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jakesimfromstatefarm · 3 years

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how to fake date your best friend | jake sim

✰ summary: the rules were simple -

pretend to be the boyfriend of you, his best friend who wants the attention of their crush, for a week and a week only

no kissing (bc gross cooties amirite) allowed, unless needed in times of desperate measure

and no matter what, absolutely, most definitely, do not fall in love.

simple, right?

well apparently not. because news flash––jake's already broken one of the rules.

and to give you a hint, it's neither rule 1 or 2.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. members of enha!]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | fakingdating!au, highschool!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers

✰ warnings: cursing, high-schoolers doing dumb highschool things, underage drinking (pls don’t actually do any of this irl), jake being a certified simp, it’s LONG (i’m so sorry), cheesy kithes bc im a sucker for kithes ( ˘ ³˘)♥

✰ wc: a whopping 9.5k

✰ a/n: it’s finally finished :’)))))) it ended up being much longer than i wanted but i had so much fun writing the characters that i got carried away lolol anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy it,,,i got a little unmotivated during the process bc i didn’t know if it was good or not but here it is heh (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

Tuesday, December 8th

Jake Sim lives a simple life.

He likes to think he leads the normal, stereotypical life of a teenage boy. Has decent grades, plays soccer after school, skateboards around the neighborhood, has a best friend who he’s desperately in love with, and has a stable group of friends.

Okay, maybe not so simple, because this boy would physically launch himself to the moon and drill at its surface to collect moon dust for you if you asked him to––despite his deadly fear of combusting in outer space.

But that fear doesn’t even compare to his worst one yet: not having you in his life.

And so, he decided to just repress any and all feelings he’s had for you ever since he discovered them in middle school, when he realized he hated seeing you go to the eighth grade dance with a date––that wasn’t him.

He decided that he wasn’t going to risk losing a life-long friendship over some dumb, teenage boy feelings.

They were probably powered by his testosterone anyways. Yeah, that’s totally it.

He’s totally not in love with you.

So yes, he lives a pretty normal life. Every day is the same as the last, and tomorrow will be the same as today. But he likes it like that––he doesn’t want anything to change.

Especially not now, when he finds himself content with every aspect of his life (okay maybe except for his history grade, god, does he hate history).

So, it catches him off guard when you arrive at the group’s usual lunch table, located outside in your school’s courtyard, looking as excited as ever.

Jake’s the only one at the table so far. The remaining usually showed up late––Heeseung spends his first half of lunch tutoring freshmen for community service hours (but the poor boy has no idea what he’s doing), Sunghoon is probably stuck in line in the cafeteria again (he always forgets to pack his own lunch), and Jay is...well actually, no one ever knows where Jay comes from. He’s a special one.

It catches Jake even more off guard when you skip over any greeting a normal person would give, and start speaking at one hundred words per second.

And that catches us up to the present.

“Y-You want me to what?” Jake’s stuttering as you stare at him with your hopeful eyes from across the lunch table.

Despite the expression planted on your face, which screams your excitement for your “brilliant, amazing, genius, Einstein-could-never” idea (or whatever other words you used to describe it––Jake can’t exactly recall the specific terms you used, they all came out of your mouth too fast), you don’t respond to his question of bafflement. You continue to stare at him, awaiting his response. Jake could compare the look on your face right now to a puppy looking up at its owner, eagerly waiting for a treat. You know, tongue out and all.

He swallows the lump that’s lodged in this throat (is that the sandwich he’s having, or his nerves?) and continues to give you his look of confusion laced with a nervous smile because surely, you’re joking.

You grab what’s left of your sandwich from his hands and take your own bite. Somewhere in between you arriving at the table and now, Jake’s managed to steal the sandwich you brought today. You did make the best chicken sandwiches, in his defense.

“Well? It’s only for the week! And I promise you, after one week, if nothing happens––if he doesn’t make a move or anything––I’ll move on from him like you’ve been telling me to.” Your words are muffled from you savoring your sandwich, or what’s left of it anyways. (Mental note to self: don’t share your lunch with Jake ever again.)

When Jake still doesn’t respond (you’ve truly gotten this poor boy paralyzed), you find it as a sign to continue.

“I think it’s the perfect plan. Plus, if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be like the universe is telling me to finally move on, right?”

Wrong.

Jake has been encouraging you to move on from your crush because well, if we’re being honest here, he selfishly wants you to himself. Even if it wasn’t romantically.

Preferably, he would kill to get to be the one who holds your hand in the hall, call you cheesy pet names, post disgustingly cute couple pics for the ‘gram––but for the sake of potentially ruining his relationship with you, he’ll just have to settle with the role of being your best friend.

(And he’s totally fine with that! Totally. Yup.)

But he didn’t think that you moving on would only be a mere possible outcome (that may not even happen!) from whatever this stunt is you wanna pull.

Said stunt: Pretend to date one another and hope it catches the eye of a certain someone you have your eye on: Park Sunghoon.

Ah yes, Park Sunghoon. The previously mentioned one who’s probably still in line waiting to get his lunch as we speak.

Park Sunghoon, the tall, kind, intelligent, charming young boy that everyone knows. And if anyone didn’t know him, they most definitely knew of him. He wasn’t hard to miss in the halls; everything about him just radiates perfection.

If you plucked a random high-schooler from the halls of this school and interviewed them on the Park Sunghoon, they’d say you’d be lucky enough if the quiet boy so much as sparked a conversation with you, even if it was about what last night’s chemistry homework was.

Well if that were true, then you and the rest of the boys would be considered lottery winners.

How that happened, how the four of you dysfunctional beings earned his friendship, the world may never know. However, Jake is fully convinced that this was the universe’s way of playing a cruel joke on him.

For as long as Jake could remember, it’s always been just the two of you. You and Jake. Jake and you. (With the exception of Heeseung and Jay, of course, who came along in middle school)

In fact, your earliest memory of Jake was when he peed his pants in the kindergarten during nap time. You would know, you had the privilege of sharing a sleeping mat with him that one fateful day and in result...let’s just say the smell didn’t wear off from your clothes until a week later. Five-year-old you didn’t forgive five-year-old Jake for the longest time.

And since then, you’ve been attached by the hip. And Jake liked it like that. Jake didn’t need anyone else in his life (with the exception of Leila) if he had you. He had found his home within you, and he didn’t plan on sharing his space anytime soon.

Nevertheless, the universe had a completely different idea for the two of you.

Sunghoon came into the picture last year, towards the end of the school year. Despite being the new kid, he found his way into your cherished friend group and naturally, the five of you grew as close as friends could be.

That was the problem. Jake wanted to hate Sunghoon, to despise him for being the one that you had heart eyes for, but he couldn’t.

Not only was Sunghoon one of Jake’s closest friends, but he didn’t want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group. After you, the three chaotic boys were the next most important people in Jake’s life.

And so, we have the typical love triangle plot that every coming-of-age movie follows. Of course, this is all unbeknownst to you––you may be intelligent and a people-person, but oh boy can you not see the heart eyes your very own best friend has for you.

“It’ll be easier than you think, really! Look, we can even set boundaries or rules or whatever,” you propose, as if you’re trying to get him to sign a contract.

Rules to a fake relationship? We’re not living in a Netflix romcom, are we?

“Okay rule number 1: it’ll only be for a week and a week only, rule number 2: we don’t have to do anything too couple-ly like...” you pause to wonder for a second.

“Like PDA or anything! You know, unless we really need to convince him,” you casually add. When he responds with radio silence and stares at you with absolute concern painted all over his face, you cough. “Jake, I’m joking.”

Right. Of course. Obviously.

“And of course, just try not to fall in love with me, it’ll be hard, I know,” you send a playful wink his way.

Too late. Turns out it’s not that hard. Jake would know.

Jake continues to stare at you in hesitation. Yeah, you’ve had your fair share of crazy ideas (that Jake always find himself agreeing to––the poor boy just can’t seem to say no to you), but fake dating you?

Jake is sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off without slowly destroying himself. He’d just have to say no, he’s sure you can find someone else to do it for you.

Yes, that’s it, just say no.

Jake has to keep some of his pride in tact.

Jake does not say no.

He doesn’t know what went wrong. His mind said one thing, but his words said another.

To be fair, Jake’s actions have always been influenced by his heart, not his brain, anyways. And when it comes to you, you bet it’ll be coming from his heart.

So here he was now, under the stare of three equally shocked and confused guys across from you and him at the lunch table, your fingers intertwined with his.

Just a few seconds ago, you had spotted the rest of the lunch bunch approaching the table, and you quickly grabbed Jake’s hand and scooted in closer to him.

Now here you were, explaining to your friends of your sudden relationship.

Jake is too zoned out to even physically pick up your explanation. Something along the lines of "we’ve been dating for a while but didn’t want to tell you guys yet." From the feeling of your hand clutched tightly into his and your body right up next to him, his mind was short-circuiting.

How is he supposed to last an entire week of this if he couldn't handle innocent hand holding? Hand holding? God, what are we, back in the fifth grade?

Two minutes into this scheme and Jake's mind has already downgraded itself to a fifth grader's.

Jake mentally scolds himself for giving in, this was not a good idea.

It takes Jake approximately 12 hours to conclude that this stunt of yours may, actually, be a good idea. He knows this because approximately 12 hours after the events surrounding lunch, he receives a text from you:

y/n [12:03AM]: thanks again for doing this for me jake

y/n [12:03AM]: ur actually the best

y/n [12:04AM]: ew ok that was cheesy but really i owe u a big one <333

Following your thread of texts is a really close up photo of you widely smiling into the camera. A smile so big, Jake’s convinced your face was probably in pain after taking that picture.

Anyone else might’ve thought the photo looked borderline insane but because Jake’s Jake, aka a simpᵗᵐ for you, he comes to the conclusion that it’s singlehandedly the cutest thing he’s ever seen in the entire world.

After quickly saving the selfie into his phone, Jake tells himself that maybe this won’t be a bad thing after all. I mean, anything that makes you smile like that meant it has to be a good idea, right?

Spoken like a true simp.

Plus, dating you––fake dating you––is pretty much the same as it was before. He already spends most of his days with you to begin with. Now, it’s just with added displays of affection. For show, obviously. Obviously.

And look, if Jake will never get to actually be with you, then he’ll take what he can get. And if that meant fake dating you, well, he reasons that it’s better than nothing at all.

Wednesday, December 9th

Jake’s playing with the rings on your right hand and you’re in the middle of dramatically telling the lunch table about the infuriating Karen you had to deal with at work the other day when Jay comes up with a grin you all know a little too well.

“Okay that grin means one of two things: you finally grew the balls to ask out that poor girl you’ve been teasing all year or you have something planned that we won’t like,” you interrupt your story when you catch Jay’s sly expression, evoking a chuckle from Jake, who’s now found a new distraction with the bracelets perches on your wrist.

“Excuse you, I’ll have you know that I did ask her out. It just so happens that she’s currently ‘in between boyfriends’ whatever that means. Ouch, by the way,” Jay feigns hurt from your comment by clutching the area above his heart through his shirt. Ever the drama queen. “But yes, I do have something planned. And no, it’s not a bad idea.”

Jay squeezes his way in between Sunghoon and Heeseung from across you and begins to pull out his own lunch. Everyone’s eyes follow him as he settles in because as bad as his unknown idea may be, you’re all still curious on what this boy has to say.

“Well are you going to elaborate or...” Heeseung speaks up for everyone after you all mentally debate one another through darting eyes on who’s going to have to bite Jay’s silent bait.

Jay then forcefully sets both hands on his table, which elicits a little jump from you as you go for a bite of your sandwich. Adorable, Jake tells himself.

“My parents are out of town this weekend. We all know what that means...”

Yes. We do know what that means. The four of you have seen this scenario play out many times, a little too many times for your own good.

This meant one of Jay’s infamous house parties that he always throws whenever his parents go out of town. And because his parents are hot-shot CEOs of an important company whose name you don’t remember (it’s nothing personal, your brain can only handle so much information and this physics exam you were studying for took up 90% of your brain capacity at the moment), they’re out of town often.

And along with Jay’s parties comes chaos. Lots of it. And that’s because...well, it’s safe to say that despite the many school-wide presentations the police officers of your school have held in the auditorium on why you shouldn’t drink underage, Jay’s parents’ liquor cabinet always seems to find itself missing many a few bottles after each party. But we don’t talk about that. Shush.

Almost simultaneously, everyone at the table lets out a groan, much to Jay’s disappointment.

“C’mon guys! It’s been a while since anything’s fun happened to this school, think of all the sad students in that building right now,” he extends a finger whole-ass arm and points at your school, “who are in dire need of fun and a little...” he punctuates his sentence with the hand motion of chugging down a drink, followed with a gulping sound elicited from his tongue clicking.

You roll your eyes along with everyone else. Don’t be like Jay, kids. Listen to those police officers.

“Jay, it’s midterm season! I have an exam on Monday and I definitely do not want to spend the nights before wasted,” you give him an apologetic look. As crazy as Jay is, you do feel bad nonetheless. The boy just wants to have fun.

Your response is followed up with similar comments from around the table.

“I’m helping y/n study”

“I have an important skating performance on Sunday”

“Uh...my hamster died?” (ok Heeseung panicked, don’t blame the guy)

Ignoring that last excuse of an excuse, Jay continues his debate nonetheless. “Just come for the sake of it! No one’s saying you have to get wasted. Pleaseeee for me?”

Jay throws these parties so often, you’re not sure why he’s so set on making sure you’re all going to be there. Well, I guess who wouldn’t want their closest friends to be at their own party?

That and, Jay needs to make sure his friends are there to stop him from doing anything stupid. We all know this boy has had enough embarrassing moments to last him a lifetime.

Everyone at the table gives each other the same hesitant look. Heeseung is the first to give in, “Oh fuck it. Sure, count me in.”

Jay’s fist pumping the air before turning to Sunghoon with the most hopeful eyes.

Sunghoon simply sighs in return. “Alright okay, I’ll bite. But if you vomit on my shoes again, I’m out the door.” Jay’s finger is automatically drawing a cross over his heart as a promise to not ruin Sunghoon’s Nikes again.

He then looks to you with puppy eyes.

You, who's already staring back at Jay with a stoic look in your eyes, are stubborn and (unlike the previous weaklings) are not as easy to convince. And somehow, this began an unannounced staring contest between the two of you, a contest to see who would budge first. This isn't an uncommon occurrence between you and Jay, but the rest of the boys are still on the edges of their seats watching this duel.

Jake casually wraps an arm around your shoulder and you’re brought in close, but still undeterred from your death-stare match with the boy across from you.

If it’s not obvious enough, Jake’s really gotten into his role of being your boyfriend, despite it only being 24 hours since he last froze at your touch. Character development, you’ll give him that.

You almost forget he’s faking it for a quick second. And for an even quicker second, you imagine he wasn’t faking it. And you swear you feel butterflies in your stomach at that thought.

Weird.

You mentally shake the thought out of your head. Priorities first, aka, beating Jay in this staring contest.

“Fuck,” you stutter when you finally blink, admitting defeat to a grinning Jay. “Okay, okay, I’ll THINK about it. I’ll let you know.”

Not exactly the answer Jay was looking for, but he’ll take it. Better than a no.

He turns to Jake next, knowing there’s no way Jake will turn down a party. Just like Jay, the boy loves himself a good party.

But–

But because Jake would take your physics exam this Monday for you if you asked, because Jake would bungee jump in the Grand Canyon without a safety net below him if you asked, because Jake would fake date you to make your crush jealous for you if you asked, he doesn’t hesitate in his answer this time around: “Same as y/n, I’ll let you know.”

Jay looks at Jake. Then back at you, who he’s still clinging onto like a koala to a tree. Then back at Jake. “You two are gross. Admittedly cute. But gross.”

You look up at the boy next to you to see him already grinning at you.

For the first time today, you find yourself agreeing with Jay.

Admittedly cute.

Thursday, December 10th

You are having a bad day.

You’re having the mother of bad days.

Not only is it midterm season, but you still have all your regular weekly assignments to finish before Friday hits. So as a natural-born procrastinator does, you stayed up all last night trying to get a good amount of work done because what’s better than cramming all your work the night before it’s due? Doing it two nights before it’s due.

Well apparently it wasn’t such a good idea. Because now, here you were, frantically throwing on whatever articles of clothing you find nearest to you because you slept through all your alarms.

You’re lucky enough to make it through your school’s doors right as the second bell rings, even if you did look like you just walked straight out of a zombie apocalypse.

You’re not so lucky when you find out your first class of the day, calculus, had a pop quiz. A pop quiz on the only unit you just happened to know absolutely nothing about.

To top things off, you forgot to pack your lunch during this morning’s frenzy, meaning you’re automatically stuck sharing with Jake.

And because his mother started making him pack his own food out of a lesson of responsibility (she said something along the lines of: “Jake, you’re about to be in college and you don’t know how to pack a decent meal”), he only has a plain PB&J sandwich and a pack of Scooby-Doo gummies in his bag today (because newsflash, he still doesn’t know how to pack a decent meal).

Not that you could care less at the moment, you were too preoccupied with catching up on your assignments to even eat. And if any of the boys noticed your zombie-like state during lunch, they did a good job of not mentioning it. They knew better than to bother an irritated y/n.

Somehow, you make it through the entire school day and your after-school meeting for environmental club (save the trees!) in one piece. As you finally walk out of the school building, you exhale, automatically feeling lighter. At least the hard part of your day was done.

Now you just had to wait for Jake to finish soccer practice, which usually ended around the same time as your club, and he can drive you home, where you can continue being irritated with your day in the privacy of your own space.

You wait on the steps of the school’s entrance, waiting for a smiley Jake to come around the corner as he usually does at 5:30pm every Thursdays.

Yes, a smiling Jake is exactly what you needed to make your day ten times better, you conclude.

As if on cue, you hear a ding from your phone.

Jake [5:30PM]: ugh coach is extending practice for “team bonding”

Jake [5:30PM]: idek what team bonding is

Jake [5:31PM]: you ok if i cant drive you today? ://

It’s as if the universe decided to use you as its punching bag today.

You physically let out a distorted groan, not caring if anyone who happened to hear you thought you were a creature from out of this world, as you send him a text back.

y/n [5:32PM]: it’s all good lol have fun with tEaM bOnDiNg

Things were not all good. But no matter how upset you may be, you weren’t going to project your negative vibes onto Jake’s naturally positive ones. So you get up from the stone steps and begin your dreaded walk back home.

It’s freezing out. You should’ve known better to just throw on a hoodie and call it a day when it’s the middle of December. But then again, you figured by now you’d be in the comfort and warmth of Jake’s car and presence...not walking home in these freezing temperatures.

You think about Jake and how he’s probably currently suffering from not only his team bonding exercises (but really though, what are team bonding exercises?), but doing them in this weather as well. The poor boy.

You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car engine from behind you. When you don’t see it pass by you and instead hear it pull over and park next to the curb of the sidewalk you’re currently on, you automatically deduce that this is it, this is my time, I’m about to get kidnapped by whoever it is behind me but y/n, you should probably turn around and check first before you drive yourself insane in this inner dialogue.

You turn around and squint into the front window of the car. If it were a kidnapper, this is exactly what your mother told you not to do. Her exact words were: “Run, don’t look back, and scream bloody murder.”

Good thing it wasn’t. Just an innocent Sunghoon waving his hand at you, motioning you to get in.

“Sunghoon?” You approach his car and stop at the passenger side’s open window.

“y/n! It’s freezing out, I’ll drive you home c’mon,” he nods his head towards the passenger side door.

Well, how could you say no? Sunghoon owns a nice car. Like a nice car. Like car-seat-heaters-that-make-you-feel-like-you’re-physically-melting nice. Beats getting hypothermia outside, right?

“Why are you going home from school so late?” You ask as you settle into his car, instantly melting at the touch of the aforementioned heated seats.

“Debate club, actually. Decided I needed another personality trait other than ice skating,” he starts the engine and begins driving towards the direction of your neighborhood.

You laugh at his comment, you didn’t peg him as a debate kind of student. Quiet Sunghoon? Debate club? If 2 plus 2 is four...

“Hey, I don’t call you the Ice Prince for nothing! Also, don’t forget your other personality trait: forgetting your lunch every day.”

Sunghoon quickly glances over at you to send you a dirty look (because eyes on the road, kids!), which you return with a cheeky grin. “Need I remind you that was you today?”

“Touché,” you click your tongue.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the faint sound of Sunghoon's music in the background filling in the quietness.

You’re humming along until Sunghoon breaks the silence, “Did Jake get stuck at practice again?”

You don’t know why, but you swear you feel your heart beat faster at the mention of Jake’s name. No, that was always there right? Because you were with Sunghoon...your crush..obviously. Obviously.

Ignoring the feeling, you turn your attention towards the boy driving you.

“Oh yeah, something about team bonding. How’d you know?”

“Eh, I just figured since he wasn’t driving you home like he always does.” He turns into your neighborhood.

You nod at his answer.

“You two make a good couple.”

You whip your head at him. Did you hear him correctly?

“It was about time, really. You two have been ogling at one another for so long, Heeseung, Jay, and I almost placed bets on who would be the first to make a move.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, casually going on about how you and Jake make the cutest couple he’s ever seen.

You're frozen, unsure of what to think, let alone say.

You think to two days ago, when you started this entire fake relationship because of the very boy driving you home right now. The same boy who's complimenting you on your fake relationship. The same boy who's supposed to be jealous over that said relationship. The same boy you’re supposed to be crushing over.

But now...only a mere 48 hours later, you were finding yourself okay with the fact that he was happy for you. And for the life of you, you couldn’t remember why you liked Sunghoon in the first place. Not saying he isn’t one to be crushed on, I mean, look at the guy.

Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that you didn't feel nervous or giddy or..anything at all when you got into the car with Sunghoon. At least, not until Jake's name was mentioned. That's when you felt the butterflies. At the mention of Jake.

Jake.

Weird.

But before you can come to a conclusion on why you're feeling the way you do, Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts.

"Well, we're here! Say hi to your parents for me," he pulls into your driveway as you're still collecting your thoughts.

You give him a quick thanks and one last wave as you enter the front doors of your house.

Seeing that your only solution towards confusing feelings meant distracting yourself, distract yourself you did.

Even if it meant distracting yourself with your piling assignments.

The next time you look up from your work, it's suddenly way past sundown and a heavy storm has taken over. You’re surprised it hasn’t started flooding yet with the amount of rainfall you were hearing.

You check the time on your phone, the bright 8:16PM on the screen illuminating your dimly lit room. Seeing that neither of your parents have yet to be home from work, it looks like you were going to have to settle with some instant ramen for dinner tonight.

As you trudge down the stairs of your home, the sound of light knocking against the front door catches your attention. It's been a long day y/n, you're probably hearing things, it's definitely just the rain.

Nope. There it is again, but much louder. Much more urgent.

You contemplate any and all potential disasters that could happen from answering the door. Only a crazy person would be willing to go out in this hurricane-like weather to be frantically knocking on your door.

And so, you assume it has to be some psychopath trying to get into your house. Yes, there’s definitely no other logical explanation.

You scramble around your living room, looking for the next best weapon to defend you. Resorting to the flower vase your mother keeps on the table next to the front door, you hold it out in front of you, as if you're waiting for the door to burst open.

The knocking continues, gradually getting louder. You mentally curse at yourself for dropping out of the taekwondo class your dad signed you up for when you were younger.

Vase in hand, you swing open the door and brace for–

"Jake? What the fuck? Get in here, you're gonna get sick!"

You’re suddenly aware of how stupid you look, holding a light pink vase with a couple of orchids as your only form of self-defense...for it to only be your own best friend. You immediately put it back on the table as Jake quickly rushes past you and into your humble abode.

You close the door behind you and turn to face the soaked boy.

“I come bearing gifts, also known as take-out and hot chocolate from that one cafe you love. Also my company, if you’ll take it. I had a feeling you weren’t having the best day today,” he’s simply standing there, holding up a large brown paper bag in one hand, and a deliciously smelling cup of hot chocolate in the other, but you’re looking at him as if he bought you the Moon.

You stare in awe at the angel of a boy in front of you, silently thanking the stars for gifting you this amazing human being as your best friend. You don’t know what you did to deserve him.

You give him a soft smile. “Jake, you didn’t have to. It’s practically a shitstorm out there,” you cock your head towards the window, showcasing the downpour of cats and dogs outside. Jake stays by the entrance as you go down the hall and through your house’s linen closet to find a spare towel for the drenched boy.

“Nah it’s no big deal, really. Just fulfilling my duties as your loyal boyfriend,” he grins, even though you can’t see him. He likes calling himself that. Your boyfriend.

Jake continues to shake his messy hair to get the excess rain off, giving a mental apology to whoever is going to have to mop up the puddle forming on the floor due to his unannounced visit. Probably you.

Jake hears you laugh down the hall. “You’re really invested in your role, huh? Keep this up and you might actually trick me into believing you’re my actual boyfriend.”

Actual boyfriend? Jake likes the sound of that. Maybe he will keep this up then.

Jake doesn’t have much experience in acting, unless you count that time he played the role of Town Villager #3 in the third grade play, so he never found it as one of his interests. But playing the role of your boyfriend was one he was willing to fulfill for the rest of life, even if it was just for show.

Jake doesn’t respond to your comment, he’s instead self-aware of his blushing cheeks, thankful that you’re too busy rummaging through your linen closet to take notice.

“Plus, you didn’t have lunch today and I had feeling you were going to be too caught up in your work to feed yourself anything other than instant ramen,” he sets down his gifts to you on your living room’s coffee table as you come around the corner, fresh towel and new set of clothes in hand.

His eyes fall on the familiar looking pair of sweatpants and hoodie resting on the palms of your hands.

Hm. A little too familiar.

Then, it clicks in his head.

His eyes narrow at you as you giggle at his reaction, “Oh, so it takes me getting drenched in the rain for you to finally return my clothes that I’ve been missing!?”

“Hey! I’m not returning them, simply loaning them out to a friend who’s in dire need. You basically gifted them to me the second you left them here months ago.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Love you too,” you toss the clothes at him and take a seat on the floor around your coffee table, prepping the table with the boxes of Chinese food Jake supplied.

After Jake changes into the stolen dry clothes, he takes a seat next to an already-eating you at the coffee table.

“You. are. my lord and savior Sim Jaeyun,” you’re saying with your mouth full of fried rice. You sigh from satisfaction and rest your head against Jake’s shoulder as you continue chewing. He grins as he helps himself to his own serving of fried rice and orange chicken.

You look up at him from your spot, “How was team bonding today?”

Jake groans in response, clearly annoyed. “Stupid. I don’t get how doing trust falls and pyramid building is going to get us any closer. If anything, I almost FELL off that pyramid today!”

You don’t know why, but you find yourself admiring him and his soft features as he continues to rant about one of his teammates, specifically, the one who almost dropped him.

The way his messy hair, unkept from the rain ruining it, almost covers his eyes (but you tell yourself you like it this way, it looks more natural on him), the way the corners of his lips are always perked upwards (even when he’s ranting), the way his eyes sparkle whenever he’s truly passionate about whatever he’s talking about, the way his eyes look at you like–

“Stare much? Look, I get you can’t resist my good looks but at least be subtle about it,” he smirks at you as he takes another spoon of rice.

You break out of his trance and scoff at him.

“You’re cute when you rant,” you nonchalantly say as you move from your spot to mirror his actions and add more rice to your plate as well. Jake’s stills at your sudden comment, unsure of how to respond. Lucky for him, you’re distracted by the mountain of food on your plate to even notice the blushing mess of a boy next to you.

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute. Or else I’d deck you right here and now for ditching me after school today.”

Anddd there goes the moment. Leave it to you to follow up a compliment with a threat of violence.

Jake finds it cute anyways. He always finds you cute.

Jake narrows his eyes and lightly shoves you before an apology is written all over his face. “Sorry about that by the way. I feel awful about making you walk home when it was freezing out.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Sunghoon gave me a ride, actually. Did you know he does debate? I guess you learn something new everyday,” you ramble, unaware of the boy next to you getting tense at the sudden mention of the other’s name.

Up until now, Jake’s completely forgotten about Sunghoon's involvement in this entire scheme. In fact, the past 48 hours with you have felt so normal, so comfortable, he almost forgot about the deal in the first place. “You think he has any clue?” Jake suddenly asks, referring to the plan.

You immediately know what he’s referring to, as Jake practically worded out your very own thoughts.

You shrug. “Not a single one. We’re practically William and Kate in his eyes. But honestly, that’s the least of my worries right now. I’m too distracted by my exams right now to care.”

Jake feels guilty for being satisfied with your answer. He’s 100% sure that if convincing Sunghoon took you two an entire lifetime of fake dating, he’d be all too willing to do it.

“Go to Jay’s party with me tomorrow,” he abruptly says, catching your attention as your mouth is stuffed. Cute.

He pokes your cheek. “It’ll get your mind off of work and plus, what’s more convincing than showing up to a party with your amazing boyfriend?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jake doesn’t know where he gets his sudden surge of confidence. But he does know he loves calling himself your boyfriend...even if it’s for the time being.

Rolling your eyes and swatting his poking fingers away from your face, you ponder on his suggestion.

“You mean my annoying boyfriend,” you stick your tongue out at him. Jake takes a mental picture and hopes it never leaves his mind.

“But I guess you could be right. Maybe I can clear my head for the night before I study my ass off all weekend.”

Friday, December 11th

The party does not clear your mind.

If anything, it gives you enough headaches to last you at least until the end of high-school.

You come to this revelation as you and Jake approach Jay’s home, a luxurious mansion sitting at the end of a cul-de-sac, lined with similarly luxurious palaces, located in an equally luxurious neighborhood.

You come to this revelation when you can already feel the pounding bass of music as you walk up Jay’s driveway.

You come to this revelation when, not even two seconds after entering Jay’s front doors––

“You’re here!” A buzzed Jay shouts at the two of you, causing the both of you to contemplate your past choices that brought you here today. Jay definitely isn’t straight up drunk yet, but Jake still makes a mental note to keep an eye on him tonight. Just in case.

The blonde-haired boy is quick to hand over two red solo cups of god knows what, to which you and Jake immediately put down on the nearest table after Jay walks away to greet the next incoming guests (you know, to not hurt his feelings).

You and Jake are lucky enough to have been around Jay and his parties long enough to know that going all out at these parties will not be pretty the next morning.

You cringe at the memory of last year, when you had to suffer from possibly the worst hangover of all hangovers after one of Jay’s parties. Jake will never let you forget how miserable you looked the next morning. His camera roll’s album titled “y/n blackmail pics” can vouch for that.

“Remind me again to never listen to you,” you almost have to shout at Jake over the thumping music. Jake laughs at your comment and tugs at your hand as he begins entering the house.

The two of you do your rounds of greetings to the people you know...and random underclassmen who you swear you have never seen before but somehow made it to this party. You’ve always questioned how Jay’s invite list worked. Maybe there isn’t one. That would explain how it looked like someone announced Jay was giving out free Teslas and the entire school got hold of the news.

“Thank god you guys are here,” you hear a voice come from behind the two of you as you guys leave the main room to enter the house’s smaller, but just as luxurious looking, den. You turn to see Heeseung with Sunghoon following closely behind, trying his best not to get swept away in the crowd of people.

The den is where you usually stayed during these parties. It’s not like there are rules of where people are allowed to party, by any means, but it’s like how a high-school’s cafeteria worked. There’s a mutual silent agreement of where everyone goes, and the den is where the party host and his friends went.

“Okay, is it just me, or is tonight’s party just a little...too..much?” Sunghoon asks as the four of you take your seats on the main couch of the room. Jake’s quick to make space for you next to him as you go to sit, but to his surprise, you find your home right on his lap.

“You said be convincing right?” you say into his ear as you settle yourself. Right. That’s totally why. Because you had to go along with the ruse. Obviously.

You shift a bit so you’re more facing sideways, not blocking off Jake’s line of vision as the boy himself is..well, calling him a rag doll might be excessive.

But he’s sure he looks like one right now, having lost all senses in his limbs, leaving him frozen underneath you.

Jake Sim is the epitome of politeness. He was raised in a family that taught him how to respectfully greet others, how to always offer food to others before eating it himself, how to properly treat a significant other. As a result, Jake grew up to be one of the sweetest, kindest, purest people to ever walk this earth.

(Relatively speaking, the earth is large, but so is Jake’s heart.)

But human-beings aren’t perfect, they must have a balance. A balance of pros and cons.

Sure, he can’t pack his own lunch and sometimes forgets to water the little succulent you gifted him that’s currently seated on his window sill. Sure, sometimes he’s too sweet for his own good, you know, like willing-to-be-your-fake-boyfriend too sweet. But aside from the minor details, Jake Sim doesn’t have many cons, no.

But he sure can be awkward.

And so because Jake Sim is sweet, kind, pure, and awkward, he is unsure of what to do with himself when you’re seated right on top of him.

As if you could read his befuddled mind, you take his arm that’s resting behind you to wrap around your waist as your support as you throw one of your arms around his shoulder. And throughout this entire adjustment, his widened eyes are staring right at you.

Bless this pure, pure boy.

Also bless the position you’re in, blocking the two other boys from directly seeing Jake’s face. Because if they were to catch glimpse of Jake’s expression right now, your cover might be blown, just like that. You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon are distracted by another classmate who came up to them.

“Relax,” you sweetly laugh, cupping his chin with your free hand and lightly squeezing his cheeks. “You’re so adorably awkward.”

Jake pouts at you. “I am not awkward!”

“Right, and I’m totally dating you for real,” you playfully whisper at him, eliciting a poke at your waist in response.

Twenty minutes of people-watching-aka-“who do you think is gonna pass out first?”-from-your-spot-on-the-couch later, the four of you draw your attention to the rowdy party host you all have the honor of calling your friend––aka Jay––dancing (that is, if you call wildly swinging your limbs in all four directions dancing) in the middle of the den.

"Oh god, look at him," Sunghoon voices from besides you.

Heeseung's already filming the moment on his phone. Ah yes, technology. The best thing to ever happen to drunk teens' friends.

"He's so wasted," you throw your head back as you let out a laugh. “We should help the kid out.”

Poor Jay. He's not gonna hear the end of it after tonight.

"I don't know why he thinks these parties are such a good idea when he knows how trashed he's gonna be when he wakes up," Jake says, his hand naturally squeezing your waist as you giggle at his comment. "And how trashed the house will be."

Jay slumbers over to where the four of you are seated, and abruptly stops right in front of the couch.

"My best friends!" Jay happily cheers. “Having fun?”

“Watching you? Always,” you say to the boy who’s squeezing into a seat between you and Sunghoon, as if the small couch wasn’t already suffocating enough (and that’s with you on Jake’s lap).

“But for real though, you should probably lay off the drinks for now,” Heeseung insists. “For all our sakes.”

Sunghoon nods along and grabs the cup Jay’s currently nursing and sets it down where it’s out of Jay’s reach, much to his dismay. But the disappointment quickly leaves the dazed boy’s head, as his attention is now directed towards you and Jake.

“Well if it isn’t mom and dad,” Jay turns to face you and Jake, certainly amused by your seating arrangement.

“You know–” Jay points a finger at the two of you. “For a couple that’s certainly close, I haven’t seen you two kiss.”

Jake is immediately coughing, certainly not expecting that to come out of his friend’s mouth.

“Okay and your point is?” Jake frowns at Jay. If Jay wasn’t tipsy, Jake would’ve smacked the back of his head by now.

“I’m just saying...” the blonde responds, both hands up in the air as if Jake is accusing him of something, when in was, in fact, the opposite. “But nevermind, Jakey boy here is probably too innocent for such nonsense anyways.”

Yes, it’s confirmed. Once Jay sobers up tomorrow, Jake is driving over to his house (even though it’s a good ten minute drive from his own) just to smack him.

“What do you mean I’m too–”

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence. In fact, Jake doesn’t even remember what he was going to say.

Jake doesn’t think nor feel anything else other than your lips planted on his.

You’re pulling him in close, your hands cupping his face as his own are twitching on your waist, his mind flustered. You move your hands from his face to his neck, to which Jake immediately relaxes at.

Sure, you two are in the middle of a dumb high-school party, one filled with pounding music and shouting teenagers, but right now, in this moment, Jake can only feel you. And he doesn’t want the feeling to ever stop.

When you part, Jake’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, his own parted in shock. He thinks he might pass out right here and now. He thinks his heart might explode right here and now. He thinks he might lov-

“Happy?” you turn to a satisfied Jay, ignoring the looks of amusement from Heesung and Sunghoon besides him.

“Well,” you pat Jake’s leg as you get up from your spot. “I’m gonna get us some drinks. Punch only, of course.”

Jake’s eyes are on you as you walk away, his face tinted pink from the adrenaline of it all, his heart racing.

Jake thinks back to three days ago, when he told himself that this idea of yours was going to be all fine. After all, it was only going to be for one week. Afterwards, he can move on with his life as if nothing happened.

But fast forward 72 hours later, 72 hours after you and Jake started this act, 72 hours after Jake told himself it’ll be all fine, Jake knows he was poorly mistaken.

Because 72 hours later, in the middle of a party that reeked of the combined smell of alcohol and sweat, Jake knows one thing and one thing for sure.

He never wants to move on from the feeling of being with you. He never wants to move on from this.

From you.

He’s screwed.

Saturday, December 12th

When Jake wakes up, much later than he intended to, on Saturday morning, the first sensation he feels are his tingling lips, still in disbelief that they graced your own last night.

The second sensation being his pounding mind––it’s running through ten million thoughts at a time, telling him no last night wasn’t a dream.

Third: his heart beating so fast at the thought of you, he thinks he might beat out of his chest.

And fourth, a buzzing noise.

Jake blindly flounders his arm to the table beside him in hopes of finding the origin of the annoying sound, aka, his phone.

After knocking down multiple miscellaneous items on his nightstand (he makes a mental note to clean his room later), he successfully retrieves the item of search.

Jake squints at the bright screen, mind still cloudy from a mix of 1) being half-asleep, and 2) still processing what happened the night before.

y/n [11:10AM]: r u awake yet?

y/n [11:22AM]: imma take that as a no

y/n [11:35AM]: lemme know when ur up

jake [11:44AM]: just woke up sorry

jake [11:44AM]: are you okay? what’s up

y/n [11:45AM]: r u busy?

y/n [11:45AM]: kinda wanted to talk abt smth

jake [11:45AM]: uh well no im still in bed lmao

y/n [11:46AM]: cool im outside your door

Jake’s eyes widen as he processes your last few texts.

Talk? Outside his door?

Jake’s heart is nervously pounding as jumps out of bed and quickly puts on the first plaid flannel he finds. He scrambles to his mirror and gives his reflection a quick run-down.

He’s sporting your his favorite hoodie underneath the flannel that’s long overdue a wash and his tousled hair has seen better days, but he couldn't care less.

Before his mind can catch up to his actions, he’s rushing down the stairs, skipping two at a time and to this front door. Because he didn’t want to keep you waiting? Because he was too excited to see you? Maybe a mix of both. Definitely more of the latter, however.

He quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to fix it up as much as he can, to no avail, before opening the door to reveal you, sitting on the steps of his front porch.

“y/n,” he’s breathing heavily as you turn to greet him with your sweet smile he didn’t even realize he was missing. Is it possible to miss someone overnight? Jake concludes yes, it definitely is.

“Did you run down here or something?,” you question his out-of-breath state, a teasing tone laces the tip of your tongue.

“Or something,” Jake mutters as he closes the front door behind him to join you on the steps when you make no sign of moving. “Have you been out here all morning?”

“Not allll morning. I had a feeling you’d sleep in so I came around the time I first texted you. Would’ve knocked but didn’t wanna bother your family,” you hum, keeping your eyes trained on the peaceful scenery around you.

You’ve always loved Jake’s neighborhood, it brought you a sense of peace, a sense of home.

Or was that because it reminded you of Jake?

“You could never be a bother,” he quickly rebuttals as he takes his seat next to you on the steps.

You respond with a soft smile before turning your attention back to anything other than the boy next to you. Your mind seems to be lost in its own thoughts, Jake can tell by the distant look in your eyes.

The sound of birds chirping in the distance fills the silence that falls between the two of you.

Any other day, Jake would love this. He savors every second he’s with you, even if it’s just pure silence.

But this silence was different. It wasn’t the usual comforting, warm silence that the two of you share on a typical day. This one held tension, tension so thick that Jake doesn’t know where to begin thinking.

But here’s the thing. Jake doesn’t think.

Not when it comes to you.

He takes a deep breath. Rubs his hands together. Pats them on his lap. Turns towards you.

“Look, I-”

“I think I might like you.” The words come out of your mouth so fast, Jake’s positive he heard you wrong the first time around.

He whips his head to meet your eyes, your own already staring back at him, your bottom lip nervously tucked under your teeth.

“No, I––I do. I know I do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you and I don’t think I’m doing a very good job right now,” the words are all of the sudden tumbling out of your mouth as if your brain flipped a switch and isn’t able to turn it off. “In hindsight, I should’ve known better to fake date my own best friend. But these past few days made me realize how much I love being with you. And not like how I’m always with you 24/7 before this entire thing started, but being with you. I even started getting that weird, bubbly feeling in my stomach every time I so much as heard your name. And then last night at the party, I realized afterwards that I wouldn’t have kissed you if some part of me didn’t see you in that way. Even if it meant Jay would’ve been on our asses all night if I didn’t. So yeah.”

You finish with a deep breath and look up at him to meet his widened eyes. Silence.

Jake thought he was braindead during last week’s history quiz. Jake thought he was braindead when he had to cram a semester’s worth of chemistry content the night before his exam. Heck, Jake thought he was braindead when you first told him about your idea of a fake dating him. But no, this is braindead.

He’s finally hearing what he’s been dreaming of for so long, and of all times, now his brain decides to shut off.

“Are you..uh..are you gonna say anything?” You’re nervously fumbling with your hands, desperate to distract yourself with anything else apart from his silent stare.

"Why are you sorry?" Jake says before his mind can think of anything else. He doesn't pay attention to his thumping heart that's one look-from-you away from exploding right then and there. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, you took the words right out of my mouth.”

Now you're staring at him with the wide eyes, the words processing in your mind.

Jake realizes he's waited too long to do this. A few years too long. He also realizes he shouldn't have put on that extra layer of a flannel. The nervous tension created by the two of you was suffocating enough, and being outside under the bright sun didn’t help.

"I like you too. God y/n, I like you too so much," Jake doesn't even care if his words are all sorts of messed up right now. He just needs you to get the idea. "I have for a while now.”

You let out a relieved sigh, ecstasy rushing through your blood. “Really? I think I have for a while too. I’m so stupid, it took me so long to realize it. It didn’t hit me until I realized how I felt around you, compared to the guy I’m supposed to actually have a crush on.”

Jake lets out a laugh, the tension immediately dissolving. “Hey, if it wasn’t for Sunghoon, I don’t think we’d be here right now.”

“You’re right, I’m too oblivious and you’re too awkward to actually make a move,” you wink at him. If his heart wasn’t fluttering at the sight of you, on his porch on a Saturday morning, confessing your feelings to him, Jake probably would’ve lightly shoved you away.

Instead, he’s turning to you with the most endeared look on his face, and you’re blushing underneath his gaze.

“What? Stare much?” You giggle, quoting the boy himself as you shyly duck your head to avoid his stare.

Jake gently grabs your chin to tilt your face towards his, and before you can process what’s happening, he suddenly meets your lips with his own, closing the gap between you two.

Jake thinks if the ground underneath him right now decided to open up and swallow him whole, he’d die happily.

Jake smiles against you, feeling comfort in ways he’ll never be able to achieve without you.

Your hands instinctively find their way into his hair, as one of his rests below your ear, thumb softly caressing your cheek, the other pulling you in by the waist. He’s naturally leaning into you, gravitating towards your warmth, unable to stop the giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach.

He doesn’t think the feeling will ever go away.

When you pull away to catch your breath, you rest your head against the nook of his neck, basking in his presence as his arms both find their way around your waist. You sigh in pleasure.

“Remember at the beginning of all of this, when you told me ‘Just try not to fall in love with me?’” Jake gently says. Jake feels the slight nod you give against his shoulder as you hum in response.

Jake whispers two more words into your ear, filling you with happiness and warmth you know you won’t be able to find through anyone––or anything––else.

“Too late.”

✰ if you made it ‘til the end, ily :’)))))

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wincestisasincest · 3 years

Text

The Barrel - Ch. 1 (LOTR x Reader)

Okay, so time for a fun and sexy take on Modern Girl in Middle Earth that no one asked for - what if the Modern Girl had a gun? I wanted to try and write something where the Modern Girl in question was not completely defenseless, and had a fair amount of experience that the others lacked.

This will be very slow burn, I think.

Chapter: 1

Words: 1452

Warnings: Blood, guns (obviously)

Pairings: None (yet)

The butt of the rifle cracked against your cheek. You bit your tongue, but kept your arms rigid and eyes open. The taste of copper slithered between your teeth.

The orc staggered, his head reeling back with the force of the bullet that had just been lodged into it. His spine arched, and his arms flailed. Before he could catch his balance, his heart finished beating and he collapsed to the ground. Pungent, dark blood oozed into the dirt.

The wizard hardly flinched. His weary, sloped brow and buggish eyes were fixed on you thoughtfully. He tugged a strand of his curly brown beard - the one that had been blanched with bird crap.

You dropped your arms and let the rifle relax into the natural dent of your hands. They were clammy, but the crisp chilliness of the forest kept them from being sweaty. Everything about you, from the fresh redness pooling in your cheeks due to the recoil of the gun to the congested nose you had that made you sniff every couple of minutes, put you on the edge of sickness. And yet, here you were, shambling and corpse-like, but still upright and alive.

You stepped towards the wizard, your eyes occasionally darting back to the orc. You hadn’t registered yet that you were the one who killed it. You’d give it some time.

“Are you Radagast the Brown?”

You kept your voice monotone and deep to not risk exposing the rasp extending up the back of your throat.

“Who’s asking? Friend or foe?”

“Friend. I’m (y/n).”

“No family?”

“None that are around here. I’m, uh, not from here. If it wasn’t already obvious.”

You swayed nervously on your legs. Your combat boots were worn beyond repair, though their gaudy artificial stitching that was loosely holding them together still stuck out like a sore thumb. The black tank top clung to your body, and though you mostly kept it hidden with an oversized jacket, you couldn’t help the occasional peak of bare flesh and tight fabric. Oh, and, of course, your jeans were bright-ass blue and had a leather tag on the back with an impeccably printed logo.

“Indeed,” the wizard nodded, “I’ve never seen a bow quite like that before.”

You neither. This whole shooting business was about as new as Middle Earth. When you had woken up in a small pile of freshly fallen leaves, the gun, along with a few packages of ammo, were about 10 feet from your stiff body. You hadn’t dared to practice anything besides loading and unloading the gun, lest you run out of ammo in the middle of your hour of need. You had abstained from counting, knowing that it would just make you more nervous.

“Yeah...” you trailed, “but anyway, I know you don't know me, but you know Gandalf, right? He needs help.”

“Help? Now, there’d have to be something mighty strong that could get that old goat in trouble,” he raised an eyebrow hawkishly.

“Saruman.”

“Saruman? Well now, that can’t be.”

“He’s working with Sauron. Looking for the ring, and-”

“Hush!” he finally broke eye contact with you and warily scanned the tops of the trees. Nothing but a wall of silence.

“The forest... it’s quiet. Someone is listening. Come, come. Matters like these ought to be discussed inside,” he turned around and waved for you to follow, hustling in between long, imposing trunks that looked like they were ready to fall on you and crush the life out of you at any second.

******

You had killed the moth. Not on purpose, of course. You seemed to have fallen on it after you crashed through the sky of Middle Earth.

You could remember hearing its screams. You rolled over, looking for the source, grinding the roots further into your ribcage. When you finally saw the tiny thing flitting on the ground, trying to get your attention, you dumbly watched its crushed wings and snapped legs twitch with jolts of desperation.

“I have a message! A message for Radagast the Brown! Friend of the Eagles! You must take it in my stead - it is urgent. The fate of Gandalf the Gray depends on it.”

You said nothing, barely able to keep yourself conscious as you rapidly inhaled and expelled stilted breaths.

“Gandalf the Gray was betrayed by former friend Saruman the White. He is on top of the tower Orthanc, in Isengard, dying with each passing moment. He dispatched me to tell Radagast to seek out the aid of the Eagles - he fears that they may be his only chance at rescue from the tower.”

“Are... are you real?” you finally sputtered.

“I am alive, but not for much longer. My strength fails me. But you must go. Follow along the edge of Mirkwood until you find the brown wizard. The fate of Gandalf, and perhaps the realm, may depend on you. Please, time is of the essence. You must leave.”

The creature’s mouth never moved. You never heard the sound of its voice. But you felt the words in your head, bouncing around there after being injected by some foreign source. The moth pointed its head straight at you.

“Please. It does not matter who you are - your future depends on the knowledge that only Gandalf holds.”

A throbbing pain blossomed in the back of your head, just under your neck. The moth flitted its wings once more, and then the telepathic force that had been drilling into your skull blinked out.

You took a long sip of murky liquid in a cracked glass teacup. Warmth stirred in your void of a stomach, which you had been trying to ignore.

“My word. Then it is true. Saruman has turned to the darkness,” Radagast said to no one in particular. He looked out the window, as if waiting for the silhouette of his friend to appear over the horizon, completely fine.

“I’m sorry,” was all that you could say.

He turned to you, eyes still flickering with life but in danger of going out.

“So am I,” he said grimly, “but, no matter. Gandalf was right. The Eagles are his only chance of salvation from a place as wicked as Isengard. I’ll get the message to them at once.”

He looked at his feet. You couldn’t actually recall much about Radagast from the books - you knew more about how low of an opinion Saruman had of him. But the look of despair that was settling deep within his chest was a grave reminder that he was just as capable of complex thought as anyone else.

You realized that you had just seen a man accept that there would be war on their hands, and that there was nothing he could do to avoid it.

“It will be alright in the end,” you found yourself saying.

Finally, he looked up at you sadly.

“I know. The world will always be okay in the end. And I, who have lived many years and will live many more, will be around to see it. But what will happen to everyone in between?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “but in the meantime we’ll just... do our best to protect them. That’s all we can do, right?”

You tilted the edge of your lips up, not quite forming a grin but far from the hopeless neutrality that you had carried with you into the house. He analyzed you, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips, not caring if you noticed.

“Who are you?”

“I’m (y/n).”

“A person is more than their name, especially one such as you.”

“I’m nobody important to this world. I don’t belong here.”

“And yet here you are. You’ve become somebody important,” he scratched his chin, “this appears to be beyond me, but I suggest that you consult with Gandalf. You’re already heading in his direction anyway.”

“What?”

“I’m sending you with the Eagles. The fellow will be in a mighty poor condition when you find him, it’d be irresponsible for me to send him back all by himself. And besides, you seem like a useful person to know.”

He smiled coyly. Your mind buzzed.

“There must be someone else that you can send?”

“Nope. Well, no one humann, anyway. One of the quirks of dedicating your being to the plants and the animals. Now, on you get! I can hear them circling overhead.”

You had no idea how he had summoned the Eagles, and at this point, you were almost too afraid to ask. You gritted your teeth and let your stomach do a cartwheel as you realized that you were about to come to terms with your fear of heights in the worst way possible.

So be it.

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kieraelieson · 3 years

Text

No Rest for the Deathworlders

Logan had always loved the stars.

Still did, though his love had been dampened by the way in which he was currently seeing them.

He watched out the window, or rather, screen, but it was made to show the outside of the ship, and thinking of it as a window was oddly comforting. A bit of something close to home.

A lump grew in his throat at the thought of home, pressing against the collar. He forced himself back to a neutral, tugging the collar away from the front of his throat as far as it would go. A brief flicker of anger replaced the nostalgia. Anger at the collar, at his own inability to remove it, at the monsters that had forced it onto him, at his own complacency now that it was on.

He didn’t have it as bad as some other humans did, he was well aware. All the collar did was teleport him to the location of the person holding the remote. Granted, it was unpleasant and incredibly disorienting, but nothing like the near-torture he’d heard was the more common method of keeping humans captive.

The captain of the ship was smart in choosing Logan, as far as the welfare of the ship went.

“You’re invested in your own survival,” He’d said through the translators. “If the ship goes down, you’ll go with it. If you sabotage the ship and try to escape on a pod, I can get you back to me immediately, and you’ll meet the same fate as you intended for us. It’s in your best interests to cooperate and to bond with the crew.”

Well, Logan could agree that it was in his best interests to cooperate. But no one could make him get attached to anyone. And no one could stop him from making little problems.

Like ignoring the insistent, “Human, where are you? Human!” that was coming from his communicator.

The window dissolved in front of him, and Logan felt abruptly as if he were on the world’s worst rollercoaster for several seconds. It took him a minute to register the angry captain now in front of him. He was yelling something, but not through the communicator, so Logan couldn’t understand what. And he was far too dizzy and almost nauseous to pay attention even if it was understandable.

He shook his head slowly from side to side and up and down once, hoping to clear the vertigo somewhat.

“You must come when called!” The communicator translated. “Or at least answer!”

Logan stubbornly remained silent, the dizziness gradually clearing.

For an alien that looked more like a slime monster than anything with a real face, the captain still managed to look extremely displeased. Not that Logan cared.

“There are ------ trailing our ship,” the captain said, one of his words not translating properly. “We need to go faster or we’ll get boarded.”

Ok, maybe Logan did care.

“Humans are supposed to be good at making ships go faster, fix it.”

Logan frowned. “I’ve been here three days,” he said into the communicator. “I hardly know how anything in the ship works, much less how to improve any of its functions!”

“I’ve studied humans, I know better than that, fix it.” The captain said shortly.

Logan opened his mouth to protest, but the room around him dissolved, the horrible spinning sensation back. His legs gave out and he dropped onto the floor in a different place.

He swallowed hard, his stomach threatening to upend itself.

“And they call you deathworlders,” someone scoffed. “A transporter has you on your knees.”

Beyond his sick feelings, and the anger at being mocked, he caught onto that plural reference. Was there another human on the ship?

In addition, there were apparently multiple remotes to the teleporter around his throat, which ruined his plan of trying to steal or fight the captain for the one.

He slowly sat up, his head still spinning. He hoped that his body would eventually grow accustomed to the teleportation and the dizziness would stop being so awful.

There was a chittering sound beside him that the translator didn’t attempt to process. He turned to see an alien that would likely be very tall if it wasn’t on all fours. It was very thin, with long arms and legs, which ended in smooth nubs, without hands or feet. The front two, which Logan thought of as arms, though the alien probably would have a different name for them, seemed to be perforated along the last six inches. As Logan watched, one of them was extended towards him slowly, and something softer could be seen on the inside. It was able to be extruded through the holes, and was likely the way in which the alien could grasp things.

He backed away from the limb before it could touch him, and the alien also backed away a step, making a low woody sounding whistle, like air blown over a jug. It’s head looked rather moth-like, with antenna that curled and straightened, and large eyes.

The alien seemed sentient, though Logan was confused that the translator wasn’t picking up on its speech.

Until he saw a very familiar collar, only around their waist. They were also captive then. And possibly, though it disappointed his hopes of meeting another human, they were the other deathworlder, also affected poorly by the teleportation.

The strange attempted touch then, could have potentially been intended as comfort or aid.

“You’ve been sitting long enough, get this ship to move faster,” the other alien in the room grumbled.

Logan glared. “How am I even supposed to do that?” He snapped. “I don’t have training or experience, I don’t know what half this stuff is and I can’t read your labels!”

“You can either fix it now, or we can teleport you between here and the captain until you do.” The alien's tone was disgusting and wet, and Logan was glad he could focus on the robot sound of the translator as his stomach lurched again.

He could try.

If nothing else, he might learn some new things and be able to convince them that he really wasn’t able to just do things he’d never tried before.

The room was smaller than he would’ve expected, presuming he was in a kind of engine room. Around the edges of the room were a number of bins, holding substances ranging from powders to liquids.

In the center of the room was a glass tube that went from floor to ceiling, and seemed to be filled with a glowing crystal stalagmite. From the top of the tube dripped some kind of liquid, and at the bottom it flowed out in small pipes, glowing the same as the crystal and possibly converted into fuel.

He could assume that with all of the powders and liquids that there was a chemical reaction causing the substance to obtain the glowing quality and become fuel. But what that was, and how to know what was safe to change about it, he had no idea.

“Well?” The alien, whom he now assumed to be what served as the ship’s engineer, asked.

He was making so many assumptions, and still was barely anywhere. They could all be wrong.

“Explain to me how it works,” Logan said. “Then I’ll try to ‘fix’ it.”

The alien made an unpleasant sound that the translator interpreted as a sigh. “This is a ——-, the liquid is a mixture of ——, ——, ——-, and ——, but it could be made with any of the ——— family instead of the ———, or you could replace the ———- with ——— for better efficiency at different energy levels. We also have several forms of ———-, which ought to make more potent fuel for higher speeds, but every time we’ve tried the ———- smokes and explodes and there’s residue in the tubing for several rotations which puts us at a standstill.”

Logan grimaced. He had a very small idea of what was being said based on gestures, but he’d much prefer to have names and details. It seemed this was a very large and dangerous version of chemistry experiments, with no textbook, and his only advice coming from someone who hadn’t studied.

Well, there was the other ‘deathworlder’ in the room. He could only hope they knew something about any of this. Though the difficulty in communication might make that knowledge impossible to access.

He turned towards them anyway. “Can you understand me at all?”

They made another low whistling sound, followed by chittering. One arm waved, with… could he call them fingers? gesturing towards Logan.

He hoped desperately that he could consider that to be a yes.

“What would you do in—“

The engineer’s communicator interrupted him. “We thought we’d have a few more rotations but they’re closing in, has the human done anything yet?”

“No,” the engineer said. “It’s just staring at everything.”

“Well get it to hurry!”

The other ‘deathworlder’ made a long series of noises, pointing at one bin in particular and then at a place where it seemed the not-yet-fuel liquid was.

It was a foolish thing. A very foolish thing. But Logan took a scoop from the bin and dumped the powder into the liquid.

It bubbled and fizzed on contact, sending up thick clouds of a dark blue smoke.

An alarm blared.

The ship lurched, knocking them all to the ground.

And then the new ingredient actually hit the crystal, and there was a loud, high pitched ringing.

Logan covered his ears and shut his eyes, feeling like a weight was pressing him to the floor.

Everything was spinning, and loud, and then it was loud in a very different, but no less painful way.

“Protect me!” The captain shrieked.

There was a pained, screeching scream.

Logan was shoved, but he was barely aware of which direction, let alone what he was supposed to do about any of it.

Something grabbed onto his shoulders, and he flailed, hitting and kicking indiscriminately. Something burned on his side, and he kicked into something much more solid, sending a throbbing pain up his leg.

Everything was noise and pain and lights and movement and he didn’t understand any of it!

Logan struck out blindly at anything that came near him.

He thought he’d backed into a wall, but something must’ve been behind him, and it hit him hard over the head. He dropped to the floor, tears swimming in his eyes and blurring everything even further.

Everything dissolved around him and he was falling, spinning, dropping, tossed.

He was grateful more than anything when unconsciousness took him.

•^*^••

He woke slowly, feeling hazy and heavy. It was quiet, and not too bright, nothing was touching him. So he didn’t bother to open his eyes, just laying still.

He wasn’t dead at least.

Probably the pirates had attacked. Definitely he’d ruined the ship he’d been on.

The question was, was being with pirates any better than living on a ruined ship with aliens that considered him to be some kind of hyper-intelligent slave?

Or perhaps the question was, where was he now?

He forced his eyes open.

He was in a relatively large, empty room. The floor and walls seemed bare, though patched, not all of a single material.

He pushed himself up. There was a loud skittering noise away from him, and he yelped, flinging himself away clumsily.

He turned, and saw the other deathworlder, front legs shaking and making a rattling noise. He wasn’t sure if it was a fear response, a method of communication, or even some kind of threat display.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, backing up a little farther.

The other alien didn’t try to come close again, so he figured it was mostly likely not interested in threatening him. There wasn’t an echo of his words in an alien language though, and he patted his shoulder to discover that the translator had been taken. His hand went to his throat, disappointed to find that they’d left the collar.

It was still there on the other alien also. They were both still prisoners then, wherever they were.

Looking around, it seemed that they were in an empty cargo space, rather than a proper holding cell, so there was a slightly greater possibility of escape.

There was that low whistling sound again. Logan was certain it was meant as a form of communication.

He tried whistling back, as low as he was capable of.

The alien chittered and shook its legs again, but Logan couldn’t tell even if it was a positive or negative reaction.

“I… don’t know how to talk with you,” he said, keeping his tone low and calm. He sat in a comfortable, loose position, hoping to get across the calm in his tone and posture. “But I’d like to try. I’m not sure what anything you’re doing means, and it’s possible you’re in the same situation. I’m hoping that you have more knowledge of humans than I do of your kind, and that you’ll be able to make better inferences than I’m currently capable of.”

The alien cocked its head to the side, watching him as he spoke. It took a tentative step forward on its spindly legs, and then propped itself on three, holding the fourth out to him.

Logan eyed the appendage. The softer inside substance was filling the holes, making it appear to have small bumps, rather than holes. He held out a hand to it, but didn’t try to touch.

The alien bumped the end of its leg into Logan’s palm.

That seemed… good? Perhaps this was a greeting similar to a handshake?

Logan very gently grasped the end of the appendage, the softer inside substance feeling cool to the touch, and almost like a stiff putty, whereas the harder outer shell felt very smooth and rigid, similar to metal, but light.

The alien retracted their arm, and then looked between their arm and his hand. The inner substance reformed, pressing out from several holes into a clear attempt at fingers. It seemed to be fully controlled by the alien, and moveable, albeit much more slowly than Logan could move his own fingers.

“That’s very impressive,” Logan said.

The alien chittered back at him.

Perhaps they could get somewhere through a kind of charades.

•^*^••

“I think that’s all we can carry,” Roman said, looking over the wreckage.

“We can hold more, we aren’t full yet,” Remus protested, still sad that some of the ship’s inhabitants had taken the escape pods. Aside from the power crystal, which was far too unstable to take, they were the best value on the little ship.

“The whole 3rd cargo bay is empty for the two deathworlders, we’re full.” Roman insisted.

“Oh. Forgot about them. Well, if we can hold ‘em, they might be enough to make it worth it.”

“If we can refill,” Roman grumbled. “I was expecting usable power from this ship.”

It had really been a not-very-great raid. They’d lost Aide, and Bill, and Rahgezis, and hadn’t even gotten much of anything good out of it.

And the deathworlders were far too grumpy to join the crew. If they’d had enough room they would’ve separated them, but he just took away the translators and hoped they weren’t already pack-bonded, and wouldn’t become so. Two single deathworlders were bad enough, two together? Their ship would be a wreck from the inside out.

They needed to give them a rotation or two to calm down, try and have a talk, and then drop them off at the nearest Embassy and get away before bad things happened.

Maybe the Embassy would even pay them for handing over deathworlders. Or maybe they’d arrest them for being pirates.

But without Rahgezis, Remus didn’t want to attempt anything on the black market with such a high demand as deathworlders.

And the teleportation bands should make it a little easier on them. They were super old, and no one in their right mind would use them, except as a practical joke, or a way of keeping enemies too off balance to attack. The ones on the two of them had been fused closed, rather than the usual buckle, so he felt more safe trying to hold the deathworlders than he would otherwise.

They’d only found one remote, but Inshes was already working on making a second.

“I’m going to see if the Scraascik is on any registries,” Roman said. “And I’ll check for the Human, but that’s less likely.”

Remus nodded. “I’ll handle getting us moving again. If they’re awake, maybe you could see about dropping some food into the cargo bay.”

“Yeah, I’ll try.” Roman sighed.

Remus set a claw on Roman’s back. Roman grumbled, leaning into Remus’s side, and then went off to do his research.

It’d been a hard day for both of them.

•^*^••

They’d managed to exchange names… sort of. The alien’s name was two notes, whistled lower than Logan was capable of, and likewise there was no way of the alien being able to pronounce the word Logan.

But the alien made a deep, almost resonant sound, that was as close as it seemed they could get to anything involving vocal cords. And that was their version of Logan.

Logan considered the two note sound, and came up with a slightly similar-sounding name. Virgil.

Neither of their names for each other were really very similar to their actual names, but they were able to understand each other, and that was what mattered.

As it turned out, Virgil was stronger than he was at pushing things, or hitting, but they couldn’t pull with any strength.

Logan was focusing his attention on the door, and had been so far unsuccessful in prying it open. It was solidly locked, and the lock seemed to only be on the other side of the door. Which likely meant that this room was detachable from the rest of the ship, in case of emergency or danger.

“Virgil.” Logan said, and Virgil turned to look at him from the patch on the wall they’d been inspecting.

Logan hit the door with his palm, his arm straight, in an imitation of the way he’d seen Virgil hit some of the patches, trying to break them. “Hit here.” He pointed at Virgil, and then at a spot where he suspected the lock was.

Virgil made a chittering sound and shambled over.

Logan again mimicked the strike, and then pointed at Virgil.

Virgil got into position. They were able to balance on three legs and rock their whole body weight forward to strike that small point their arm hit with all their strength and weight together.

They tried three times, but the door held firm.

Logan was impressed that they did not seem hurt by the attempt. Their exoskeleton must be very strong indeed. Which was possibly a part of why they were considered a deathworlder.

Logan wondered what their home planet was like.

The door suddenly opened, an alien clearly holding up one of the remotes to the teleporters.

Virgil backed away, turning and running to the other end of the room.

The alien spoke into a small microphone, which translated. “I brought food. Don’t come near me.”

The alien’s body looked almost bear-like, but with longer legs, clearly bipedal. They were only about half the size of a bear though. The fur also was shorter and sparser, and a very reddish kind of brown. The hands looked more useful than a bear’s paws as well. The head though was very unlike a bear’s. Logan didn’t know what to compare it to.

The alien was wearing clothes, which Logan had learned was entirely optional to most aliens, in bright reds and goldish yellows.

Perhaps this meant that this particular alien was more… Logan hesitated to say civilized. He scarcely knew anything about aliens, and could hardly make such judgements about them. Still, he believed he had a bit more chance reasoning with this one.

“Let us out of here,” he said, grateful that the translator picked it up and interpreted it.

“No.”

“We will leave you alone, we will not harm the ship. Let us go,” Logan said calmly but firmly.

The alien again said no, pushing in a tray of what could be food into the room with their foot, already starting to close the door.

“Wait!” Logan said, stepping forward.

The alien jumped, and pushed the button on the remote.

It didn’t seem to affect Logan, but instead Virgil was teleported close to the door. Virgil stumbled, falling against the wall and letting out what could only be described as a scream.

The alien who had delivered food looked even more scared now, and quickly shut the door. Logan pushed through his shock and alarm to try to open the door before it could be locked, but he was too late.

Virgil slumped to the ground, scream fading to a whistling wheeze.

As bad as the teleportation felt to him, Logan was scared that Virgil was being injured by it. Perhaps on the inside, where they were softer. Or perhaps it put too much strain on their rigid exoskeleton.

Was there anything he could do? He didn’t have any idea about what Virgil could need for medical care, and he didn’t want an attempt at comfort to be construed as an attack, especially while Virgil was vulnerable.

He knelt close to Virgil, a bit farther than an arm's length.

“Virgil?”

Virgil’s eyes opened, and from this close Logan could see the differentiation between pupil and iris. Virgil’s eyes were moving back and forth, like Logan had seen before in children who’d been spun in circles. He was likely still extremely disoriented then.

Virgil lifted one arm and waved it around slowly. It knocked into Logan’s shoulder lightly, and Virgil kept tapping it against his shoulders and head. Logan allowed it without complaint, guessing that it was grounding to Virgil, being able to verify that Logan was in one place and not moving, not spinning.

Virgil gradually steadied, taking their arm back.

Logan wished he had a way to ask ‘are you ok?’, but he didn’t. The best he had was, “Virgil?”

The whistle-clack he got in return seemed more positive than negative, though he had no way of accurately judging alien tones.

“Logan.”

Logan nodded, as it seemed the correct response.

Virgil pointed towards the nearly-forgotten tray, and Logan went to get it. Virgil struggled to their feet, looking something like a very large baby deer first trying to stand. If Logan had to guess, Virgil’s kind didn’t frequently sit or lie down.

The tray had a number of small round roll-like things that Logan was now accustomed to seeing. They were similar to banana bread in texture, but the taste was salty and rather bitter. When he’d asked, he’d been told that they were the standard in rations as they kept for a long time, and held an array of nutrients that was sufficient for the basic needs of a majority of species.

He suspected that he would require some greens or fruit if he continued eating these primarily, but he hadn’t seen any anywhere, only these.

Virgil stood over him and leaned down as much as they seemed easily capable of, which still left their head several feet above the ground. Logan was just wondering if they would need assistance to eat when a very long tongue, or perhaps proboscis, unrolled from their mouth and curled around one of the rolls, pulling it up into their mouth.

“What do you eat natively?” Logan wondered aloud. “And do you need water?”

There was a pitcher of water and two small cups. Logan poured one cup full and held it out to Virgil.

Virgil seemed to still be chewing, however, and incapable of drinking while doing so. Or perhaps they didn’t require water. Though, now that Logan was watching, he didn’t believe they were chewing at all. Certainly there was no jaw movement. They could be massaging the food with their tongue, and have particularly effective saliva perhaps.

Logan started eating a roll, setting Virgil’s cup down and filling the other for himself.

A minute later Virgil’s tongue unrolled again and drained the cup, seemingly effective as a massive straw.

“You really are fascinating,” Logan said softly. “Were we not in such a situation I would love to learn more about you.”

Virgil responded with a series of clicks and whistles.

“As it is though, we probably ought to attempt an escape. They haven’t tried to get anything from us, which makes me think they intend on trafficking us further. Most likely they don’t have the power to force us into work like the last ship did, so I think, despite the danger, that this will be our best chance. Of course, the danger is greater for you, the teleportation seems to hurt you much more than it does me.” Logan thought for a while. “I think our best bet would be to try forcing our way out the door the next time it opens. Perhaps one of us could knock the remote away. It is enlightening to know that the remote only works on one of us at a time.”

Logan sighed. “Of course we don’t know when or if they’ll enter again. It’s possible we’ll be held here until we reach wherever we’re going.”

Virgil made a low, soft whistle.

Logan laid on his back. “I can’t even properly ask you for your partnership. It’s infuriating to not be able to succeed at anything I attempt. There’s such a wealth of knowledge that is necessary, and I have no idea of any of it. Nor a way of learning, save through painful experience. I can’t become complacent, I have to effect change, but I never know when my efforts will be simply overturned.”

Virgil nudged his arm with their own.

Logan turned to look at them. Virgil chittered at him, bobbing up and down on their legs.

“What is it?”

“Logan.” Virgil said, still bobbing up and down.

Logan sat up. “I don’t understand.”

Virgil tapped his legs with their arm. “Logan.”

Logan stood up. “Is this what you want? Oh. If you don’t lay down to sleep, you must’ve been concerned when I did. I’ll have to sleep sometime though, and surely you’ve been exposed to aliens that lay down to sleep.”

But rather than relaxing, as Logan would assume Virgil would do if they were concerned, Virgil stepped closer, almost over Logan. Their antenna tilted towards him.

“Oh I see, this would be how you would confirm that I’m healthy, by feeling with your antenna, yes?” Logan remained still, unsurprised when there was a soft touch on his head.

But he was not at all expecting the sudden mental image of himself tackling the alien who’d delivered the food. It was so vivid it was as if he was already doing it, seeing the door open, tackling the alien, smashing the remote, and running forward to climb onto Virgil’s back as Virgil ran them both through the hallway.

Logan jerked back, falling on his butt. “What was that?! You have telepathy??”

Virgil made a movement that could be best described as a shrug.

Logan stood up again, reaching his hand out, battling his speed from excitement in an attempt not to scare Virgil. “Can we do it again?”

Virgil brushed his hand with their antenna, and the same scene flashed before his mind’s eye.

“Yes, yes I’ll do that! Can you understand my answer?”

Virgil made a whistle that Logan was almost certain was affirmative.

Logan paced back and forth excitedly, thinking out loud. “So you can communicate with me even if I can’t communicate with you well. And you very much want my partnership in escaping. We have a plan now. And a form of communication. Virgil, this is amazing!”

Virgil made an almost trilling noise.

•^*^••

“No, it hurt the Scraascik,” Roman said, already changing the ship’s course. “We can’t hold them safely, we have to get to the Embassy.”

“We didn’t even ask them to join us yet!” Remus protested.

“Would you join a strange crew after they hurt you?” Roman retorted, sending a message to the engine room to increase speed.

“Well what about the other one?”

“Remus. It won’t work.” Roman glared at him. “I don’t want to take chances with deathworlders.”

Remus sighed. “Fine. But let me try talking to them before we get there.”

Roman’s face went hard. “You have until we arrive,” he finally conceded.

Remus hurried down to the cargo bay.

He burst the door open, and it slammed shut behind him. Both deathworlders jolted, staring at him.

He then realized that he’d entirely forgotten the remote and the duplicate, and also that he was locked in a room with two deathworlders.

Well, there was a reason people joked he was addicted to adrenaline.

“Hello!” He said, waving. “I’m wondering if you’ll join my crew.”

The human moved first, standing up to a height decently taller than Remus was. And the Scraascik was even larger.

Perhaps he really was in serious danger.

“We just want to leave,” the human said, sounding rather threatening.

Probably telling them about the plan to hand them over to the Embassy then wasn’t a good idea until he was sure that he wasn’t in attack distance anymore. “You can, leave with us. Join our crew and you can adventure with us, raid ships, explore planets!”

“We want to leave alone,” the human said firmly.

“We? So… you bonded then? I guess that rumor is true, deathworlders all really do bond super fast.”

The human bared its teeth at him. “I will not be bonding to your crew based on your desires. I will not remain here, I want to leave. We want to leave.”

The Scraascik agreed in some of the most heavily accented Common Remus had ever heard. No wonder the translators hadn’t picked up any of his yelling when they’d boarded the ship. He’d probably need a translator to touch his antenna, but good luck getting a Scraascik to let anything touch their antenna.

“So you won’t even consider it?” Remus asked, not yet daunted.

“You’ve essentially kidnapped us, and both can and have hurt us! Why would I consider it?”

Yikes, the human sounded angry.

“Well we didn’t mean to hurt you, really, it’s not meant to be that bad. And we only kidnapped you from other kidnappers, and also I can’t hurt you cause I forgot the remote.”

The two deathworlders looked at each other, and Remus knew he really had gone and shoved his whole fist in his mouth. The human shifted position to a much more threatening crouch, as if it was going to pounce on him.

Remus held his arms out, claws at the ready. He might not have a hope of winning against deathworlders, but he could certainly make himself a pain of a target.

“I know I’m a pirate, but this was supposed to be just a talk,” Remus said, wondering if he’d be able to hit the communicator in time and if rescue was possible. Violent deathworlders in an enclosed space was not something he wanted his crew walking into, even for a rescue.

“It’s not much of a talk when we don’t have a say,” the human said, looking more and more threatening every second.

Iaoth , he wanted this human on his crew.

“Of course you have a say!” Remus said. “Name it, what position do you want, what pay, days off, I’ll give you whatever room in the ship you want as your quarters.”

“I fundamentally disagree with joining people that would knowingly traffic other people,” the human growled.

And then it leapt forward.

Remus yelped, swiping at the human and hitting the communicator with his other hand. “Roman!”

He was tackled to the ground, and the Scraascik pinned one arm while the human sat on his middle and held his other arm down.

“Remus?!” Roman’s voice came through the communicator.

“Let us go,” the human growled. “Once we’re out we’ll let them go.”

There was a tremor to the floor that Remus recognized. Roman must have been overloading the engine, they’d arrived and were docking.

“Is Remus ok?” Roman asked, sounding terrified.

“I’m fine, just a little stuck,” Remus said, trying to not sound scared so Roman wouldn’t get even more worried. “Laying under a deathworlder~ not quite as fun as I always imagined.”

Roman made a sound somewhere between a sob and laugh. “I’m coming to let you out. Don’t hurt him. Please.”

Remus was honestly a bit surprised that he was only pinned. The human was leaking blood from its shoulder and across its chest where Remus’s swipe had connected, but it hadn’t retaliated.

“Hurry,” the human said coldly.

The communicator turned off, and Remus had a strong suspicion Roman was calling the Embassy to have guards outside the ship when the cargo hold was opened.

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Remus asked. “I know it won’t look like it from your end, but we don’t traffic, we take from ships we attack, but we’d either let them join us or take them to the authorities, we don’t just continue the traffic. And we could use people like you, you could help us take down so many more ships.”

The Scraascik leaned harder on his arm, and Remus grimaced.

“What would the authorities do?” The human asked.

“Uhhhh… well with the Scraascik, probably drop him back on his own planet, or with a Scraascik colony. Your planet though is still restricted, so they’d probably keep you until it’s opened.”

The human’s face contorted into something that did not look good for Remus.

“We’re on our way there, aren’t we?”

Remus wasn’t sure he dared lie, not when he was pinned to the ground with two very angry-seeming deathworlders over him. “Yeah.”

The human hit the communicator. “Listen.”

“I’m listening,” Roman said warily.

“Don’t open the cargo hold,” the human ordered. “You’re a pirate ship. You have smaller ships for scavenging, yes?”

“…yes.”

“Give us one.”

There was a long pause from Roman.

“Put food and fuel and translators in it,” the human said firmly. “We’re taking this one with us until we’re safely inside.”

This was probably wrecking Roman’s plans. There would be authorities involved and now no deathworlders to give them.

“Alright,” Roman said.

•^*^••

The door to the cargo hold was opened. Logan had the bear-alien in a tight hold, and Virgil was above them, looking like they were ready to strike out at anything that got within range.

They managed to walk along the halls until they reached the smaller ship. Logan had no idea how he was going to fly it, but it was the biggest chance by far that he’d had yet.

He shoved the bear alien away and slammed the door shut.

Virgil went immediately to the pilot’s seat, and Logan was amazed to see that there were places in the ceiling that fit their antenna. Soon there was a fast and loud humming, and the tiny ship lurched into motion.

•^*^••

Patton was being sent, since they didn’t really believe that there could be a Human and a Scraascik on the cobbled-together ship that had docked. So it was just him and Janus.

Janus wrapped his long tail around the back of Patton’s neck for balance as Patton walked back and forth, waiting for the ship to open its cargo bay.

It sure was taking a long time. They’d seemed so rushed when they called, but now they just wouldn’t open.

And then there was an engine powering up.

A teeny little scavenging ship took off from the bigger one, flying off. Patton scanned it, alarmed to see that there was indeed a Scraascik and a Human signature on board.

“Hey! Hey wait!”

He pulled out his radio, quickly setting it to the bigger ship’s frequency. “Let me in and go after them! We can’t let a Human go flying around unattended!”

“If they don’t let us in fast, go take the SC Meteor,” Janus said.

Patton wasn’t too surprised when the ship started undocking without answering him.

“We’ll get them!” He yelled, running for the Meteor.

#Forgot I meant to post this on tumblr and never did 😅#my own work #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #humans are space orcs

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dreamii-yume · 3 years

Text

Darling Lumine Brainrot! {Part Four}

Venti

[Warnings : Yandere | Dub-Con that gradually became Non-Con | Emotional Manipulation | Venlumi Ship]

This one had absolutely no right to be longer than the last brainrots lol

Other than the bar, if there’s any other place you can find Venti at—It’s at Windrise. Basking in that fresh air on the top of Vanessa’s symbolic tree, playing his lyre like the bard that he is now and spreading his tunes to all life around. It’s not easy to miss such melody so unique to the Mondstandt’s famous bard.

It’s just so happens that it’s also where one of the Statue of the Seven is located, so its often a place of healing and worship. I figured Lumine would almost always be there just to take a breather because having to deal with crazy-ass hornii men is a goddamn headache. Her only quest of finding her brother had just turned into something more complicated and honestly, it’s really tiring—Even for her, who doesn’t belong into this world.

Venti would hear her silent weeping, muttering about where her brother is and couldn’t help but pity the poor girl—He just can’t leave such a sweetheart like her all alone like that, can he? She’s done so much for his nation, it’s just fair to help her back in return, right?

So, Venti would jump down from the branch he was resting in and gracefully land before Lumine’s eyes, as if he was the guardian angel that she was waiting for. He’ll lift up her mood, comforting her with words of advice or through his songs alone. He’s a persistant one too, he won’t stop until he gets a smile on this cute little traveller’s face—It’s what suits her the best, after all!

He’ll ask her what was wrong, to tell him the full story so he can understand her situation better. Was she feeling homesick? How about listening to a song that sparks the nostalgia in you? You’ll surely feel like a child again and clear that homesickness away! Does she miss her brother? Don’t worry, no bonds is ever stronger than familial bonds, fate always has its way in bringing the two of you together! Or is she just lonely? Hehe…Venti’s here to clear all that loneliness away!

But then—Though her mood is a lot better now than before, it feels as though Lumine isn’t being very honest with him here. She’s avoiding something, perhaps a personal problem that…oh. His eyes glanced down on the ugly marks on her skin and soon enough, he gulped in realization to what the real source of her problem was…To think some kind of brute was able to do this to her.

Venti won’t say anything about it—If Lumine was avoiding this very subject, then that just means she doesn’t want to talk about it. She’s already became a little bit cheerful at this point, so bringing a topic that she doesn’t like would just be the absolute worst…Instead, Venti would offer subtle warm indications that’ll hopefully make her feel less…violated, you know? To clear off that dirty feeling on the inside. To forget even for just a moment as he wraps his hands around her and into a gentle hug.

And Lumine could feel that—His body language is so warm, so fuzzy. One that makes her tear up because this was the first time someone felt this genuinely close…Not even her brother has shown this level of tenderness. It’s so surreal, yet so familiar—She loves the way he pats her on the back too, stroking her hair, and making her feel like the most precious thing in the world.

And to Venti, that probably isn’t too far from the truth.

I feel like Venti would be the delusional one here—Rather than Lumine falling dependant on his gentle demeanor. There’s a high possibility that it’ll be him who’ll grow infatuated with the feeling of her body around his arms. I mean…Isn’t that obvious? Lumine was but a poor girl who is being treated cruelly by this world, it should be his duty to protect her! What kind of god was he to just let her suffer like that, right?

Similar to Kaeya, Venti would probably resort to seduction and a bit of manipulation—Feigning innocence to gather all her trust and when opportunity comes, he’ll take it. The only difference is that I can see him succeeding. He just has a way with words that makes everything he suggests so pleasing to hear, you know? It was so unlike Kaeya who sounds dishonest and insincere and not like Diluc who’s forceful and intimidating. Lumine even prefers it than her brother’s controlling tone—Though she would never say that out loud.

So, the next thing she knows—She’s on the bed with him, all sweaty, naked, and hot. She was confused on what exactly happened to lead her into this kind of situation but…Being fucked had never felt this good before. Venti is a little submissive, isn’t he? So, I don’t see him as a rough type of character when it comes to bed—He’s all about feeling good and god, does he know how to use his hands and dicc to their full potential. For the first time, Lumine actually thought she could enjoy something like this.

But though Venti provides a great sexual and comforting service, one that Lumine would probably prefer over others—Her journey must go on and one day, she’ll have to leave Mondstandt too, and to leave Venti as well. And that becomes quite the troublesome problem when this carefree god becomes a little…too attached, you know?

Venti knows it himself, he knows she’ll leave someday and he thought he was fine with it, but now—He isn’t so sure anymore. She’ll leave? To continue finding her brother? After all they’ve been through? That’s kinda…unfair, isn’t it? So, as a way to cope with this kind of overwhelming information, Venti just kinda…refuses to acknowledge it, in hopes that his antics alone will convince Lumine to eventually give up and stay with him.

So, so many distractions. He pulls a lot of excuses just to keep Lumine inside his nation for as long as he could, without actually looking as controlling as he wants to be. Hey, there’s a new festival coming up soon, won’t you stay for a while? I have a new song in mind, but it’s not finish yet so please wait just a little bit, okay? Traveller, would you like to go on a date with me? I know a place! It all becomes increasingly obvious and annoying as time goes on, he’s taking way too much of Lumine’s time. Even Paimon notices it.

And when the wholesome distractions doesn’t work? Or at least, not anymore—Well…Let’s just say, he’ll have the tendency to force affections out of Lumine when he’s really desperate. Oh, she’s speaking about her brother again—Might as well cut her off with a kiss that’ll eventually lead to a full make out session. Lumine’s trying to escape the conversation again—He’ll wrap his hands around her waist and pull her close to him so she won’t be able to get away any time soon.

It reaches the point where Lumine is now actively refusing his advances, pushing him away and whatnot—But Venti just refuses to budge. Come on, Traveller. Just one more round? You enjoyed it the first time, didn’t you? I promise it’ll be even better this time! Venti will use everything in his power to make Lumine answer his beck and call—Guilt-tripping, tears, and all those things that she’s naturally weak to.

He isn’t afraid to use any of that if it meant keeping her by his side.

#genshin impact #yandere #venlumi #ship #darling lumine #yume brainrot

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therenlover · 3 years

Text

Therenlover’s Official Fanfic Glossary!

Hey hey hey! This is the place where you can find all my up-to-date fanfics linked nicely, read about what projects I have upcoming, and learn what requests I’m taking at the moment! Cheers!

This post is massive so, for the sake of your dash, everything is under the cut

A NOTE ABOUT REQUESTS!

I will do my best to fulfill any requests I get while my ask box/requests are open! That being said, I cannot promise every request will get done, and that if they do, they’ll be done in a timely manner. I’m currently working on a long-form project that needs a lot of time and energy to come out consistently, so unless I’m doing a writing event most of my writing juice will be focused on that. That being said, if you want something ask! The worst I can possibly do is direct you towards someone else who might be able to write what you want if I cant.

If I choose not to do your request based on personal preference (it makes me uncomfy/I don’t write for the character at that time/I don’t feel I can write what you want/etc.) I will do my best to contact you and let you know! That being said, if you think your ask got buried/forgotten, feel free to message me again and let me know, but please tell me when you message me if I should be looking for a prior request.

Characters/Fandoms I will write for currently

💙 = I’m Currently Super Inspired To Write For This Character

Marvel/X-Men

Bucky Barnes

Loki

Peter Maximoff 💙

Pietro Maximoff

Helmut Zemo 💙

Hank McCoy

Ralph Bohner 💙

Vision

American Horror Story

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker 💙

Kyle Spencer (Pre- and Post- Death)

Jimmy Darling 💙

James Patrick March 💙

Kai Anderson

Fallout 4

Nick Valentine

Hancock

Star Wars

Poe Dameron

Armitage Hux 💙

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Finn

Han Solo

Assorted/Random

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne - FGO

Cu Chulainn/Cu Alter - FGO

Warren Lipka - American Animals 💙

Enjolras - Les Miserables

Grantaire - Les Miserables

Gabriel - Supernatural

Imagines - REQUESTS CLOSED

Songs From Musicals Y/N Would Sing To The Evans

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Headcanons - REQUESTS CLOSED

Modern! AU Armitage Hux Boyfriend Headcanons

Zemo With A Well Dress S/O Headcanons

Zemo Getting Jealous Headcanons

Oneshots - REQUESTS CLOSED

Marvel/X-Men

Helmut Zemo

One Last Night In Madripoor

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4200~

Still Some Catching Up To Do

Synopsis: As a member of the criminal underworld, people walk out of your life all the time. Some are killed, others kill themselves, most get caught and only a couple get out of the life unscathed, disappearing into the world never to be seen again. Very few walk back in. So when your supposedly incarcerated ex-lover, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon waltzed through your door and made you murder your boss, needless to say, you were surprised and more than a little bit pissed.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 6800~

Nine Years Starved

Synopsis: It had been a little over nine years since Helmut Zemo lost his family, his country, and his sanity. Nine years since his last kiss. Nine years since he felt like a human man. Finally, he was ready to start over again, but first, he had to pay his penance back where it all began; Novi Grad. That’s when, by the grace of the fates, he met you.

Rating: G

Word Count: 7000~

Daddy Dearest

Synopsis: Not everyone gets lucky enough to go from being a broke college student in New York to being the sugar baby to literal royalty, but not everyone is you. Most people would be worried about messing things up or losing him to someone else, but you knew he would never find another baby just like you. Besides, you knew exactly what to do to keep him wrapped around your little finger. He may have been the daddy, but you pulled the reins.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 8000~

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Synopsis: As a wanted man, Helmut Zemo spends most of his time jumping from place to place in the hopes of avoiding a trip back to prison. Unfortunately, that means he can’t always be home in your arms. When he is, though, in the rare moments of calm, you’re reminded of just how worth it it’s been to wait, even if that wait was only shortened by the arrival of your enemies.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 35,700~

Two Bodies In The Rain

Synopsis: It was raining the day you finally had to admit your feelings to Helmut. You hated to tell him the way you did, under the grey skies as your blood pooled below you, but at least you knew, in the end, he had seen the real you, even just once. That was enough.

Rating: T

Word Count: 5600~

Rest

Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3200~

American Horror Story

Jimmy Darling

Red Nights In Jupiter

Synopsis: At the end of another long day, you fall into bed with Jimmy Darling. The men you served throughout the day don’t matter then, nor do the coins in the mason jar by the door, or the women scheduled to attend Jimmy’s next Tupperware party. No, in that quiet darkness it’s just you and the man you love, bone-tired and happy to be home. Who could ask for more?

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3000~

James Patrick March

Heartsick

Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3700~

In Sickness And In Health

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5500~

Fallout 4

Currently Empty

Star Wars

Currently Empty

Assorted/Random

Currently Empty

Long Form Works/Series

Young Artist!Zemo AU

Chapter One: The Boy With The Easel

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Rating: T

Word Count: 7000~

Till Forever Falls Apart (A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Chapter One: Welcome Home

Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2400~

Chapter Two: The Doctor Is In

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Rating: T

Word Count: 2800~

Chapter Three: It’s Always Been You

Synopsis: After a month of adapting to his new universe, Peter Maximoff can confidently say that he likes his new life more than his old one. Sure, he misses home sometimes, but he’s been far too busy flirting with his new roommate to spend time crying over the things he’s lost. Everything is smooth sailing until a strange journal in his roommate’s study leaves him with more questions than he knows what to do with. Now he’s on a mission to discover who he’s really living with before she has the chance to turn against him.

Rating: T

Word Count: 8600~

Chapter Four: Before You Go

Synopsis: Peter, after days of contemplation, has realized that part of him loves Y/N no matter what she is or what she’s been through. Unfortunately, he can’t find her anywhere. When she finally returns home with the intention of leaving again, Peter realizes it’s his last chance to tell her how he really feels. Will he succeed, or will he fail to be fast enough once again?

Rating: T

Word Count: 4000~

Chapter Four And A Half: Gimme Swayze

Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.

Rating: T

Word Count; 2600~

Cakes For The Evans: A Blogging And Baking Adventure!

Kai Anderson’s Disaster Cake

Hey you! If you’ve made it this far down the list, thanks for supporting me as an author! I’ll be linking my AO3 here. I post everything there shortly before I post it here, and there are some older fics there you might enjoy along the way! It’s also easier to drop comments over there and I keep them open for non-members, so give me a shout if you liked what I wrote!

I love you all, you make me so happy, and without you support I would never be motivated to write! Cheers!

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alexiethymia · 3 years

Text

A Case Study on Vanitas’ Character: On Vanitas’ Two Conditions

Since they’re animating the What is Love? episode next (episode 7), I couldn’t help but want to talk about that chapter. [spoilers for anime-only watchers!]

Vanitas has two conditions for Jeanne:

1) She mustn’t drink blood from anyone else but him.

I admit that like Jeanne, it’s easy for me to fall into the trap of thinking Vanitas is a better guy than he is because of certain biases. Let’s admit it, this part was plain blackmail, and yet for some reason, with what we know of Vanitas now, there are also different ways of seeing this scene.

Vanitas is ‘blackmailing’ Jeanne, but at the same time that blackmail is actually him also offering a solution to Jeanne’s problem. AND YET, HE DOES IT IN SUCH A WAY SO THAT JEANNE NEVER HAS TO FEEL LIKE SHE OWES HIM. More to the point, he does it in such a way to ensure that Jeanne continues hating him. In other words he, in his own twisted way, is doing a nice thing for Jeanne, while ensuring that she never likes him for it. Now I’m not saying it’s a purely altruistic thing, but I still think that Vanitas is drawn to Jeanne because she reminds him of himself back then. If so he knows precisely how to get her to receive help albeit through manipulative means.

It’s not a purely altruistic thing. He states it so himself, what he gets out of it is the ‘divine feeling’ Jeanne sucking his blood gives to him again purposefully painting himself as a pervert so that Jeanne wouldn’t like him for helping her. But if we are to believe some theories that it’s not actually as enjoyable as he himself paints it out to be (I digress, but I think he’s being honest here. He strikes me as having a bit of a masochistic streak in him) (I digress from my digression, but theory time, what’s his bases of comparison?? Who besides Luna and Jeanne have drunk from him??), then there’s another dimension to his condition of ‘you must drink blood, only from me’. If he’s just in this for the feeling it gives him, then why word the condition that way? He’s never stricken me as possessive of Jeanne despite his words of ‘I want to possess all of you’, and as he’s stated, he doesn’t want Jeanne to love him back. I think this is just another case of his ‘use me’ mindset rearing its head again. He’s said it to Count Orlock, and we know that it started since his time with Dr. Moreau. It is definitely, definitely, unhealthy, and I believe it’s also coupled with his slight suicidal tendencies. If worst comes to worst and Jeanne ends up going out of control and killing him, he seems not to care.

Going off tangent here, but another one of his contradictions is how ruthless he is at surviving and yet how careless he is with his life, especially when it comes to people caring for him. He’d rather be left in the snow than have Jeanne take care of him as repayment for him protecting her, or when he got angry at Noe for protecting him from Ruthven.

But at his core and as Luna stated, Vanitas is a kind child. It’s developed in an unhealthy way, but he’s quite self-sacrificial. It’s fine for Jeanne to use him so that Jeanne has a focus or outlet. At least when the craving for blood gets to be too much, Jeanne knows there’s someone she can drink from, which helps her so that she doesn’t lose control and lash out against Luca for example. And on Vanitas’ side, it seems like it’s fine for him to be put at risk so other people don’t have to be, and on Jeanne’s part too, it also helps her from further hating herself if she ends up hurting other people.

In other words, his condition is both a selfish and selfless one, yet he paints it to be blackmail. It’s not an entirely good thing for him to do, because there’s definitely power play involved, but it’s also not as scummy as it is initially presented out to be with what we now know of his past.

2) For Jeanne to call him by ‘name’.

There are so many things going on here that I just can’t help but ramble about it. Firstly, I’m really interested in how this’ll be translated in the anime. Did Vanitas say call me by ‘Vanitas’, or call me by ‘my name’? Because if it’s the latter, then couldn’t Vanitas also mean (although not fully consciously) that he wants someone to call him by his true name like Luna did before he inherited the name ‘Vanitas’? (And I will just die if in a future chapter, Jeanne and Noe do end up getting to call him by his original name).

Second, there are slight parallels and contrasts with this arrangement he has with Jeanne and with the one he had back then with Moreau. Obviously Moreau is trash and took full advantage of ‘No. 69′. He exercised all the power. In this case, Jeanne is hesitant about hurting Vanitas despite how aggravating he is towards her. She doesn’t want to drink his blood at all. Moreau was a human. Jeanne is a vampire, and despite physically being superior towards Vanitas she changes her demand into a plea or request for Vanitas to keep her secret. (And whelp that’s when she sealed her fate, because she apparently triggered Vanitas. Don’t worry though Jeanne, you’ll get your payback soon enough). Vanitas was completely without power before, so faced with a similar situation this time around, I think part of him let the power get to his head, causing him to partly take advantage of Jeanne (he’s a complete sadist AND a masochist). He has complete agency this time around. Sure he’s once again offering himself with the expectation of pain and at the risk of his life, and he’s also doing this for another person, like with Misha, but unlike with Dr. Moreau, the power is on his side this time around.

Going off tangent, that’s one thing that Vanitas and Jeanne have to work on. Balancing power and agency. I get where Vanitas is coming from, surrounded by vampires as he is, and with his past too, but he has to realize that caring about and loving someone isn’t a matter of power. You don’t lose when you love and care. You don’t surrender power. You don’t have to take away someone’s agency or exercise your own power for you to manage to do good things for the people you care about. He has to manage that balance - likewise with Jeanne, Noe, and Domi as well.

Going back. Since he has full agency in this case, it’s his decision to offer himself to Jeanne in this way, he doesn’t want to be dehumanized while doing so. He’s had enough trauma about that already. Despite how he words it, it’s actually a somewhat equivalent exchange between Vanitas and Jeanne. He offers her blood as a way for her to keep her sanity, but she can’t be removed from it, she has to look at him properly and consider him a person with full agency and choices, and not just as ‘that human’.

And looking at their faces - Jeanne’s is an incredulous one as if to say, ‘that’s it?’ It’s both an easy and difficult thing for her to do. Meanwhile, for Vanitas, I’d expected him to look goading, but he just looks patient and soft. At least in this instance, I don’t see it as him forcing Jeanne to do something she doesn’t want to do - just an unexpected moment of wanting to be known and treated as himself.

LISTEN HE IS FULL OF CONTRADICTIONS OK. We’re led to believe that all of his interactions with Jeanne until the moment he realized he fell in love with her was just him teasing her, but I believe he was already in the process of falling in love with her slowly. I’ll go so far as to say that he was the one who fell in love first, but he just interpreted it as his being ‘excited’ by her. In other words, the words he said (’I love you’) which we thought was a lie was actually the truth, albeit a truth he didn’t realize much later.

Why do I think so? It’s because he revealed certain moments of vulnerability or sincerity with her or about her without any of the teasing, as represented by the italicized dialogue. It’s the same case for when he said he didn’t want to trod on her foot with Noe, or when he happily grinned and he said forthright Jeanne was the side of her he liked best (or when he promised he’d kill her).

This is just an example of his contradiction. He never wanted or expected Jeanne to fall in love with him, and sure this could just be his wanting to push boundaries or test limits, being the chaotic person that he is, and yet, wanting to be called by name is a desire to form a genuine connection.

He could have just remained as ‘that human’ to Jeanne while interacting with her. After all, what could stop him? He also had the first condition in place to make sure they’d continue to interact. And yet, he refused (like how Noe refuses to be ‘that vampire’ to him).

Like Luna said, as long as he didn’t close his heart, he wouldn’t be alone. Even if Vanitas thinks it burdensome or wants to be ‘free’, it seems that he still does long for connection - romantic, platonic, or otherwise.

And this is why I ship them, even in this instance so early on in the manga when arguably the dynamic wasn’t at its healthiest. It’s because of their background that draws them to each other and allows them an understanding of one another. It’s because of that desire to know more about each other. It’s because of that genuine care and wanting to form a connection with each other, despite part of them rejecting it because of their issues.

Do I think they’re good for each other? Yes. Admittedly, they have so much to work on, but I believe that they push (Vanitas with regards to Jeanne’s blood addiction, and Jeanne with Vanitas in his moment of vulnerability) because the both of them tend to be self-destructive if left to their own devices. It’s just that their version of care for each other is aggressive. They’ll have to find that balance though eventually. On Vanitas’ part he also has to be inspired by Noe that the kind of salvation a person wants may not be the best possible outcome, especially for those left behind. I’m not sure what Mochizuki sensei’s end message is suppose to be, but death I don’t believe is salvation.

tldr: Vanitas is a self-sacrificial idiot who longs for connections under layers of self-loathing (but he’s still an asshole), and VaniJeanne is a good ship which had the foundations laid down from the beginning.

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ashdreams2023 · 2 years

Note

I think abt this all the time

Loki being friends with a reader who grew up to be one of the palaces maids/servants and he isn’t really allowed to be friends with them anymore because he’s no longer young, and its frowned upon to be friends with palace workers? but when they’re older (like around thor 1) he comes across them sneaking away from their duties in the library and they sorta meet up there as much as possible and then fall in love?

im sorry if that too specific <3

Lovely, I posted a similar idea a while ago but definitely could write this, I change one tiny thing but everything is what you asked for I hope

Being Loki’s servant friend growing up includes:

You were brought into the palace too early in your life

It was basically the worst day of your life, since you were ripped off your family

That’s how things worked, your parents rebel against Odin and get punished

It was out of mercy from the queen herself that you were decided to be turned a servant instead of facing the same fate they did

Since you were young, you were given the position of the princes personal servant

They were alright but you didn’t feel like making friends with them

Thor was the one who dragged you and his brother into crazy adventures that will eventually lead you to getting in trouble

You lost the amount of times he was hurt and you and his brother had to lie about his injuries and say he just fell

That’s kinda how you started your bond with Loki

He was the smart, the one that like to learn and be careful about his own trouble he brings

And there were you sucking up any new information he’ll throw at you

He made living in the palace more barbel and fun

And when he got the god of mischief, it made a lot of sense but also it meant another thing

Loki was an adult and a prince

Odin did not want him to be spending his time with a servant

So you were ripped off of your title since childhood

You were sent to serve other important names in the palace and was told to never speak to him again

That would be the second worst day of your life

At least this time you were a grown up and he wasn’t actually dead

He wouldn’t notice but you’ll watch him from afar, hoping one day that maybe he will come looking for you

It stayed like that for years

Until one day during one of the huge parties the palace held from time to time

You were tidying up the library, because apparently nobody cared enough to put backs back on their shelves, even the teachers

"I swear these people are driving to retirement sooner than granted"

Loki was just trying to get some alone time, away from crowds and in his favorite place in this palace

When you look up from the mess in front of you, your eyes meet and it’s like time freezes

His beautiful green eyes stared into yours and your body moved by itself

"Loki!" You couldn’t help it, you jumped to his arms and he held you so tight

"Where have you been!?"

Quickly you realize that you haven’t seen the prince this close for almost 200 years and now he’s so much more grown and beautiful

"Gods, I missed you so much"

You two spend almost the enter night tidying up together and talking about whatever happened to you and his changes

Eventually this becomes your meeting spot

Every two days you’ll meet up, in the same time and just block the outside world, Loki would use his magic to lock the doors on you both

It felt like when you were little, when all you worried about was getting yelled at by Odin or scold by frigga

Though a few things changed

You looked at him longer, his features that became more sharp and his hands that became somewhat rougher due to battle

And one day, you found yourself asking the strangest question

"Can I give you a kiss?"

And you did

Your first kiss was with a prince, and you could tell he liked it

"Let’s do this often" he’ll say, his cheeks would be so red and flustered

And it went on like that, sneaking around to see each other, kiss hug and eventually even more

Than he found out about his true blood

Everything went down the hill after that

But you didn’t lose faith this time, you had a feeling he wasn’t dead and when it was confirmed that he wasn’t, you down on your knees and thanked the gods

He was back but locked up in a prison

You didn’t care

He would feel ashamed to see you at first but his mother would insist because she knew, she just never said anything

You heart shattered when you saw him and your cried

"I didn’t want you to see me like this"

"Oh shut up you drama queen!"

After that frigga took upon her own hands to protect you both from Odin and allow you to visit loki every single day until his punishment would be lifted

"I trust that you love my son, so you have my word"

"Thank you, your highness"

Loki is secretly planning to marry you when he’s out so be patient too

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki/y/n #imagine #loki imagine #mcu loki #mcu #headcanon #fanfic #loki

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twstheadcanons · 3 years

Text

Self-Indulgent TWST Geography

A long post of generalised geography headcanons for the world of TWST complete with continents for my own personal needs. The post divides locations by Continent.

Anyway why is there a homeland whose name is just the definition of a desert.

Continents (and ocean)

Errant - a western continent in Twisted Wonderland. Mzunguko - the second largest continent in Twisted Wonderland. Yalmae - the largest continent in Twisted Wonderland. Abíní - a continent West of Errant. Tridente Ocean - the largest ocean in Twisted Wonderland.

Errant

Rose Kingdom – a country in the western region of Errant. It isn’t a particularly large country, and traveling from it to its neighbouring countries is possible via buses or car. Crownsshire – a county in Rose Kingdom Crowns – the capital of Crownsshire. It is the town Riddle, Trey, and Che’nya live in.

Land of Pyroxene – a large country in Errant. Known for its cold, snowy winters and history with legends pertaining to five of the Great Seven. Waldburg – province Vil’s family is from. Largely influenced by another country within Errant. Argent – a province in Land of Pyroxene. Verre – a city in Argent. Trein and Cater are from here. Félicité Cosmetics originates here. Miroir – a province in Land of Pyroxene. Has a large outlet mall popular with fashion-lovers and shopaholics. The Ténèbres brand originates here. Enchantée – a town in Miroir. Jack and Vargas live here, whilst Vil and his father move here. Scharlachrot - a province in Land of Pyroxene. Epel’s Village of Harvest resides here, and is famous for its widespread organic produce.

Isle of Lamentation – island country, its popularised global name is a translation from the isle’s original Nísos Thrínos. It has robust technological advancements and is the homeland of the popular idol group On the Edge, known for having concerts with elaborate imagery and visual effects from some of the best technicians available. Due to legends of the God of the Underworld, dogs are extremely popular on the Isle of Lamentation. Kapnós – capital of the Isle of Lamentations where the Shroud family resides.

Valley of Thorns – an isolated country small in population, largely consisting of a large mountain range. The closer one is to where its Queen resides, the colder it gets. It is said the Valley of Thorns can go weeks with nothing but moonlight. Geimhreadh - technically the name of the forest near the Valley of Thorns’ mountain range, where the Queen makes her home at its peak. Its name spread to the residential areas nearby.

Mzunguko

Afterglow Savannah – country in Mzunguko, ‘Afterglow’ acts as a loose translation of its name, Baadaye. It lies in eastern Mzunguko. Famous for its royal guards and leading role in nature conservation. Kiburi – a county in the east of the Afterglow Savannah. Mwamba – capital of Kiburi, where the Kingscholar royal family lives. Maisha – a county in Afterglow Savannah, with its capital sharing the same name. Jioni – a town in Maisha. Ruggie and his family live here.

Manyoya – county in Afterglow Savannah. Well-known for a famously expansive library and a high population of avian beastfolk. Uzuri – a city in Manyoya, where Rook is from.

Yalmae

Land of Hot Sands – one of many countries in the continent of Yalmae,. Within the country, it’s referred to as Aldif’. Rich with its magical history and origins of astrology, Aldif’ nurtures Magicians skilled in divination. It has a vivid musical scene as well. Misbah - governate of Aldif’. Yatamanaa – capital of Misbah, a largely lucrative city within Aldif’ and city where Kalim and Jamil live.

Abíní

Port of Jubilee - a diverse nation where Sam’s family lives, owning an extensive emporium. A vast amount of cultures reside in Port of Jubilee, many sharing common ancestors and languages with one another. Nanm - province in Port of Jubilee. Sekrè - port town in Nanm that Sam is from. His family owns an impressive emporium popular with locals.

Tridente Ocean

Coral Sea - a sea within the Tridente Ocean. Many of coastlines range across countries within Errant, Mzunguko, and Yalmae. Beneath its waters lies a kingdom sharing the same name as the sea.

Name Trivia

Continents (and ocean)

Errant - the continent of Errant has the homelands based off movies such as Alice in Wonderland, Snow White, Hercules, Sleeping Beauty, Beauty and the Beast, and Cinderella. The name stems from certain scenes in the movie marking a particular moment the protagonists feel out of place or stray off the expected course.

Alice in Wonderland: Alice’s misadventures begin when she makes the decision to follow a strange rabbit, straying off the course of simply reading and studying as her sister wished, where the curious and at worst annoying strange creatures and nature of Wonderland take a turn when she meets the Caterpillar, who questions Alice’s place and identity, and the stress of her situation and being unable to return home overwhelms her emotionally.

Snow White - the horrific moment Snow White, in a state of panic, rushes through a dark forest, where her fears envision hidden horrors within the trees and wildlife.

Hercules - after refusing to listen to Phil’s warnings about Megara being in cahoots with Hades, Hercules faces the devastating fact that Megara (reluctantly) deceived him, and loses his superhuman strength and faith in himself.

Sleeping Beauty - shortly after meeting a man she falls for, Aurora becomes devastated and resigned to her fate being betrothed to a complete stranger out of responsibility for her future and country.

Beauty and the Beast - Maurice’s ventures through a mysterious forest consequently leads him to the Beast’s castle in a desperate attempt to escape cold, only to be imprisoned by the Beast for intruding, ultimately putting the story into motion. After Belle makes a deal to swap places with her father and free him, Belle starts off terrified and in over her head despite saving her father’s life.

Cinderella - after the mice’s hard work creating a fitting ballgown for Cinderella to enjoy the ball, her stepsisters ruin the dress and Cinderella’s chances of leaving her oppressive family’s home. Her distress and tears lead her to meeting the Fairy Godmother.

Mzunguko - “circle” in Swahili, the language prominent in Lion King’s names, lyrics, and Rafiki’s dialogue, as well as the official language of Kenya, where much of the movie’s settings take inspiration and blatantly feature. Taken from the iconic “Circle of Life” song.

Tridente Ocean - “trident” in Italian. Yes, I hear you. The author is from Denmark. The statue is in Denmark. The movie references the statue in Denmark. However the surname Ashengrotto and Azul’s mother running a ristorante screams Italian and there’s the overall edgy mafia vibe the Octatrio has going on. I win this one.

Yalmae - “shine” in Arabic (يلمع). I wanted a name that illustrated the vibrant, lively diversity of the continent’s many countries, cultures, flora, and fauna. Something akin to a name that inspires a welcoming feeling.

Abíní - “morning” in Navajo. I wanted a name that inspires energy and enthusiasm, like a sunrise in summer.

Homelands

Rose Kingdom

Crownsshire - just the most painfully English name I could think of. “Crown” refers to, naturally, the crown of the Queen of Hearts. Also decided to make the Rose Kingdom its own, smaller, more limited country, instead of allowing its apparent monarchy to leech off 20+ different countries Crowns - do you have any idea how genuinely shocking it is we don’t actually have a town here named this.

Afterglow Savannah

Baadaye - “afterglow” in Swahili. The official and native name of the Afterglow Savannah. Interestingly, my findings found translations of it meaning “future” as well, which I consider fitting. Kiburi - “pride” in Swahili, can refer to a ‘pride of lions’ or confidence (often overconfidence). Mwamba - “rock” in Swahili, alluding to the Pride Rock that Mufasa’s pride resides in. Maisha - “life” in Swahili. Jioni - “evening” in Swahili. This refers to where anywhere the sun doesn’t reach, Simba shouldn’t wander, because it’s too dangerous. Originally, I wanted to go with “Kivuri”, which means “shadow”. However when I went to double check that ‘shadowland’ was a thing in Lion King, referring to where the Elephant Graveyard is, it’s actually a song from the Broadway musica called “Shadowland”, sung by Nala (Heather Headley). It both mourns the desolate state of the Pridelands under Scar’s tyranny, and narrates Nala’s resolve to leave and find a way to save her people and their land. The song is absolutely gorgeous, solemn, and powerful, and contributes more than any live-action CGI Disney movie could ever come up with. Its instrumental composition features the melody lei-motif prominent in the animated film (yes, That song. the heartbreaking one). It’s one of my favourites in Lion King alongside “He Lives in You” and “Not One of Us” because I like the ones where the chorus goes off. Please just listen to the Lion King Broadway soundtrack it makes me cry with how gorgeous and heartfelt it is. Anyway in their money-grubbing ways I hope Disney puts the Broadway on Disney+ so some brave soul takes one for the team to pirate it Manyoya - intended to mean “feather”, but to my understanding it also encompasses “fur”. Uzuri - “beauty” in Swahili. Nothing too deep here, just something pertaining to Rook.

Land of Hot Sand

Aldif’ - “warmth” in Arabic (الدفء). Meant to allude to a comforting warmth, kind of hinting that the popularisation of “Land of Hot Sand” more or less leaves the official name lost in translation. Misbah - “lamp/light” in Arabic (مصباح), naturally referencing the magical lamp sought after throughout the movie. Yatamanaa - “wish” in Arabic (يتمنى). Meant to be bit a bit of a cheeky play on words. The “wish” inside the “lamp”.

Land of Pyroxene

Waldburg - Wald is "forest” in German. References the forest that Snow White runs away into after being warned of the Evil Queen’s intentions. Argent - “silver” in French. References Cinderella’s silver dress. Verre - “glass” in French. References Cinderella’s glass slipper. Miroir - “mirror” in French. References both the Mirror of Snow White and the enchanted mirror Beast gives Belle. Enchantée - “enchanted” in French. Ties into the theme of enchantments, curses, and charms prominent in French fairy tales, and specifically makes me think of the Enchanted Rose from Beauty and the Beast. Scharlachrot - “scarlet” in German. References the red colour that hides the infamous green of the poison apple’s true nature.

Isle of Lamentation

Nísos Thrínos - Greek for the isle’s name. Kapnós - “smoke” in Greek. References Hades’ iconic appearance surrounded by black smoke.

Valley of Thorns

Geimhreadh - “winter” in Irish. References the winter court of Unseelie fae in Celtic folklore.

Port of Jubilee

Nanm - "soul” in Haiitan Creole. References the importance of determination and drive prominent in Princess and the Frog.

Sekrè - “secret” in Haitian Creole. References Dr Facilier’s ulterior motives.

#twisted wonderland #worldbuilding headcanons

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indianamoonshine · 3 years

Text

Strawberry | Chapter 13 | Common Tongue

Summary: This chapter is titled after a Hozier song. Take that as you will.

Rating: M. If I see anyone minor interacting with this or hear of anyone reading it, I will block your ass.

TAG LIST: @t3a-bag @lumimon47 @dodgerandevans @hallway5 @dancingwiththeplanets @steeevienicks @orneryscandallousandevil @ficthots @gaiusfrakkinbaltar @reginagina-blog1 @loveme-tenderly @lastphoenixrising @rattlemyb0nes @rebellou @alljusthumans @gaiuswrites @lovecatsnotpeople @literallydontlook

“I’m a virgin,” you had said to him one night.

It meant nothing.

It meant nothing because, to him, you were the same with or without having slept with someone. Din knew that - had you chose him - it would be an honor. He would think no differently of you either way, and that even if the two of you never had sex, he was glad to have met you.

Now he thinks he may be addicted.

Part of him really wishes that you hadn’t gone this far; that the innocence would have lasted until whenever it was that he forced to leave. Because now he was in over his fucking head.

Behind the shed, you’d grabbed his hand and palmed yourself against the cotton of your underwear. The song of cicadas did a humbling job of masking your little pants or the way you whimpered beneath him. And, sure, Din did everything in his power to break traditional norms, but he wasn’t going to fuck you behind a shed for the first time. His heart broke when he separated himself from you and you whined underneath your breath in protest.

“Come on,” he huffed, lungs attempting to keep up. “Let’s go.”

Three minutes.

That’s how long it took to run from the main house to the cabin. Three goddamned minutes was a record. You don’t recall running that fast since becoming an adult. If your high school gym teacher has witnessed the velocity in which you just sprinted, she’d be amazed.

It was good old fashioned motivation.

Fortunately, Din’s barely taken his hands off of you so he managed to catch your clumsy ass when you tripped over the lip of the front door. The two of you had chuckled against the other before he asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you giggle. You place a hand upon your cheek in feign distress. “But I think I may need to lay down…”

Your tone, which is laced with suggestive demure, has Din raising a brow. “Oh yeah?” he growls.

You nod sweetly, lips still pressed against his. “Mm hm.”

You’re so goddamn beautiful.

When he presses you against the plushness of the sheets, he admires the way your hair fans about you and frames your face. Your cheeks are flushed and your lips plump from his kiss, the natural pout of them more pronounced now that he’s bitten and sucked at the flesh. The brilliance of your skin glows beneath the yellow light, neck joining the expanse of your bust which heaves with endurance. He kisses down your pulse point until he reaches the neck of his t-shirt.

His t-shirt.

“Can I?” he whispers against the hollow of your neck, fingering the edge of the fabric.

“Yes.”

You’ve never been this exposed to anyone other than the occasional friend (when changing) or your sisters (also when changing). It’s been so long since you’ve gone outside of yourself - into the very thick of reality - so when he asked if he could reveal you to it, the urgent “yes” surprised yourself.

Still - it’s another kind of anxiety; not violent, but in the way. When he’s stripped the shirt from your body - carefully, as though he were unwrapping a priceless antique - it’s a natural instinct to cover yourself, confident of the way you weren’t.

“Take all the time you need,” he whispers against the flesh of your neck. “I’m a patient man.”

It should’ve been enough and maybe in an alternate universe it was. Maybe that version of you threw all misogynistic beauty standards out the window into the night, but in this present day-in-age, you took a minute to go over the mental checklist. What if you weren’t to his standards? What was the situation like down there? What would you do if he wasn’t all that you decided him to be?

How long would it take to heal from that?

Before your mother died she took your hand and made you promise: I will do everything I can to feel joy, as fleeting as it may be. There are lessons to be learned. She’d made you chant it in a monkish way, as though preforming a ceremony in the sterility of a hospital room strung with cheap tinsel and a sad, plastic tree at her bedside. You’d understood what she meant then like the way a student might understand the components of Ancient Greek; not until it is utilized can its full potential make any sense at all.

The philosophers - and your mother - be onto something.

Something like a muffled version of his name slips lazily through your lips. And while it’s dissected, pulled apart with a lazy and tense breath, it’s the first time his name has sounded poetic. Din never thought of himself this way; that his person could ever inspire such an organic response as the way you unwound beneath him. He’s laid with women before - three, he thinks - but he’s not positive he’s ever experienced a woman before.

Xian was good at what she did and she knew it; Din wasn’t oblivious to that but it lacked a certain something. The other times his body has been weaved together with another’s was faceless; just hookups he’s tried so desperately to forget. Hazy nights in which he woke up to in the morning, their backs to him, and identity indistinguishable. Eventually he just stopped trying.

It wasn’t until now with your fingers clutching at his hair that he realized how the act - the very dance itself - could be purifying. How it could wash away the very worst of similar experiences and how it made something that always felt cheap now priceless. The body is a temple, his elders would always say, and it never made any sense to him. The body is a fortress made to withstand hurricanes and torpedos. It was no place to kneel, to worship, to inspire anything other than sheer refuge.

How ironic, as kneeling was the very thing he was doing now.

Irony wasn’t the word. Fateful, he supposes, as he tastes the fruit that’s always been so forbidden to him. Your thighs clench around his head and the fingers that have been stroking his hair grip the sheets, white knuckling the starched weave, until a gasp is caught in your throat. And then there is nothing but the pressure of ignition until it crumbles around you, fizzing the air with something akin to champagne bubbles.

There is no nasally whine that follows afterwards like there always had been before you. No wild “yes!” that pollutes the air. Just the instability of a weakened chest, the grasping at air, and the delicious feel of your hand enveloping his after having pulled it from your sex.

You weren’t a stranger to penetration though this was was with exceptions; no one had ever done anything to you with foreign or, well, domestic objects. At the age of eighteen, your friends at the time had dragged you to the building on the east end of town that never officially existed until legality said that it did. La Boudoir Rouge was the place ‘vodka aunts’ went to cure the blues, bought mysterious items, and then hid the pink bags in the back of their closets.

So, yes; sex was a foreign exchange policy you’ve never found yourself involved in, but you knew the dynamics. You’d bought equipment and even enjoyed it more than you’d initially expected. Penetration wasn’t at all strange to you.

This made it easier, you think, as Din finally slides in. There was a stretch of course, and it took you a moment to get comfortable enough to brave any movement. Din drops his forehead upon yours, letting out a strangled breath through his nose, as you struggle to come to terms with the size. He’d given off an energy but…

“It’s so big,” you gasp once he reaches the spongey part of you. It feels stupid, it falls short on a botched intake of breath, but it’s the truth.

Din’s composing himself, silent in his endeavor to mold himself within you. His arms are pressed on either side of you, body flush against yours with his pelvis meeting your pubic bone. There’s another moment of silence before he kisses at your temple.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

A smile graces your lips, though your eyes are clenched. “That’s an understatement.”

The pace is fast, sweat inspiring. It drips down your neck until it falls in the valley of your breasts and Din wants so badly to lick it from your skin, but he’s too distracted by the way you clench around him. It’s ironclad - it’s the best goddamn pussy he’s ever had.

He wants to tell you that but he’s unsure of how you’d react. You’ve been letting out delicious gasps and moans reaching an octave you’d never reach sober, but not you’re coherently vocal enough for him to say it outright.

And then you breathe it in a pathetic whine: “It’s yours, Din. It’s yours.”

He almost stops, but his body is hellbent on seeing this through. Whatever the fuck this was; a spiritual experience maybe. Perhaps he’d died after the last mission - broken and buried underneath mounds of dirt - and now rests in paradise where he fucks his way through eternity.

A raw, animalistic response possesses him, the fistful of flesh from your hips is replaced by the swell of you cheeks. He embraces you softly, but sternly enough to incite a whimper.

“What was that, chica bonita, huh?”

You throw your head back as he slams his hips against yours with more force, the excitement conjuring a great wave of adrenaline coursing through his veins. You try to speak but it fails to materialize.

He was balls deep and you were still shy by your interjection.

“What’s mine, sweet girl?” he whispers, mouth tickling along your collarbones. The contrast of gentle words and barbaric thrusts is something he’s never experienced during sex. Ever.

You let out one more mouthwatering whine before saying: “My pussy is yours, Din. Take it. Please, please…”

Suffice to say, that’s what does it. The two of you cum at the same time, like a synchronized dance, clutching one another so tightly it leaves red ribbons. Your fingernails had dug into his forearms and his at your waist in which his hands wrapped around. He lets out a deep, broken growl as you whimper, shaking like a leaf, and he pulls out just in time to paint your belly with pearlescent threads.

He collapses on top of you, knocking the wind from your fragile body. You’re absolute jelly beneath him, crumbled into bits, and would never be the same. Let’s stay here forever, you want to tell him.

Din presses his face into the hollow of your neck, listening to the rapid pulse beneath flushed and thin skin. Then he kisses the blood flow beneath once, twice. “My gorgeous girl…”

Stay with me. Stay with me.

You wrap your arms - which have settled from the convulsions - around his neck and hug him tightly against you.

Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.

#din djarin x reader #din x reader #strawberryfic #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din x y/n #din x you #mando x y/n #mando x you

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