbidden view. You turned back into the shower, facing the wall, away from Mando.

He saw more of you than you had of him. He saw the way your chest heaved, the way the water flew off your body as you twirled to face the tiled wall of the shower, away from him. He watched the water hit your back-

You had seen him. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

He hated the way his instincts kicked in. He hated the way he was trained to kill whoever saw him, whoever looked, whoever dared unmask him.

Almost innately, his hand reached for the light switch, plunging the refresher into darkness as he stalked towards you, pressing his hand to your head and pinning you against the cool tile of the shower forcefully and efficiently.

Mando’s body followed suit, bringing both of you underneath the steady shower stream, pinning himself against your backside. The cold bite of his beskar in contrast to the cool water making you whimper, the force of his hand pressing your cheek into the wall made you see stars behind closed eyelids.

“What did you see?” He asked, voice gruff, strained, unmodulated.

Fuck.

Of all the months you had spent aboard the Razor Crest, living with him, fucking him, you had never heard his voice without the helmet, without some sort of barrier. You regret the way it made you moan, how easily he could make you melt.

“N-nothing, I didn’t-”

“What did you see?” He pressed onto your harder, with his hand and his body weight, pining you completely to the wall, making you at his mercy. You cry out at his cold touch, at his harshness. Mando had been frustrated, even angry, with you before but now… now he was about to truly end you.

But all you could think about was how beautiful his real voice sounded. It always sounded beautiful to you, from the moment you met him, it had made you weak, but this… this was unlike anything you could have imagined.

“Hair,” you cry, unsure if you were truly crying or if it was just water from the endless stream running above both of you now. “I s-saw your hair, your ear… I-I’m sorry-” You hiccup, trying to regain your breath and not inhale too much water as your chest heaved.

Without the helmet Mando was quickly realizing that he could genuinely hear you for the first time, your trembling voice ringing through his ears without being slightly distorted by the helmet’s filters. He could….

He could smell you too. The sweet scent of your skin, of your wet hair tangling in his fingers as he continued to hold you in between the tiles and his unforgiving beskar.

You… the sight of you pinned against him, your wet skin, water dripping down your flesh in rivulets, your whimpers, your cries, your tears, the way your eyes closed, the way you kept them closed even now, drowning in darkness, your cheek flush against the tile.

Completely at his mercy.

You weren’t even fighting him.

“Fuck.” He groaned, leaning his forehead against your temple. You whimpered at his sudden movement, so on edge.

You knew he was trained to kill. You knew what happened to people who even attempted to look at him. You had seen it, you had been there when it happened once, ignorant vendors trying to taunt him, trying to tease the Mandalorian. How stupid they were, now dead somewhere in a ditch. Would he do that to you? It would be so easy for him...

Mando wondered if you could see him in the darkness as well as he could see you. He knew you couldn’t, the lack of windows deprived the room of any light sources. Luckily, his eyes were trained and used to harsh environments, low visibility. Luckily, he could see you trembling against him.

He removed his hand from your head, sliding both of his hands now to hold your hips, digging his blunt nails into the flesh, leaving crescent moon-shaped indents behind. You yelped at the sting but didn’t pull away. You liked it.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop talking.” He growled and you bit your lip, unaware that you had opened your eyes due to the deep, dark abyss you had been plunged into.

You could truly not see a thing. All your senses became focused on the way Mando touched you, the way he’s wedged you between the wall and himself, the death grip he had on your hips, the way his breaths came out quickly and evenly onto your cheek. He was breathing almost as hard as you were.

He nudged his nose onto your cheek and you nudge your cheek back onto him, trying to remind him that it was just you, that you’re not a threat, it’s just you, it’s just you, it’s just you.

This is The Way. This is The Way… This is The Way… This… is-

Fuck. You were distracting him. Your little whimpers, the way you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. So willing, you were always so willing for him. So fucking easy and it drove him crazy.

His skin… it felt so good against yours. You had only felt the rough, rarely tender caress of his rough palms. Never of his face, his lips, his nose… You felt like you were being driven insane, you couldn't believe how close his unmasked face was to yours.

You could kiss him…

Mando continued to rub his nose against you, suddenly so lost in the feel of your skin against his. No one had ever been so close to him, so invasively close, breathing in and breathing out the same air, sharing. Feeling your eyelashes flutter against his own, your lips, open panting, swollen and pliant and inviting. He could… he could-

“Mando-”

You’re cut off by his hand suddenly slithering down your body and cupping your cunt. You gasp, unable to help the way your hips involuntarily rock into his hand, into his own hips as well, feeling a growing hardness between his legs.

You were hot, so, so hot down between your thighs. Slippery too, and Mando knew it wasn’t just the water. It was thick, sticking to his fingers, practically begging for him. Mando groaned against your open lips, both of you panting into each other’s open mouths.

“You... you fucking like this, don’t you?” He rasped, biting onto the side of your bottom lip. You whimpered, hips bucking into his hand again. What were you supposed to say? How were you to answer that?

Yes Mando, I like how fucking intimidating you are.

Yes Mando, I like how much bigger you are than me, how easy it would be for you to snap me like a twig.

Yes Mando, I like when you’re rough with me, I get off on it, I crave it, I-

“Fucking answer me.” Mando growls, latching his teeth onto your earlobe now. His hand continued to cup your sex, not truly going anywhere near where you needed him. You still couldn’t fucking comprehend that he was without his helmet, his face right next to yours…

“Yes!” You squeaked as his fingers brushed along the inside of your folds, parting you, dragging his fingers along the length of you, slipping through your sweet cyprine. You let out an unholy moan, so ashamed at how easy you were for him.

Mando kisses your ear, trails his tongue down your neck, collecting the water that pebbles down your flesh as if it were syrup.

This… is, The Way. This is- The Way-

His fingers brush up against your clit accidentally and you buck into him again, desperate for any sort of friction, any sort of attention he could give you.

Mando was trying to calm himself down. He had just been on the brink of snapping your neck and now he was overcome with lust, the desire to fuck you, stuff you full of his cock. The two extremes were dizzying, he felt drunk off of some fancy and expensive cider from some far off planet in The Core. But he supposes that’s just what you did to him.

Before he even realizes it, he’s unzipping his pants, letting the top fall undone and pulling his cock out, letting it rest against your backside. You bite your lip, trying to turn your head to look towards him but your eyes are unable to adjust, you feel as though you can see the outline of his face but… but you’re sure it’s an illusion of the dark.

“Please, Mando-” You weren’t one to beg, Mando wasn’t one to make you beg because he was always as desperate, always as pent up, touch-starved, hungry as you were.

When you two fucked it was never slow, never drawn out, never languid, luxurious. No, it was rough, mean, volatile, desperate and just fucking needy. You needed each other, and Mando fucked you like it would always be the last time, every time. Like he would never have you again, like he would never split you open again.

Mando shoves his entire length into you in one hard thrust, knocking the wind out of you from how deep he reaches so easily at this angle. He rests for a moment, savouring the way your pussy flutters and clenches around him from the sudden intrusion, trying to adjust to his substantial length.

His head pressed right up against yours, he can hear all the pretty sounds you're making, even over the loud patter of water against his beskar which begins to weigh him down from how soaking wet it's getting.

But Mando doesn’t care, he can’t, not when you’re whimpering for him in that pretty way you do, not when you clench so tight around him that he feels like he could cum without even having moved. You beg, you beg and beg and beg for him to move but he just closes his eyes and feels you pulse, hot and tight and snug around him with that perfect little cunt of yours.

You hadn’t seen him, he thinks to himself. You hadn’t actually seen him, he’s okay, it’s just you, it’s just you, it’s just you.

You.

Quivering at the end of his cock, moaning, grasping at the tiles, trying to find purchase on something, taking him all the way in like you always do, like a good fucking girl.

He hadn’t even realized that he had started thrusting, in and out with reckless abandon, bottoming out every single time before pounding back into you, making you whimper and cry.

“W-what’s my name?” He asks suddenly, pulling you from floating away towards whatever astral plane you were near close to ascending too, the one his thrusts were pushing you towards as he rearranged you from the inside out.

You had to think, you had to think of his name because your find was blank, he was fucking you dumb.

“Mando.” You whimper, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against the cold tiles, keeping your head turned so that he could keep his face pressed into your cheek, nose nudging yours, lips brushing but not kissing.

“No… what’s my fucking name?” He grits from behind clenched teeth, punctuating his words between harsh, unforgiving thrusts. You hiccup, unable to swallow down air properly as he fucks you into the wall.

His name?

What did he-

Oh.

His name. Mando had never told you his name, his actual name.

Was this a test? You shook your head ‘no’ as his arms wrapped around you, locking you in place as his ungloved hands came to grope at your breasts, using your own body as leverage to fuck into you harder. You let out a wanton moan, throwing your head back, letting it rest on his beskar covered shoulder. You turned your head and let your lips brush against his cheek but he turned his head too, lips brushing against his own and you both gasped and whimpered in unison. He seemed insistent on not kissing you, so you just went along with it, all your wits being literally fucked out of you.

“I-I don’t know.” You finally answered, your voice coming out small, between laboured breaths.

You didn’t know him, he thought. He still had something of his identity held in privacy, you didn’t know him, you didn’t know him.

“You don’t- you don’t know me,” He begins to say and it makes you cry, you cry against his mouth, your body shaking, bouncing against his, water beating down on both of you. “B-but you still let me fuck you like this, don’t you sweet girl?”

You scream. You scream when his hand lets go of your left breast only to come back down onto it, slapping the underside of the supple flesh. You wail and cry and moan the only name he’s ever told you.

Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando, Mando.

He grabs your jaw in one of his strong hands, angling your face towards his, a sight unseen.

“Answer me when I speak to you, cyar’ika.” He says forcefully, regardless of the nickname.

“Y-yes.” You choke out, trying to nod your head in his tight hold but you barely can. You were right on the brink, you felt as if he were to say one more thing in that deep, rough voice of his you would cum.

“Yes, what?” He grits, fucking your harder, moving his hand down to your neck and pushing you back against the cold tiles, making you yelp and cry for him, at the cool bite of ceramic materials.

“It’s c-cold, Mando.” You whine. He slaps your ass, his hand cracking down on your flesh, no doubt leaving a mark to find again tomorrow. You squeeze your eyes shut, bordering on overstimulation from his cock, his slaps, the water turning colder.

The ship never had a great water supply.

“Answer me.” He fucks you harder, faster, deeper, un-preciously and slaps your ass again, the other cheek this time.

“Y-yes! Yes I..I still l-let you… let you fuck me like this!” You cry and shake against the tile.

Mando’s arms quickly wrap around like they had before, hauling you back into his body. He snakes his hand down and rubs against your clit in fast, precise motions.

Almost instantaneously, your mind goes blank, your eyes roll into the back of your head. One of his arms wraps across your front, against your chest, holding your shoulder in a death grip, his other hand still working on your clit, his thrusts unrelenting as you cum and cum and cum around his thick cock.

“That’s it. That’s it... Good f-fucking girl.” He rasps, holding you tightly, thrusting a few more times before he empties himself inside you with a growl, painting your walls with him, branding you, owning you.

You moan at the sensation, the way his hot cum fills you to the brim before leaking out, back onto his cock and down the backs of your thighs. You both pant, your chest heaving in time with his as he fucks it back into you as deep as it’ll go, stuffing you so, so full of him.

You keep your eyes closed, afraid of opening them, afraid he can see you even in this darkness. Even though you know he can.

Mando stays inside you until he’s softened, relishing in the way your pussy trembles around his girth, sucking him in as deep as you can for as long as possible.

When he eventually does pull out with a low growl, you hear him twist the knobs of the shower, the water suddenly becoming warmer, heating your now freezing skin. All these temperature changes were making you feel light-headed, the rough fuck you just got from Mando not helping your case either.

“Wha-”

“Stay here, warm up.” Mando cuts you off, you hear him step out of the shower.

A series of loud bangs resonate throughout the refresher, making you jump. Only one thing could be that loud. Is he… removing his beskar?

“Mando-”

“You’re always so cold when we’re travelling… can’t believe you were taking a cold shower.” He mumbles to himself, you can imagine him shaking his head. You’re stunned honestly, at how much he’s talking, especially without the helmet, that fact alone still lost on you. His voice was so beautiful, you had thought it to yourself about a hundred times now since you first realized he took the helmet off.

You stand under the warm stream, your quaking shivers slowly dissipating. You feel his presence enter the shower again, this time you can clearly feel his body heat, more flesh. He’s naked.

Mando is standing naked with you in the shower.

You involuntarily step away from him but he catches you, his hand landing on your waist, his hand softly grasping the flesh there. Such a stark contrast to the way he just fucked you into oblivion.

He’s naked.

This man had never removed anything besides his gloves. Even when he fucked you, the armor stayed on. You’re not sure if it was an issue of trust or due to his boundaries or his Creed. But considering he almost just killed you for accidentally seeing his ear and cheek, and was now standing naked with you in the dark… well, maybe it was a bit of both. You were having trouble wrapping your head around all of this, nothing was making sense to you.

The hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, your chests and bellies bump together and you gasp. Mando is firm, you knew this but… but to actually feel him against you, well, you could cry about it honestly.

You felt uncertain about what to do with your hands, unsure if you were allowed to touch him but you tentatively lifted them to his chest anyways, letting them rest against his solid pecs. His skin was soft despite the random series of raised flesh that seemed to brand him, his scars. You don’t think you ever wanted to see someone’s scars, someone’s skin as badly as you do now. But you would right out ask for it, you couldn’t.

You felt Mando lift something to your skin, it was smooth as it glided along your arm, your shoulders, across your back. A fruity, earthy scent filled your nose.

Your bar of soap.

He must have grabbed it before he took off his beskar. You lean into him unknowingly, the hand at your waist moving to hold you against him more easily as he washed you. You let your face rest against his chest, the little spot where his throat meets his collarbones. He smelled like sweat, grime, gun powder, he smelled like Mando.

You pressed your lips to the skin, the skin you knew was tanned and rugged, worn down, tired, in need of more kisses than he would let you give.

At the gentle press of your lips, that’s when Mando speaks again. It’s so hushed amongst the falling water, you almost miss it, but the few words don’t fall deaf to your ears, you hear every letter, every syllable.

“My name...” You look up to where his face would be, trying to imagine what expression he wears as he speaks to you in the dark. Your forehead not too far from his lips, you can almost feel the ghost of them on your flesh.

“My name is Din.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #reader insert #din djarin #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you

915 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

you+me+the Devil, m | myg, jjk | summon

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: The Devil and his right-hand demon are forcibly yanked from Hell to encounter a power they've never seen before, a power that everyone thought was only a rumor. In chains and unable to break free, they are asked to give up part of their souls. And they do. For science. But, mostly, to fuck.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language - if you're religious, maybe skip this one; world building; short graphic descriptions of sexual acts; supernatural and horror (and it gets way creepier during the smut, you have been warned); non-idol!AU - Hell!AU; Devil!Yoongi x chaos!reader x Devil's right-hand demon!Jungkook and switches between their POVs; they don't have your best interests at heart and neither do you.

you and me and the Devil makes 3 prologue | the summoning | the collection | 666

there’s not a word for what i wanna do to you

One second, the Devil, also known as Min Yoongi, was frowning as he gazed up at his right-hand demon Jeon Jungkook, pondering the whereabouts of the missing soul-shards. The next second, the volcanic ground below him exploded, multiple giant red-black rings adorned with symbols and images creating a circle, expanding a larger and larger surface area, crackles of red lighting and tendrils of black smoke shooting everywhere. It consumed everything, bleeding into every nook and cranny of the throne room, saturating the air with summoning intent. It was happening far too quickly for the Devil to stop, the ground splitting and black chains shooting out, surrounded by a deadly ice-silver signature of the kind of magic you don’t bring home to your mother.

“Fuck–!”

That was Jungkook.

“Ah.”

That was the Devil.

The black chains snapped around their bodies and bound them in an instant. Jungkook snarled and fought with all of his power, black wings flaring out that were instantly crushed and shredded by the enchantment, his curved black horns protruding from his head and being forced back by the power. In contrast, the Devil merely sat there. Yoongi knew he couldn’t stop it, not this kind of magic, if it could even be called that, so he didn’t try. He let the chains wrap around him and shackle him. Instead, he furrowed his brow and tried to trace the source, tried to find the purpose. In order to defeat an enemy, you must be informed. Yoongi lived by this philosophy, which was why he was the Devil.

He could not trace it.

That was very disheartening.

But he didn’t need to worry earlier, because the red-black summoning circle was closing in, and he would find out very, very soon who it was. He had nothing to worry about.

Yoongi was the Devil, after all.

You inspected your nails.

Matte black, pointed. You had just done them. You liked to look nice for your guests.

“Hm, the Devil works hard, but I work harder,” you chuckled.

This was not what the Devil expected.

Yoongi expected a dark cave, a crowd of hooded figures, lots of candles. Maybe a Bible or a Koran. Devil worshippers, Satanists, cultists, or whatever they liked to call themselves. He fully expected to fight, to kill, to maim, and to fucking enjoy it, because he was the Devil and he served no one.

That was the whole fucking point of leaving Heaven in the first place.

He did not expect this.

You.

“Oh? A new development.”

Yoongi had seen many things in his time. He thought he could no longer be surprised.

He was wrong.

You stood over the two figures chained to the ground, peering curiously at them. A plain black dress with a flared skirt and a lace high collar. Long-sleeved with small ruffled cuffs at the end. No socks or shoes, just long, beautifully sinful legs and pretty feet. Pointed, matte black fingernails at the ends of lovely hands. A single nail was on one of your full dark lips, small amused smile dancing on that pouty mouth.

Your nail pressed into your flesh.

Yoongi wanted to shove his dick into that mocking smirk.

Sharp, distinctive eyes. Unforgettable. Yoongi would not forget the eyes of the fool who summoned him anyway, but your eyes… They were different. They held no malice. No innocence either. No, your eyes were the greatest mystery of all.

They were an enigma, revealing nothing to the one who could tell everything.

Yoongi did not like this. He did not like how him, an all-powerful being, one who could poison the minds of all other beings, was being confronted with a human who seemed very not human.

You were holding something on the crook of your arm. He narrowed his eyes. A black plush goat-man with horns and an upside-down red pentagram stitched on his head. It had little leather hooves for feet and hands. Black leathery wings as well. Another common misconception of the Devil. As if he wanted to be an ugly goat for all eternity. Hmph. But there was something about the way you held it that made Yoongi think it wasn’t an homage to him.

No, you held it close to your breast, next to your heart, squeezing the plush goat-man’s little arm lovingly.

It made him ache with longing.

They were in a bedroom, on the floor next to the bed. Black sheets, fluffy blankets with white stars all over them. Black walls with posters all over them, cute animated characters, haunting imagery, various musical artists, sinful and innocent, a vast plethora that told him nothing of true intent. Modern, sleek furniture. A high-end desktop with multiple monitors. A nice flat-screen television. Many soft plushies of adorable and strange characters, stacked on shelves and in corners, both popular and niche.

Who was this person?

With every passing second, Yoongi was liking this situation less and less.

Jungkook was beside him, disheveled and disoriented, chained down with black. The demon sat up, growling in his chest, trying to exert his power.

“Who do you think–”

“Ah, little Satan, they shouldn’t talk until I allow them, isn’t that right?”

The Devil was not a fool. You were not talking to him. You were talking to the little goat-man in your arms. Yoongi heard a choking sound and he turned his head to see a very large black ball gag ramming itself in between Jungkook’s teeth, snapping closed with a black chain strap behind his pretty head. Jungkook looked livid, trying to bite through it, but Yoongi doubted he could break it.

You smiled at him.

Yes, indeed, Yoongi was liking this situation less and less.

In some ways.

Seeing Jungkook in a ball gag was a pleasant image.

“I didn’t expect it to turn out this way. I was aiming for him first,” you said to Yoongi, lowering the little goat-man and holding him by a hoof. Yoongi wasn’t sure if he wanted to rip apart the plush or be it. He decided that wasn’t important right now.

“Ah, well, this might be better,” you mused nonchalantly. Jungkook was still fighting his restraints, but neither you nor Yoongi acknowledged it. You crouched down, a delicate flash of inner thigh and black velvet panty in his view. Yoongi narrowed his eyes. You cocked a brow, smirk widening. “Two birds with one stone, no?”

You set the little goat-man in front of him.

Sat down, spreading your legs to squeeze the little goat-man with your inner thighs.

There was no question now.

Yoongi wanted to both be the plush goat-man and rip him to shreds.

“I’ll let you speak to me, Devil. You seem polite.” Conversational, calm. Not condescending, which somehow made it worse. At least if you spoke to him with hostility, he would know how to turn it against you.

“You have magic that doesn’t belong to you, human,” he said softly, a raspy renounce in his voice. He festered it with sweetness and warning at the same time, accenting it with a discerning stare.

You grinned.

Even he, the Devil, was unsettled.

“Nothing belongs to anybody. You only borrow it for a short while and then the powers far beyond even you take it back.”

Yoongi felt his heart drop and race at the same time. As he suspected. This was not the work of his father or some a wayward demon. Magic, power, illusionism, these were all words to describe things that could not be described. Entropy holds no bounds and there is no meaning behind it. It exists only to cause anarchy. For some reason, perhaps simply chaos alone, you, a human, was in possession of something even he could not control or understand.

Shit.

He stared into your eyes and they reflected his expression back to him. He tried to search for it, the desires within the heart, the small tendrils of pain that asked to be soothed, the soul begging to be freed. An ordinary demon could be fended off by a strong-willed human for a while, but Min Yoongi was no ordinary demon.

He was the Devil, even if he was bound by your chains.

You tilted your head at him, hair curling around your cheeks and lashes.

Yoongi could take even the weakest flame of desire and stroke it into a blazing fire. Even the holiest of saints could not fight him. Everyone wanted something, even if it was, disgustingly, in the name of his father. And humans, well, they were the masters of wanting things they couldn't have. Easily manipulated, even by each other. The Devil hardly needed to do anything at all. It was only a matter of whether or not Yoongi cared to do it and, most of the time, he didn't give a single shit.

You tilted your head the other way, smiling.

Yoongi did not find a maze or a barrier preventing him from the soul. He found the soul within seconds. It was there, all right.

The Devil just didn't know what the fuck he was looking at.

Why was your soul just you sitting there in the abyss, looking up at him with the same smile you were giving him right now?

And why did he feel nothing emitting from it?

He pulled back, looking into your eyes again. He did not like this.

You leaned forward and touched his horns.

His eyes widened as your fingertips brushed against the large curved black-red horns against the sides of his head. He hasn't even realized they had protruded. How? His horns were a sign of his power, a symbol he used for fear, for appearance, and for the moments of when he was exercising a great deal of his influence. Your fingertips brushed against the second set, the ones that bloomed upwards into wicked black-red spikes. Both sets? His soul-search had him reflexively procure both?

Shit.

He started into your eyes, seeing himself reflected back. Min Yoongi was the Devil. Emotion was no stranger to him. He harnessed it all, consumed himself in the passions and wonders of emotion. There were ones he felt less, simply because of who he was. For instance, there was not much that made him afraid.

You smiled.

Fear. He could feel it rise within him.

Yoongi grinned back.

Was this what he thought it was? He had heard of such things, rumors and whispers, even amongst the angels themselves. The hidden truth that Heaven and Hell belonged in a specific dimension or realm, Order. That there was another realm, the mirror, the reflection trapped, the unknown.

Disorder.

His kind, the high-above, and those between angels and insects, the humans, none of these belonged in the realm of Disorder. There were rumors that Order was merely a concoction of Disorder and that their realm could collapse any moment, erasing all of existence without a trace. Entropy was waiting for them all.

Yoongi understood now.

This was chaos.

The Devil was a master of desire. And a master of deliberately doing exactly what he shouldn't. He should not be tempted by a glimpse of chaos. His father would warn him to stay away from it.

His father could fuck right off.

Yoongi leaned forward, still bound, his horns disappearing. The chains clanged around him, his power rattling underneath. He wasn't doing it to fight them. He wanted to feel it. To understand what could not be understood, to touch the untouchable, because it was there, there right in front of him and he wanted it, he wanted it, and the Devil feeds off desire, even his own.

He wanted those lips.

You backed up.

The denial only made his desire stronger.

You left the plush goat-man sitting there right in front of him.

Jungkook was pissed.

Absolutely furious, jaw and head aching from this ridiculously large ball gag, fuming that he had no idea what was going on and that a single human was doing this bullshit. There was no way you were working alone. There had to be other beings behind this. He couldn't figure it out right now, but he would and he would tear them apart, right after he fucked your pathetic human body and tore you apart.

You must be a fool, thinking you could shackle him, Jeon Jungkook, the right hand of the Devil himself, the epitome of pure sin and free will.

He continued fighting the magic, trying to exert his strength, rattling the black chains, ice-silver lashes beating him back down. He tried to release his wings, but they were ensnared, pain shooting up his back. Jungkook cared not for pain. He had felt pain for millions of years. A few seconds was nothing. He tried to release his horns, but he could not, as if the very air neutralized him.

He was enraged.

Maybe would simply kill you so he could spend an eternity torturing you for your insolence.

Then the Devil's horns appeared.

How did he–?

Then you touched the Devil.

Jungkook wanted to scream.

He did, deep in his chest, muffled rage, jealousy, hate, all at once, and both of you ignored him, your fingers grazing Yoongi's horns, fucking smiling, looking unflinchingly into the Devil's eyes, and Jungkook wanted to erase you from existence, destroy every single shred of your soul for not groveling at the feet of Min Yoongi.

The horns disappeared and your hands hovered around Yoongi's head, fingers splayed out around the black hair like a shining halo.

Ironic.

The Devil leaned forward.

Don't you fucking kiss her, hyung!

But you moved away, backing up, gaze lingering on Yoongi before closing your eyes and reopening them slowly, a gradual shift to Jungkook's face.

He snarled at you through the gag.

He had you now. Eye contact and Jungkook could exert at least part of his power, the soul-search to find your deepest desires, your hidden gems, the calamity within that would call to him. He would find it and manipulate it, bend you to his will, turn you into his puppet. Play with you until you begged to die, only to find yourself in his arms once more, his plaything for all eternity.

All he had to do was find it.

You slid to your hands and knees, crawling to him. He felt it inside his chest, his own desire, watching the curve of your back to ass, his cock twitching at the sight, his mind conjuring images of your pretty body on a leash. Jungkook didn't have preferences when it came to bodies. A body was a body. In his hands, all bodies became prettier. You already had the base and he already had the wrath to want it. You stopped in front of him, the black skirt of your dress flaring out. He could see parts of your bare body.

Legs, knuckles, knees.

A small, amused smile on your lips.

Eyes that Jungkook searched valiantly, looking for malice, for innocence, for desire, for the darkest shadows and the lightest light.

Why couldn't he see anything?

This must be part of your magic. No matter. Jungkook had other ways. He was creative and cunning. You would break under his hand. He wouldn't stop until it was done. He was a demon that saw things through, even to his detriment.

His jaw was suddenly released from its prison, ball gag disappearing, fading into ice-silver smoke. He coughed, snapping his teeth, glaring at you.

"You dumb bitch," he hissed, violent resonance in his voice, oppressive and intense. "Do you think you humans are above us with your tricks and schemes? Kneel before those who invented such things."

You tilted your head.

Yoongi chuckled beside him.

Jungkook's brows furrowed. What–?

Your body trickled down like liquid, laying against the dark wood floor, looking up at him. Jungkook froze, maddening desire rising, infuriated at your face looking up at him, plush dark lips parted, hands on your chest, fingers spread out and molded to your flesh under the plain black dress. Sinking in, making him clench his jaw.

Your smile like a Cheshire Cat, eyes reflecting his rage.

Jungkook wanted to straddle your face and shove his cock into that smirking mouth, bulge your throat and cheeks with his girth.

"Is he always like this?" you asked, still not looking away.

"He pretends to be nice when he wants something out of you," the Devil answered calmly.

"Isn't that you?"

You still didn't look away from Jungkook. Why couldn't he find what he needed from your eyes?

"I'm always nice."

"That means you always want something out of someone."

Yoongi laughed, raspy and deep, the sound echoing in the bedroom, filling it up with his sound. Why couldn't Jungkook find it? His rage began to become infested with something else. Your eyes reflected only him.

Like a mirror.

No matter. The demons had other ways.

"Come here," Jungkook purred.

"I wouldn't do that."

That wasn't you. That was the Devil.

Your body lifted as if it was on a string from the center of your chest, fingers and black fingernails trailing against the dark hardwood, head tipped back, the line of your neck hidden by the high collar of lace, shielded from his hungry gaze. Legs curling up, skirt pooling around your thighs, his rage molding with carnal need, festering with something else.

Fear.

You rose to your knees, in prayer position in front of him, almost as if you were about to reach out and touch faith. Jungkook furrowed his brow, watching your presence near, wanting it, ready to coax or rip your desires from your lips themselves. It didn't matter if he was bound, it didn't matter if his black suit was torn up and ugly, it didn't matter if he was bleeding from his efforts to escape this magic.

You were still a human.

He was a demon and he would taint you.

Closer, your lids lowering, entranced by his spell. Jungkook smirked. Too easy. Humans were so, so easy. He craned his neck, lips parting, the palpable lust of his breath exhaling. So close to those pretty, dark, fuckable lips.

"You're really falling for it, hm?"

Jungkook paused. His eyes shifted to Yoongi. The Devil had turned his body to watch, clad in a tailored black suit. In contrast, Yoongi's was unmaimed, as he hadn't fought his restraints. The Devil had black hair like him, parted slightly, with shadowy dark brown, cat-like eyes that glinted with something sinister. Pale skin, almost luminescent. Exposed neck, elegantly laid black silk tie, unlike Jungkook, who preferred not to wear one. Lips that demanded you to plead for your life.

A body that made Jungkook want to sin for him.

That was the power of the Devil.

His eyes shifted from Yoongi to you, who had stilled in front of him. Hands beneath you and knuckles pressed to the floor like an obedient pet. What was Yoongi talking about? He had you right where he wanted you. And yet, he hesitated.

Then you spoke.

Delicate and calm, with no resonance. Human.

"I thought demons had free will?" you whispered. "That not even the Devil could control a demon."

Or was it?

Jungkook watched your lips form the words.

"If he is powerful enough, that is."

Yoongi didn't bother warning Jungkook anymore.

The Chaos knew what it was doing.

Clever girl.

Jungkook growled, leaning back a little, letting the passion of emotion course through him, wrath, lust, pride. Fear. All of it. Drawing from it, his power pulsing, singing through his muscles.

"Come here, human."

You had to crawl into his lap, his thighs against your thighs, hardness against softness, bringing your lips to his, sudden and sweet with your legs, knuckles, knees. Jungkook smirked, white teeth and canines flashing, urging you to him.

"What a good little girl,” he breathed softly. “I can be anything you desire. All you need to do is tell me."

Your eyes locked with his.

"A kiss, please."

He groaned at the small plea, finally getting it out of you, finally, and he would make you regret doing this, sow every seed of desire within you and reap it all, turn you into his pet on a leash. All he had to do was kiss you.

Jungkook kissed you.

He pressed his lips to yours, ravenous to consume what you had, eager to claim his offering.

You smiled against his lips, a small, amused smile.

It was instant, his hunger to your plushness, the rush euphoric and wild, immediate lust and power dominating him and now he could taste your tongue and fling open the doors, clawing for the soul within, the moment so close he could taste it, taste your moan sliding into his throat, his favorite treat, intoxicating in the way you sucked in his breath to fill your longs.

Jungkook arrived at the last gate, tearing through the door. Looked down into the abyss, triumphant.

You looked back up at him from below.

A small, amused smile.

A nothingness like he had never felt before.

Jungkook's eyes snapped open and widened, staring into the reflective glass of yours, his chest constricted. He had never felt this. Your lips still on his, tongue flicking, taking his breath, and then he felt a strange kind of compression, like everything was being pressurized, tighter, tighter, suffocating, and he gasped in your mouth, recoiling.

The kiss broke, your eyes still on his, lips shiny with his saliva. Your hand was outstretched, hovering in the air, fingers coated with black tendrils mixed with ice-silver, right above his chest.

Your eyes, void of anything but himself.

“What…” Jungkook breathed, hard cock straining against his slacks. “Are you?”

He didn’t understand. You were only a human. Only a human who had done a very stupid thing, summoning the Devil and his right-hand demon to your bedroom. Just a stupid, foolish human. You tilted your head. Lowered your hand and placed both hands on Jungkook’s thighs. He tensed. You pressed your fingers into his slacks, kneading the firm flesh underneath.

Where was your fear? Your malice? Your innocence?

Where was your desire?

He could only feel his own, rising, rearing its beautiful head, teeth bared and ready to strike as your fingers drummed against the fabric of his pants. You had tried to take something from him in midst of the kiss.

Part of his soul.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?” he hissed, forceful and direct.

You stopped moving your fingers. He wanted to scream in dismay.

“Only a small thing.” Your lips curved into a gentle smile. “A token to remember our fateful meeting.”

Now, only now, did Jungkook not like this.

You removed one hand from his leg and Jungkook clenched his jaw, watching it rise, nearing his heaving chest, the black chains spreading apart, links snapping with ice-silver sparks, but he was still bound, still chained, and he did now know why and not knowing infuriated him. You stopped, right above his heart, the heart he forgot was there sometimes.

The true irony of this world was that angels gave up their hearts to serve the one above and demons kept them to serve themselves.

Jungkook felt it again, the compression of his insides, making his breath hitch and his teeth grind, the sensation unbearable. Your expression remained the same, the small, airless smile. Eyes reflecting his terror.

“I could take it just like this.”

Not a threat, only a statement. Only a testament to the power within you, a power that Jungkook was beginning to think wasn’t something he knew or understood. The Devil could take souls. He could reap them, he could tear them, he could wring them dry. But not like this.

“I will give you a choice,” you murmured, hand retreating, releasing him from the uncomfortable pressure. “Because everyone deserves a choice, don’t they?”

The chains were lessening, slowly slipping off Jungkook’s body.

“I’ll let you give it to me willingly.”

Your hand on his pants caressed the fabric.

“If you have the power to take it,” Jungkook snarled. “Why not take it?”

Your other hand found his other thigh, squeezing lightly, sparks of heat flying through his veins. The chains slid off him, clashing into the hardwood floor and turning to ice-silver liquid that faded to nothing.

“I do not want to take.”

You stopped your touches and Jungkook wanted to scream.

“It will feel better for you if you give.”

He raised on eyebrow. “Considerate of you.”

You smiled wider. He stared into your eyes and only saw himself.

“What do you think, Jeon Jungkook, the Devil’s right-hand man?”

He felt the tendons on his neck tense, expression twisting into anger. You shouldn’t know his name. You were a human. You would only know if he told you directly. Someone else was behind this. Someone who wanted to kill him and the Devil, thereby putting Hell itself in imbalance.

“How do you know my name?” he seethed.

“You told me.”

What?

“When you looked into her eyes, you told her your name,” confirmed a deep, cavernous voice.

Jungkook started, whipping his head to the Devil beside him. No longer chained, simply sitting lazily on the ground, one knee raised to rest an elbow on it. Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“Getting soft, Jungkookie?” the Devil taunted.

How…? Was he so absorbed in his own lust and deceiving you that he did not realize? He looked back at you. Your eyes lowered to his slacks and then back up to his eyes.

“Pants can always come off.”

Jungkook raised a hand, running it through his black hair, jaw set. “You are too greedy, human. Do you even know what you’re doing?” he sneered.

Your hands jerked down a few centimeters closer to his crotch, making Jungkook hiss. Your tongue slid out, feathering against the plush dark mauve of your lips. His cock throbbed with need, demanding to abuse the mouth presented. You leaned forward, putting more of your weight on him, welcome weight that Jungkook wanted all over him. He was a demon, after all. He was no stranger to carnal desire.

“I do,” you murmured softly. “You and me and the Devil makes three.”

Jungkook sharpened his gaze. “You couldn’t handle that, human.”

You said nothing.

You simply removed your heat and turned to the Devil, where Yoongi held the little goat-man plush by a single hoof, dangling it next to his lap, making your crawl into it to reach the doll. It was almost an innocent gesture, the way you took it and tucked it into your lap before looking up at Yoongi’s face, lips parted slightly, nearly curious, childlike awe decorating your features.

Jungkook growled like a hurt animal.

Your eyes shifted to him, looking at him under lowered lashes. Dismissive, vacant gaze.

“Yes or no, Jeon Jungkook?”

“Yes.”

The thin black string between you and him darkened, searing with ice-silver, a contract made. He didn’t even know the terms. He didn’t care. No human could outsmart him. And you, you must have been human once.

The problem was, Jungkook didn’t know if you were human anymore.

Yoongi watched your eyes return to him. The little black goat-man plush was tucked between your legs, pressed against your core. Slowly but surely, he was understanding. The original vessel was human, now tainted by someone, something, or simply bad luck. It made you something else entirely. You were a creature from the realm of Order polluted by the realm of Disorder. How long could this last? Would you die eventually from it? When you died, what would be left? Was the soul still there? Would he be able to collect it? Contain it? Study it?

Yoongi didn’t know the answers to these questions.

He wanted to know.

“Your turn,” you whispered to his chin, warm breath against his skin. “What is your answer, my Devil?”

Yoongi chuckled. “A shard of soul is all you ask for?” he purred. “What for?”

You tilted your head. “I want to complete my collection.”

The Devil doubted that. He doubted you wanted anything. Something was driving the entropy in a direction, a purpose given to the original human you long ago, and now you did it because it was the only thing left in the shell, a memory of a purpose, the human determination so strong that it could not be killed or erased, even though this body was now only a container for the power within.

The Devil had spent a lot of his time lately doing nothing. Nothing fun, nothing exciting, nothing worthy of his attention. Yoongi already knew everything there was to know about humans. He cared not for those above. But this.

This was new.

This was different.

This was something he wasn’t supposed to know.

He raised his hand, fingers tracing your jaw, staring into the eyes of Chaos. The Entropy. The Vessel.

You.

“I’ll be part of your collection, little one,” Yoongi purred.

And you will be mine, he vowed as the black string between you and the Devil glowed, ice-silver magic contaminating it with the power of Disorder.

part ii the collection. if you get in bed, someone will fall in love

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #yoonkook x reader #yoonkook smut #bts smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

185 notes · View notes

sorryimanon · 4 years

Text

Character: Katsuki Bakugou

Warnings/tags: heart warming fluff, language, and suggestive themes

Word count: 2.5k

In which your boyfriend takes it upon himself to pamper you on his day off.

Author’s note: some self indulgent fluff. this is a continuation of dad!bakugou and torch daughter. there will be more. enjoy :)

D/N= daughters name

Katsuki heavily relied on you to babysit your rambunctious four year old daughter during the days when he'd be on patrol from dusk till dawn. Very rarely would he be home before the two of you tucked yourselves in for the night, leaving him to eat the leftovers from dinner alone at the table. As sad as it is, it didn't bother you in the slightest. In fact, knowing Katsuki was keeping the crime rate of Japan low, you were more than happy to become a stay at home mom. Most of your friends tried to talk you out of it, but you were already settled after giving your two weeks notice at your low paying job. Waking up and seeing your daughter first thing in the morning is better than staring blankly at a bright screen all day behind a musty wall, running on nothing but decaf coffee, and sluggishly going to and fro like a zombie.

Ever since your daughter manifested her quirk, you’ve been trying your best to maintain her sudden outbursts while at home. The doctor prescribed it as Torch: the ability to become a human torch and ignite flames throughout your body and fingertips. For now d/n is only capable of setting herself on fire, using the flames as a barrier to protect her from any harm instead of combating. However, sometimes she'll forget to extinguish herself, having you to manually use an actual fire extinguisher on her. Burn marks would litter the outskirts of your shirts, the aftermath ash smudged on your face, and the tiny hairs on your forearms long gone after handling d/n.

Your boyfriend appreciates the way how you compose yourself around d/n, not allowing the temptation to fling the little gremlin out the window prevail, because if the roles were reversed it'd be a whole different story. Sometimes he sits back in his desk chair, after a long night of meandering around the city, and tries to remember the last time you were properly treated. Of course, Katsuki never fails to remind you day and night he loves you through his actions, some including selfish indulgence late at nights, but all in all he didn't lack being the hopeless romantic counterpart for you. He wanted you to take a break from it all, have him handle the at home duties and the slimy daughter. Leaning back against the chair with his brows furrowed slightly, he began to mentally plan out your day already.

It was a Friday when Katsuki forced himself out of the comfortable security that is your arms and walked with light feet to his daughters bedroom. Today is his day off, so he has to make sure everything goes smoothly or else he's going to have more burn marks on his office desk.

He didn't bother knocking first and saunters in the familiar space, the faint snores from d/n somehow relaxing him. Her walls were freshly painted a light shade of blue, the contrast not too saturated to peel the attention away from her posters that covered every inch of her room, all of which were pictures of his prohero colleagues. D/N had to beg for her father to purchase a Deku poster, one of which she saw don display when the both of you brought her to the mall for a quick trip. He internally cringes every time he makes eye contact with the lifeless eyes of Deku when he enters her room.

Katsuki neared his daughter and kneeled down to where his head was leveled with hers, chuckling lightly when finding a small pool of drool collecting on her cheek.

"Wake up little shit," he whispers, nudging her uncovered shoulder with his knuckles, startling her eyes to flutter open. D/n nearly gasped at the sight of her father. The covers that were wrapped snuggly around her fell at the foot of her bed when she jolted up in surprise, eyes brimming with excitement.

"It's today right? Mommy's day!" Katsuki covered her mouth with his abnormally large hand, not wanting her obnoxious voice to blow their cover.

"Yes, but you're gonna have to be quiet for daddy. Don't want to spoil the surprise for mommy, you understand ya little brat?"

Hand still attached to her mouth, d/n nodded her head feverishly, hands clenched into tiny fits. Once he thinks she's shimmered down a little, he finally removes his hand and motions her to follow him.

Meanwhile in the other room, you were still fast asleep, limbs not once switching from their position over the cozy blanket. The chill breeze from the propped window regulated your body temperature nicely, along with the beautiful songs sung by the birds that reside in the trees close by. You stirred awake momentarily, feeling the loss of a presence that's usually laying beside you during these times of slumber. Katsuki's side was empty, the indent from his body molded onto the foam mattress, leaving you to believe he woke up not that long ago.

After convincing yourself to leave the comfort of your bed, you decided to search for the missing blonde. You crack open the door to a weird combination of radio music blaring throughout the house, and the delicious smell of something cooking in grease. It's no doubt your boyfriends doing. He always likes to impress you with how skillful he is in the kitchen. He hasn't made a dish you disliked yet nor will he allow himself to do so.

Standing side by side, minus the height difference, d/n and Katsuki both were too immersed in their cooking to notice you leaning against the island counter, trying very hard to not cry instantly at the sight in front of you. Watching them interact together was definitely something you'd be treasuring for the years to come.

A rush of savory and sweetness infiltrated your senses, the scent strong enough to knock you back to sleep. As if he read your mind overnight, Katsuki took it upon himself to prepare your favorite breakfast dishes. The dinner table made for three already set by none other than d/n, who currently looked proud at her work and craftsmanship. A large vase was propped in the center, a collection of vibrant flowers stuffed to the brim, the water inside almost overflowing. Attached to one of the stems of the flowers was a tag, the handwriting sloppy and hard to decipher.

To my dumbass, love ya - K.B

You felt the delicate touch of your daughter wrapping her hand around yours, giving it a slight tug before pulling you into the kitchen again. Katsuki flicked his gaze to you now, flashing the same mischievous grin you grew to love. his hands simultaneously worked on the food while taming the animal, that is indeed your daughter, from bumping into the pan handles.

"What's all this for?" You asked, the question directly appointed to both your boyfriend and daughter.

"Oh, so I can't treat my sexy girlfriend to a good meal?" he teased while setting the burners to low, letting the food cool off before plating it. Your daughter audibly gagged at the comment and swatted Katsuki's arm.

D/N's tiny legs were faster than yours and reached the cabinet where the plates and cutlery were stored at. To her dismay, the cabinet was higher than she anticipated. trying her best to waiver down the disappointment as she climbed on the sleek marble counter top, losing her footing here and there. Katsuki caught her in time before she misplaced her footing and almost toppled onto the floor.

"May I need to remind you not to climb on the damn counter tops anymore d/n?" he scolded as he put her down before grabbing enough plates for everyone.

Pursing her lips tightly, she crossed her arms and said, "But if I'm going to be a future hero then I have to battle my way through tough obstacles!"

U.A's immense training and work studies came in handy when dealing with d/n's hard headed ideologies. It's been a stressful reoccurrence, having to constantly teach her the importance of being a hero at such a young age. Her impulsive tendencies mirrored the blondes old habit of taking action before thinking. But there was always a saying when storing away your fear and facing danger head on.

"That's true, but sometimes a little teamwork wouldn't hurt. Your father should know a thing or two about that when he was a young U.A student," you said as you patted her head.

"What'd you say shitty woman? Talking crap so early in the morning already?" a strange popping sound alerted you to turn around, only to find Katsuki flaring his flashy quirk with a glare that could splice you open.

But his alarming gaze wasn't the thing that was scaring you at the moment.

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT USING YOUR QUIRK IN THE HOUSE! YOU'RE GONNA SET OFF THE FIRE ALARM AGAIN, IDIOT!"

You thought the smorgasbord of a breakfast was the last of your boyfriends romantic gestures, but you should've known better once he demanded you to change out of your sleep attire and into something to wear outside. Not thinking twice about where he was dragging you to, including daughter, you decided to play it safe. He approved on your choice of ripped jeans, synthetic tank top, and thrown on cardigan once heading off to the car.

The car ride to the mysterious destination was short lived as your boyfriend pulled up into the driveway of his old house. Mitsuki stood waiting by the threshold of the doorway, waving her fingers sweetly to whom you can only assume was you and not her only son. She stepped off the porch once Katsuki shifted the car in park, unlocking the doors as well. His mother reached the side where d/n stayed strapped in her seat and yanked the door open.

"Ah my little princess! How have you been? I missed you so much!" She unbuckled d/n's seat belt and flattened her in a tight hug, squeezing till her eyes popped out. "I can't wait to spend the weekend with you baby girl! Are you excited to have a little fun with grandma?!"

"Calm the fuck down, you're gonna kill her if you keep squeezing!" Katsuki's voice boomed out of the window.

"Oh pipe down you little shit I'm not harming her! Also don't talk to me like that! You're old enough to treat me with some respect by now!"

"SHUT UP YOU OLD HAG! JUST TAKE THE LITTLE GREMLIN AND GO!"

After the heated exchange, Katsuki eventually calmed down and drove the two of you back to the house in complete silence. It was quite a shift in a sense of environment wise. By now d/n would be begging you to make her some pudding or pour her a cup of lemonade, then place yourselves in front of the tv watching a random kids program till evening. Tonight you lend the torch to your boyfriend, allowing whatever devious plan he conjured up to unfold.

Before you could shuffle into your shared bedroom, Katsuki placed his calloused hands onto your cramped shoulders. Merely centimeters from your ear, he laid a chaste kiss on the area beneath it, smiling at your innocent reaction to his sudden actions and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You smelt the familiar scent of caramel and men’s soap, both of which you undoubtably loved when combined.

“Suki?” Upon hearing his nickname, Katsuki quirked an eyebrow at you. “What’s with all the romantic gestures lately? Cooking my favorite breakfast, the flowers, and our daughter. Don’t get me wrong, I love her! It’s just nice not to worry about if she’ll set the curtains on fire again.”

You felt the vibrations of him chuckling behind you.

“Isn’t it obvious? I just want to fuck the shit out of you,” you sat paralyzed by his bluntness. his tuft hair tickled the underside of your chin, earning him an acute giggle from you. “I’m just kidding, pretty face. I figured you needed a weekend where you just relax and did nothing. Let me do all the work. That’s including getting rid of the brat.”

Shifting in his arms to where you can face him, you can now see the adoration oozing from usual heated glare of his vermillion eyes, the scowl long gone and replaced with a soften feature not so many from the outside can witness. To think this was the man you devoted yourself and love for, to allow him to bare witness anything and everything you endure. He’s a man of showing his compassion through his actions, not lousy words of affirmations that anyone could sputter out and proclaim its love. No, he reflects back everything right with the world, even when you felt the weight of it searing through your system, dragging it down with you. The same explosive blonde awaits patiently by the opening for you to enter, no matter how long it’ll take for you to accept his love. Because he’ll be there. Waiting.

And here he is waiting. In your arms to repeat those three words you made out from watching the movement of his lips.

The words leave your mouth effortlessly, the proclamation hanging in the air between you two.

“I love you too, Katsuki. Thank you so much, for everything.” Like so, you kiss the plump flesh of his lips, the same inflammation of your heart burning as before. The strong muscle of his tongue prods your entrance, practically begging by licking your bottom lip. Katsuki grabbed your chin as gentle as he could muster, titling it for a better leverage to explore your mouth in return. Your hands trailed across the defining shape of his collarbones, rubbing any part of his body so that your fingers remained busy. Both of you hum in satisfaction, relishing in the feeling of the intimate moment. To your disliking, he removes his lips from yours and hovers instead, panting from the mini-make out session seconds ago.

“I’m going to marry you some day, mark my words. So don’t act fucking stupid when I pop the question,” he hotly proclaims, not once removing those piercing red eyes from yours. That’s when you knew he wasn’t bullshitting. If there’s one thing you learned about Katsuki over the years of dating, is that he doesn’t throw out promises in the air nonchalantly without keeping them. You can vaguely hear the ominous sound of wedding bells in your ears.

“Sounds intriguing. I always wanted to see you in a suit and tie.”

“Ya know, maybe someday might be tomorrow-.”

You cut him off with a scorching peck, making his eyes widen and dilate with every given second you laid your lips onto his. “Shut up babe and ravish me already.”

A mischievous grin forms on his mouth as he links his arms around the back of your knees and hoists you over his shoulder. He erupted into fits of laughter after hearing you squeak from the abruptness. The door to your shared bedroom came into view, your boyfriend kicking it with his free foot before entering through the threshold.

“You’re in for a long night sweetheart. Now that our daughter isn’t here, I’m not holding back on anything,” he threatens as he lays you down on the comforter.

Another thing you learned from your relationship. Katsuki is always true to his word.

#mha imagines #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #mha x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #dad!baku #bakugou smut #kacchan #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsukibakugou #bnha katsuki x reader

687 notes · View notes

cl-01-kestis · 3 years

Text

The Fall of Atollon

Dismay - Grand Admiral Thrawn x Rebel!Reader | Part 1

Summary: a decade and a half flies by and Omani is growing into an adult. It’s your responsibility to protect her from the dark truths of the Empire.

Warnings: very long, violence, angst

(Omani looks like this, using Ar’alani for reference)

“It’s too hot out here” You puffed out, lying on the ground beside Omani who was gulping down her water bottle at a rapid pace, wiping the sweat of her forehead as she hummed in agreement.

“That’s Atollon for you, Tiscen’i, but I agree... I don’t think it’s ever been this hot before” Omani panted as she removed her top, her black sports bra covering her chest as she dumped her T-shirt next to yours. She lay in the other direction from you, her head beside yours as the two of you bathed in the suns light.

As mother and daughter, shockingly, no one would ever guess either of you were related. She was mistaken to be a full blooded Chiss most of the time she met someone new. But when you say you’re her mother, that makes things twice as shocking. One, you’re a human, and two, you look stunning for your age, barely looking a few years older than Omani. Since Omani was now considered a grown up, your attitude started to change with her. Instead of treating her like a little girl, you treated her like your best friend. The two of you shared everything to each other, embarrassing stories, who you thought was attractive, countless inside jokes, but never your past. You’d lost count of how many times your daughter asked you who her father was, she was practically his double and you felt like you were cheating her out of her own heritage, but it was for her own safety.

She had sprouted into such a beautiful young woman, she had been promoted to general recently due to how much effort she had contributed to the rebellion. You used to be a general yourself, however you switched to a Senator after Omani was born with the guidance of Bail Organa, your mentor. You only attended the senate a handful of because of your betrayal to the Empire, you couldn’t risk being identified by a once known ally and trialed for treason. You couldn’t do that, not to Omani.

“Any more news about Thrawn?” You asked, biting the inside of your cheek as your daughter scoffed and let out an almost disgusted sigh.

“Unfortunately yes, that bircisb’s close to discovering the base... I’m doing all I can to keep everyone safe here, including you” Omani turned her head to look at you and noticed the frown stuck on your face. She was going to ask but thought it would be best if she kept her mouth shut since all you ever did was ignore her concern whenever she asked.

Thrawn, her father, was a man she wanted nothing more than to shoot. She was aware of his Chiss origins and even saw him once on a holo recording with you beside her, nearly on the verge of fainting. It took you all your strength not to tell her the truth, but thankfully she didn’t suspect anything about her possibly being related to him and digging into it.

“You work too hard visahot, but you remind me of myself when I used to work for the Empire” You joked dryly, earning a soft chuckle from Omani who leaned her head against yours whilst blocking her bright red eyes from the sun.

“Did you ever meet him whilst you were in the academy? Maybe Tarkin or Vader?” Omani asked curiously, shifting her body at an angle so the back of her head was resting on your shoulder.

“You’d never be lucky enough to see Tarkin or Vader... they were far too superior to be in an imperial academy,” You started.

“But Thrawn? He was the meanest and most serious man I’d ever met” Your voice was oddly calm as you spoke to Omani. She was surprised when the words left your mouth, this was the most open you’d ever been with her and of all the things it was about the man causing terror to their rebellion?

“So you did meet him?” Your daughter smirked, rolling onto her stomach so she was looking at you, her face upside down from where you were lying. You smiled at her expression and shrugged.

“Comrades, but I only spoke to him once” You lied through clenched teeth, sitting up and avoiding bashing Omanis head as she leaned back and sat up with you. The two of you looked at one another and for a moment, all you could see was Thrawn. She was so like him, mannerisms and even accent. The only difference was what side they fought on, a father and daughter on opposite sides and neither of them even knew of their connection, only you did.

“You never really open up about your time at the academy, was it really that bad?” Your blue skinned daughter raised a brow, her beautiful red eyes looking straight into yours as if she was searching for the truth.

“It’s an experience I’m not willing to fully share yet, visahot, but one day you’ll know” You reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder, patting it in an assuring manner which seemed to put her curiosity to the side for the time being.

A flock of loud shouting had brought the two of you out of your thoughts and you stood up immediately, throwing on your shirt and waiting for Omani who ushered you forward whilst putting on her own shirt, tugging it over her head clumsily whilst running to the holo table which all of the rebels surrounded. You spotted Hera Syndulla, her face melting into a frustrated frown. You noticed there were multiple star destroyers that popped up on the hologram, a flock of them right above Atollon.

“Oh no...” You mumbled, heart dropping to your feet when you realised what this meant for you and the rebels.

“Thrawn’s planning an orbital strike on Atollon” Hera said, trapping her chin between her index finger and thumb. You looked at her with wide, terrified eyes, wishing this was all some kind of nightmare. Omani reached out and held your hand out of fear, staying close to you as you both looked at the hologram.

Zeb and Rex had installed a protective barrier around the base, but you weren’t sure how long it was going to hold up for. Omani had left to get dressed and get her things packed, her blaster in her hand when she returned and was called to plan out what was going to happen by other rebels. You stayed with Hera, practically on the verge of hyperventilating as you knotted your hair with your fingers, trying to control your breathing.

“Hey, don’t get all scared on me now, you’re the bravest woman I know on this damn planet” Hera walked up to you, taking your hands away from your hand and holding them tight. You sniffed, nodding your head as a few tears left your glassy eyes.

“Death isn’t what I’m worried about” You whimpered, Thrawn’s face coming into mind when you looked back at the star destroyers. You were afraid to look at the sky, too petrified to even think of anything else apart from the fact that Thrawn was here.

“Then what is it?” Hera asked with confusion, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and taking you away from the table since the image wasn’t making you feel any better. You rubbed your eyes, swallowing down the lump in your throat and trying your best to stay strong for the rebels.

“I can’t say, but promise me if anything goes wrong, you’ll get Omani away from here?” You looked up at the Twi’lek, pleading with your eyes as your hands trembled by your side. Hera nodded sternly, pulling you into a brief hug before excusing herself to prepare for the upcoming orbital strike, leaving you alone in a flurry of anxiety.

You rushed to your room, which had once belonged to you and Ahsoka but now her side of the room was taken up by Omani. You grabbed your jacket and pulled it over your arms and back, grabbing two blasters and a locket which you had since your Imperial days, a locker Thrawn gave to you.

When you got back outside, the orbital strike was taking place. Panicking, you screamed out Omanis name over and over again, looking in all directions before you saw her far away watching the strike with her friends by her side. You let out a sigh of relief but you ran to Hera who was staring up at the herd of incoming green lasers slamming against the barrier. You could see the barrier starting to weaken, you trembled beside Hera who looked away just as the shield was about to break, when all of a sudden the firing stopped.

Everything was dead silent for a while, the sound of burning surrounding the outside of the shield and clouds of black smoke rising from the ground.

“It held! It held!” You heard Zeb yell in the distance, a relieved smile making its way onto your face after some time. You turned to Omani, noticing she was laughing with her friends and rubbing her eyes as if she’d been crying.

Looking over to see you, she bolted in your direction and slammed her body against yours in a tight embrace, her arms wrapped tight around your neck as she held back a sob in your shoulder. You stroked her navy coloured hair, pressing a firm kiss on her temple before pulling back and cupping her face with your hands. No words were exchanged as the two of you smiled at one another before hearing the voices of Zeb and Rex requesting your help.

This wasn’t exactly the situation you were planning to be in. You, Zeb and Rex all hid behind a large plant on the outskirts of the rebel base where most of the air strike had hit. The smell of burning and dirt filled your senses but now was not the time to complain, now was the time to hopefully take down the Empire’s ambush.

“I hope this plan of yours works” Zeb said to Rex, the three of you looking ahead at the desolate patch of land ahead and waiting for any sign of movement.

“Yeah...me too” Rex replied in a not so confident tone, causing you to look up at him with a frown but you let it slide for the time being. Rex looked through his binoculars, inspecting what was in the distance as you and Zeb as well as lots more other rebels awaited for the order. The familiar sound of metal creaking caught your attention and made your hearing perk up. You listened in, recognising the sound that belonged to an AT-ST.

“Here they come” Zeb nervously informed you and Rex. You held your breath when Rex pulled out the small detonator in his hand and not wasting a moment as his thumb pressed down eagerly on the red button at the top.

Three explosions erupted ahead of you and half of the AT-ST’s were taken down in seconds. Pressing the button once more, two more ST’s were taken down but one of them managed to get through the barrier. Zeb stood up behind you and Rex, holding a massive rocket launcher with a big grin on his purple face.

“Left one for you” Rex smirked, his grin matching Zeb’s as he ignited the rocket launcher which flew right into the middle of the ST, exploding as it touched the surface. You cheered, patting Zeb on the shoulder as you stood up to inspect the damage from a distance. Your coms link went off on your wrist and you brough it up to your face to see that Omani was contacting you.

“Hey Mom! Was the mission a success?” Her voice was eager but also full of concern.

“Yes Princess, Rex and Zeb took down 6 ST’s! Safe to say we’ll be okay” You assured her with a smile, speaking clearly into the mic of the coms.

“That’s a relief” She chuckled.

“I hope you’re safe back at the base? Don’t sneak out and join in the action, as tempting as it is” You warned her, frowning slightly when it went silent briefly.

“You know I don’t sneak around, Tiscen’i, when have I ever denied you?” Omani spoke in an almost sarcastic tone but it still managed to make you laugh. Just as you were about to reply, a loud noise came from the distance and you and Rex snapped your heads towards it.

“I know that sound...” Rex murmured.

“Yeah... and I hate that sound” Zeb snarled.

“I need to go, somethings happening- I love you visahot” you said quickly before cutting off the line, giving no time for Omani to reply and give her more reason to worry for your safety.

“Lousy four leggers” Rex growled, drawing your attention to the four AT-AT’s making their way towards you.

“Hit ‘em with the detonators” Zeb urged with a scowl, still holding the large and now empty rocket launcher. Rex pressed down on the small button in his hand once more, causing more bombs to go off, only this time none of them effected the AT’s and they still continued moving forward and eventually passing through the barrier.

“We need Sabine to create a shield you can’t walk through” Zeb spoke in a frustrated tone, his eyes flashing with anger but also concern.

“Let’s hope we get a chance to tell her” Rex agreed before turning on his heel and making a run for it. Wasting no time, you followed the clone and the Lasat deeper into the Atollon forest and further away from the AT’s. A loud explosion erupted behind the three of you and you realised the AT was targeting you all as well as the other rebels who stayed behind you, Zeb and Rex. You didn’t bother looking back as the sound of X-wings and tie fighters roared through the sky above you, shooting at each other and some eventually zooming down to crash near you.

You got behind one of the massive leafs behind Zeb and Rex and started shooting at the AT closest to you, only for it to angle its head down and start shooting at you once again. You ran forward and the three of you hid behind a lead individually, exchanging glances of reassurance before a loud buzzing noise echoed behind you. You turned and peeked around the leaf, only to witness the magnificent sight of Kanan Jarrus cutting through the AT’s legs, the large machine eventually stumbling to its knees until its head crashed down on a few stormtroopers.

“Kanan, glad you could join us!” Zeb shouted in delight as the Jedi ran up to the three of you with a smile.

“Hera said you’re bringing help?” The lasat asked with a hint of curiosity, turning on his foot and resuming his running with the three of you behind him.

“Maybe, maybe not!” The Jedi responded, earning a frown from you as you kept your pace up so you didn’t trail behind.

The four of you ran right into a small tunnel, following the rest of the rebels as a loud storm rumbled above you. Your pace didn’t falter as you heard the distant whistling of a ship landing and if anything it only made you run faster. Kanan directed you through the tunnel with his lightsaber, coming up to two tunnels.

“This way!” As he pointed which direction you should go to next, a death trooper emerged from the corner and started shooting at the four of you.

“The other way, the other way!” He panicked, running into the other tunnel with you trailing behind him. Your heart was pounding in your ears and you felt like you were going to pass out at any moment, but you held onto that tiny bit of energy you had left and brewed it into the determination to survive and be able to see Omani again.

After escaping the endless nightmare called the tunnels, you made it back to the base and scampered to the holo table hiding in between crates as the noise of the AT’s guns shot up at the shield.

“Kanan! You made it, what happened with your friend?” Hera asked in a stern tone. You, Zeb and Rex put your bodies against the crates and guarded the entrance, making sure no stormtroopers were coming in as Hera negotiated with Kanan.

“Oh don’t worry, I think he’s coming” Kanan replied.

After a few seconds, the team was moving and you had your blaster wrapped tightly in your hand, your finger hovering over the trigger. The generator behind you broke and the shield was taken down, resulting in incoming ties and imperial reinforcements.

A transport left the bay but was unfortunately shot down which made you stop dead in your tracks. Zeb stopped beside you and his ears drooped when he realised what might’ve happened.

“Omani!!” You cried, immediately dialling into your coms but only for a blaster to be pressed against your skull as a death trooper shoved you forward towards the rest of the group. You sobbed, sniffing and trying your hardest not to cry when all you could think about was the fact that your daughter might’ve been on that ship. Zeb held you close as you continued to cry whilst a blaster was pointed dangerously close to your face, the death trooper muttering something you couldn’t quite understand due to the audio of their helmet.

“And now, Captain Syndulla,” A voice spoke from the clouds of smoke, causing you to stop your crying and lean back with wide, shocked eyes. It couldn’t be.

“I will accept your formal surrender,” You stood frozen in your spot as Zeb shielded you protectively from the man who had just made his grand appearance.

“I don’t believe it” You whispered, but the death trooper noticed and bashed the edge of his blaster harshly against your skull.

“Or you will watch your friends perish, one by one, beginning with the Jedi” You backed away, reaching for your blaster as Kanan ignited his lightsaber and everyone else sheathed their weapon of choice. Painfully, you turned around and looked at the trooper standing behind you, pointing your blaster at his helmet and staring at him with a teary scowl.

“You already know my answer” Hera hissed with disgust glaring strongly at the Imperial dressed in white that you absolutely refused to look at no matter how much he threatened your friends. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be.

Just as you were about to shoot the trooper, a loud thunder strike boomed in the sky and only then did you remember the storm from earlier. You turned to look up at the storm and so did the death trooper, your blasters lowering slightly as you set eyes on the large black clouds hovering above all of you.

“Do you fear the storm, Master Jedi?” Thrawn smirked, his hands clasped behind his back as he approached Kanan who blindly stared at the sky with a worried face.

“Yeah. And you sgould too” The Jedi replied, right before a dangerously close lightning strike hit the ground and missed Thrawn by at least a meter.

“Hang onto something!” Kanan warned before unsheathing his lightsaber.

“What kind of Jedi devilry is this?” Thrawn glared up at the sky, his forearm shielding his gaze as the wind picked up and the thunder grew louder.

Barely seconds later, a blaring, deep voice exclaimed from the sky. “I am the Bendu”.

Two glowing orange eyes opened in the cloud and you found yourself dumbfounded by it. Never in your life had you set eyes on something as magnificently terrifying as this!

“What is that?” Zeb asked next to you as you took subtle steps away from the Chiss and his men. You looked to Hera as she looked to her partner. “Uh, Kanan?”.

“I told you my friend was coming” He exclaimed in a tone you couldn’t quite identify, it was a mixture of confidence but also fear.

“I bring death!” The thing called Bendu proclaimed.

“He’s nice!” You yelled sarcastically, frowning at Kanan who smiled very awkwardly. You looked over to see that two colossal lightning bolts had hit two of the AT’s, immediately destroying them and causing them to fall to the ground. Unlucky for the group, more lightning bolts started crashing their way towards you and without thinking twice, you bolted in the opposite direction with everyone following you. You skidded behind a crate, peeking behind it to look up at the gigantic monsterous being that was less than happy.

“Leave this place” don’t have to tell me twice, you thought with a frown, looking to your left to see a few death troopers hiding behind their own crates.

“I am the light, I am the dark” You found yourself watching Bendu with fascination but you were still fearing for your life, looking to Hera and Kanan who were looking just as surprised as you were.

“I am the Bendu!” The cloud bellowed before sending more lightning down to strike the death troopers who had been obliviously out in the open.

“You heard him! Make for the ship!” Kanan turned to all of you, his lips in a thin like as he gripped his lightsaber tightly. You all nodded, but just as you were about to run, you stopped as everyone else left for the ship. The thunder was so loud but you looked around despite the fact you might be killed right here and then. You watched the remaining death troopers yell to one another as they tried shooting at the cloud.

You stood in the middle of the platform, looking at the man dressed in white who was looking at the cloud as if he had no fear. You couldn’t tear your eyes away and eventually ended up being spotted by one of the death troopers. Aiming your blaster, You shot him down but drew the attention of Thrawn whilst you were at it.

You heard the voices of Kanan and Hera call out to you as they watched in horror when Thrawn turned around and finally spotted you. Your hands trembled violently as they gripped onto the blaster that was aimed right at Thrawn, your face a mask of fright as Thrawn’s eyes widened and his face morphed into a frown, a very angry frown.

The lightning didn’t distract either of you as your blaster kept its aim, level with your face but it was low enough for Thrawn to see all of it from a distance. He knew who you were, he didn’t see you in the group because you were hidden and his attention was mostly on Kanan but now, now he had a whole new mission, a whole new ambition for upcoming missions.

“(Y/N), hurry up we gotta go!” Zeb screamed your name but you didn’t move, you were frozen as Thrawn drew out his blaster and pointed it right at you. There was a fire in his eyes, a fire you had never seen when you used to know him. It alarmed you greatly.

“Leave without me! Omani’s gone, I’ve got nothing left to live for!” You yelled back through tears, looking back to the crew who were all staring at you with wide, agonising stares.

“No, I won’t leave you!” Kanan exclaimed, jumping off the ramp and running up to you whilst igniting his lightsaber, ready to deflect Thrawn’s blaster as he grabbed your arm and started dragging you to the ship. You started shooting aimlessly at Thrawn, screaming and crying as you pictured Omani in your mind. Thrawn didn’t shoot back and he didn’t move either, all your shots missed him and you chucked your blaster on the ground after giving up.

You ran with Kanan to the ship in tears, the ramp closing behind you as you collapsed onto the floor on your hands and knees. Your arms bent and you leaned your head onto your hands, your cries echoing around the ship as it flew into hyperspace.

Hera wrapped an arm around you and pulled you back, sitting with you on the ground and resting your head on her chest as you continued to let out your tears of pain and anger. The crew watched with sadness, wishing they could comfort you but they were ushered into their rooms by Kanan who stayed with you and Hera once everyone was away.

#star wars #x reader #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn #thrawn x reader #star wars rebels

78 notes · View notes

lokisasylum · 3 years

Text

Saw this tag last night and thought it was pretty cool, but was passing out from exhaustion from the vaccine so I couldn’t do it.

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). see if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag some of your favorite authors!

1. No Ordinary Love [BTS, yoonmin - Still in the works, but I wanted to add it because I really like the Prologue]

When I entered the club that night… I wasn't expecting anything to happen beyond a casual conversation and perhaps sharing a few drinks.

I knew very well how delicate the situation stood between us after a disastrous breakup years ago, followed by a bittersweet reunion that ended anything but friendly.

No, I wasn't there to beg nor did I want him to take me back. Jiminie had his life and I had mine.

All I wanted was someone to talk to… and he was there for me.

Can you blame me for that?

2. Forever, You Said. [BTS, jikook, vampire au]

All my life I wanted nothing more than to get away and live my life the way I want. So why… does it suddenly not feel enough? Why do I feel like I'm missing something? - Jungkook

3. Lunatic High [BTS, fantasy au]

The sound of his own harsh breathing echoed loudly in his ears, only matched by the sound of his erratic heartbeat as he ran half blindly through the field.

4. Heal My Heart [BTS, jikook; historical au]

"Did you come here to yell at me too?"

Jimin rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop the smile that was already forming on his lips at the sight of the young knight sulking in the corner of the room like a child.

"Of course not. I’m your physician not your squad leader or Seokjin-hyung for that matter." The elder reassured him while placing the bowl of water, rags, ointment and bandages on the nearest table. "So obviously I’m here to treat your wounds… just like I always do." He added in a smaller voice, more to himself than to Jeongguk.

5. A Promised Scenery [BTS, vmin; canon]

It was 4:00 AM, but they hadn't gone inside when they said they would half an hour ago.

Or rather they had meant to.

But the minute that their hands were clasped so tight, like they never wanted to let go, and their eyes met in a whirlwind of emotions, shy smiles and embarrassed laughter. That moment was the first time where the world stopped spinning for them.

6. You're my Tear/You're my Fear [BTS, jikook; songfic]

A broken home.

A sad song.

The curtain rises, but its the same old story from before. Different scenarios, but always the same ending.

7. Yoongi's Confession [BTS, yoonmin; canon]

Our entire relationship, our love, our life can only be compared to a violent car crash on an empty road at night under the pouring rain.

Lots of dark moments, heartaches, blood, sweat and tears.

It’s how it started... and ended.

8. Love Cravings [BTS, vminkook; a/b/o]

Jungkook groaned as his phone rang for the 20th time that night when he had finally gotten into his car.

All he wanted was to get back home, to his warm bed and SLEEP like he deserved. Was that too much to ask?

9. Dirty Habits [BTS, jikook; labeled as “late valentines smut” LOL]

Jungkook stumbled through the front door of his apartment, nearly tripping on the ‘Welcome Home’ mat that never quite made you feel as welcome as it was intended to.

10. So Trust Me [BTS, vminkook]

--Words of love, encouragement, good health, best wishes, and strength continued to flow in waves every minute into his cell phone. Lifting his spirit and filling his heart with joy little by little though not as fast or as overwhelming as it normally should.

It’s been a hard year, not just for him, but for everyone.

Even with all the happiness and beautiful memories being created around him, there was still sadness lingering in his heart. But he wouldn’t let it show, not yet, not here.

11. The Reason [BTS, vminkook]

“Jimin-ssi, keep your defense up!!” Jungkook barked out without breaking his stance as he watched the other male stumble backwards on to the snowy ground with a loud thud.

Taehyung watched from the side, leaning against the wall next to the glass sliding doors to their apartment. Worry etched on to his features behind the large scarf half covering his face to protect him from the cold weather. It’s not the first time he’s come to watch his two lovers spar, but as to why the two insist on doing it at such an early hour in the morning where it’s the coldest its beyond him.

12. Peppermint Kisses [BTS, vminkook]

Something was up in the dorm and Jungkook didn’t like it one bit.

And that something was related to two particular members of Bangtan.

The 95z.

13. UNSTEADY (Prequel to All or Nothing) [BTS, jikook; canon]

I watched him lie through his teeth again today during practice. But it wasn’t just today, there had been many other times where I had watched Jimin do the same; skipping meals, sleepless nights, and when nothing else worked he’d wear himself out with excessive practice hours in the studio by himself.

But I’m not blind, I know it’s on me… yet he still insists on taking the fall by himself for what happened that day.

14. The Sleepover [BTS, vminkook]

Taehyung was the first to stir awake that morning with a long groan. His lashes fluttered weakly against his cheek as he tried to fight off both sleep and nausea from his system.

The hangover making its presence known with a vengeance.

15. All or Nothing [BTS, jikook; canon]

The door to his and Hoseok’s shared room slammed so hard that he could have sworn the thing would come off its hinges any moment.

How dare he?

How fucking dare he?

16. Beautiful Tragedy [BTS, jikook; soulmate au]

When I was four my mother used to tell me stories about Soulmates and how they were always bound to find each other no matter what. Because they were destined to be.

Born and made for each other.

No distance was too far, no language became a barrier, no obstacle too high or low to overcome. No hardship was too much to bare. Because soulmates were two halves of the same soul who's primary purpose was to find their way back to one another and therefore spoke their own language in their hearts.

17. Private Show [BTS, jikook; canon]

“You’re late.” A voice scolded from somewhere in the still dark room.

His hand immediately left the doorknob to reach for the light switch, revealing a figure leaning on the farthest wall, against the mirrors. His pink hair hidden by a cap worn low which also hid his face, a jean jacket over a black buttoned up shirt, dark ripped jeans and boots.

It was Jimin.

18. Sin For You [BTS, vmin; AU]

He was singing our song again at our favorite karaoke bar.

Our secret song… the one nobody knows about. That keeps us connected even at times when we had been involved with someone else.

19. It's all in your mind [BTS, canon with some subtle jikook]

It felt strange to be back home after being away for so long while filming the second season of Bon Voyage, and with a new comeback sometime in September, the schedules were sure to be tight for the rest of the year. So everyone at the dorm tried to make the most of it by getting organized and rest.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I mean... it said favorite opening LINES, in PLURAL.

WHAT HAVE WE LEARNED TODAY, KIDS?

That I need to work on my entries better =_=

Repeated patterns I may have noticed? Hmm... that I usually start the opening scenes with someone walking into a room (usually angry and throwing shit LOL), or describing sounds/smells/feelings.

And that in most cases its JK walking into said rooms and literally walking into some unknown chaos 😌😅 (said chaos being Jimin).

Tag... I don’t know if any of my favorite authors are here on tumblr, much less if I’m following any of them because lately I’ve been checking out authors who announce their work via twitter.

But if any of my moots are authors, go for it.

#tag #tag game #tag meme #bts #bts fics #jikook #vmin #vminkook #AO3 #ao3fic #bts fanfics #bts fanfiction #fanfiction tag

22 notes · View notes

jbbuckybarnes · 4 years

Text

Kinktober - Day 11

11/31 Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Prompt: Restraints Warnings: 18+, dub!con / non!con elements, not proofread, probably anatomical inaccuracies, traumatic situation, dark

Masterlist

You came back to your senses in a bedroom you didn't know. The moment you tried you move you were held back by handcuffs that held you to the bed. You don't remember how you got here, the last thing you remembered was Captain America himself bringing you home after the Avengers stopped a big fight right in front of your favorite café that you were almost injured in.

"Hey!" You yelled and heard steps coming closer. "Oh, you're finally awake again." Mr. Rogers came around the corner. "What the fuck?" You uttered confused. "Don't worry. You're completely safe as long as you do what I say." His eyes shimmered evil. "Let me go!" You protested and squirmed up to get off the cuffs. His strong hands dragged you back down. "You stay there." He growled in anger and you held your breath. That man could break you in half, you might be coming out of this safer by actually listening to him. Fuck. "Bad girls get punished. Do you wanna get punished?" His brow raised up. "What bad thing have I done?" You asked still kinda confused. "You tried to get away." He grumbled as he sat down on the bed, "And now I'll have to punish you." Your eyes got wide as you saw him reach for the underwear you were still wearing. "No, no no no, please don't." You pleaded. "Shhh, gonna take care of you." He cooed and you whimpered in fear. "Please don't." You whispered as you heard your panties rip. "You're gonna cum for me like a good girl, alright?" He murmured, rubbing your legs gently. No answer. He grabbed your face, "Understood?" You nodded with tears of fear in your eyes. "If you work with me I'll go easy on you, alright? I don't want to hurt you, baby girl." He explained. But he was hurting you, mentally. "Yes, Mister Rogers," you whispered. "Good girl." He cooed before you felt fingers inserting themselves into you, making you jolt. They were pumping in and out of you while his thumb started toying with your clit. "Nothing wrong with admitting this feels good, darling. Sometimes sluts just have to be fucked against their will to know their place." He smirked evil and you choked on holding back a moan. "Yeah, your pussy likes that. Bet you won't know what hit you when your tight little hole has my cock in it. Little slut." He growled. "C-C-Captain?" You eyes were watering by now and he looked at you. "Yes, sweetheart?" He switched back to gentle. "I'm not a slut, I'm a virgin." You sniffled. "Then daddy will take care of you, alright? Just need you to relax, baby girl." He cooed and brushed over your hair. "Does that feel good?" He looked at you as he brushed over your g-spot and you nodded heavily. "It's alright. I'm gonna make it feel better soon, princess." Complying seemed to help. "I wanna touch you, Captain." You squirmed under him. You weren't lying. If he'd asked for permission first you would totally be down for this. "You'll just run off, darling. Can't have that." He explained patiently. "If you'd asked me for consent first. I would've said yes, Captain." You pouted. "Can you say yes now?" He cooed down. "I don't know." You didn't. This man was raping you and it was traumatizing, but you always knew you had a thing for being used. "C'mon baby. Will make you cum for the rest of your life, take care of you real good." He cooed again. "But you'd be so controlling." "Wasn't controlling when I got you to come to this compound yesterday." "I can't remember that." His eyes went wide, as if he had just dropped a role he played, "But you...we talked about so many things. Including your little fantasy to lose your virginity a little unconventional." Was he fucking with you? You were so confused. "Are you playing with me right now?" You asked straight forward. He shook his head, "Friday? Analyze the air and explosions from the attack yesterday." You had come home with him willingly, seems legit. You'd talked to him about your sexuality, could be. You'd talked to him about...doing this? You must've been really fucking knocked out mentally and he good at flirting. "There was a chemical keeping things from being saved into the longterm memory. I will immediately test the others for their memory of yesterday, Captain Rogers." A computer voice answered. "I'm so sorry." He looked down at you. You eyed him, topless, fingers still buried inside of you, puppy face. "What did I tell you?" You whispered. "You told me about your past, about feeling alone, how you were having some weird kinks...I kinda shared mine too. Does that mean I have to relive the awkwardness of telling you about-" He started thinking out loud. You both looked at each other and the room, then into each others' eyes. "Well, it isn't really rape when I told you to do it...and you can prove it." You mumbled. "Fri?" He mumbled. **"I don't know why, but I just want to be used, you know? Like with consent beforehand, but not in the moment. It's a weird thing to want, I know." Silence. "I'd do it." "I'd let you."** You looked at each other again, now this went from traumatizing to straight up dumb. Too many bad coincidences. "Uncuff me, Cap." You grinned and felt him exhale. His hand retreated from you and was licked clean before he got the cuffs off in one go. "Not gonna lie. It threw me off hardcore when you went from aggressive to soft so quick. I just knew you either lost your senses or I lost mine." You chuckled and he gave you an apologizing smile. "Is it bad to admit that this shit made me wet?" You frowned. This would be so wrong to say without this resolution. "Kinda." He shrugged. You curiously touched his chest above you and poked at it with your finger. So much pure muscle. You licked your lips subconsciously. "Like what you see, darling?" He grinned down at you. "You know what? Maybe I like a mix between soft and harsh better." You looked up and got a nod back. "What do you want me to do with you, baby?" He murmured closer to your face. "I mean, ideally giving me an orgasm would be nice." You said super dry and heard a chuckle. He kissed your neck, collarbone, ribs, belly, then your inner thighs. "I like that." You whispered with your eyes closing. "Tell me when to stop." He murmured before grabbing one of your hands and pushing his tongue through your folds. "Holy shit." You mumbled, squirming but being held in place. His fingers entered you again, softly pushing and pulling, "Fuck, Steve." His name just slipped out, but he seemed to like it out of your mouth, judging by how he started licking your clit. "Oh fuck, that feels so much better than I imagined." You mewled in his grasp. He squeezed your hand gently and sucked on your clit, making your back shoot up. Your free hand landed in his hair. "Don't stop, Captain." You moaned out and he made himself at home between your legs. Stroking over your clit and your g-spot in intervalls that got every possible sound out of you. His thumb stroked over your hand when he felt you get close. You always wanted to know how much he could feel a pulse or even hear a heartbeat. You had probably asked him yesterday but you would have to ask him again. "Please, Steve, please." You begged panting before he sucked on your clit hard enough to make you see stars for a few seconds. You got down from your high as he kissed his way back up on you. A smile was interchanged softly before you eyed his body again. His boner very apparent in his briefs. You were trying not to faint at the thought of losing your virginity to the supersoldier length hidden behind that piece of clothing. "Steve?" He looked at you attentively, "Fuck me." He fumbled to get his underwear off and you were desperately trying to hold back the moan building up while you looked at his giant cock. "Need you to relax, darling." He cooed as he grabbed your legs and positioned them ideally. "Tell me when to stop." You nodded before breathing out and closing your eyes. "Good girl." He murmured before you felt him starting to push into you. He was so slow and gentle, the complete opposite to what you had experienced earlier. "God, you feel amazing, baby. You're doing great." He told you a little strangled. You felt a little pinch and burn for a second, comparable to how the stretching of your hole for his big dick felt. "That's my girl." He cooed as you moaned under him. "Am I yours now?" You joked around and his eyes went dark. "Mine." He growled and captured your mouth with his before pushing into you a little harder. He didn't even fit into you all the way, you felt him hit the natural barrier inside of you. "Look, baby girl," he cooed and made you look at your stomach as he thrusted into you. An outline of him was visible inside of you. "Is it a size kink that you didn't want to feel awkward about?" You grinned and he smirked before getting faster, making your head fall back. He turned the two of you around, placing your hands on his chest, gently pushing you up by your throat. "Work it, baby. Gotta put in some work." He smirked and you moved up and down on his monster cock. "So good." You whined and went faster. "C'mon, princess. Cum on it." He groaned and felt you starting to squeeze around him harder. His free hand went to your clit, making you squeal. "Hmm, sweating all pretty for me." He grumbled content, "Gonna get that every day from now own." You moaned in unison before he grabbed your hips and slammed you down on him one, two, three times before having you squeeze around his girth with a scream. You felt his cum coating your walls, as you tried to get your breathing back. "I don't know if I can handle that every day. Not gonna lie." You panted and had him chuckle. "I'll go easy on you." He grinned and picked you off of him.

73 notes · View notes

algernoninwonderland · 3 years

Text

“Porter sur toi un nouveau regard”: basic outlines and preparatory notes

What better way to celebrate a fic being completed than me releasing some of the basic notes I took while planning it? Here they are, with a few additions.

It all started as a prompt I got on Discord, the very simple “love at first sight” and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it at first, but the idea of sight stuck with me. Are your first impressions the right ones? Can you learn to see someone a certain way or another? It’s ultimately a story about learning to see other people and yourself, isn’t it?

Which meant I had to take a certain point of view, because an omniscient floating eye is emotionally detached. Character POV may have a limited scope, but that may help empathise with them. This is a story about Kagami, so it was only fair for Kagami to be the centre of it.

Chapter 1:

“How does Kagami truly feel about Marinette before Ikari Gozen”?

While Marinette sees the two of them as rivals, that rivalry is one-sided, and Kagami wouldn’t take that girl seriously. She’s simply annoying.

Kagami is a lonely character, who genuinely wants to make friends, still, and she’s anything but cool or smooth. She doesn’t know the other characters the way the audience does, at all.

Tomoe Tsurugi sucks.

Switching from “Dupain-Cheng” to “Marinette Dupain-Cheng” to “Marinette” would be a nice way to keep the reader hooked. Lots of tiny details that’ll come back later on!

Comphet.

Lots of comphet already. What you “should” like, a calculated, conscious choice.

A few jabs at the show because why not.

Chapter 2:

Filling gaps in characterisation and timeline to make sure that everything hurts later on! Including pre-Adrigami. People thought the paperwork between Tomoe and Gabriel was a marriage contract, not quite, but an arranged relationship? Definitely from Tomoe’s side.

Are Kagami and Marinette already going on dates when they visit the city together all on their own? Isn’t that the true sapphic experience.

Also, the promise of them going to the terrace rooftop on sunny days! It’ll come back later on.

The Bike Motive. Marinette driving her forward.

“Your hair is beautiful” but make it much gayer.

I hate the André scene in the finale, it sucks and it’s awful for everyone. It should be awful for both Marinette and Kagami. Comphet. So much comphet.

Kagami’s impression of brokenness is something we’ll come back to over and over again.

Adrien doesn’t notice because he’s Adrien. The kiss. Nothing.

“K-Kagami!” End with a cliffhanger for more suffering.

As a side note, I made myself cry writing this chapter.

Chapter 3:

Everything hurts. Everything. Hurts.

Identity reveals don’t solve anything, they still fail, and Marinette still isn’t willing to show herself to Kagami, still hiding behind a facade.

Just because Marinette understands things a little better doesn’t mean it hurts any less

They are both lying to each other and themselves and they don’t even realise it.

“Fixing the brokenness” through comphet.

Nothing is solved at all.

Falling asleep on a chaise longue plus blanket

Chapter 4:

Life as a socialite in Paris, concerts and restaurants, wearing clothes she hasn’t chosen

The Adrien routine, pulling chairs and flowers

It’s all miserable still, lots of “shoulds”

Fencing competition, fencing competition ahead. Tomoe is a terrible parent and a terrible coach.

Text conversations with Marinette, overdoes joy with emojis

The Bike Motive Returns, with more feelings, Marinette’s almost desperate gestures

(Kagami as the only person she can fully confide in, but still won’t)

An early birthday present… But Kagami is born in November, Marinette is a mess and so is her room.

Hug and first hint of reciprocated Marigami? Just the happiness of having someone like Kagami who admires her work as Marinette.

Falling asleep on a chaise longue plus blanket, part deux.

KAGAMI IN A SUIT!!!

Kisses on the cheek are really common in France, not Japan. A heavy kiss.

Dress or suit?

Marinette is a mess, texts at night. Difference between Adrien and Marinette’s texts, Adrien’s more self-centred.

No sense of space in Tokyo, jet lag and closed house. Closed spaces.

Chapter 5:

I’m going to write a full chapter about sabre fencing and people will love it

Lots of sneaky (or not so sneaky) GL and Yuri manga/anime references. Make Juri Arisugawa part of the Jury.

All the locations are real

Marinette overdoes it again, Kagami can’t tell.

Kagami’s technique dissecting her opponents. She is a champion already.

Teach the readers about fencing whilst describing it. Have opponents be challenging in specific, understandable ways.

She chooses the suit. What even is subtlety.

As a side note: it was a really fun one to write.

Chapter 6:

Marinette internship phone call, Nathalie’s plan. No way Gabriel would accept to work with a kid. Flirting, Kagami as a muse?

The Foucault chapter. Everything is a prison. Restaurant, vertical stripes on wall as prison bars, the relationship, the self-locking car. This is no Utena car.

Everything is wrong, including the food

Adrigami friendship, much better than Adrigami romance. Rose/Chair. She doesn’t hate him at all, she just doesn’t love him… It wouldn’t work, she’s gay and he’s a liar.

Self-imposed gestures of affection.

Do not describe the kisses, they’re just a thing she has to do

Marinette is a mess, Ladybug is a mess, hell imagery, falling down a hole, almost dying. We are in the car with Kagami and we want to do something, anything, and we can’t.

Chapter 7:

The first step to things being alright again is to admit that they aren’t alright now

Nighttime conversation, Kagami letting Ladybug in

Marinette finally showing herself bare to Kagami but still tries not to until the dam breaks. Being a hero is miserable. Being the Guardian when you are a child with no guidance or support is miserable. Kagami as the only person she can trust.

Botched Lukanette date?

“I’m just so tired.”

“You are not a failure, you are so courageous, a genius fashion designer and my best friend”

(Additional note: I cried writing that passage)

Sharing the burden: help in more than just words.

“I hate that you have to see me like that.”

But showing your vulnerability and still being accepted as true love

Kagami truly sees Marinette now.

“Tutorship” and Tomoe being awful but excuse works. Help is material, homework, tidying up the room together.

“Stop feeling guilty about letting other people help you.”

Flirting hidden behind jokes, Kagami lying to herself. Way to ruin the mood.

Marigami baking.

Harlem 88, postal workers, acab

Watching television on the same couch, or rather watching Marinette watch television.

Umbrella scene with polka dots.

Kagami fully aware of her feeling and afraid of them, afraid that Marinette might feel the same

Chapter 8:

more fencing, Kagami absolutely rules

Worrying about Marinette alone with Gabriel, rightfully so, but can’t say that out loud

Stereotypical outdated Japanese-ness, Kagami can’t conform, doesn’t know how to put on her houmongi on her own. Tomoe and paradoxes, her daughter is both weak and “too muscular” at the same time.

The Palais Royal. The Buren columns are very climbable.

Gabriel, “quite miraculous”. Testing the waters, Kagami doesn’t notice.

Jealousy when Adrien speaks of Marinette?

Ratatouille reference! Tatou.

Tomoe playing the role of the exotic Japanese to be accepted.

Drunk parents, drunk on power and self-satisfaction.

Adrien’s kiss, forced to return it.

Fear that Adrien might become Marinette’s muse

The bike motive once more

Barkk’s power is tracking magical signatures, each is different from the other

Marinette taking control over her own life, making plans to stop Hawk Moth instead of passively waiting for each attack,

“She was never broken. She is in love with another girl.”

Marinette is in love with her too, but is ready to wait.

Chapter 9:

Adrien IS Chat Noir, up to the entitlement and his way of being physically affectionate. Stay true to canon and canon implications.

Adrigami/DJWifi double date, Alya means well but doesn’t know everything

Wordbuilding: of course the Ladyblog isn’t the only website ever, bad rival, Daily Bugle pun.

Not hating someone doesn’t mean you should be with them.

Hints of Adrigami friendship again, relief at avoiding romance.

Food at Kagami’s, cooker, formally perfect but not personal

Marinette and Barkk, closer to their goal

The Turtle Pearl bracelet: a shield, a great way to show feeling of danger, symbol of love

Kagami is the one to kiss Marinette on the cheek this time

Chapter 10:

Tomoe is a bad instructor episode 100

In which Adrien proves himself to truly be also Chat Noir, i.e. unable to understand personal barriers and entitlement. Still Kagami’s POV. He doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong, insistence≠playfulness. certainly won’t apologise

The bike motive again. Scenic road and conversation

Going to Orsay, definitely a date!

Chat Noir was moody during akuma crisis because of course he was.

Chapter 11:

Adrigami “break”, Adrien sucks at admitting that he’s anything but perfect and being confronted with that.

Kagami bluntness.

Adrigami isn’t about Adrigami, it’s about the Tsurugi family’s status and Tomoe terrified of consequences. Attacking the room instead of Kagami herself.

The Turtle Pearl glows when wearer feels endangered or imminent danger

The museum pictures, the two of them together

Aquarium date?

“Voice of reason” isn’t the voice of reason at all.

Barkk is in the bag, smells everything

Chapter 12:

Kagami as Tomoe’s messenger

Agreste mansion as a mausoleum, setting up the geography, security cameras, cold. Painting of Émilie, goal is near

Nathalie being extremely good at pretending she didn’t just knock that kid unconscious months ago, she’s awful and it’s great.

Marinette internship, Gabriel wears a bowtie… Resembles a butterfly.

Barkk in the bag, smells everything.

Stressful phone call, feels feverish, it’s him and that’s undeniable.

Marinette the detective.

“Thanks for being there for me”

“Thank you for trusting me so much”

Having dinner with Hawk Moth, it’s awful and stressful

No more chair/rose

Adrien is miserable but not aggressive. Building up to final fight

Chapter 13:

Meet the Dupain-Chengs, short, awkward, sweet moment

Marinette’s room, perfectly clean

From creepy stalker to detective, without downplaying the former or overplaying the latter

The two are complementary, very concrete things,

The plan: catch Hawk Moth red-handed, take it outside and expose him to the world

How the Kwami Pearls work: just like the Miraculouses themselves, feeding off the host, only more brutal. Marinette trying to reassure Kagami

Re-explain Turtle Pearl and other powers, illusion, thunder, time-rewind and portal

Gabriel owns original Degas painting since they are both assholes

Adrien/Chat still not great at all

Ice-cream but no biphobia/lesbophobia this time, just a regular shop suggested by Juleka.

The Pont des Arts, no more locks, just like in real life.

The confession, the kiss: consent and everything is right, but also desperate. Marinette really wants to do it well.

Longg is back, also, hype

Side note: I cried writing this one.

Chapters 14-15

Ryuko infiltrating the mansion, all in the details

I hate that Hawk Moth’s lair is an actual real physical space in the show, but if this needs to be material, then so be it. He was allowed to turn his house into that because he got help from the Mayor/Audrey.

Chat Noir can’t fight, near breakdown.

Nathalie knew. Remake of first fight, only Ryuko has clear upper hand.

Having missiles in your house isn’t a good idea.

The Turtle Pearl serves its purpose at last,

Gabriel mostly defeats himself on his own, hubris, the whole extent of his power dynamic with Nathalie

Going back to the Champ de Mars,

Teamwork, taking the butterfly down. Chat Noir rejects his father entirely, cataclysm-ed akuma.

The mansion again, entirely destroyed, paintings of Émilie burning. Spell book and tablet recovered.

Chapter 16:

Taking the big bad down is useless if you don’t take down the power structures that allowed him to strive in the first place. Killing Voldemort only solves that much.

Discovering it all on a phone screen, shut-in

ACAB no matter your gender

They are just following orders and happy to do so, and Gabriel still has some power over them

Tomoe plays by the rules, even though these rules are awful

Kagami’s anger

Chapter 17:

Aquarium date, aquarium date! Fish facts

Kagami’s anger still, doesn’t die out, render it through environment and senses

Water as a healing motive, fish facts

Hot outside - cold inside, ice-cream

Kagami nearly blows out because of kids after being slightly soothed

The power of love is strong but it can’t solve everything.

Additional note: someone in the comments asked me if Kagami had ASD, and the answer is, I don’t know, you tell me! If you think she is on the spectrum, then she is!

Addressing Kagami being closeted, because there’s simply no other way. This isn’t good. Having to live hidden out of fear isn’t good..

The bike motive, + ice cream

Kagami uses the word “lesbian” for the first time to describe her own experience.

Chapter 18:

Tomoe has feelings and these feelings suck. Under the guise of rules, abuse.

Kagami fighting back.

Power is material, through connections and money, nothing that can’t be bought

Kagami’s first demonstration, don’t make it too violent but still ACAB

Nino and Alya as reporters, Julerose and Luka seasoned protestors

The Palais de Justice’s gilded gates are closed vs the crowd

Marinette using her powers for something other than Hawk Moth, strong stance but also still a 15 yo kid’s understanding of the situation

Chapters 19-20:

No tanabata because Tomoe is terrible

The rooftop terrace at last, more Marigami wholesomeness

Dupain-Cheng house vs Tsurugi house, the furniture and dishes, the meal, more Tom and Sabine

Marinette has been cut from her Chinese heritage, exploring that (callback to Mandarin app, chapter 1) and bitterness of it

Adrien moving on in England, still Plagg with him, he’ll become a rich prep boy

Marinette as a Guardians, her own spell book

Duusuu is devouring Émilie’s soul and neither Marinette nor Kagami knows

Françoise Dupont at night, fencing classes, Marinette moves like Ladybug

The future: it is bright but bittersweet, let’s talk about it together

And there was only one bed

Oh, to cuddle with your girlfriend in her bed for the first time

Watching the sun rise together, calm breakfast

Side note: I also cried writing this one.

Chapter 21, epilogue

A new beginning

Kagami turning her back on her mother almost entirely

The bike motive, but Kagami no longer needs Marinette to show her the way now

New school, familiar faces but not only

An ordinary bracelet for Marinette, but proof of love despite everything

End on their hands.

#miraculous #ml #marigami #kagaminette #ao3fic #mine

24 notes · View notes

emersonmanandnature · 3 years

Text

May 25, 2021

The Illusion Of Religion

I question the sanctity of our lives, an illusion of religion given the facts of the horror of death at the hands of viscous oligarchs, dictators, military, the US corporations, the wealthy and the people they put into office to placate the citizens of this world they govern for profit for they are the true rulers of our lives, they own us and this little speck of dust called earth in a vast universe of deadly sins.

The bibles brutal suffering of god’s children under the rule of wealth and power has always been without change even when a prophet was born to teach his followers the revelation of hope, of freedom from the clutch of evil or was it a prophet? or a Roman leader conquering regimes after regimes and not wanting a revolt of his worker ants promised them a wonderful life after their misery ripened on this planet.

His voice powerful and believable in order to placate the people making them less angry and hostile toward the powers that own them, that murdered and destroyed civilizations for their addiction of more and more power over all cultures. That sounds a lot like the united states of crime!

If the word of god is our truth then why revise his words of perfection. Why change parts of the bible to exploit the feeling of the masses to wait for death before one can see, feel god’s presence in a paradise built just for us.

Are we not retreating, pulling back in fear, allowing some mysterious past to control our future without our consent of purpose?

What a facade of truth, if you look behind the mysterious words of a supposed god in an ancient book we will find the illusion of our future lives built around a fantasy of manipulating us with passionate lies.

If man is to wait until death then what is the purpose of creation. Isn’t creation god’s gift to human beings.To live a life free of fear and wars.

Oh that is right god booted adam and eve out of paradise because eve ate a simple fruit. And that justified our god to get angry and demand their expulsion from his loving constricted paradise of do’s and don’ts.

It sounds like god had a tantrum just like the wealthy have their tantrums when a bill is passed for the people and not a bill bribed to give money to them the elites of corruption.

It sounds like a mean landlord demanding his monthly rent for his unemployed inhabitants.

The bible a historic voice of the people’s despair looking for something, someone, anyone to end their misery and lift their spirits up to a glorious feeling of everlasting love for all his creations.

Why the bait and switch move in eden with the apple. Is god really a trickster, a powerful being that loves to see people suffer by breaking his inconsistent rules.

Our god created an infinite universe to show off his power but he forgot a simple rule, he himself demanded of his flock of sinners here on this speck of dust to believe in an invisible character from a book of past encounters with tyranny and murder, and he our god promised to guide the faithful to worship a godly character like himself, a character built around everlasting peace and he would name his creation jesus and all that followed his son would rise up from death as he did, a little scary but necessary, and enter a heaven not present on this earth for this earth is owned by wealth of the few but a place in a far away galaxy where all praise the father, son and holy ghost.

This mother earth is the playground of wealth destroying the world and the inhabitants.

The bible did nothing to change the power structure of our corrupt society of the rich war lords of greed. It allowed the powerful to ignore christ and any other prophets through their brutal addiction to power over their slaves which have remained the same all the way up to this present moment.

The selfish rich rule over all mankind and anything on this earth is theirs to do what they will, to pollute, to destroy mother nature and the people must pay the horrific price of the destruction of a paradise that evolved not by a god but by the forces of nature.

It feels like human evolution was a desire for power over others and to survive one must suffer from the egotistical fraud of crooks until death do you part.

If god is seen as all powerful, but so far invisible, why then wouldn’t the people see themselves as a reflection of that power and become the sanctified heroes to be worshiped as god’s themselves.

Eliminating the middle man and taking over this world for their own personal playground.

You can’t expect human beings to fully understand the reasoning of a powerful god that created them and then abandoned them to suffer in slavery, poverty, wars, hunger and destruction of their planet for profit only to be told that they would have to wait for the grim reaper to come and take their life so they can rise up to the heavens and be present to worship god, christ and the holy ghost all over again. Say what!

The bible reveals the meaning of life and the responsibility of human beings to their creator.

And the words of the bible speak of hell and damnation as a teaching tool to strike fear in the people to obey the forces of evil alive and well on this planet of riches not for the working man and woman but the elites of corruption.

But quotes of love were mostly directed upward to our savior and his ghostly apparition from a book that never took shape over this world because of the differences in cultures around the planet.

Their god is not our god and because of that it was and is necessary for us to convert their unique individuality to our way of life and if that doesn’t work we will do god’s will and slaughter them.

What is the meaning of life? Do each of us have our own unique interpretation of what life means to us and not the herd instincts of mind and body control that is now the state of mankind through centuries of the wealthy demanding they worship them as there godly power and you must do all they command for they are the power, the glory, the masterminds of deception and misrepresentation of the prophets words?

Each person has their own point of view that pieces together the void of a complex web of double talk, manipulations, deadly wars, false witness, the corruption of religion as a cash machine, our internal beliefs, no matter what they are in this corrupt reality of gluttony, money is worth more than human lives, but when we find our inner power that gives us strength to walk through the valley of death knowing we will survive then we have a chance to turn this hypocrisy of religion to work for the people not against their independence.

Your imposing external beliefs are ego driven, to be seen is more important than being present in life, to create a personality is more important than to lend a helping hand whenever possible to other human beings.

As we project outward in this complex reality shifting under us at all times, we lose sight of our true savior, our inner self will, for we need to take responsibility for our actions not as christian soldiers but as human beings empathetic to others of all races! Life is not a rigid belief but an opening of oneself to the beauty that surrounds us.

We must not become self driven with blinders on doing all that can be done to make us a powerful force without morals or ethics.

We must see ourselves openly, knowing we are only human and we will do our best to give back to others with a helping hand.

Why do we continue living a lie, deceiving ourselves that paradise in the sky is heaven and not mother earth, a spinning planet in a vast universe and see it as our only home, our only paradise?

Why do we accept the criminal wealth as our earthly leaders when they are if the bible is true hell bound!

Technology has no independent guidance. It is conditioned like we are to act when demanded.

Technology has no depth of feelings and communicates only what you want to hear.

Technology in the long run separates us from each other by distracting us from living a life of sincere truth and not the lies of corporations making contact with us through a device that feeds all our personal information to clients that spend millions of their greedy money to entice you buy products you don’t need.

We are no longer personal with each other, we put a barrier between us and began to enjoy our instant gratification without effort of individuality but a cliche speaking words that are not ours.

We are absorbed by technology making it a front for ego’s demanding, selfish necessity, of being seen, heard and liked.

Can you hear the marching troops moving from house to house for their tech spies are able to listen in to private conversations and they heard a plot to enjoy life through caring actions but that goes against all corporate control, for if you love others how are they to take advantage of your selfishness through their propaganda machine of hate and the goodness of greed. These sneaky manipulators want to feed you their propaganda of fear through their websites that isolate you from others you once cared about.

Our cool facade of intelligence and style is an abomination for we have always been from the very beginning of our existence creatures that hunt and kill for food and domination over another tribes, it is in our instinct as animals to destroy anything that tries to liberate anyone from the earthly desires of material destruction.

In order to feel the power importance we all need a band of like minded people that hate others as we do.

We act in violence as an instinctive necessity for we have no depth of empathy for anyone or anything different from our herd.

Wealth takes what someone else made and makes it their own.

#wealth #technolgy #morals #criminal wealth #retreating #violence an instinctive necessity #cjcorwinoriginal

2 notes · View notes

cicada-bones · 3 years

Text

The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 19: The Ring

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Aelin was quiet through the long walk up the side of the mountain, not speaking a word of complaint as they climbed higher and higher, the trees fading into mounds of lichen-covered rock, which soon were covered by snow and ice as they approached the crest of the snow-capped peak of Bald Mountain.

But before they’d have to start clambering through snow drifts, Rowan turned, delving southwest, where the gaping maw of a massive cave lay hidden.

“What in every burning ring of hell are we doing here?” Aelin asked as the cave came into view. Her tone was derisive, but the effect of her scorn was somewhat lost in the sound of her out-of-breath panting.

Rowan ignored the question, instead striding through the entrance of the cave and saying, “Hurry up.” The hike had taken them longer than he had thought it would, and he was starting to get just a little bit worried.

Rowan had to hold in a grimace as he strode through the darkness. The cavern smelled horrible, of mold and rust and rotting things. But he kept his path straight, heading towards the lake he knew waited for them, his icy power keeping its surface frozen solid.

Though his steps were quiet, the ground was rocky, littered with small stones worn smooth by water, and the sound of his feet on the loose rock echoed unnervingly. Especially since the stones weren’t the only obstacles that lay before them. The cave was also strewn with rusted weapons, armor, and clothes. Relics left by Fae long since dead.

Fae such as Brannon of the Wildfire, and Athril the Healer.

It was Emrys’ stories that had reminded him, that had shown him the answer. Rowan didn’t know when he had first heard the tale of Maeve and her love, the story of her great tragedy. But he did remember the day he learned the lie at its heart.

The tale told throughout the land was that Athril, beloved of the dark queen, had died in obscurity, in some long-forgotten conflict. But that was untrue. Maeve had killed Athril. Killed him for spite or hate or some hidden strategy, Rowan did not know. But she had killed him, forcing Brannon to flee these lands with his sword, Goldryn, and Athril’s family ring. But he did not cross the ocean with them.

Brannon escaped Doranelle, traversed the mountain paths and even passed through Mistward itself. But when he arrived at the fortress, he came empty-handed, the only explanation being that he’d abandoned the sword and ring somewhere between Doranelle and Mistward.

Maeve had no idea where Brannon had left them, though she had searched high and low. Searched through the long years, until decades became centuries. But Rowan knew. Or at least, he thought he did.

Goldryn and the ring lay among the weapons beneath Bald Mountain, where Athril had once carved out the eye of a great water-demon. It was a story no one else knew, a story his mother had once told him. The story of Athril and Brannon and the lake-monster.

Maeve didn’t like tales of Brannon, kept them from being told within her borders. So Rowan’s mother had whispered it in secret, beneath the bedcovers and behind closed doors. It had been one of his favorites.

Rowan had always liked tales of Brannon, of his fire and his fierce heart. Just as he had always loved Mala, Rowan had wanted to grow up to be exactly like the ferocious Fae warrior. But Maeve hated Brannon, had raised up a city of water and stone as protection against him. Protection against Brannon’s wrath from murdering his beloved friend.

It had taken Emrys’ reminder to connect the dots, to realize that the only plausible resting place for Goldryn and the ring was this cave. The cave where the lake-monster had once dwelt, slain long ago by Brannon and Athril.

Rowan walked briskly through the darkness, Aelin staggering after him. Soon, his eyes adjusted and a figure came into view across the frozen expanse of the ancient lake. A figure he had left chained there barely an hour before.

“Tell me I’m hallucinating.” Aelin’s tone was hard, unyielding.

Sitting on a blanket in the center of the lake, the chains around his wrists anchored under the ice, was Luca.

Aelin’s motivation, and her distraction.

Luca’s chains clanked as he raised a hand in greeting. “I thought you’d never show. I’m freezing,” he called, and tucked his hands back under his arms.

“What is this place?” Aelin asked.

“Go get him,” Rowan answered.

“Are you out of your mind?”

He only smiled. Rowan could feel the heat of Aelin’s fury from nearly five feet away. She stepped toward the ice, but he blocked her path before she could get any farther. “In your other form.”

“He doesn’t know what I am,” she murmured, still looking out towards the boy. A small curl of fear and shame wafted from her.

After all these weeks, she still feared her other form. Had learned to hate it. What had happened to her in Adarlan?

“You’ve been living in a fortress of demi-Fae, you know. He won’t care.”

Aelin clenched her jaw and turned to face Rowan, anger once again overpowering all other emotion in her scent. “How dare you drag him into this?”

“You dragged him in yourself when you insulted him – and Emrys. The least you can do is retrieve him.” A convenient excuse.

While Rowan had hauled Luca up the mountain, the boy had explained what’d happened in the kitchens that morning. The princess had been primed to snap, but still, Rowan couldn’t help wondering what an Eyllwe knife meant to her, why it had broken her from her slim mask of control and caused her to explode on the three demi-Fae males. It didn’t matter though; Rowan would’ve used Luca for this regardless. Making things up to the boy was just another motivating force he could try to pull in his favor.

Before the princess could retort, Luca interrupted. “I hope you brought snacks! I’m starving. Hurry up, Elentiya. Rowan said you had to do this as part of your training, and …” the prattle continued but Rowan shut it out, focusing his gaze on Aelin.

She was hesitating. Finding a way to justify, to avoid having to confront her identity. Not only as an Heir, but also as Fae. Still, she clung to the guise of pure humanity.

“What is the gods-damned point of this? Just punishment for acting like an ass?”

Rowan almost flinched. If anyone deserved punishment, it was he. “You can control your power in human form – keep it dormant. But the moment you switch, the moment you get agitated or angry or afraid, the moment you remember how much your power scares you, your magic rises up to protect you. It doesn’t understand that you are the source of those feelings, not some external threat. When there is an outside threat, when you forget to fear your power long enough, you have control. Or some control.” He pointed at Luca. “So free him.”

As he spoke, the anger leeched out of her scent, replaced by a fear so strong, so deep-seated and visceral, Rowan was surprised her knees weren’t shaking.

“What happens to Luca if I fail?”

“He’ll be very cold and very wet. And possibly die.” Rowan smiled at her. Making her think that he would actually let the boy come to harm. He might let them fall in, but he would never let the boy drown. Emrys and Malakai would kill him.

“Were the chains really necessary? He’ll go right to the bottom.” Her voice was faint. Aelin turned to look out over the icy expanse, her eyes surveying Luca and his chains. Then, she held out her hand expectantly, silently asking for the key.

Rowan shook his head, there was no key. She would have to melt the chains, or break through the ice. “Control is your key. And focus. Cross the lake, then figure out how to free him without drowning the both of you.”

Aelin nearly snarled, baring her teeth. “Don’t give me a lesson like you’re some mystical-nonsense master! This is the stupidest thing I have ever had to – ”

“Hurry,” Rowan interrupted with a wolfish grin, sending out a tendril of his power to weaken the ice ever so slightly. It groaned loudly, and Aelin flinched, her eyes widening.

“You are a bastard.” She stared him down, as if resolving to make his life a living hell. Rowan’s grim smile didn’t shift one inch. If this worked, he would take whatever she threw at him.

Then Aelin transformed, the change quicker and more in control with each time she shifted. She blinked through the discomfort, then scowled at Rowan, saying, “It gives me comfort to know that people like you have a special place in hell waiting for them.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know.”

Aelin just turned, giving him a particularly vulgar gesture as she took her first cautious step onto the ice.

Though Rowan was confident she wasn’t going to fall through, he strengthened the ice beneath her feet, creating an ironclad path between her and Luca. But before turning to begin his search for the ring and sword, Rowan hesitated, watching as she placed foot after tentative foot on the thin layer of his magic.

The Heir of Fire walked above the frozen lake, striding over the clear ice in an image straight from a fireside tale. An ember dancing atop the still water, a lick of flame burning in the deep dark.

As she drew farther and farther away from the shore, her terror swelled, and her power grew right alongside it. Until the layer of ice began to shudder and groan under the pressure from her magic.

And Rowan let it, let the ice crack and spiderweb beneath her feet. Allowing it to complain just enough for her to be forced to reign in her own power. For her to have to find the control to prevent an icy plunge.

“Stop it,” she hissed at Rowan.

Aelin took another tentative step, and the ice cracked again. Rowan could feel the ice melting, could feel her blistering heat like a bonfire in the middle of the lake, beginning to carve its way through the thin barrier between her body and the icy water below.

“Elentiya?” Luca asked, worry coating his voice. Despite his original intentions, Rowan began strengthening the ice, the tension forcing him to wield his magic. But then Aelin began to breathe, slow and deep and even.

Her hands clenched, her muscles tensing, and Rowan could feel the heat slowly fading. Just enough to allow the ice beneath her feet to re-freeze, leaving it white and cloudy. But panic still clouded her scent with its copper tang, and her magic still writhed in a great cloud around her.

Aelin slid one foot forwards, slowly, hesitantly. A soft humming sound emanated from her closed lips, a lovely, lilting tune. At first it seemed to calm her, but then her advance slowed until it stopped completely. And she stood, staring at the ice as if it were her worst enemy, as if it was everything she feared in this world.

“Elentiya?” Luca’s voice was even more anxious.

Aelin’s magic flickered in response, expanding once again until a violent crack splintered through the air, echoing off the walls of the cave.

Worry curled in Rowan’s gut, but his voice was steady as he said, “You are in control now.” He took a step closer to her, once again strengthening the path between her and Luca. “You are its master.”

Aelin took another step, and the ice cracked again. “You are the keeper of your own fate,” Rowan said, his voice soft.

Even if he didn’t understand why she feared herself so, why she hated her magic when couldn’t even imagine not loving his, Rowan knew what it was to not be in control. He understood how it felt to be helpless before the plots and desires of others. To have forces out of your control shape your life regardless of want or will.

Aelin hummed some more, and the flame receded. Rowan could feel the heat dissipate from the surface of the ice, could feel her magic spooling back into her form until its pressure had almost completely withdrawn.

Aelin’s advance quickened, becoming steady and confident. Rowan barely held in a triumphant smile.

He turned away from the princess, who he was now sure would make it across the frozen lake without incident, and strode along the shore, his eyes flicking over the stony expanse, searching intently.

It had to be here, it just had to be…

Rowan carefully catalogued each of the blades resting on the beach, and then dismissed them. None were of fine enough make to be the sword he sought. He looked out over the clear water, where he could see the metallic glints that indicated that many more blades lay at the bottom of the lake. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Rowan could hear the princess and the boy talking quietly from the center of the lake, along with the clatter of chains as Luca shifted on the ice. Rowan thought he could feel Aelin’s anger from all the way on the other side of the cave.

Rowan turned back to the shore, glancing over the weapons he had already dismissed, and then looked up to examine the cave wall. And there it was, a small crevice concealing the object of his search – a sword with a golden hilt and a ruby the size of a chicken’s egg on the pommel, with a plain gold ring hidden just beneath the scabbard.

The objects that were Aelin’s only chance of walking out of Doranelle free and unharmed.

Rowan reached into the crevice and removed the ancient blade, almost marveling at the power he could feel curling from it, a golden mist of ageless force.

But before he could properly examine the exquisite sword, Rowan felt Aelin begin to reach for her magic once more, pulling out a small, burning thread. He turned back to face the frozen lake just as the ice splintered around them, and Luca yelped in surprise.

“Control,” Rowan barked at Aelin, while reaching within, readying his own power to rescue the pair of them from the icy water if necessary. But Aelin remained in control, and a small hole melted where her palm had been.

She took several long breaths, and then rallied once more, drawing out a tiny thread of power and using it to burrow into the ice. There was a clank of metal, a hiss of steam, and then –

“Oh, thank the gods,” Luca moaned, and hauled the length of chain out of the hole, while Aelin closed her eyes and pulled her magic back into her body, slowly wrapping it around the invisible spool deep in her chest until the world was cold and empty once more.

“Please tell me you brought food,” Luca whined.

“Is that why you came? Rowan promised you snacks?” Aelin’s voice was bitter, but her ire wasn’t directed at the boy. Rowan wondered if they would even make it to the trees before Aelin started yelling at him for this one. But it had been worth it, so worth it – on both counts.

“I’m a growing boy.” Luca grumbled, then winced as he glanced at Rowan. “And you don’t say no to him.”

Rowan almost winced himself. Now he definitely could feel Aelin’s fury pressing in on him, burning cinders and grinding pepper. It choked in his throat.

But then, before he could so much as flinch, Aelin’s scent shifted. Copper and ash coated his throat as Aelin’s fear exploded from her in a great torrent, and Rowan froze on the shore, a hundred yards away and completely unable to help as a bright red eye peeked through the hole Aelin had made in the ice, violence and death and hate leeching from it like poisoned wine.

Aelin cursed violently, her hand pressing against Luca’s small form. “Get off the ice now,” she breathed, her body still as she fought to control the fear that coursed through her blood.

Rowan breathed, eyes wide and muscles tense as he did exactly the same, drawing his sword in one hand and clutching Goldryn in the other.

That creature was not supposed to be here. The cave was supposed to be empty, the monster long since dead, killed by Athril and Brannon centuries ago. But here it was, ancient and furious and filled with such violent malevolence it was a wonder how it remained so still and quiet when all it wanted was to rip and tear and roar.

“Holy gods,” Luca whispered, “What is that?”

“Shut up and go,” Aelin hissed, slowly standing from her crouch before the hole.

But the boy still didn’t move. “Now, Luca,” Rowan growled.

Rowan ached to run onto the ice, to get between the princess and the monster, but he couldn’t move, could do nothing at all. If he ran out there, he would just put more stress on the ice, and make it all the more likely that the creature would break through and send them all tumbling into the freezing depths together.

The creature drew still closer to Aelin and Luca, its massive white teeth gleaming in the faint light, it red eye glowing with an ageless fury. And Rowan could only stand on the shore and hold the ice in place, a bridge back to land and out of the dark cave.

Rowan sent his power towards them, strengthening and thickening the ice that connected them to the shore. But the consequence of shifting the focus of his magic was that the rest of the ice covering the lake began to weaken under the pressure of the shifting water. It was a risk he would have to take.

“Don’t look down,” Aelin said, then gave the boy a shove. “Go.”

Luca finally began to shuffle down the path of ice, moving slowly backwards, looking towards where Aelin still stood motionless. Towards the creature that now hovered only a few feet below her. But Aelin did not move.

Rowan wanted to shout at her, to demand that she flee, but he understood. The princess was letting the boy get ahead, was guarding his back. Rowan almost cursed himself. The princess didn’t even have a weapon, and still she waited, curbing her terror, to protect the boy he had so recklessly endangered.

“Faster,” Rowan growled at Luca, who was only halfway to the shore. Aelin still wasn’t moving.

The lake-monster floated even higher, and now Rowan could see every detail of its mutilated face, of its massive, scaled body. Not a dragon or wyvern or serpent, but some monstrous creature in between. A creature even Brannon of the Wildfire had failed to kill. And Aelin still hadn’t moved.

Rowan almost shouted again, but then she finally broke into a shuffle. But before she could make it more than three steps, a bone-white flash snapped up through the depths, twisting like a striking asp.

It was the creature’s long tail, and it whipped against the thin layer of ice with the force of a storm-driven rockfall.

Rowan kept it together through sheer force of will, his muscles straining as the magic took its toll. The surface of the lake rippled and arched, but the icy bridge did not break.

Aelin fell to her knees as the world bounced. Then scrambled, frantically forcing down her own magic as she lurched to the side to avoid the scaled head that hurtled towards the ice just beneath her feet. And once again, the surface quaked.

Rowan’s muscles tensed as he contained the force of the creature’s massive body, his iron will facing the monster’s ancient strength. Sweat began to drip into his eyes, and he blinked it away furiously.

Rowan could feel little pieces of ice breaking off at the edges while he focused on maintaining the ice that protected them from the monster. But no matter how much he pushed, how tightly he wove his magic, those cracks drew ever closer. Invisible tendrils caused by stress. Inevitable and inescapable. A ticking clock.

“Weapon,” Aelin gasped, and Rowan slid Goldryn across the bridge, propelling the blade towards her on a brisk wind.

“Hurry,” he growled at Aelin, drawing his hatchet to replace the lost weapon. If this came to a fight, no matter her skill with a blade, she could not win. And she would drown in the icy water if he couldn’t keep the ice intact.

Aelin scooped up the weapon, swiftly unsheathing the sword and wielding it comfortably in her right hand. But as she freed the blade, Athril’s ring fell onto the ice at her feet. Before Rowan could curse through the struggle of holding the ice in place, Aelin leaned down, grabbed the ring, pocketed it, and ran. Just as the creature’s tail whipped up once again and the ice shuddered.

Except this time, the princess didn’t fall, gracefully sinking onto her haunches to offset the motion of the bucking surface. But Luca did, slipping on the slick surface and landing on his face, motionless.

Aelin didn’t wait for the surface to steady, instead running to protect the vulnerable Luca. She reached the boy in a few more heartbeats and hauled him up, gripping him tightly as she continued their frantic flight, just as the creature began to pound away at the ice, the bridge lifting and stretching again and again and again.

Rowan strained, sweat dripping down his face, his power leeching away as he fought back the immense force of the creature’s massive body.

And then enormous talons joined the tail, gouging deep lines into the rapidly weakening ice. It was all Rowan could do to keep the path between him and Aelin intact, the bridge narrowing and thinning until it was only a slim barrier that melted behind Aelin’s pounding feet like a rippling cape.

The seconds passed like hours until finally, finally, they reached the shore and Rowan could let go, and the ice exploded in a shower of freezing water.

They were now all on dry ground, but they were far from safety. The creature could likely move on land, could pursue them out of the cave and down the mountainside. Their blades were barely toothpicks to a creature so large, and now that the ice was gone, so was their thin layer of protection from those claws and tail and teeth.

So Aelin did not stop, hauling the boy over the rocks and towards the cave entrance where they could just see the pale light of day flickering through the darkness. But before Rowan turned and fled with them, he caught a glimpse the monster trying to crawl onto the shore, its one red eye wild with hunger, its massive teeth promising a brutal, violent death.

And they were running, sprinting out of the darkness and down the side of the mountain, Aelin barely a few feet ahead of him as she dodged rocks and trees, stumbling under the weight of the boy in her arms.

Rowan stayed behind, his sword and hatchet still drawn, guarding their backs just as Aelin had done earlier. They hit the murky trees, leaving the rocky paths behind, and then –

A roar shook the stones and sent the birds scattering into the air. But it was a roar of rage and hunger, not of triumph. Rowan turned to look back up at the cave on the crest of the hill, and saw the swish of a tail, the glint of scales.

After millennia in the watery dark, the monster could not withstand the sunshine.

But Rowan did not relax as he turned and sprinted down through the forest, following after the princess and her young charge as they fled down the mountainside and towards the fortress that was their only protection when night fell.

···

Aelin didn’t slow her relentless pace the whole way down the mountainside. Rowan spent the whole time silently cursing himself.

You complete gods-damned fucking idiot. Gods. Fuck.

He’d almost lost both of them, Aelin and Luca. And if he had, it would’ve been entirely his fault. He’d left Luca alone in the cave for over an hour for godssake. If the monster had come then, if it had been a bit quicker…Gods help him. You fucking idiot.

And Aelin…she had barely escaped with her life. She’d stayed behind, to protect the child he’d endangered in his reckless folly, and nearly been killed herself. If she had died there…Rowan didn’t let the thought complete in his mind. It would have been an undoing of all he had tried to achieve. The hope he tried to foster.

Once Mistward was in sight, Aelin practically threw Luca down the slope, shouting at him to keep his mouth shut about what happened in the cave. Rowan halted a few steps behind her, panting.

She waited until Luca had disappeared into the underbrush, then turned, throwing Goldryn to the ground and snarled at him. “I will kill you.”

Then she launched herself at him.

He dodged her assault automatically. Even in her Fae form, he was faster than her, and instead of slamming into him, she ran headfirst into the tree at his back. But he didn’t have time to get much farther than a step away, and now she was close, too close.

Aelin whirled and lunged once again, teeth bared, and he was trapped between her and an oaken bough. She grabbed him by the front of his jacket and slammed her fist into his face.

Rowan snarled as the pain lanced through his jaw, and threw her roughly to the ground, the breath whooshing out of her. Even so, triumph lined her face, wicked pleasure joining the fury in her scent despite the blood choking her throat and dripping from her nose. Rowan moved to pounce on her chest, but before he could pin her to the ground, Aelin got her legs around him and shoved.

Surprise and fury wiped away the remains of shame and guilt as Rowan lay on his back in the dirt, immobilized by the assassin with ease. There weren’t many Fae that could get the drop on Rowan, and though Aelin had been well-trained, he hadn’t thought that she might be one of them. She moved with a fluid ease, like a snake, or a water-reed. Born and bred for combat. If he hadn’t been so furious, he might have marveled.

Her thighs crushed into his sides as she slammed her fist into his head again, pounding at his tattoo.

“If you ever again bring someone else into this,” she punched him again, mangling the marks still further, “If you ever endanger anyone else the way you did today …” her blood splattered onto his face, joining his own. “I will kill you.”

Rowan had gone still, had stopped fighting. He deserved it. Deserved far worse than a beating for all he had done in this life.

Another strike. “I will rip out your rutting throat.” Aelin bared her canines. “You understand?”

Rowan turned his head to spit out a mouthful of blood. His cheekbones ached. He knew he would have to fix the damage to his tattoo in the morning. And that, more than anything else, had Rowan’s fury pushing back through the apathy, his blood roaring.

It took him a moment to notice, but then he felt Aelin’s power surge. She turned inwards to fight it back down, and Rowan lunged, flipping them over on the grass until she was pinned beneath him.

Rowan spoke without thinking, “I will do whatever I please.”

“You will keep other people out of it!” she screamed, so loudly that the birds stopped chattering. “No one else!”

She thrashed against him, grabbing at his wrists. Her power broke its leash and began burning his arms like hot irons. Though her fingers crisped his skin, his flesh blistering through his burnt shirt, Rowan made no move to remove her hands.

She was too far gone to even notice. The terror of their flight, and then the anger and release of their short brawl had unleashed something in Aelin. Something teased at the edges, aching to be let go. And Rowan wanted to hear it, wanted to understand.

“Tell me why, Aelin.”

“Because I am sick of it!” Air rasped down her lungs, the words escaping her body like uncaged birds. Frantic and desperate and wild.

“I told her I would not help, so she orchestrated her own death. Because she thought …” She laughed, a horrible, painful sound. “She thought that her death would spur me into action. She thought I could somehow do more than her – that she was worth more dead. And she lied – about everything. She lied to me because I was a coward, and I hate her for it. I hate her for leaving me.”

The words barely made sense, but as she spoke them, Aelin’s fury leeched from her, a wave falling back into the sea. She let go of his scorched wrists, though Rowan made no move to get off her.

“Please,” she begged. “Please don’t bring anyone else into it. I will do anything you ask of me. But that is my line. Anything else but that.”

Rowan looked at her pain-wracked face, those golden eyes lined with silver, and slowly, he let go of her arms, his wrists screaming in pain.

He had once thought this girl heartless. A killer. Thought her spoiled and cowardly and spineless.

“How did she die?” Rowan asked, peeling away from her still form, the space between them now a tangible thing.

Her words were cold. “She manipulated a mutual acquaintance into thinking he needed to kill her in order to further his agenda. He hired an assassin, made sure I wasn’t around, and had her murdered.”

“What happened to the two men?” a wry question.

“The assassin I hunted down and left in pieces in an alleyway. And the man who hired him …” Aelin paused, a ghost of memory haunting her face. “I gutted him and dumped his body in a sewer.”

His eyes didn’t leave hers. “Good.”

Good that they had died, good that justice had been served.

But more than that – good that Aelin was the same, that she fought the same monsters, that the same darkness writhed beneath her skin. Good that he wasn’t wrong about her, not a second time. She was his reflection, she was his mirror.

The prince and the assassin, the warrior and the embers.

She stared back at him, and then finally seemed to take in the damage she’d done to his body – her eyes settling on the handprint shaped burns on his forearms.

She stood, her eyes wide and her scent filling with remorse. “I am…so sorry – ” she started, but Rowan held up a hand.

“You do not apologize,” he said, “for defending the people you care about.”

Rowan stood as well, wincing slightly as he flexed his arms. Aelin strode over to where she had abandoned Goldryn and picked it up, saying, “I’m keeping the sword.”

Rowan pursed his lips at her demanding tone, “You haven’t earned it.” No Fae he trained was allowed their own weapons until they were deemed worthy of possessing them.

But then Rowan reconsidered. It would be far more difficult for him to give her the sword later than to let her take it now. The blood oath wouldn’t let him unless he found some way to subvert his intentions. For as long as he intended it as a weapon against Maeve, he couldn’t give it to Aelin outright.

So, though it went against every rule of training he held, Rowan let her keep it. “Consider this a favor. Leave it in your rooms when we’re training.”

Aelin turned her head to look back up the mountain, her brow furrowing. “What if that thing tracks us to the fortress once darkness falls?”

“Even if it does, it can’t get past the wards.”

Aelin just raised her brows in confusion.

“The stones around the fortress have a spell woven between them to keep out enemies. Even magic bounces off it.”

“Oh,” she replied simply, and they began to walk back to the fortress.

“You know,” she said slyly after a few moments of silence, “that’s twice now you’ve made a mess of my training with your tasks. I’m fairly sure that makes you the worst instructor I’ve ever had.”

Rowan gave her a sidelong look. “I’m surprised it took you this long to call attention to it.”

Aelin snorted, and while she didn’t smile exactly, her lips twitched and her expression became warm and open. Though they were both complete wrecks, aching and limping and blood dripping from their faces, the air between them was light, peaceful. And after all that had happened between them, both this afternoon and last night and every night before then, Rowan could still make her smile.

···

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

#WatE repost

13 notes · View notes

makeup-remover-cleansing-balm · 3 years

Text

Omorovicza Thermal Makeup Remover Cleansing Balm

Biodegradable cartons and recyclable packaging help defend our planet. At Ebanel, we inspire to assist others acquire confidence in their own pores and skin and embrace who they are. We make skincare and skin well being our mission so you possibly can stay freely and move boldly. Introducing our NEW service the place you possibly can enjoy a virtual private buying session whereas at house with an skilled magnificence adviser in-retailer. The Instant Cleansing Balm is gentle and mustn't trigger eye irritation click here. Get personalised steerage – from a single product to a simple routine.

Exploring the world of fruits, and their stones, we discovered valuable skin-loving ingredients going to waste. You can use COCO MELT for a facial therapeutic massage on skin that has already been cleansed – for a relaxed and well-cared for complexion. Before utilizing, evaluation any product’s elements by studying the ingredient itemizing to see if you have a recognized allergy to any of the components within the formulation. Do not use any product if allergic to any of the ingredients within the ingredient record.

Using clear fingertips, lightly massage the cleaning balm onto damp or dry pores and skin, avoiding the eye space. Scoop a dime-sized quantity with the included spatula onto dry pores and skin.

Chang recommends it as a result of not only is it “hypoallergenic and perfume-free, making it excellent for those with delicate pores and skin,” however it also is further gentle and lightweight. The method consists of “soothing and anti inflammatory botanicals,” in accordance with Chang, like aloe, inexperienced tea, and ginseng, so it received’t trigger irritation. This micellar water was specifically formulated with oily pores and skin in thoughts. It’s oil-free, so while it removes extra oil on high of the skin, it additionally gained’t add any back in. It’s even noncomedogenic, so these with gentle zits can think about it too. Scoop a small amount into your palms and therapeutic massage onto dry skin, focusing on areas with essentially the most make-up.

It transforms with water right into a creamy facial cleanser that gently and effortlessly removes all traces of make-up, filth, and impurities without tugging, pulling, drying, or making the skin feel tight. is enriched with matcha inexperienced tea, bamboo shoot, and lotus extract. Its extremely mild method melts away make-up quickly and leaves the skin absolutely hydrated. I actually have oily and acne-inclined pores and skin but fortuitously, it didn’t break it. And has a nice faint odor as well, which is a plus for fragrance-delicate skins.

Studies present that the mix of olive oil and sea buckthorn restores compromised obstacles. DR. DENNIS GROSS SKINCARE HYALURONIC MARINE MAKEUP REMOVING MELTAWAY CLEANSER, $48. SHOP NOWThis product is rigorously formulated so that it gained’t strip your pores and skin’s moisture barrier. It contains marine algae, hyaluronic acid, and kiwi, which all work to hydrate and moisturise. Safe to say, I in all probability won't go back to another make-up remover.

youtube

Is This Just Like The Earlier Elf Cleaning Balm?

This cleansing balm uses papaya enzymes, papaya seed oil, and blueberry extract to cleanse and brighten the skin. All these elements assist make the skin smoother and brighter, not to mention make-up-free. This makeup remover cleansing balm made waves when it hit the market, for good reason.

The title really describes the product to a tee because it instantly dissolves upon utility and melts make-up with its soothing inexperienced coloured formulation. comes from the same team answerable for Target’s Who What Wear fashion and accessory line. This model is a clear various skincare line, vegan, and cruelty-free. Versed Day Dissolve Cleansing Balm comes in a cute pink jar and it’s a little smaller (2.three oz) than a number of the other cleaning balms I have tried (3.88 oz). I learn that considered one of these jars is bought each 3.1 seconds. I’m thrilled to see that it's now obtainable in CVS stores in the US.

Put your favourite TULA products on auto-supply & by no means fear about running out. We’ll refill your merchandise on the desired delivery frequency with a pleasant reminder a number of days in advance. However, you've reached the utmost quantity amount for this item . This product – and every different Milani product – is rarely examined on animals.

Cleanse away the day with our S.H.E.RoseMakeup Melt Away Cleansing Balm, a lightweight cleanser that transforms from a stable balm to a liquid oil on contact. This balm cleanses your skin gently because it melts the makeup, mud, and grime. The coconut oil, Shea Butter, and hemp seed oil in this product soften your skin while the flower extracts & different oils work on exfoliation and evenly firming your skin. It also accommodates vitamin E that not solely nourishes but additionally corporations your pores and skin. An elegant, concentrated, water-free cleansing balm rich in helpful oils, Luminous Cleansing Elixir hydrates the pores and skin whereas gently eradicating dirt, debris, and residue from its surface. This richly textured, effective moisturizing makeup remover cleaning balm applies smoothly and has been formulated to be rinsed or tissued off simply, leaving the pores and skin with a satiny really feel.

Looking for a mild way to take away make-up whilst offering nourishment to the pores and skin? Apricot powder is mixed with pores and skin-calming blackcurrant seed, blue tansy and sea buckthorn oils. I am working towards switching to more healthy products that are not full of harmful chemical compounds or toxins.

Most makeup removers are water-primarily based, i.e., micro organism-vulnerable and hard to combine with oil, and they typically lean heavily on parabens as a chemical preservative and PEGs to emulsify. An antioxidant-rich emollient, this plant oil derived from grape seeds nourishes the skin whereas eradicating oil-based mostly impurities gently. It has a excessive content material of linoeleic acid, vitamin E and phenolic compounds, and an anti-inflammatory effect. Follow up with the Soothing Tea Cleansing Gel, a water-primarily based cleanser, to complete your double cleanse ritual and remove water-primarily based impurities. SHOP NOWOnce you give this buttery, makeup-eradicating cleaning balm a strive, it’s tough to use anything else. It smells delightful, however it additionally is available in a fragrance-free choice if that’s more your velocity. MARA CHIA + MORINGA ALGAE ENZYME CLEANSING OIL, $92.

Because a few of the balm shall be left behind, the collagen-boosting and antioxidant-wealthy mix may have extra time to get to work. Clean It Zero Cleansing Balm Original is a K-beauty favorite of ours. It's a 3-in-one hybrid that exfoliates, hydrates, and cleanses by eradicating makeup, dirt, and oil in a single fell swoop. Sourced from Japan, pearl barley accommodates numerous components to help external injury of the skin by moisturizing, brightening hyperpigmentation, and gently cleanse. Rich in vitamin E, omega-3 and omega-6 fatty acids, and antioxidants that protect in opposition to harmful pollutants.

The Inkey List has been doing skin care right since day one, and its Oat Cleansing Balm is yet another nice launch. Formulated with oat kernel oil to maintain pores and skin hydrated and one p.c colloidal oatmeal to reduce redness, this luxurious method won't ever strip your delicate pores and skin of moisture. Rub between palms to warm & therapeutic massage into dry skin using round motions.

Most of the cleansing balms are overflowing with pure oils however not with the precise cleaning ingredient.

Once water is added, they emulsify and get to work.

LANEIGE has created a great cleaning oil known as Perfect Pore Cleansing Oil.

In the absence of surfactants, cleansing balms go away the skin with clogged pores, excess oil and pores and skin breakouts.

"This creamy balm whisks away all types of make-up, sunscreen, and other gunk and grime."

Since cleaning balms start as a hard texture , you’ll need to work it into your skin. “As you massage the balm on the skin, the heat out of your arms turns the consistency to gentle and buttery,” says Dr. Chimento. Once you’re carried out cleaning your skin, take a soft material , and gently wipe your face to clear the balm off. You’ll notice all the residue and make-up that the balm removes on the material.

We use California tangerines to Implement a natural pigment and fresh perfume. Rosemary oil offers stimulation, oxygenation and overall reviving refreshment to skin. It can be antibacterial, serving to to stop breakouts. Rosemary oil is an anti-inflammatory and also works wonders on puffiness across the eyes. Sea buckthorn oil, excessive in vitamin E, C and Omega 7 fatty acids, helps skin retain its elasticity. Naturally hydrating, this oil keeps pores and skin moisturised, avoiding dryness and irritation.

Otherwise, the is one of my favorite drugstore formulas. Some of the oils on this formula include eucalyptus leaf oil, clove leaf oil, jojoba seed oil, avocado oil, apricot kernel oil, sclerocarya birrea seed oil and sesame seed oil. The scent of the eucalyptus leaf oil and particularly the clove leaf oil could be very sturdy. Clove oil all the time appears to dominate no matter formula it is in. Elemis' Makeup remover Cleansing Balm actually melts into your skin. The added lavender, chamomile, and eucalyptus oils provide a luxurious experience and go away your pores and skin feeling completely clean. This balm turns into a lightweight oil as soon as worked into your skin.

Here are 10 of the best cleansing balms to see you safely by way of the cold. This cleanser is sort of a morning juice for your skin. May be used as step one of your double cleaning routine, or as a single cleaning step. It also did an excellent job of cleansing my face and eradicating my make-up. Wait for cleansing balm to chill fully and solidify earlier than using. Some of you could discover that I reused the container from my Beautycounter cleansing balm. I’m at all times up for reusing jars and bottles whenever possible!

This cleansing balm is also formulated with coconut oil and a wide range of plant extracts, including antioxidant Rosemary leaf extract and anti-inflammatory Centella Asiatica. The cleansing balm additionally incorporates shea butter and squalane for additional moisture and to soothe the pores and skin. It has a customized fragrance blend of bergamot, vetiver, and verbena oils. It’s only 2.25 oz, so when you use this every day to remove your makeup, it won’t last lengthy. The value makes up for it though, as it is one of the least costly cleaning balms that I tried.

#makeup remover cleansing balm

1 note · View note

incoherentbabblings · 4 years

Text

Take Back the Cake, Burn the Shoes, and Boil the Rice (2/11)

Within two months there have been two murders of Gotham newlyweds moments after the ceremony. The only connecting factor was both brides wore the same designer’s work. Needing to establish who exactly is behind the crimes, Bruce enlists Tim and Stephanie to have the biggest wedding Gotham high society has seen in decades, putting a target on their heads not just for the killer, but Gotham society too. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

Ao3 Link Here!

Tim’s Thursday began well – a morning at work which had ended with his lunch break going into one of Gotham’s nicest department stores. He had pulled some strings, using Wayne “clout”, to get an appointment with the jewellers there.

Bruce had said no budget, and Tim was going to take him at his word.

Now he was sat, glass of bubbly champagne sitting untouched, at the desk of a man with a thinner moustache than Alfred, but a belly three times the size. Tim rubbed his knees, more than a little uncomfortable.

“I need an engagement ring, a promise ring, and wedding bands.”

He had a plan, of sorts. The engagement and wedding rings were all for show – the more expensive, the better. He didn’t want them to be ugly – he wasn’t going to make Stephanie wear something she loathed on her finger for two months, and he wasn’t that frivolous with money – but they had to be ostentatious enough to catch people’s attention. The fact that he was even here would be enough, but let it be said that the Bats knew drama like no other.

The promise ring was… well it was part of a plan that Tim had no proof would ever reach the stage of being offered, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared. That one, he would buy with nothing but Stephanie in mind.

The man at the table blinked, gears in his head turning, and he became ever more effusive. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together.

“Any ideas for these rings?”

Tim raised his chin, trying to appear confident. “Purple and white for the engagement, plain wedding band for me but diamonds for hers.”

“Budget?”

Tim scoffed, and the man smiled widely.

“It’s such a moment for me, to have a Wayne be a patron once more. Mr Wayne’s father used to frequent here, or so I’m told. You’re in good company.”

The endless cabinets that circled the room were suddenly emptied by a small army of assistants, each laying out more diamonds and sapphires and amethysts than Tim would ever know what to do with. The amount of money in this room… no wonder people hated him and his family.

Trying not to appear overwhelmed, Tim quickly chose the wedding bands. White gold, Stephanie’s with embedded diamonds that circled the entire ring, his a chunky thing that felt weighty on his finger. A constant reminder of the promise he would make. Tim smiled tightly at the thought. With a little luck, he would make that promise to be faithful and true and in sickness and in health... With a lot of luck, he’d be able to fulfil those promises, and she for him.

For now though, he was stuck buying rings that he knew neither of them truly wanted.

He and Steph both didn’t like white gold… though how Tim knew this, he didn’t know. It just lacked a warmth. Stephanie didn’t wear much jewellery anyway. The odd set of earrings here and there, one or two necklaces… no rings. No bracelets. No watches.

He wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t like to, or she just couldn’t afford to.

Resting his chin on an arm on the table, Tim mused over a shortlisted row of rings. The man across the table licked his lips and leaned in closer. Tim moved backwards, a little put out. The man seemed undeterred.

“May I enquire… the lady you are buying these for?

Oh boy. And with that it started. He told the truth, for whatever it was worth. He smiled in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it would fool the overly curious seller.

“I’ve known her since I was fourteen.” True. “Childhood sweetheart, I guess?” Half true. False. For now.

Down boy. Focus.

Tim finally settled on a sapphire ring that was almost lilac in shade. Twelve carats, whatever that meant, surrounded by oval shaped diamonds and smaller, glimmering purple and pink stones. It was huge, with no price given, and was sure to make Stephanie cringe.

“David Morris…” The man nodded approvingly, like Tim was supposed to know or care who that was. “His son continues to do very good work. That ring is a beauty no?”

It would do.

“And the promise ring? For the same lady?”

Tim tried not to read into much about the implication that he kept multiple women.

“Yeah… Rose gold for this one.”

The man’s nose twitched, and with a wave of his hand more rings appeared, though the selection was much smaller.

Tim didn’t like any of them, however. Too granny-ish. Rose gold wasn’t popular with the younger crowd apparently. The sales manager sighed sadly, tapping his fingers on the table, thinking of a solution. Tim knew he was acting exaggeratedly, as what Tim wanted wasn’t impossible to provide. Especially not at the price he was about to pay.

“Is there one perhaps, you do like, that we could refit? We could make something entirely bespoke, if you wished, but if there is one design –”

“The pink sapphire – the one that looks like a flower.” With a jerk of his jaw, Tim drew the man’s attention to a smaller set of rings. Still much more expensive than what 90% of Gotham’s population would be willing to pay for a ring, but more manageable for Tim.

The man patted his belly. “Are you sure Mr Wayne? It is only two carats. There are other—”

“Drake-Wayne.” Tim interrupted quietly, still looking at the ring. “And yes. I’m sure.”

A diamond shaped pink sapphire sat surrounded by eight pear shaped diamonds, with the gaps between the points filled with more pink sapphires. The band also had embedded diamonds, but they stopped part of the way round. It was currently in white gold, but Tim thought it would look better in the softer pink shaded gold. It was utterly girly, and he wanted it for Stephanie.

Before he signed an agreement which contained too many zeroes, Tim threw in a bracelet for good measure with carved rubies. Birds were engraved in the deep red, and Tim wanted Stephanie to have something that was shamelessly meant to make her think of him whenever she saw it.

In the back of his head he could hear Stephanie’s discomfort, but he had a date to attend to. Hiding in one of the department store’s bathroom cubicles, he threw off his suit in a way that would have Alfred disappointed in him, switching for a t-shirt and a plaid over-shirt with dark jeans. Ramming his dress shoes into his backpack, he fled the store, high on excitement and the knowledge that he had just spent a million dollars on jewellery. Hopping in his red car and tossing his bag towards the trunk, Tim patted himself on the back, then set off for the college campus.

Stephanie was waiting for him, at the steps of one of the medical buildings. Tim was laughing before she even got in the car.

“What?” She said, collapsing in a heap. “What’s so funny?”

“We match.”

Stephanie recoiled, noticing that she was wearing a thin plaid hoodie, green t-shirt and jeans. Looking at Tim’s clothes, she cursed quietly.

A moment’s pause followed, Tim laughing to himself against the wheel of the redbird. It had been some time since he had laughed just because something was funny, and not from an occasion calling for a fake smile or laughing in derision at himself or others.

It was enough to make her want to tease him.

Wordlessly, she went to leave the car, reopening the door. Tim squeaked, reaching across her and shutting it.

“No! It’s cute! Come on, I got my skateboards in the back. Gonna have you riding by the end of the day.”

“Right.” She threw on her seatbelt. Tim set off. They sat in happy silence for a while as they moved from one Gotham island to another. Growing more comfortable, the radio playing quietly, barely above the sound of the engine, Stephanie smiled.

“Dare I ask how was work this morning?”

Tim gave such a sigh that signalled that he was happy, albeit a little stressed. “It’s okay actually!” He confirmed. “Getting started with a couple new projects, so lots to plan.”

“Bruce helping you?”

“Yeah, actually he’s…” He turned into the multi-storey, getting through the barrier. “I think he’s pulling back on a bunch of stuff.”

“Getting ready to retire at the ripe age of forty-seven? Tragic.”

Tim laughed again, backing the car into a tight space expertly. “Well, not like Dick is in a hurry to join the board.”

“No, he’s busy preparing to cover the other job I think.”

“Right.” Handbrake on. Engine off. “Dick will do the Gotham night job; I’ll do the Gotham day.”

He sounded content with that routine. Stephanie thought he was lying.

“Cass?”

“International night job.”

“Damian?”

Tim shrugged, opening the door and getting out. Before Stephanie could get out on her own, Tim was already at her side, opening the door for her. She clambered out, the redbird sat pretty low compared to her own little car.

It was cloudy, but dry, spring well under way. Robinson park was filled with lines and lines of blooming flowers, little lakes with bobbing ducks, and large open spaces to lay out and snooze. Plenty of space to practice her balance and roll in a straight line.

Stephanie put on her backpack and tried not to look clumsy when Tim handed her one of his boards.

She gasped when he slapped a helmet on her head. Slapping it repeatedly, he laughed.

“Safety first.”

And so began their ‘dates’. Two weeks of what would have been considered beforehand just a regular day of them hanging out, now had different connotations. She took a step by holding his hand everywhere. He took a step by taking many photos of her to post online, either alone or with Cassandra when she deigned to join them. Steph would frequently grow embarrassed by the attention, and insist he be in half of the photos with her.

Honestly, it was not as bad as she feared, however that was largely because of how shallow the interactions felt. Not much of substance was spoken, largely because they couldn’t, being in such public spaces. She could feel people doing double takes at them, and every now and then someone would take photographs, but it was never enough to disorient her.

So far so good. Except she suspected the reason they were being left to their own devices was that they had been seen together in the past, Cassandra usually in tow, so she was nothing more than a family friend. They were going to have to up the ante a little.

Stephanie met Tim one night at the base of Wayne Tower. He had changed again for her, out of his suit.

“You look handsome.” She teased. Tim burned red. He said nothing, only staring at her, then went to lean forward for a greeting kiss.

Stephanie leaped back. She didn’t mean to, and she tried not to think too much of how vulnerable Tim looked from her rejection. Gulping, she buried herself into his chest, tugging his left arm around her waist.

“Where are we heading?” She asked, desperate to move on from that awkward moment.

Tim’s coat pocket buzzed aggressively. When he looked, he swore.

“What?”

“It’s a text… from Dick?”

Stephanie grabbed his arm.

There’s a festival on Amusement Mile tonight! Could be fun wink wink.

Stephanie was flabbergasted. “I thought he was in space? Like fifty light years away?”

Tim stared at the screen. “He is…”

He looked down at her, and the two exchanged confused glances.

“You mean he—”

“Found a way to text me across time and space only for the message to be to take you to the fair? Sure. Let’s go with that.”

Tim sighed, dragging a laughing Stephanie off with him in the direction of Amusement Mile.

“Wingman to the rescue!” Chortling to herself, Tim couldn’t help but join in.

Amusement mile was lit up bright when they arrived, music blasting and lots of young families crowding in. Dick had done good in pouring half his inheritance into the strip, despite it being an obvious target for people like the Joker. The Wayne’s had stubbornly continued to fund it alongside the city council, allowing for entertainment beyond shopping in Gotham.

It had a certain charm about it – well maintained, but still old fashioned. The lighting was warm, oranges and yellows and reds, and each ride and stall was blasting out its own variety of generic trance and dance music. It was so busy that it felt private, as everyone was absorbed with their own fun.

“Want a snack?” Stephanie asked, pulling Tim over to one of the vans. “I have a hankering for nachos.”

“I dunno. Kind of want something sweet.” And then he nudged her.

She made a face, brain now focusing on the prospect of salty fried food. “Urr no. Sweets is for after.” She joined the queue, rummaging through her little bag for her purse.

Tim groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. “You missed my clever flirt!”

She rotated to stare, feet fixed in place. “Huh?”

Suddenly Tim was bashful. He couldn’t say it again. She had rejected him twice now, and so decisively too.

“Doesn’t matter.” He said.

Eyebrows drawn into a frown, Stephanie watched as Tim smiled awkwardly. He would do it when hurt, but not willing to admit it. The next step would be shuffling his feet, jamming his hands in his pocket, and directing his gaze elsewhere, anywhere but the person who had hurt him.

Stephanie watched as he proceeded to do exactly that.

She hated seeing him sad, even if she didn’t understand why. Reaching up, she cradled the back of his neck, fingers in his black hair, trying to provide some sort of physical comfort. She felt how tense his muscles were, and Tim sighed when she squeezed and rubbed at the base of his skull. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed her touch, making do with what she could offer him.

“Tim?”

“Mm.”

“What’s wrong?” He blinked, expression freezing.

“Nothing.”

“No, there is.” They stepped forward in the queue. “Tell me?”

Quietly pleading, Stephanie resumed her strokes. Tim tilted his head, allowing her better access.

“Nightmares.” Tim answered. Cooing, she curled closer. Neither of them knew how genuine the other was being, but Tim played along regardless. “It… they aren’t of anything specific, but I just wake up with like…this pressure on my chest and I don’t sleep well.”

“Honey, you’ve never slept well.” Pet names. Tim’s heart stuttered a little. He missed her sweethearts and honeys, more than he realised. He lied to himself and believed she was saying them sincerely, and not just playing the role of the concerned girlfriend. Her thumb found the bone behind his ear, rubbing it therapeutically. “When did these kind start?”

Another step forward in the queue. As the pair spoke, they had moved closer and closer, and Tim’s arm had begun to wrap around her waist. Stephanie distantly heard people behind them muttering, and could feel others staring at the overt pda, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Couple of months ago.”

The comfort that Tim felt at her miserable look was indescribable. That wasn’t faked, she wasn’t capable of lying with that level of sincerity. It wasn’t that he enjoyed her being sad at his expense, not even close, but the confirmation that she still cared deeply was heartening. Whether it was people in general or specifically directed at himself, Tim didn’t care. Being Batgirl hadn’t dampened her kindness.

Not for the first time, Tim was struck at how much she had grown, and how much he had seemingly regressed. Paralleled journeys, but Tim couldn’t bring himself to accept that he was destined to be as lonely and as miserable as he felt on his worst nights. He hadn’t completely given up hope. Neither had Steph, because after a moment of thought, she reassuringly tugged on his earlobe.

“We’ll figure it out.” She said. And then, unable to help herself, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. It could have been read as platonic, as it was so quick and chaste to be seen as anything but, however when he turned to look at her, expression a little desperate, hand on her hip twitching, it seemed she finally understood what he wanted.

They kissed, once, twice, three times before a flash of light, the flash of a phone, made Stephanie break away. Tim turned his head, noticing a group of teens trying to hide their phones.

Bingo. He couldn’t help it, he smiled smugly.

Stephanie seemed to catch it and became stiff in his hold. They were called forward to the van, and Stephanie stepped away from Tim in a vain attempt to move forward and distract herself.

Kissing him was a mistake. She had avoided it then and she should have avoided it now, but he had played her like a piano and… it had felt right.

Breath shaking, she paid for her food. Tim put his arm back around her, and she cursed herself for relaxing back into it. Her body and mind were of two different opinions for Tim, and it was making her miserable.

She continued to play the game, feeding Tim chips, making him take photos of her on the merry-go-round, clinging close to his side, but as the night went on, she felt increasingly hollow. It would almost have been easier to pretend to be in love with someone she loathed, but being there with Tim, knowing that his smiles were genuine when the circumstances were forced... It was emotionally taxing.

She couldn’t tell, not anymore, what was real and what was just to grab folk’s attention, and it was eating at her. What made it more intolerable was that her and Tim were spending no time together in private. And how could they? College was kicking her ass more than normal and Tim had a high-flying job that required so much of his time. When they were free, they were out together.

She craved alone time with him.

Tim meanwhile saw Stephanie was faltering and tried to think of a way to end the evening on a high note.

“You ever won one of those arcade games?”

Stephanie, whose face was half hidden behind a giant ball of cotton candy, was quiet when she responded, “I thought they were rigged.”

“Oh sure. There’s a knack to them though.”

He looked around at one he could win at.

The shooting range was closest. The prizes ranged from mediocre to crass, but Stephanie didn’t miss the childish glee that sparked in his eyes at the sight of a ridiculously large plush duck. Like a rubber duck for the bathtub, but the size of a toddler. It was the kind of thing she could have straddled and bounced along the road on if she was determined enough.

“Tim please don’t win me that duck.”

“You don’t want it?”

“I do not need a giant duck.”

“Not asking if you need it.” He took a large chunk of her cotton candy, shivering in delight when it dissolved in his mouth. “Asking if you wanted it.”

Still hidden behind the sugar, she looked down. “My answer doesn’t matter does it? You’re gonna show off?”

“Oh yeah. You want a go too?”

“No… no I’ll watch you.”

And over they wandered to the stall. They had to wait until a young father and his daughter finished their turn before Tim could step forward. Stephanie watched them, the father encouraging his little girl. She wasn’t very good, as to be expected of a seven-year-old, and so won nothing. She got upset for a moment, distraught that she wasn’t good enough to get a prize. Her father got down next to her for a hug, muttering reassurances.

Impulsively, Stephanie butted in.

“Excuse me?” Both the girl and father looked up. The dad’s suspicious look turned friendly when he saw it was Stephanie’s unthreatening form. She held out her cotton candy. “I’m full. Do you think she’d want this?” A pause, as both parties processed what she was offering. “Is she allowed candy? I just… I just…”

She trailed off awkwardly, regretting having spoken. The little girl released Stephanie from the emotional turmoil and turned to her father.

“Can I?”

The father took the stick from Stephanie. He looked a little bamboozled by the abruptness of the offer. He nodded his thanks, then nudged the little girl, who squealed.

“Thank you!”

“Welcome.”

As the father and daughter walked away, the dad caught Stephanie staring at his little girl. Stephanie tried to smile in a way that was endearing at the man, and not like she was thinking of twelve different ways to stuff the little girl in the boot of her car. The father smiled back, so Stephanie supposed it worked.

She turned back to the stall, to see Tim smiling dopily at her. He kissed her temple, and she sighed, tension leaving her as he did so. He walked towards the vendor, calling out over his shoulder,

“You’re too good for this city sometimes… you know that, right?”

“Tim…” She wandered back to his side. “Just win me that duck, would you?”

And win her the ridiculous duck he did. Stephanie knew the entire family were pretty handy with guns. She herself was good with them, though she loathed their weight in her hands. Jason aside, Dick was the best shot she’d ever seen, and of course Kate knew her way around a firearm too, so she should have expected it from Tim.

He shot the row of ducks quickly and smoothly, definitely showing off, but Stephanie couldn’t really find it in her to pretend to be impressed. The rifle was old, the pellets were harmless, and Tim was shooting yellow plastic ducks on a rotating bicycle chain... But still. She didn’t like seeing Tim with a gun.

The duck seemed larger off the hanger, and she struggled to hold it without it tripping her up or completely unbalancing her.

As they walked away, Stephanie resorted to pulling it up, resting on her head like a basket filled with goods for the local market.

“Very nice.” Tim teased. He nudged her, making her stumble to the side, completely off kilter with such a weight on her head. She laughed breathlessly, then threw herself back at him. He caught her, hands in intimate places, and pulled her round. She quickly got the idea, and hopped on his back, resting her chin on his shoulder. She placed the duck on top of them both, and Tim stumbled out the fair, deliriously happy that her mood had been lifted.

They barely noticed the stares and photos that were taken. The following morning Stephanie saw she had been tagged in a few Instagram posts, and on twitter the pair were mildly trending, though not enough to cause her alarm. She continued to attend her classes and not speak to Tim until he would message her, asking when she was next free.

It was a Friday, three weeks into their ‘dating’ when he asked her out to dinner.

A nice dinner.

A really nice dinner.

“Alfred bought you some clothes.” Tim had said when he came to pick her up that night. Crystal had answered the door to glower at Tim, only to find him holding four hangers with dresses on them. Stephanie, pushing in front of her mother, was wearing a basic pink dress. The ones in Tim’s arms were blue or green. No babyish pink to be found.

“What I’m wearing isn’t good enough for you?”

Faced with two potentially angry Browns, Tim shook his head.

“No! No, you look beautiful! You always look beautiful.”

Crystal snorted; Stephanie looked like she was going to cry. She was wearing her hair up in a bun, tiny earrings hanging from her lobes. She peered at the choices.

“Alfred bought them?”

“He was shopping for Cassandra and saw these. Said they made him think of you.”

“Somehow I don’t find that reassuring.” She took them from his grip and turned back around, stomping back inside. If Tim had been expecting to be allowed back in the house, he was denied. Crystal remained in the doorway, wearing a faded blue dressing gown. Her slippers were grey and fluffy. She was one of the most intimidating things he had ever looked at.

He tried to smile at her, but she wouldn’t have it.

“You are ruining her life.”

The sentence was short, sharp, and honest. Tim’s breathing stopped, and he said nothing in response. Thoroughly shamed, he stared at his feet.

Not me. He wanted to beg. Bruce. Bruce was the one who failed her.

But he knew that Crystal was referring to them all, the whole lot of them, when she said “you”. He also knew that Crystal knew what they were about to go through, and was not happy about it.

There was a part of him, out of anger for Steph, and maybe he was projecting a little after his own parents, that wanted nothing more to snap at her: Oh? Now you care about your daughter’s wellbeing?

Tim had taken care of Steph years before Crystal had gotten her act together. Heck, it had taken Steph dying for Crystal to truly pull herself together. No drugs, no emotional unavailability, no shitty husbands and brothers and friends hanging around the house on her watch.

Tim bit his tongue. Stephanie was trying so hard to have a functional relationship with her mother, but Tim couldn’t let go of the disappointment on her behalf.

Not that Tim had much better examples to go off of, Dana more than anyone tried the hardest, and whilst Bruce tried...

No. Not going down that rabbit hole.

Tim said nothing, knowing no words would help the situation, and cowered under Crystal’s stare. The ring in his blazer pocket weighed heavier and heavier with each passing moment. He had kept the engagement ring on his person since he had taken it home, not knowing when he would have to whip it out.

His other pocket buzzed then. His phone. Pulling it out, thankful for a distraction from the silent tower of a future “mother-in-law”, he saw that Bruce was phoning.

Caught between not wanting to appear rude to Crystal and potentially missing important information from Bruce, Tim decided that Crystal’s opinion of him was already shot, and answered the phone, still avoiding her stare.

“Hey Bruce. Just about to take Steph out. What’s up?”

“Another couple have died.”

Tim finally looked upwards at Crystal, seeing that she could sense something had gone wrong.

“…Same connection?”

“Yes.”

The ring felt a thousand tonnes.

“We’ll… we’ll speed it up.”

“I will speak to the designer tonight. See how she’s doing. If she knows anything. There’s still no public suspicion of her. Both of you come back home after you’re done at the restaurant.”

“Okay.” Crystal had stepped closer, out onto the little step that granted access to the front door. She was blatantly eavesdropping. Tim remained frozen on the spot. “Thanks for… thanks.” He ended lamely, hanging up. Crystal looked very pale.

“I…” Tim started. How could he convince Stephanie’s mother that all would work out? No words would do the job.

Stephanie interrupted them. Her voice drifting closer as she tripped down the main staircase, blissfully ignorant.

“I went with the dark green. I like green. Dark green.” She paused when two pale faces stared back at her. Tim struggled to reconcile how beautiful she was with the fact that the pair’s mortality was staring them in the face. Tim’s death was always something he accepted as part of his job. Stephanie’s was out of the question.

Her smile tightened; teeth clenched. “What’s wrong?”

Crystal sniffed in a way that indicated she was going to cry, and left the two alone, slamming the door shut on her daughter in a manner that made Stephanie baffled. She turned back to Tim, who seemed to grow more upset by the moment.

“What’s going on?”

Tim absentmindedly tugged on the little cap sleeve of the dress, admiring it on her.

“I’ll tell you on the way.” As Stephanie followed him to the car, she looked back at her house, worried for her mother.

It was a silent drive to the restaurant, this time with the radio off and the engine in general being quiet in the drive through the city. It was awful, tense and uncomfortable. Stephanie watched as Tim’s eyes flittered everywhere, the windows, the mirrors, the road and her. He was panicking a little.

She kept quiet until they approached the restaurant. Then Tim spoke unprompted.

“We’ll have to go back to the manor after this. Bruce called me, says another couple has died. Same designer.”

Slowly, Stephanie turned to look at Tim. He was trying to stay focused, as if pulling up to valet parking involved particularly difficult manoeuvres.

“Three times isn’t a coincidence.” She stated.

“No.” His knuckles were white from gripping the wheel so tightly.

“Those poor people.”

Tim let the air come out of his chest in a woosh whilst Steph stared at her palms resting in her lap. He reached across with one hand and took hers. Intertwining the fingers, she observed his beautiful but scarred hands. Another moment of thoughtful silence ensued.

“You okay to keep going?”

She forced a smile. “Bruce’ll solve it in no time.”

It was only part of the way through their soup did Tim drop his little spoon with a clatter. They had been trying to do small talk, being aggressively cutesy in sight of the other restaurant patrons and staff, but it was difficult, as neither of their moods were particularly lending themselves to lying.

“…Tim?”

He looked at her, pale blue eyes wide from fear. His adams apple bobbed in his thin neck.

“Stephanie.” He said, standing up so quickly his chair fell back, and the table rattled. The crystal champagne glasses shuddered, and the china made an awful clang. Stephanie made an oopf noise and rested her hand over the glasses to prevent spillage.

“Sweetie, what’s wron…” She trailed off as Tim moved to her side of the table and knelt down in front of her. She began to hiss. “No! Now?”

Tim reached into his inner jacket pocket, pulling out a little black box. “We have to speed it up.”

Stephanie felt she was close to hyperventilating, eyes flitting to the other customers surrounding their central table.

“You should have warned me! Not in public…”

“It had to be.” Tim retorted. He knew how much she hated it. He did also. If he ever did propose, it would be in private, because no-one else mattered for that moment. Only he and the person he proposed to should matter, not faceless people voyeuristically watching them. But neither of them were going to get what they wanted. Not for now at least.

Stephanie did not need to dig for her surprised face, as she burst into tears the moment Tim popped open the box. Sat inside was possibly the largest ring she had ever seen.

It was hideous.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” She screeched, slapping the table. People who were already staring from the proposal dropped their food in their lap at the swearing woman.

Blowing her nose extra hard on the fancy serviette, she tried to bring her emotions back to dignified. However, every time she caught sight of the hunking stones glittering in the dim light, she lost it.

Six dead people were hanging over her head she was stuck in a dress she didn’t buy there were more cutlery pieces on the table than ordered courses and he had dropped this on her with no warning and okay fine she knew in the back of her head it was coming but still –

Tim leaned back slightly, not sure what to make of it, if her shock and rage was directed at him or herself. Heavily hinting at her, he tried to get the proposal back on track and smiled lopsidedly. “That’s a yes, right?”

The bastard…

“Fuck! You stupid shit, fuck!” She caught glances of neighbouring tables and tried to smile, though she couldn’t see much clearly from her stinging eyes. There was no point trying to verbalise that she was insulting herself, not the poor boy on the floor in front of her.

God, her eyes just wouldn’t stop watering and she couldn’t feel any more like the kind of women she made fun of on reality tv shows. “Yes, I will marry you! Yes, yes, yes!”

There was a painfully awkward pause as she didn’t know what to do next. Entering panic mode, Tim punched her leg, making her spasm down off the chair into his arms. He hoped her outburst would be read in an eccentric relatable manner, and not the freak out of a woman who could really do with an acting class or two.

A few tables were clapping politely, probably more miffed than endeared to the couple. Tim rocked Steph from side to side.

“Okay?” He whispered, conscious of the fact that she may have genuinely gone into shock.

“That ring is hideous, Tim.” She blubbered into his ear.

“Well, it’s only for two months.” He muttered, more than a little dejected. God, he hoped – if he got the chance to offer it – that she would like the promise ring more.

“Hoo!” She leaned back from the embrace, head facing the ceiling. Her cat eyeliner look that she had painstakingly applied had flooded down her cheeks. Tim’s collar felt a little wet, and would no doubt be stained black. She smiled in a way that reminded Tim of a hyena. “Oh, wow! What a ring. Oh sweetheart...”

Tim nodded and nodded and nodded like a ventriloquist doll and pulled it out of its case, flinging aside the box with exaggerated disinterest.

“All yours! For as long as you’ll have me.”

She looked down as he slid it on. It weighed heavily on her finger.

She tugged Tim closer to her, bumping their foreheads together. She clung tight to his hair, and he could feel her trembling.

“Fuck.” She whispered.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Steph…”

“Love you.” She said. The suddenness of it seemed to surprise them both, and to cover it up she kissed Tim. Actions were easier than words, they always had been with him.

The reality of what they had undertaken came crashing down on her, and she dreaded the morning to come.

#my fic tag #timsteph #tim drake #stephanie brown #dc

17 notes · View notes

shikai-the-storyteller · 4 years

Text

CYBERVERSE WATCH: S3 Episode 17, 18, 19, 20

Episode 17

Oh nooo Windblade u good??? LASERBEAK AND WINDBLADE OMG!!!

Beaky please don’t peck my girl (that is kinda cute though)

Windblade she isn’t a pest!!!

Laserbeak watches her fly off like “I get no respect and no thanks???”

HECK YEAH GET THEM FLIERS!!! Jetfire please be careful bud, Starscream has some old beef with you

OH NO ALL THE ALTERNATE UNIVERSE SOUNDWAVES

The only downside to knowing all these characters and getting excited about cameos is it’s that many times more likely that a character I like will die 8(

YEAHH WAY TO GO LASERBEAK you’re the real MVP

JEEZ HE GOT OPTIMUS RIGHT IN THE CHEST

HEY CAN SOMEONE PLEASE SAVE OPTIMUS

OH SHOOT WHO IS THAT

OH FRICK OH FRICK ITS MEGATRON!!! HELL YEAH

Megatron, a million universes away: My “Optimus is in trouble” and “Starscream is being a menace” senses are tingling, gotta go back to Cybertron

FRICK that was a cool entrance

Oh man what happened to his eye--HOLY FRICK HE LOOKS HOT

AYYYYYY ITS THE OG BLACK HELMET MEGATRON LOOK AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

MAN I FRICKIN LOVE MEGATRON

KUP NOW ISN”T THE TIME FOR YOUR COMMENTARY (that was cute though)

Oh my gosh when Starscream started to say “You’re too late to save your--” for one very frightful minute I thought he was going to say something about Optimus like “partner” or something and I felt every muscle in my body tense up lmao, I should’ve known better but RATS

WHAT

WHAT THE FRICK THAT WAS SO FRICKIN COOL

IS THERE ANYTHING HOTTER THAN WAKING UP TO SEE YOUR OLD FLAME STANDING OVER YOU GLOWING LIKE A VENGEFUL ANGEL ABOUT TO KICK STARSCREAM’S BUTT

POWERS OF CYBERTRON UNITE??!?!?!?!?

EVEN OPTIMUS GOT SOME

BOYFRIENDS PUNCHING STARSCREAM’S ARMY OF QUINTESSONS TOGETHER!!!! SHADOWSTRIKER!!! BEE AND SOUNDWAVE!!!! GOSH THIS IS SO GOOD

WRECK THEIR SHOP SOUNDWAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Starscream you’ve sentenced them like five thousand times what’s new about this OH RIGHT I FORGOT ABOUT THAT GLOB STUFF

ASTROTRAIN!?!?!?!?

Starscream: NO ONE CAN STOP ME *CUTS TO WINDBLADE* wanna bet nerd

I LOVE my beautiful girl

Oh that is some nasty looking Quintesson tech

Uh oh u good Windblade???

Croaton can you please slap Starscream out of the sky before you leave it’d save us a lot of time

Aw man I wonder what Megatron saw that made him sorta regret the stuff with Starsc

HE”S BARING HIS SPARK!?!?!? WAIT IS THAT ANOTHER MATRIX

ARE THEY GONNA FUSE????

MEGATRON PRIME

GOSH I REALLY THOUGHT THEY WERE GOING TO FRICKIN SPARK FUSE THERE FOR A SECOND

*CUE “THE POWER OF LOVE” AT FULL VOLUME*

Ok but what the heck did Astrotrain do???

If you get along with someone you don’t like the universe probably won’t end pfft, thanks Kup

CREEPY BUGS???

Megatron please take his hand :(((

IM LOSING IT MEGATRON REALLY IS A HUGE KID *takes out a piece of chalk and draws a line between them* this is MY side of Cybertron, this is yours

guess galavanting through space didn’t change him TOO much

Guhhh these opposing sides shots always break my heart I WISH THEY COULD OVERCOME THEIR DIFFERENCES AND BE FRIENDS AGAIN SOMEHOW....

Dang Astrotrain is HUGE compared to the rest of the bots, I wonder what he looks like in bot mode

SO MUCH HAPPENED IN THAT EPISODE (and I had to take a break in the middle of it) I FORGOT I STILL HAD THREE LEFT thank the stars

I genuinely can't believe Megatron essentially drew a line between him and Optimus and went "This side of Cybertron is MINE, the other side is yours"

*cue shenanigans of Autobot and Decepticon buddies trying to secretly cross the line to visit their friends in the other faction*

gosh fanfic always depicts Megatron and Optimus sneaking around meeting each other for smoochies I'd LOVE to see their subordinates being the ones doing the sneaking around while Megatron and Optimus are just like "GUYS....". Fingers crossed for the next episode!

Episode 18

CYBERTRON LOOKS SO PRETTY....

oh my gosh they actually built a wall

WAIT DID CLOBBER SERIOUSLY SWITCH SIDES OMG SHES AN AUTOBOT NOW

WHAT BEE CAN FLY!?!?!? WHAT!!!

LMAO LOCKDOWN NICE BOARDER PATROLLING

Well it took all of 30 seconds to confirm my theory lmao man I frickin love this show

Man I can’t believe how quickly they beat the Quintessons, I REALLY THOUGHT THE AUTOBOTS AND DECEPTICONS UNITING AGAINST THEM WOULD BE THE BIG SEASON FINALE I’m thrown for a loop now lol

ew those colors remind me of Sentinel Prime I hope that’s not him

OH WAIT IS THAT IACONUS MY BAD

PRIMA???? OH?????

Grand Imperium?????

Omg did Rack’nRuin switch sides too? I thought they were Decepticons

JETFIRE COME ON BUD OPTIMUS IS TRYING TO HAVE HIS MOMENT

Croaton city!!!

LMAO SKYBITE’S SHARING HIS POETRY....CUTE...

But where is Soundwave!!!!!

I’m with you Bee, those insects are creepy

WOW ASTROTRAIN IS HUGE

“And WHO rescued you from that tyrant” OH??? ANOTHER UNIVERSE’S MEGATRON MAYHAPS???

“I must know if the barrier holds!” OH!!!! Oh no is the final battle gonna be against all the other universe’s people who Megatron burned as he gallivanted through the multiverse??? I SURE HOPE SO

Gosh not to be predictable but that new armor looks so frickin good on Megatron

OPTIMUS IS SO STRONG

POOR OPTIMUS....

“During wartime, decision-making came so easily” MAN....THAT HURTS.....

oh he’s looking for Windblade!!!

AW SHADOW STRIKER C’MON, I THOUGHT YOU GUYS WERE BUDS NOW

“I know better than ANYONE what it’s like to be left broken on the battlefield. I did what I could” MY HEART JUST SWELLED THREE SIZES FOR SHADOW STRIKER....I LOVE HER....(ALSO THAT HURT)

Bee it REALLY seems like you should’ve had a plan / backup team for this!!!

BEE YOU’RE GONNA RESTART THE WAR!!

RODIMUS!!! YOU’RE BACK TO YOUR RED FLAME SELF!!!

WHIRL!!! OMG MY BABY

Wow that wall does a crummy job of keeping out fliers

SOMEONE PLEASE CATCH WINDBLADE

Thank you Whirl

OH JEEZ HERE COMES MEGATRON

SKYWARP!!! (I say while being super scared for my faves)

Whoa Megatron actually backed down

Nice

CHROMIA!!!! SAVE HER PLEASE

Episode 19

Ohhh are we gonna get to see Caminus??????

BEAST MACHINES?????

omg they’re gonna have to collect Windblade’s mind like they collected Bee’s memories

Chromia that doesn’t sound too convincing (you’re super cute though so I forgive you)

MORE BIRDIES!!!

A CYBER HORSE????

IT”S A JET!?!??!

OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH IT”S CRYSTAL CITY!!!!!!

AGAIN, I WANNA SHAKE HANDS WITH EVERY BACKGROUND DESIGNER WHO WORKED ON THIS SHOW

OHHH mirror selves!!! Scary but pretty!!

OH MY GOSH!!! IS THAT RAVAGE!?!?!?!?

PLEASE LET ME SEE MY LITTLE BOY!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHH

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE BE RAVAGE

HOLY FRICK THAT LOOKED AWESOME??? KNIGHT??? A REALLY COOL KNIGHT???? WHO ARE YOU

Thunderhow??

My first thought was “Someone got their Warriors Cat oc into Transformers” and that cracked me up

KNIGHT OF THE PRIMES???

THIS STAINED-GLASS STYLE ANIMATION IS GORGEOUS

I like this dude but something tells me they’re gonna have to fight / kill him later

Bee’s smile is so cute!!

lmao nice lore-speak Chromia

They should just blast through the walls of the maze

“That sounds like a nightmare” “Scrap that!” THEYRE SO CUTE omg way to break the rules you two

CRYSTAL WINDBLADE!!!!

oh shoot many crystal windblades

I love the little “tink tink tink” sounds her feet make

Just her arm???? Jeez louise are the rest of the episodes gonna be about collecting Windblade?

Oh it’s Thunderhound

Optimus is just like “PLEASE leave me alone”

Petition for Optimus Prime to just get a frickin vacation

Episode 20

Man I’m so sad this series is almost over

Everyone in Mac’s bar without Mac..... :( Cute to see Percy as the bartender though

IS...IS THAT WHEELJACK?

OMG WAIT THAT”S THE COSMIC RUST WHEELJACK BACK FROM LIKE EP 2 or 3 IN SEASON 1????

“The Past” I FRICKIN KNEW WE’D SEE YOU AGAIN!!! IT WAS TOO WEIRD HAVING HIM WANDER AROUND IN AN EPISODE WITH NO EXPLANATION LIKE THAT

COWBOY WHEELJACK IS SO GOOD

Man Cyberverse is so frickin weird, I love this cartoon

Oh there’s my boy Soundwave

JEEZ THIS DUDE’S GOT NO FEAR

Megatron looks so cute...

“This is Autobot territory! You can’t--oh guess you can” pfft

I can’t believe Transformers is a western now

Optimus is the sheriff around these parts lol

Aw man Optimus JUST put that thing in there

OPTIMUS IS SO STRONG....I LOVE MY BUFF BOY

WILDWHEEL? Oh my bad, guess that’s not Wheeljack

“No one ever tried to find me” :(((( I wonder how many other bots felt that way

“I was one of the good guys! But you left me on that planet!” OW....

Pretty terrible shot Wild Wheel

OH NO....Innocent civilian got hurt, now Optimus is serious

Wild Wheel Optimus has been through a WAR your cowboy training aint gonna cut it

WELL THAT WAS A. WEIRD EPISODE. ALRIGHTY THEN I can’t wait to see how Wild Wheel is going to pop up in future episodes

Me: haha evil cowboy robot Wild Wheel: I felt abandoned because no one searched for me and I was forced to do horrible things in order to find my way home Me, tears streaming down my face: Haha....cowboy robot

#i talk #Cyberverse spoiler /#I'm watching Cyberverse #primordial robot hell

7 notes · View notes

avelera · 5 years

Note

Well...I do have an angst idea for Newmann. It's really great that the precursors are gone now and the world is safe and he's working to get his life back and he's very happy about that! But somehow after ten years with the collective, even though it was horrible, Newt's finding himself lonely in his own head.

OK so it’s like…. waaaaaay less angsty than I think you meant but I just couldn’t do it without there being some kind of positive ending. That said, THANK YOU for such a fascinating prompt!

–

Newt snuffled awake at a hand on his shoulder, and only then realized he hadn’t really been “asleep”, just sitting on the couch, staring at a black television screen. Again. Dammit.

“Newton?” Hermann’s voice was soft, concerned. Which, double-dammit, meant he’d figured out what was going.

Newt was usually better at hiding the episodes. By his calculation, Hermann had only caught a few of them over the last year. There’d been over five times that number. At least once a month he’d catch himself doing it again, and when he felt the vagueness coming on, the sort of blankess combined with a nameless swell of dread in the pit of his stomach he tried to go somewhere a little more plausibly deniable than sitting up on the goddamn couch. Like the bed, lying on his back with his eyes closed like he’d gone for a midday nap, or hunched over at his desk staring at some random email without seeing it.

This episode had caught him by surprise.

“Hey, sorry bud, did you say something?” Newt said. His voice was muzzy and he dragged his hands over his face to try to add the whole charade, make it look like he’d fallen asleep. Sitting up. With his eyes open.

Hermann grimaced and Newt didn’t need to hear what he was thinking to recognize that tight expression of exasperation mixed with fear for him. But god, it would have been amazing to hear what Hermann was thinking just then.

Because that was the problem: the silence in his head.

“Dare I ask this time what is going on, or am I going to need to stumble upon you frothing at the mouth from a stroke or, heaven forbid, frozen in the middle of traffic before you finally talk to me?” Hermann said and there’s was a grate of irritation in his voice. The hand on Newt’s shoulder tightening compulsively.

“Can I get a raincheck on that one?” Newt quipped, or tried to, if only his voice hadn’t cracked mid-word.

“Newton.”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Newt huffed and threw his hands in the air.

“If not me then a therapist then!”

“I don’t…” Newt snarled to himself and twisted to look up at Hermann. “I mean…” He gestured towards the air. “I don’t want to talk…about it. Do you get it? I don’t… I’m so fucking sick of talking to you!”

“Well, that would be a first,” Hermann said dryly. He didn’t even look hurt. Fuck. Maybe Newt should given Hermann credit for having a thicker skin than him. Hermann only raised an eyebrow. It was infuriating. And just like that, Newt could feel the words building up behind his teeth just breaking free, which was probably exactly what Hermann intended, the bastard.

“I never had to talk to them! They were just in my head,” Newt exploded. “And you, you were in my head, and then you weren’t and I… what’s the point of talking, huh? It’s so fucking messy and imprecise and fucking… unscientific. We can do so much better than talking, we’ve got the Drift! Just fucking… download this shit into our heads, no more peer review, no more meetings, nor more fucking small talk. We’ve got the technology, why the fuck are we all still stuck in our own heads, why are we still in the goddamn dark ages with all this silence?”

Hermann’s lips thinned and he contemplated this. Newt found himself leaning forward, hungrily, despite himself. No one got it, no one understood what it was like after the Precursors, but at least sometimes Hermann would surprise him with some little gem, some insight that cut right through the tangle of bullshit and PTSD and fear when Newt got too wrapped up inside his own head.

“Did you know…” Hermann began, and paused as if considering his words, “… that you sometimes slip into an Eaton accent when you’re complaining?”

“What?” Newt gaped and barked a laugh despite himself. “The fuck does that have to do with anything? And fuck you, I’m not complaining!” Hermann’s other eyebrow rose. “I’m not!”

Hermann held the look for a moment, then sighed and took the seat on the couch beside Newt, and placed his hand as if unconsciously on Newt’s knee. “It has to do with the fact there’s still remnants of our Drift that are still there, even after all these years. I myself am still hopelessly stuck drinking that disgusting black coffee that was your preference, even now that you’ve switched to tea.”

Newt grimaced and looked away, ignoring the little swell of warmth in his chest at the thought that he carried those bits of Hermann around with him still, like mementos, and that bits of him were irritating Hermann to this day. But it wasn’t enough. “Yeah, well…”

“Do you miss them?”

There was no clarification needed on them. The Precursors. The assholes who had kept him a prisoner inside his own head for ten fucking years. “No!” Newt spat. Then hesitated. “Yes. Maybe? Fuck I…” He wiped a hand over his eyes, was a little surprised they weren’t damp. He’d always cried easily. Huh. Maybe that alone was progress, that he didn’t fall apart into a sobbing mess anymore when shit got real and they came up.

“It’s just so fucking quiet, y’know? Sometimes I just… I can’t believe they’re not there, telling me what to do next. And I… I don’t know what to do. Simple shit like go take a shower, shine your shoes, eat something…I got so used to them telling me and… and if I did something they didn’t like it… it got bad, ok? I’m not gonna elaborate, you don’t need to know that shit, but sometimes it was just safer to wait until they told me to do something. And sometimes, now… when it’s quiet and I’m just, fuck, just going about my day it’ll just get quieter and quieter and this… this fear just comes out of nowhere, y’know? Like, ‘did they tell me to do something? Did I forget?’ And there’s just this… this fucking dread like, fuck, I need to time out for a second, just sit here until they tell me what to…what to do.” His jaw clenched and he stole a look at Hermann, terrified he might see that sorrow again, or worse, pity. But Hermann’s face was blank. It was his ‘reading’ face when he was just sitting there, taking information in, digesting it. And try as he might, Newt couldn’t see beyond it.

Somehow, that just made it worse.

“You know, Drifting has come a long way since the first war,” Hermann said conversationally and Newt blinked at the apparent non-sequiter as Hermann continued. “In no small part thanks to your innovation. Drifting with the Kaiju fetus, followed by your paper on the subject, allowed enormous leaps in the field. Why should humans be limited to Drifting with only maximum compatibility, when one of our numbers was able to establish contact with an entirely alien species? I confess with you… off, in the private sector, I took it on as something of a side project. The pursuit of lowering the barrier of compatibility necessary between two pilots.”

“Man, the romance novelists must have been so fucking pissed at you after that one,” Newt croaked. The Drift Romance genre was its own goddamn shelf these days.

Hermann smiled thinly. “What I mean is, if you would like to Drift again, perhaps with… with someone else,” and here for the first time, Hermann’s voice faltered, “there… there would be no reason to fear repercussions to your health.”

Newt snorted. “Yeah, right. Who the fuck is going to want to Drift with me? You’d get like… like brain rabies or something, you’d have to be crazy…” He trailed off. There’d been something there, a flicker of desolation on Hermann’s face, quickly swallowed by that mask of good humor. “Unless...do you want to Drift again? ‘Cause that would be nuts man, like literally an insane thing for you to want to do.”

Hermann’s hand tightened on his knee. “God, yes,” Hermann breathed, then caught himself, and looked stricken. “I… that is, I don’t imagine it’s an experience you’re eager to repeat, so I haven’t asked, but it’s really very unusual for.. for Drift partners to only go about it the once. There are negative effects, indeed, I thought for some time that the nightmares were a product, and…”

Newt’s breath left him in a rush and a bunch of thoughts in his head rearranged themselves like free-moving Tetris blocks as Hermann’s nerdy eagerness shivered through that good nurse routine he’d learned to slip into ever since he brought Newt home. Hermann wanted to Drift with him. Hermann wasn’t afraid, like any normal person would be, that some trace of the Precursors was waiting in Newt’s head like a dormant computer virus. Hermann wanted to jump back into the deep end of Newt’s brain and it wasn’t just Newt uselessly, hopelessly pining after those swirls of blue and numbers and shitty childhood loneliness and prissy self importance mixed with aching insecurity that was the inside of Hermann’s head. Pining that sometimes hit him so hard it made him miss, just a little bit, the rush of Alice. Of just not being alone in the silence anymore.

“I still have the blueprints somewhere,” Newt said slowly. “I could probably build another Pons without breaking too many international laws.”

Hermann startled. “Build one? My dear, do you honestly tune out entirely when I talk about my work? I have at least three models sitting idle at the university lab.”

Newt’s eyes widened. “Field trip?” he said, and the devilish grin that spread across Hermann’s face was all the answer he needed.

#newmann #pacific rim #newton geiszler #hermann gottlieb #my writing #Anonymous

44 notes · View notes