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johnconstantinesdick · 4 years ago

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Okay *cracks knuckles, accidentally dislocates fingers* @agentscamander-romanoff and @steel-phoenix took the bait and enabled me by asking me to elaborate on my Children of the Watch origins theory. Which means I am about to go ABSOLUTELY feral.

Apologies to anyone for having incorrect Star Wars lore, I’ve barely consumed canon content and I don’t intend to start now. Also sorry if anyone has already said this! I’ve never seen this particular theory/interpretation and it’s made me go a bit insane.

Warnings: discussion of child abuse, cults, and the aftermath of genocide. I don’t go super in depth on any of it but it’s there. Also, I typed this in the notes app of my phone and autocorrect hasn’t quite submitted to some of these names.

SO. I’m going to break this up into sections. 1. Exploring canon 2. Extrapolations/Connecting the red string 3. What does this MEAN??? 4. Complaining about Bo-Katan.

First off, though, here’s my thesis: Children of the Watch is a “splinter group” made up of the children that Death Watch stole, indoctrinated, and abused. They’re also not a cult (Death Watch is though lmao).

1. Exploring Canon:

Okay, so. Canonically, Death Watch has abducted, tortured, and brainwashed children. Arla Fett is an example of that, having been abducted at the age of 14 after her parents were killed and she was subsequently brainwashed into becoming an assassin for Death Watch. She didn’t even hesitate when she found out her brother was alive! That’s how strong the conditioning was! She was so fucked up from it that she spent YEARS in a mental facility, and she outright begged a Jedi to wipe her memories in exchange for a favor. DEATH WATCH DID THAT. And you CANNOT tell me she was the only one they’ve done this to. PLENTY of fic writers have extrapolated off of this and mentioned it, but it’s important to me that everyone know this shit is absolutely rooted in canon.

Another Death Watch Child Abuse Fun Fact: Dred Priest and Isabet Reau, two of the trainers of the clones, canonically had Death Watch leanings and tried to instill Death Watch beliefs in the clones by FORCING THEM TO FIGHT EACH OTHER IN SECRET BATTLE CIRCLES THAT ENDED UP KILLING SOME OF THE CLONES. THEY WERE CHILDREN AT THE TIME, IF IT WASN’T CLEAR. WHAT THE FUCK. If THAT’S not an example of Death Watch abusing the kids under their care then I don’t know what is. It’s suuper not a stretch for me to think that this wasn’t an unheard of thing in more official Death Watch circles.

Also canonically, Bo-Katan has referred to Din’s covert as “Children of the Watch”, and Din, despite obviously being an important and respected member of his community, doesn’t recognize the name, which implies to me that it’s not a name the covert chose for themselves. Rather, a moniker that was given to them after they splintered off of Death Watch. Since this isn’t an opinion and it’s more just… information, I’ll trust Bo-Katan on this one.

We also know for sure that Din’s covert IS connected to Death Watch in some way, seeing as the flashback sequence very clearly shows Mandalorians in blue and gray beskar’gam, the colors of Death Watch. HOWEVER… the Armorer, who seems to hold a high position of authority in the covert, wears gold and copper beskar’gam. Din wears unpainted (v2) or mismatched colored (v1) beskar’gam (I do grant that his paint color counts less towards this because he’s pretty much one of the only people interacting with the outside world and so colors associated with Death Watch are probably a no go no matter what). Paz Vizsla’s armor is a very dark blue with yellow and cyan details and, oh my fucking god I didn’t even know this but he has a fucking MYTHOSAUR SYMBOL ON ONE OF HIS PAULDRONS. THE FUCK???? THAT’S LITERALLY THE SYMBOL OF THE TRUE MANDALORIANS IM. Ok. Okay. I needed a minute. Like I KNOW that the mythosaur skull is Mandalorian symbol in general but I think it just hits different when a Vizsla is wearing it, you know? Especially because the placement is the same as Jaster Mereel’s???? Literal founder of the True Mandalorian movement????? Excuse me???????

Let’s uh. Let’s get back to armor. I can address that… later. So. Anyway. Armor is super important, and it’s uhhh very telling that the covert doesn’t emulate the Death Watch colorscheme strictly. Like, yeah, there’s gray and light blue in there, if you go through some wiki pages, but they’re not the only colors they use, and the Armorer doesn’t even have either of those colors! And she’s the biggest authority we’ve seen! Very fucking interesting!! Bo-Katan still has her armor painted in Death Watch colors! And yet she’s derisive of Din’s covert! Verrry interesting!

We also know that Din’s covert emphasizes children VERY much, more than Death Watch ever would have, imo. It’s expected for the adult members to provide for the foundlings (and it’s VERY interesting that the kids are seemingly all referred to as foundlings iirc. More on that later.), and even though Paz disagrees with Din working with the empire, he and the other members of the covert immediately and with no hesitation come to Din’s aid for this child that Din hasn’t even claimed as his own—it’s amazing! And I will note that Bo-Katan and her warriors do the same upon their initial meeting with Din—Koska dives into danger with no hesitation as soon as Din says the child is still in danger. We see that this solidarity does come at a price for Bo-Katan, though, while the Armorer sees protecting a foundling as a duty that is completely worth all the trouble it brought.

Fascinating also that Boba was 100% on board to help out Din to save Grogu past what Din or anyone else would have expected of him, while Bo-Katan had to be bribed into coming by the promise of Moff Gideon and the darksaber. And she thinks she’s somehow more Mandalorian than him.

And NOW, going way back in time to the beginnings of the True Mandalorian movement, we know that Jaster Mereel originally authored his Supercommando Codex by looking back through history to the Canons of Honor and the Resol’nare, and he took those ideals and ideas and he modernized them to create a set of moral guidelines to follow. And people loved that shit! Death Watch had to infiltrate the True Mandalorians and then trick the Jedi into slaughtering them just to get rid of them, because Jaster’s charisma and his sexy sexy morals were too strong. (God. I fucking LOVE Jaster Mereel if you couldn’t tell.) Anyway, there’s precedent for Mandalorians looking back to their history to bring forth old ideas, repurposed to a modern context. We also know that, canonically, Din’s covert follow the “old ways” of not sharing names and of never taking their helmets off in front of others.

Moving on.

2. Extrapolations/Connecting the red string:

So if we extrapolate from the fact that Death Watch are, uh, super fucking abusive towards the kids that they stole/their own kids, then we’re left with… this group of kids, who have been mistreated and indoctrinated for a LONG TIME, and possibly don’t have that great an understanding of non-toxic Mandalorian culture. And if they’ve been abducted or rescued, whatever, they might not fit back in with the places they were taken from, or they may not have a place to go back to, or they may not even remember where they’re from originally. It’s some prime angst material! Good stuff.

And if we pull the implication from the names that “Children of the Watch” is a splinter group off of Death Watch, it really does make you think… huh, you know what? These two things may be one in the same. Maybe.

And, like, we know that Jaster Mereel and Din’s covert both looked to Mandalorian history to find pillars for their community’s morals. Jaster did so in the middle of a lot of political turmoil, as a way to say “Hey, we can still be Mandalorians in the ways that matter, but being Mandalorian doesn’t mean being a morally bankrupt conqueror. We can have honor and still wear armor and fight and uphold the Resol’nare.”

And I think Din’s covert did so when they were struggling with unlearning the toxic ideals that had been shoved onto them by Death Watch. I think they had to figure out their own way of being Mandalorian or else they would have crumpled under the pressure. And so they looked back to the old ways and picked out the more extreme interpretation of Cin Vhetin (clean slate) which says that, once you swear the Resol’nare and become a Mandalorian, your past doesn’t matter, it’s what you do now that does. You don’t take off your helmet, and you don’t let others know your name, because those things don’t matter to who you are and what you do. (There’s also the issue of the helmet and name rule being an important defense tactic to protect the covert, seeing as how Mandalorians post-Empire are the survivors of genocide. There’s already a fantastic post on it here)

Related, another Mandalorian saying is “Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la.”, meaning “Nobody cares who your parent was, only the parent you’ll be,” which IMO fits in very nicely with how I’m interpreting Din’s covert. It’s all about your actions and future mattering more than your past. I think that when the covert was splitting off and being built, this would be a huge component of them healing. Because the way they were treated and indoctrinated by Death Watch doesn’t have to affect their future actions. They don’t have to perpetuate the cycle of abuse, they can build a covert and a community around caring for foundlings.

Now, onto the foundlings! I find it very interesting that, whenever the covert’s younglings are mentioned, it’s always as foundlings. I think this implies that there’s a focus on saving and raising children more than there is on sharing blood with them, and I think that the covert would be more inclined towards communal raising than typical family units, if only to keep everyone in check and to protect the children from ever being treated as they were. I also find it VERY interesting that there’s a lot of emphasis put on returning children to their own kind. I don’t think Death Watch would have employed that practice, and I think that’s another example of the covert wanting to make their community a better place for children. I think it’s likely a lot of them didn’t get that choice, and they had to leave their cultures and people behind. And so they want to give that choice to their children.

I think it’s also amazing that, like. They keep finding and raising children instead of deciding they’re too damaged or whatever to have kids. Because it doesn’t matter if they have baggage or trauma when a child needs them. That’s FANTASTIC. I’m losing my MIND. It really doesn’t matter who their parents were to them, just the kind of parents they will be. It’s all about breaking that cycle and deciding to be better and I LOVE THAT.

3. What does this MEAN???:

Well. What this means is that Din’s covert has a very clear set of motivations and structure when it comes to how their covert is run. It’s not a cult; in fact it is specifically a group created by cult survivors who are determined to not do to others what was done to them. The rules may seem weird and strict at first glance, but they have a clear purpose and rationale, and no one is trying to amass power. They’re just… trying to do better, and be better.

(This also means that I’m 99% sure that, with the assistance of time travel, at least half of the covert would be SUPER INTO Jaster Mereel. I like to imagine that Paz had, like, a poster of him on his little sewer bedroom wall. I fully believe he painted that mythosaur skull on his pauldron in honor of a good man who was killed by Paz’s own relatives for standing by his morals and daring to try to reform and rally Mandalorians. I also think it would be funny if, like, Din doesn’t know shit about ANYTHING to do with modern history, but Boba mentions that his grandfather is Jaster Mereel and Din is like “OH I KNOW THAT GUY! Yeah he’s cool, he’s the historical crush of like, my entire covert.” And Boba is like. What.)

It also means that it can be up in the air about whether Din was found by Death Watch before his covert splintered off, or if his covert was still just wearing Death Watch colors when he was found. Fun thing to play around with, but right now I don’t want a solid timeline.

Hmm just thought I should add: while the Armorer does seem to have a position of authority, I don’t think the covert can be structured politically with clans and houses like other Mandalorian groups. Like, clan just means family in this context, and is less a part of hierarchy, and I don’t think they would even recognize houses within the covert? Like they MIGHT decide to call themselves part of House Djarin now that Din is Mand’alor, but before that they weren’t like. House Vizsla with Paz as the leader just because they used to be Death Watch. I don’t vibe with that. This isn’t really super relevant, I just wanted to add it.

4. Complaining about Bo-Katan:

Anyway Bo-Katan is absolutely full of shit and it’s doubly disgusting that she’s standing there in Death Watch armor, seemingly still allied to this fucking cult of imperialism and conquest, and she accuses Din of being in a regressive cult, and she implies that the way he engages with the Resol’nare is wrong and like. Repressed or something. God I hate Bo-Katan. But I love to hate her. She’s horrible but I want her to be included in the list of Din’s friends but not the list of people he’d trust his kid with. I have contradictory Bo-Katan feelings, whatever. The most important thing is that all of her opinions are horrible, like, all the time. And we shouldn’t trust her when she says Din’s part of a cult. Literally why does anyone take that at face value. If we’re taking her word as the authority on Mandalorian issues then I guess Boba and Jango aren’t Mandalorian!!! Seriously.

TLDR; Din’s covert (aka “Children of the Watch”) is made up of survivors of childhood abuse, torture, and brainwashing at the hands of Death Watch, and they’re dedicated to making sure their children don’t go through the same thing. They’re not a cult, but Death Watch sure was! Jaster Mereel is the love of my very aromantic life and Bo-Katan’s opinions can’t be trusted. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

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djcarnationsblog · 3 years ago

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Circus!Ibvs- Edward's Early Morning Practice - Slight Isward

Edward needed to practice first thing in the morning, it was his normal routine.

Sometimes Edward had to wonder why the norm had to be so strict. He didn't dwell on it though, heels clicking as he walked through the circus. Nobody should be up at the time, the sun hadn't even begun to rise, so Edward was all alone. It wasn't like he minded though, who cares if nobody was up, no one but Barry would have even considered being around him anyways.

Edward stifled a small yawn as he treaded casually through the grass, passing tents and empty stands as he went along. Combing through his hair, Edward spared a few glances around the place, as if hoping he'd see something so early in the morning. And of course, there was nothing different, just him, the tents and the outdoors. Not a single soul in sight...

Edward slowed down, staring down at the dew covered ground.

Who was he trying to fool? Of course he wasn't fine with being alone, it hurt. It hurt that nobody wanted to be around him, and he wasn't taking Barry's kindness for granted, not at all. He just wished the other performers wouldn't judge him so harshly. He was the ring master after all, and yet nobody wanted to give him an ounce of respect!

No, Edward knew they would never give him any respect, he simply hadn't earned it yet. But how was he supposed to do that? Nobody would believe what he tried to tell them, saying he was spouting all this bullshit- it was far from bullshit! Edward knows what he's doing, they just won't believe him.

The teen clenched his teeth, hands balling into fists as he stomped off hastily, not wanting to dwell on it anymore. He didn't want to think about it, less he get even more riled up then he was already. Edward let out a growled breathe as he ran a hand through his hair, gripping and pulling at it for a moment before smoothing it back out. It took a bit of walking to arrive at his tent, the exterior colored in blue and red with a few yellow accents.

He took a moment to stare it down, foot tapping against the ground as he narrowed his eyes. Stepping onto the concrete, he walked over and pushed the curtain aside, strolling inside. It was rather dark in the enormous tent, but Edward easily maneuvered through the inky black, knowing where the light was. A few steps later and he came across the light button, letting out a tiny huff as he pressed it.

The lights came on instantly, the ringmaster squinting his eyes a bit from the sudden brightness, scowling as he did so. Once his eyes had adjusted, Edward walked over to the control panel, turning it on as his eyes wandered to the netted hoop hanging from the middle of the tent. Whirling sounds started up as contraption shook a bit, jostling the hoop as it was brought down.

Now he just had to select the song he'd been practicing with since last week. His next performance was to happen by Monday at twelve o' clock and end by four two weeks later, but he'd gotten atleast most of it down already, he just had to get the end sequence right and he'd be all set to just go through the motions. He'd practice the expressions afterwards.

Edward stopped for a moment, cursing under his breathe as he left the podium where the control panel was. He'd forgotten to set up the safety net, God knows what could happen if he forgot, there was no way he was asking Drew to heal him. Finding his way to the supply closet, Edward fished for the key on the top of the door frame, quickly slotting it into the lock and unlocking it.

Placing the key back were it was, Edward opened the supply closet and wandered inside, flicking on the light and looking around. It took a bit of digging through various hoops, whips and other equipment before he found it, pulling it out and holding the bundle under his arm as he turned on his heel, walking back out. as he made his way to the one side, Edward uncurled the net and began to flap it out, going over to one of the metallic rods placed in the ground.

Finding the corner of the safety net, Edward hooked one of the holes on the rod, repeating that a few more times before he backed away. Thankfully there was a smaller platform on the rod to ensure that the net didn't slide down it, so he didn't have to worry about that.

It didn't take much effort to finish securing the the net, hopping up onto it for a test run. He looked down at the net, noticing how his heels didn't fall through the stretchable holes. He found it pretty funny how lucky he was when wearing heels, he had yet for them to fall through any holes. Edward let out a small snicker, casually making his way to the other side of the net, passing his hoop with an unvolentary bounce in his step from the bouncy net. It worked a bit like a trampoline, which was another thing that amused Edward.

When he got back to the panel, Edward tapped his foot against the podium, searching on the recorded history of it for the song he had used. Thankfully it was somewhere near the top, so he didn't have to scroll through the millions of songs he had performed with before.

Quickly taking a glove from the panel, he pulled on, glancing down at the button on the back of it before going back and selected the song he found, high-tailing it to the hoop as the machine started up. Edward made a mad jump as the hoop rose, latching onto the bottom and pulling himself up to the top of it, balancing on it easily as it swung a bit from the force. Once it stopped swinging, Edward positioned himself just like before, waiting with anticipation for the music to begin.

'Lean On by Major Lazer, Featuring DJ Snake.' Spoke the robotic voice from the panel.

The beat began as the hoop swung, Edward following his routine as the music really started up. His mind got lost in the excitement, swinging through the air as he'd spine and dance on the hoop, his body flying through the motions effortlessly. He'd flip from the top to bottom, twisting and turning as he'd hang by even a single heel. Edward couldn't help but smile, even as he'd fly and swing so dangerously high, the adrenaline was exilerating and it was something he loved.

As he neared the end, he had to remind himself which part he had failed to get down, swift hands pulling himself down to the bottom of the hoop as he threw his lower half up, twisting his heel into the net of it. Edward took a deep breathe as he began going through the motion, letting his body swing over like all the other times he tried.

And just like all the other times, his heel came loose from the net. Just like before, Edward was sent hurtling for the safety net with terrifyingly fast momentum. And just like before, he let out a loud curse of surprise when he impacted it, bouncing for a moment as the music continued.

Giving a deadpan, Edward pressed the button on the glove with a huff of annoyance, the song stopping abruptly as the hoop came swinging down, Edward standing as he grabbed onto it.

'Repeat.' that same voice called out.

And so, Edward began the same shit. Going through the motion, flying through the sequence up to that same part. And he failed every single time, fall after fall, yet he'd start again and again, growing more determined by the fail. He had to have gone through the routine more then twenty times, not a single break being taken between each. He wasn't stopping until he got it down, Edward absolutely had to be ready for the next performance, he couldn't miss it. Not this time.

Minutes turned to hours, yet time never was revelant to Edward. At some point, Edward had tried changing his heels, from three inch to four, then four to five, five to six all the way up to his ten inch. Nothing seemed to help hook the heel to the net, and Edward became frustrated the more he tried. Different techniques to tie the net to his heel, Edward going through even his most complicated ones to help stay on the hoop.

And then he got stuck.

It wasn't intentional, maybe it was his karma for trying to tie the heel to the net too fast, but he got stuck either way. So close to his goal, but now he was just hanging there, eye twitching as he grit his teeth.

"DAMNIT!!" He shouted out, twisting his upper body to grab onto the hoop, grumbling under his breathe as he fiddled with the knot. One of the things he hated about tying it like this had to be the fact that he could barely ever remember how to undo it, which in turn only made his blood boil.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He growled lowly, hands becoming more jerky by every failed attempt. Should he call for help? Maybe Barry was around somewhere, some people should be up by now right? No, he didn't want to risk someone other than Barry coming to find out who the fuck was screaming so loud at a time like this, only to see their very own ringmaster caught in a net by the heel of his shoe.

He couldn't even take off his heel, the thing was belted securely to his leg with the aesthetic (that Edward will die with) of a lock on it that Edward locked for extra security. The key was on the panel.

Edward let out a frustrated huff as his body went limp, just casually swinging upside down as he tried to assess what he'd do now. How was he supposed to get Barry? He left his phone at his tent so he couldn't call, and even then he wouldn't have been able to reach it cause there was no way in fuckery he was gonna practice with his phone in his damn pocket. That thing would have been sent flying by the very first spin. So what was he supposed to do?

"This was not what I thought I'd see."

Edward jolted when he heard a familar voice, scowling as he looked over to the entrance to see a certain fire dancer at the tent opening. Why did it have to Beamer? Why in the name of everything did it have to be Beamer?

"Why are you here?" Edward muttered as Isaac strutted inside the tent, examining his situation with an indifferent expression. "I heard you shout. Didn't expect to see you like this though." He simply replied, arms crossed as Edward let out a gruff sigh. "Jesus Christ." Edward spoke, already feeling the blood rush to his head.

"Jesus Christ indeed." Isaac echoed as he went over to the control panel, Edward raising an eyebrow as he did so. "And what are you doing, Beamer?" He asked. "Getting you down, what's it look like?" He replied, looking over the panel for a moment as Edward scoffed.

"I'm surprised that you even have the decency to help somebody." He said as Isaac pressed a few buttons. "Well, I coooould just toss you around like a ragdoll..." Isaac trailed as Edward gave him a stern glare. "Don't you try it, Beamer." Edward spoke in a warning tone, much to isaac's unaffected attitude. "And what are you gonna do huh Error? Beat me to a pulp?" Isaac said as he leaned against the panel.

"You can't even touch me right now." Edward hated how right Isaac was, growling as his eye twitched. "I hope you get raped by an ostrich." He spoke, a deadpanned tone of anger laced heavily in every word. "And I hope you get mawled by a hippo, but that's just wishful thinking." Isaac rolled his eyes as he went back to messing with the panel. "Be careful with that Beamer, you don't even know how to use it." Edward spoke, hoping to all God Isaac didn't end up busting the damn thing.

"Oh? Well why don't ya tell me, all mighty 'ring leader'?" Isaac mocked as he looked it over again, trying to figure out how it worked. "Oh when I get the FUCK down there Beamer, your baby-making days will be over before they even begin!" The Ringmaster yelled out, to Isaac's offense.

"Wow okay, maybe I won't let you down." The fire dancer huffed as he got off the podium, Edward's face going white as a sheet at the realization. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he shouldn't have said that, fuck Beamer, fuck his anger issues, fuck life right now!

"Oh my God- FINE!! What do you want me to do!?" Edward shouted, his head beginning to feel a bit dizzy from the blood as Isaac turned around, a smug look on his face. "Don't be an asshole for a whole week, and give me a hundred bucks." He immediately said, stalking right back up to the podium as Edward inhaled slowly.

"Fine." He muttered loud enough for the other to hear. "Red button to the far left of the panel on the first row, third row green button at the far right, white button on the second row in the dead center, then hit the black button at the far right in the bottom corner."

Isaac followed those instructions to a T, the contraption jerking for a moment before the hoop began to lower down, much to Edward's relief as he touched down on the net. The blood finally escaped his head as he sat up, Isaac walking over as he began to attempt untying his heel from the net. Isaac hopped onto the net, casually strutting over and plopping down in front of Edward.

"Let me see that." He huffed, batting Edward's hand away (much to the other's annoyance) as he took to getting rid of the knot. They sat in awkward silence for a while until Isaac was able to get it off, Edward looking away with a small huff of embarrassment.

"I..." He trailed off, looking between Isaac and the net as Isaac rose a brow. "...Thank you." He grumbled, ears hot and cheeks flushed as he moved away, standing up walk back to the panel. "Wait, what?" Edward deadpanned and turned to look at a very confused and amused Isaac.

"We made a deal, Beamer. I don't break deals." He responded, turning his head away and getting off the net as he went over to the panel, grabbing the key as he sighed in defeat, ears still tinted a fresh red blush, completely unaware of the beetred dancer behind

"I'll go get my wallet."

******************** ******************** ********************

I say it now with confidence, Isaac has a thing for Edward in High heels, don't try and change my mind XP

#ibvs #circus!ibvs #onebizarrekai #isward #edward quinton #isaac beamer #isaac beamer versus the supernatural #Drabble #This was longer than I thought it'd be #but eh #more content I suppose #anyways #Isaac will always have a thing for Edward in heels in Circus!Ibvs #Edward hates breaking deals #new headcanons unlocked XD #Tw: Ostrich threat #you heard me right #Ostrich threat

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kafka-ish · 4 years ago

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without my enemy what would i do | r.t.

richie tozier has been announced to come to dinner and y/n doesn’t know if things could possibly get worse for her.

word count: 8.3k

warnings/included: !!TW!! mentions of suicide/attempted suicide, nsfw (smut, fingering, oral -- male receiving), enemies to lovers, bratty!fem!reader

a/n: this was in no way meant to glamorize/romanticize suicide or any topic relating to that so if that’s triggering for you either don’t read this fic or the end. also i was heavily inspired by freaky friday and some other fics i’ve read

y/n couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mom’s mouth that morning. It had started pleasantly. The two were sharing a fruit medley her mom had prepared the night before at the breakfast nook. But those eight words had ruined the rest of her day.

“I’m inviting the Toziers over for dinner tonight.”

The tea in y/n’s mouth must’ve fallen out because she had been scolded for soiling the white tablecloth. But y/n didn’t care. The only thing occupying her mind was the fact that Richie Fucking Tozier would be in her house.

“How could you do this to me?” y/n accused her poor mother who was now frantically sopping up the stained green tea from the white fabric which she had just bought. She supposed she could just switch out the cloth for the time being, but everything had to be perfect when the Toziers came over.

“I don’t understand why you have... such disdain for them,” her mom said calmly. She always had a way of keeping her heels in the ground while her daughter’s head was stuck in the sky. “The Toziers are a family friend,” she insisted.

“I don’t have an issue with all of them.” y/n got up and gently placed her plate and mug in the sink. She washed them thoroughly before exiting. “Just Richie.” She mumbled the last part under her breath as she made her way up the stairs. y/n still had to put on her school clothes and make her way to school—something she was going to do rather unwillingly now.

y/n and Richie went back—way back. The Toziers and y/l/ns have been family friends since the two were in diapers; always forced to play together while their parents had their Sunday luncheons, the awkward lets-be-partners-since-I-don’t-know-anyone-else in middle school. Sometime in between the summer of ‘89 and their freshman year of high school, something changed. Richie changed. He was still the funny guy who hung out in the back of the room making offhanded jokes, but he was also the guy who made it his mission to hook up with every girl who stepped foot in Derry.

And somewhere in between, maybe y/n changed. She traded her pastel sweaters for cropped, graphic shirts and tight-fitting tees. The pleated skirts she always wore were replaced by ripped jeans that hung low on her hips with the help of her trusty studded belt. And her virgin hair was highlighted to the roots ever since sophomore year picked up.

Maybe y/n changed.

It was after a long day of incessant chatter and a math teacher who couldn’t seem to stop talking about his ex-wife when the dismissal bell rang. y/n was then stopped in her tracks by the one and only, Richie Fucking Tozier.

“Hey, princess.” His eyes were hazy with smoke and she was sure the Marlboro in his mouth wasn’t his first of the day.

“What do you want, Tozier?” y/n was reluctant to actually stop walking so she could talk to the scum on earth also known as Derry’s resident Trashmouth. Her beat-up high tops scraped against the cement and the undone hot pink laces swung in every direction imaginable. How she hadn’t tripped over her own two feet yet was beyond Richie as he watched the girl in front of him with amused eyes.

Richie’s back slumped against the bricks that made up the walls of their high school. One foot was propped behind him on the bricks, the other planted firmly on the sidewalk. “Your shirt’s inside out.” His pink lips curled into a smirk as if he knew something she didn’t, and y/n’s frown turned into a scowl.

y/n looked down. He was right. Her favorite black shirt with neon red and yellow stitching of a guitar on the front was, indeed, inside out. But she wasn’t going to let Richie Fucking Tozier have the satisfaction of getting under her nails. Not like this, anyway. “Thanks.” She let out a breath, half to calm herself and half to let Richie know how annoying he was being.

But he knew.

“You’re wasting precious oxygen.” y/n’s glare flicked from his eyes to the cigarette caught between his teeth and Richie only smiled.

“What, from smokin’?” He took the, what Stan called, cancer stick out from his mouth with his index and middle finger.

“No, from breathing.” It was a lame comeback. y/n was never good at comebacks, but she felt her cheeks heat up and blood stir when a chuckle fell from his breath.

He hummed thoughtfully, “Hmm. Okay, sweetheart.” He stood up straight, now towering over an uptight and pissed off y/n even more. He took another puff from his Marlboro, waiting for her response. But she only plucked the cigarette from his mouth and stomped it out.

“Did you call me over to say something important or did you just wanna waste my time?” y/n should’ve just walked off before this conversation even started, but it was too late and she would curse herself forever for giving this boy the time of day.

She was met with a cloud of smoke in the face and she coughed furiously. His breath smelled like ashes and cinnamon Altoids. Richie Tozier had blown his stupid cigarette smoke in her face. And before she could tell him to fuck off or screw himself, his words rung in her ears.

“Your ‘rents contacted mine. Looks like I’m comin’ over for formalities an’ shit.” His features were still twisted in a sick grin that y/n wanted to slap right off him.

“Formalities doesn’t usually consist of the word shit,” y/n said and began to start on her way home. It was bad enough she was forced to spend an hour (or more) with him at dinner, she didn’t need to linger any longer.

Her feet dragged on the graffitied pavement harshly and her pissed-off-ness transferred from the front door to the dining room where her mom was already setting up. Her dad had yet to arrive home from work, which was at five o’clock on the dot. Their family ate at six.

“Are you still upset about this morning?” Mrs. y/l/n’s soft voice sounded condescending as she was too focused on polishing the fine china to see her daughter’s scrunched eyebrows and squinting eyes.

“Yes.”

y/n huffed and one of the highlighted pieces of her hair flew from her face when she did so. “This dinner is ruining my life. Richie Tozier is ruining my life. You’re ruining my life!” She cried. It might’ve been an exaggeration, but so be it. Her life was, essentially, ruined.

“Your life is ruined?” Her mother was in disbelief. “How so?” Even though she asked the question, y/n could tell she wasn’t interested.

“Because you’re inviting the Toziers over when I’ve explicitly told you how much I hate them.” A growl left her lips in a fairly animalistic way to which Mrs. y/l/n told y/n that hate was a strong word and to make sure she didn’t bring that attitude to the dinner table tonight.

“Why don’t you take a hot bath? You can blow off some steam.” She laughed, thinking about the absurdity of ‘cooling-off’ in a tub of hot water but y/n crossed her arms at her mom’s negligence. y/n’s mother finally looked up at her daughter, her eyes judging y/n’s outfit carefully. “I’d like you to change, too.” Mrs. y/l/n wasn’t really fond of her daughter’s recent style. She had always loved the soft cardigans and floral dresses she used to wear in her early years. Granted, she was the one who picked them out. But they were just so cute. Mrs. y/l/n didn’t understand the recent trend of choker necks and buying jeans pre-ripped and she knew she never would. She could only wish her daughter were the same cute, innocent little girl she knew from way back when.

y/n grunted, making it known that her mother was being unreasonable.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about my day? No, because you never do,” y/n mumbled only loud enough for her to hear.

It was after three hours of painfully solving logarithms (which was more like staring at the dreaded piece of paper until eventually expressing defeat), a long soak, and an outfit change when four faces arrived at y/n’s front door and Mrs. y/l/n called her down to greet the guests.

“Are you sure you want to wear that?” Her mother’s thin eyebrow rose skeptically at y/n when she saw—what she would call—the atrocity she was wearing.

y/n shot her mom the same look, unsure of what was so offensive about a black tank top and low-rise jeans. She could be so conservative. “I can change.” y/n didn’t feel like putting up a fight tonight, but her mother placed a hand on her shoulder before she could move.

“There’s no time, now.” y/n could tell she was about to break out in a scowl, but Mrs. y/l/n did a better job at containing herself than her. “Just…just get a jacket or something. I don’t know.” She pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation and y/n left before she could see Richie Tozier unabashedly walk in with his so-called ‘rents.

“Look who I found just as I was coming home, honey.” y/n overheard her dad kiss her mom on the cheek as she fished for her jean jacket in the coat closet. Gag me with a spoon.

“Maggie! Wentworth!” y/n watched her mom hug the two from the corner of her eye as she reentered the foyer wearing a jean jacket. “It’s been too long.”

“Indeed.” y/n found it hard to swallow her scoff and keep a neutral face.

“Yes. I’m so glad you invited us over tonight.”

Richie then appeared from behind his parents. His parents had also made him change, seeing as he wore a navy blue button-up (wrinkled, of course) and the only pair of jeans he owned that wasn’t ripped and reached his ankles. y/n suddenly felt embarrassed about wearing such casual clothes. It seemed as if everyone were dressed for the occasion.

“Oh my, Richie. You’ve gotten so tall,” A gasp left her mother’s red and overlined lips. She took a few moments to welcome the family, making her version of witty banter and repeating how it’s been too long. She then walked them to the dining room which was lit up by the chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Why her mother set up a candelabra in the center of the table still unknown to y/n.

“I see y/n’s still shy.” Wentworth chuckled as he took his seat and y/n could feel the blood rush to her neck and cheeks (is it getting hot in here or is it just me?) when she realized she hadn’t said anything since the Toziers arrived.

She took her seat across from RIchie and begun to pick at the green beans on her plate.

“Oh, Went, don’t be fooled. She’s not shy. It’s just her teen angst.” The words left y/n’s mother’s careless mouth and her daughter’s eyes widened at the statement.

“Mom!”

“Ah.” Maggie smiled at her friend knowingly before stabbing into the perfectly seared cut of stake that sat on her plate. “Wentworth and I know a thing or two about teen angst.” She tittered into her napkin and it was now Richie’s turn to shoot his mom the side-eye.

y/n tuned in an out of the Toziers’ conversation with her parents. The topics ranging from their jobs, newfound hobbies, and the best recipe for meatloaf. Surprisingly, y/n hadn’t heard a peep out of Richie throughout the whole meal.

“Wow, you have outdone yourself,” Wentworth said as he had just about cleared his plate.

“Oh, that’s not all. I baked a lemon meringue pie for dessert if you’ll stay.” It wasn’t as if Maggie and Wentworth were just going to leave after finishing their meal. That’d be too easy. They had both complied, exclaiming that they could already taste how delicious it was going to be. “y/n would you be a dear and go fetch it for us?” Her mother asked. “It should be in the kitchen. On the island.” y/n stood up from her seat, grateful to get away from the scene she felt trapped in.

“yeah, y/n. would you be a dear and go fetch?” Richie couldn’t help himself but take a jab at y/n as she was walking towards the kitchen’s entryway. She’d turn around to give him the finger if this were any other setting. Maggie turned to face her soon, silently scolding him and whispering that it might do him good to help her out.

Richie bit back a sigh while he got up and trudged his way to where y/n was.

His eyes roamed y/n’s delicate fingers that moved with grace and dexterity as she handled the sharp knife that sliced through the homemade pastry.

“Hey.” If y/n were any less skilled, she would’ve dropped the weapon, ruining her mother’s sugary creation.

“Jesus, Tozier.” She set down the knife. “Don’t startle me like that.” She made sure to keep her voice low, not wanting her mom to become suspicious.

“You’d hate me for knocking and you’d hate me for just standin’ around like a creep.” He shrugged and y/n brushed past him. She held the pie dish in one hand and a stack of plates in the other. “Lemme help.” His head tilted to the side and his doe eyes looked pathetic under the dim kitchen light.

“You are a creep.” But y/n complied, allowing him to take the plates so she could focus all her effort on the pie.

“I’m a creep?” Richie looked to her amusedly. y/n didn’t answer. Her lips were sewn shut as soon as she found herself back in the dining room with all eyes on her and Richie hot on her trail.

“Thank you so much, y/n.” Mrs. y/l/n awed at her own work and started to dish out the precut pieces onto the plates Richie set down. “Speaking of y/n—as if I don’t speak about her enough—did you know she recently won the Academic Excellence Award for both Math and English?” The enthusiasm in her mom’s voice was alien to y/n’s ears.

“That’s great, y/n.” Maggie looked to her with a sort of light in her eyes she never looked at Richie with. “Rich, you never told us about this.” Her fork started for the meringue on Jenny’s pie first; soon after it would make its way down to the actual pie part.

“I didn’t see the point in sayin’ anything.” His face was stuffed full of pie and he shrugged.

Both Wentworth and Maggie looked at their son with disappointment.

“We care.” Wentworth then looked at y/n reassuringly. “Don’t listen to him, y/n... Wow, Jenny, this is great stuff.”

Once more, y/n got up from her seat. She didn’t bother helping herself to a slice of her mom’s pie and if she had the option, she wouldn’t have bothered making an appearance downstairs. “Can I be excused?” She asked her dad in particular who nodded. A sympathetic look was plastered on his face which was also stuffed with her mom’s dessert.

“Hey!” This was the beginning of one of Wentworth’s many great ideas. “Why don’t you show Richie your awards? It seems our boy could use a new outlook on what an Academic Excellence Award actually means.” He gave Richie a firm pat on the back before he begrudgingly stood up and walked over to where y/n was already making her way up the staircase.

“I wouldn’t blame ya if you feel all hot an’ bothered,” Richie said once they reached the top of the stairs.

y/n’s nose wrinkled at his words and she could already feel herself frowning at his unwanted presence. “What?”

“Aw. Don’t be like that, princess.” He threw his arm around her shoulder and y/n felt an odd warmth heat her body that wasn’t from the doing of her flimsy jacket. “Everyone wants a chance at the Tozier.” He took his free hand, the hand that wasn’t resting on her covered skin, and pointed to himself with his thumb.

y/n was about to ask who everyone was, but she didn’t want to give Richie the chance to list off the names of the girls he’s done. “I don’t like you, Richie.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, babe.” The two were now in y/n’s room. y/n didn’t allow her eyes to meet his. Instead, found herself organizing her already tidy desk. The only thing on it was her homework from earlier and a slew of highlighters.

Richie, on the other hand, took it upon himself to take a tour. His long legs made their way across the perimeter of y/n’s room. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be found and if she had spent half the time she did cleaning to go to the attitude adjustment program his mom always talked about, maybe they’d get along better.

“Your room’s changed.” Richie was now admiring her trophy shelf. Above it hung multiple metals; all gold and he stood in amazement for a while. Richie had always been smart. His grades always surpassed his parents’ expectations, but he never tried. He never made a deal to push himself or shoot for the stars. He never got why awards were such a big deal. Hell, Derry didn’t even make a big deal out of them. But as his magnified eyes stared patiently through his coke bottle lenses at the shiny medallions and gold cups that were displayed proudly in y/n’s room, a part of him wished he had tried harder.

“Yeah.” y/n wished she weren’t so quick as she cleaned because that meant facing him sooner. “People change, I guess. The room’s just a part of the process.” She bit her lip and thought back to how things used to be. Richie and y/n were nowhere near close, but she hadn’t always hated him.

“y/n, I want you to meet someone,” Maggie Tozier said softly to a small girl who wore her hair in pigtails and a puppy dog face wherever she went.

y/n, who spent her days hiding behind her mom’s legs and was never the one to talk to people who weren’t her friends or parents, looked between Maggie and the boy standing next to her as she sat crouched in the grass in her backyard.

The y/l/n’s had invited the Toziers over for lunch and Maggie thought this would be the perfect day to introduce her son to their daughter.

“Hey!” Richie Tozier had always been a loudmouth. From when he was first able to speak, the Tozier household was filled with nothing but incessant chit-chat, whether or not it was worth listening to. Maggie and Wentworth loved him regardless. “I betcha can’t fit your whole fist in your mouth. I can-!” Richie unhinged his jaw and he was about to force his balled-up hand to the back of his throat until Maggie scolded him for being ungentlemanly. “Sorry, ma.” He looked down, discouraged until he caught a glimpse of y/n’s shy smile and the beginning of a laugh.

It would be the beginning of a beautiful friendship—maybe even more—both the Toziers and y/l/n’s had suspected.

How wrong they were.

Sure, Richie and y/n were ‘friends’, but they were the forced-acquaintance-like type. The only time Richie and y/n had any solid interactions with each other was when their parents had their lunch dates together and they served as the tag-a-longs.

At school, y/n found her own group of friends with Stacy Howards and Regina Carmichaels. Stacy was a pretty girl who found out about her love of cheerleading at an early age and even though the popularity got to her from time to time, she still knew where her loyalties lied. Regina was like y/n—quiet, reserved, and focused on her studies. But she didn’t wear anything that revealed above the knee, on account of, she wasn’t allowed. The three had been inseparable ever since the third grade.

Richie had seemed to find his own group, too. A young boy named Bill Denbrough who would grow into his looks and lead them through silly adventures, Stan Uris (one of the only Jews in Derry), and a hypochondriac whom Richie called ‘Eds’, short for Eddie Kaspbrack. But his group would only continue to grow while y/n’s would stay because while seven’s the lucky number, three’s company.

y/n exhaled sharply, recalling how things used to be. The simpler times. She looked over from her desk to see Richie, whose hands were tracing the raised words scrawled on the metal trophy.

Perfect Attendance Award (1989-1990)

“Don’t touch my stuff!” She shouted and a startled Richie pulled his hand away shakily but also clumsily, causing the golden cup to fall from its stand and the others to shift. They were now slightly askew from their original place. y/n cringed at the sound of the award hitting the hardwood floor; certain that would leave a mark.

“Sorry,” Richie mumbled insincerely while he bent down to pick it up. He recklessly put it back and it was definitely not in the position it sat in beforehand.

A scoff accidentally left its way from y/n’s mouth and an idea formed in Richie’s head.

“Is this how you treat all your guests?” y/n couldn’t see the smirk on his lips because he was turned away from her.

“Only the insufferable ones.” y/n’s eyes narrowed at the back of Richie’s head. “You can be a real asshole sometimes.”

“I hate to break it to ya, but you’re no walk in the park either.” Richie turned around. He was preparing himself for a smack to the head or jab in the gut. He didn’t expect for y/n’s searing stare to have some sort of newfound effect on him.

y/n had always been pretty. Whether it be when they were twelve and she wore white, collared shirts under her yellow, cable-knit sweaters. Or in freshman year when her hair grew longer and her shirts got shorter.

But the question, if Richie had ever thought about her or not, would remain a mystery to y/n. It would be weird to make out with the girl you knew since Velcro shoes and He-man, right? Right?

y/n’s eyes trailed from Richie’s to his lips, similarly to how she’d done earlier that day. But earlier that day a cigarette was nested between his perfect—chapped lips. Now, the only thing that stood between their lips was the space between them and tension.

“Whatever.” y/n was about to leave, not caring that Richie Tozier would be left to his own devices in her room. She just wanted to be in any room he wasn’t. But a hand, decorated in silver rings and chipped nail polish, stopped her from doing so. This was the second time someone had stopped her from leaving by laying their hand on her shoulder.

There was no time to ask for questions because Richie’s lips were attached to hers, kissing away her grimace. It was a total paradox: his lips were cracked, yet soft and even though they had just eaten dinner she could taste mint on his tongue.

The kiss was rough and full of want. Richie wanted to know what she tasted like. Richie wanted to know what she felt like. Richie wanted to know her.

y/n pulled apart from him. She stayed long enough to know what his kisses felt like but left fast enough to leave him wanting more.

“Why’d you do that?” She said in between gasps for air. They were both left breathless from the intensity of it all.

Richie shrugged and y/n hated how apathetic he could be. “Just felt like it.” His hands slipped into his back pockets. His eyes then started to travel from her neck to her body. He started to wonder what she looked like without that jean jacket on. Or any clothes on.

y/n knew what Richie wanted. It was just the question if she’d give it to him or not. She shrugged her shoulders in an equivalent fashion as to how Richie shrugged his so that the jacket slipped off, revealing the exposed skin her tank top allowed for.

A faint whistle echoed from Richie’s lips. The same lips that were just on hers a moment ago. He took the time to stare at—no—admire her sharp collarbones and the skin that her top left no imagination for. A sudden rush of goosebumps pricked y/n’s now exposed shoulders at the sound of him whistling and she had to tell herself to keep her composure.

“Is this the part where we have amazing sex and afterward I’m just suddenly supposed to forgive you?” y/n’s words were like a knife, stabbing into Richie’s unusually open state. Nonetheless, her arms were reaching to take off her shirt and her legs were already kicking off her loose jeans.

“Don’t try an’ break the fourth wall.” Richie mirrored her. His shirt flew across the room, it wasn’t like he cared where it landed. His only pair of good jeans marked where he once stood. He was now on her. His lips left sloppy, wet kisses that trailed from her heated cheeks to her neck.

The two were fast to make their way to y/n’s bed—Richie taking his rightful place on top of her and y/n wrapping her legs around him. Her hips bucked up to his as she tried to relieve the built-up stress and ache in her core, but it only caused the heat in her underwear to pool, even more, soaking it further.

“Christ, you’re dripping.” Richie felt the dampness from her panties transfer to his boxers. His index and middle finger reached down, swiping at her heat through the lacy fabric. y/n whimpered as she watched him lick the slick from his fingers afterward. “You have to be quiet, okay? If we get busted my dad’ll sock me.” Richie whispered in her ear, his lips barely ghosting the shell of it.

y/n’s eyes fluttered at the small sensation. Do it again, Richie. But she would never admit her longing for him. Her legs tightened around him (if that were even possible) and she only wished that Richie would get the hint without her having to say it.

“Needy, are we?” y/n’s eyes rolled under her shut eyelids at the sound of Richie’s voice. The boy was all talk, non-stop. If they didn’t hurry, y/n feared her mom would check up on the two. All she could do was pray the Toziers kept them busy with conversation.

Richie held himself up with his left arm while his right hand rubbed indecipherable shapes on her clit. y/n wanted to cry out, but she knew better than that and she would get more than just a handful from Richie if she did. His long, dexterous fingers knew their way around a girl and y/n couldn’t help but think to how many times he’s done this before.

He was fast when he slipped a finger into her, then one became two, and two became none just as the top of y/n’s head hit her headboard from throwing her head back in pleasure.

“Why’d you stop?” y/n whispered. Her hips ground against him again and she could feel how hard he had gotten. These few seconds of paused breaths were about as much fun for her as it was for him.

“I think I hear someone.” Richie blinked and sat up. His full attention had reverted to the sounds outside her room and he was sure those footsteps weren’t y/n’s imaginary friend.

y/n saw this as an opportunity to get Richie back for all the times he’s gotten at her. The accidental trips in the hallways. The snide comments. The times he’s hooked up with other girls that weren’t her. She pushed him so he laid flat on his back, all sprawled out for her. She pressed a kiss to his lips. She kissed him hard. All the pent-up anger and resentment she had towards him was released into that kiss. Her lips then trailed their way down his body. They were feather-light and tickled his freckled skin. She was careful not to make marks, but it was tempting. It was tempting not to leave a purple bruise on his hipbone only for his next hookup to ask who’s that from? And for him to reply actually, I don’t think we should do this.

y/n looked up at Richie with the same puppy dog eyes she used to wear when they were six and Richie just about had a heart attack. The girl relieved him of his confinements (and other things), only for his manhood to unveil itself. It was eager for her, the tip glazed with precum and y/n’s mouth couldn’t help but water at the thought of being the one to get him off. She took him in her dainty hands. The same hands he watched handle the knife with. The same hands that wound their way around his neck and played with his unruly hair when he was on top of her. She pumped him cautiously; tenderly, before taking him in her mouth. She first kissed the tip, remnants of precum glossing her lips, and then swallowed around him.

Richie moaned at the feeling and y/n giggled, the vibrations sending him into endless bliss. The girl below him took one of her hands and placed it over his mouth in the same way he had told her to be quiet earlier. She smiled, feeling his mouth on her hand and her mouth-

“Richie?” It was Wentworth Tozier and y/n had never been so glad to be behind closed doors.

y/n released the hand that was cupped over his trash mouth. “Yea-yeah, dad?” His eyes were wide and not because he was in awe of the night he had been waiting for since forever, was finally happening.

“Are you ready to go? We’ve just about finished up.”

Richie found it all of the sudden harder to contain his sounds and the sensation of y/n’s mouth taking his length multiplied by tenfold.

“Ye-yeah.” Richie cursed himself for turning into his stuttering friend. Except instead of a stuttering Bill, it would be a stuttering Richie.

“You’re not having any issues in there, are you?” Wentworth pressed further and Richie’s hands flew to y/n’s hair. Her head bobbed up and down at the command of him and the only thing Richie could do now was cross his fingers for a fast release.

“I just lost my ring,” he managed to get out.

“Aw. It’s not the nice one, is it?” Wentworth recalled how much that one had cost. The rings Richie wore were mostly costume jewelry, aside from the one plain band made of real silver.

“N-no.” Richie was frantic. “But it’s just one I like.” He stifled a grunt using his own ring-clad hand—where every ring resided just fine.

“Do you need any help?” I need you to go away.

“No!” He was suspiciously eager. “y/n’s helping me.”

“Okay, okay. Three’s a crowd.” Wentworth knew how to take a hint. “Your mom and I’ll be waiting in the car. Please be down shortly.”

It was only until Richie couldn’t hear his father’s footsteps anymore when he choked out a moan he’d been holding in for far too long.

y/n separated from him after swallowing the lst of his high. She left him with a thick stripe from her tongue pressed to the underside of his cock and breaths so heavy he could barely hear himself think.

“Christ.” Richie was still trying to find his breath and y/n only eyed him innocently. She got up from the bed to retrieve her clothes, he would have to get his own, giving him a full view of her backside.

“You talk too much,” y/n said nonchalantly. Her hands that were once on him were now searching through her drawers for a different pair of underwear. She’d have to shower again once the Toziers left but the pooling between her thighs felt too uncomfortable to tolerate for a second more.

Richie was sat upright on y/n’s four-poster bed. His glasses were fogged, an accurate representation of how his mind felt. A weird haze kept him from thinking straight. It was different from when you smoked green and he couldn’t help but think that this was the first time he’d gotten off in weeks.

“Richie?” y/n asked almost concerned. She appeared in front of him and she looked like she came straight from one of his dreams. Her cheeks were still flushed and hot from earlier when their skin collided and she hadn’t combed the sex out of her hair yet. Richie hated the Led Zeppelin t-shirt that covered her figure and he wordlessly pleaded to stay the night, the only indication coming from his big doe eyes that were blown with lust and sinful thoughts. “Richie!”

The shrill sound of her voice made him blink and he finally saw y/n for who she was.

“You have to leave.”

“Gee, sugar. You sure welcomed my stay.” His pupils were quick to contract when they made a trip to the back of his head.

y/n scoffed and before Richie could make a smart comment he was met with his clothes thrown at his chest and another order to leave.

“The princess gets what the princess wants,” were the last spoken words before y/n slammed the bedroom door behind him. But y/n wouldn’t confess that it was Richie she fantasized about that night while her left hand traveled beneath her fresh pair of underwear. She’d pretend her fingers were his, but it wasn’t the same when she couldn’t meet the same feeling of euphoria he gave her.

Unsurprisingly, it was Richie to address their rendezvous the next day. They were at school: y/n hung by a row of lockers with Stacy at her hip as she talked about her new cheer routine.

Richie immediately spotted y/n who was sporting dark wash skinny jeans and another band tee, but the hem reached just above her navel. He faintly recognized the blondie next to her, recalling if they had ever done it or not but he assumed if y/n was friends with her the answer was most likely no.

“Hey.” His voice was coarse and a shallow part of y/n wanted to know if he had found another girl to get off with when he left her place.

“Hi.” y/n’s eyes never left Stacy’s and she pretended not to be interested in what he had to say.

“y/n.” Her stomach felt hollow at the sound of him saying her name. She digressed, still giving her friend her full attention. “y/n.” His voice was firmer now. They had all the time in the world, seemingly because it was the end of the day, but Richie needed to talk to her now.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to talk to someone?” y/n bit back harshly. She didn’t mean it.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to talk to you?” Richie grew agitated and y/n liked the sound of desperation from him. Desperate for her.

“It’s fine, y/n.” Stacy was understanding but she shot Richie an offhanded glance that left him speechless and self-conscious. “I have practice anyway.” After she kissed y/n’s cheek goodbye, she skipped off to what y/n presumed was the football field.

“Whew, where can I get some of that action?” Richie wiggled his eyebrows which earned him a slap to his shoulder.

“What do you want?” y/n still didn’t make eye contact with the boy in front of her—a pattern he was just now starting to pick up on.

“Last night…” Richie’s eyebrow raised suggestively, and y/n knew exactly what he was hinting at just from the tone of his voice because what else had happened last night?

“Last night was a mistake,” y/n lied. She had to keep her guard up around him or else she’d get hurt.

“You think so?” Richie’s back slumped against the lockers next to hers while y/n continued to shove books into her bag. “I kinda liked it,” he admitted.

y/n’s eyes widened, and she swore her ears were deceiving her.

They weren’t.

Richie and y/n had spent the past week switching between each other’s houses. On Tuesday it was Richie’s because the ‘rents would be AWOL and on Wednesday it was y/n’s because it was her house the yearbook club would be meeting on that day and she had to be there to set up.

“I don’t see why ya have to go to that stupid thing,” Richie grunted before pushing in. “Who buys yearbooks anyways?”

“A lot of people.” y/n said, partially annoyed that they had to be fast and also annoyed at how much Richie talked during sex.

Their sessions were usually quick and sloppy. Neither taking the time for foreplay, and neither caring. Hands gripped skin and teeth clashed. As long as the other got their release, it didn’t matter. It was a system. Richie would meet y/n at her place and y/n would meet Richie at his. They’d part with a goodbye and nothing more. Anything more would be crossing the line.

It was on a Monday when Richie Tozier found himself shakily opening the handle to y/n’s front door. It was out of character for him to be nervous about this stuff, but he was. They’d been hooking up after school for a few weeks now and although they hadn’t had a session planned for today. It was like an unspoken agreement.

He didn’t bother to see if the door was locked or not. He already knew the y/l/n’s kept a spare key under the welcome mat so he welcomed himself to use it.

Her house was eerily quiet. He bet he could hear a pin drop if he tried to find the one sitting at the bottom of his backpack. But he didn’t. For a second, it occurred to Richie that no one was home. He wanted to recheck if the cars were in the driveway until he remembered y/n didn’t drive. Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier was now Richie ‘The Snoop’ Tozier as he made his way up the stairs to her room. An uncomfortable stillness blanketed the air but Richie only continued his path.

He caught on quick once he saw the door to her room was open, giving Richie a full view of y/n leaning against the edge of the balcony that was connected to her bedroom.

“y/n!”

She looked peaceful as the wind lifted her hair—it would take her body too, just one push.

y/n didn’t notice her name from his lips as he called for her. The only cohesive thing that ran through her mind was the sound of her thoughts. Do it. Do it. Do it.

She was about to. Her grip on the railing tightened before letting go completely and her feet pushed off to meet the air’s welcoming breeze. But the exoneration y/n had ever so hoped for was replaced by the tight embrace of Richie Tozier as his arms wrapped around her torso. He held her tight even though her body fell limp at his touch.

“y/n.” She wanted to crawl in a hole at her name on his tongue. The high-spirited and playful little girl Richie Tozier once knew and held close was replaced with a sad—miserable—teenager and Richie had to take a step back because it became apparent to him that he didn’t know her at all.

A hot tear burned its way down her cheek which Richie wiped with the pad of his thumb.

“Why do you care?” y/n whispered. She was too weak to move so she sat with him. She sat with his arms strewn around her to keep her from doing anything stupid.

“What do you mean why?” Richie was calm under the weight of the situation. Honey dripped from his voice, soothing her open wound and y/n reluctantly felt her body relax with his.

“We hate each other.” The words stung because honesty hurts and Richie’s dry mouth swallowed, buying him time to think of a reply.

“Where did it all go wrong, sugar?” He asked. Richie genuinely wondered what had changed between them and y/n’s heartbeat picked up rapid-fire because she remembered the events, as well as she, remembered her eighth-grade valedictorian speech.

It was the summer of ‘89. School had just let out and y/n rushed home to change from her school clothes and call up the Toziers’ landline—a number she had memorized by heart.

She threw open her closet door, blood was rushing through her veins as she decided what to wear. It took her a moment and she wondered what Richie’s favorite color was. She finally decided on blue to match his eyes.

Mrs. y/l/n had scolded y/n for running in the house because she just swept the floor and she didn’t want tracks again, but y/n didn’t care as she dialed the home phone with the precision of a hunter. y/n sat patiently in her baby blue sundress with her legs crossed on the velvet armchair while the dial tone rang. A giggle couldn’t help but escape her lips from the thrill of it all.

She’d never been so bold to call up her crush and now she was finally doing it.

“Hello?” It was Maggie Tozier’s voice and y/n could tell she hurried to the phone before this.

“Is Richie there?” y/n asked timidly. She wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t get the chance to talk to him because she died from a heart attack right there, but she praised herself in her head for containing her loose giggles.

The other end was silent for a moment. “Richie can’t come to the phone right now.” Maggie sounded sad and y/n understood. “Maybe try again tomorrow?”

She did. She had tried again that whole week and she was met with the same answer each time.

Embarrassment finally took the form of a soon-to-be-highschooler as y/n couldn’t bring herself to call the line, or even look at the phone that next week.

Summer of ‘89 went by as fast as it came. y/n had grown a few inches only for Richie to shoot up like a tree.

She’d only seen him sparingly. Once at Mr. Keene’s pharmacy where he was hanging out with Eddie, Bill, Stan, and a few other familiar faces; faces she’d seen before but couldn’t place a name to. The other times she’d seen him were at the barrens, but she couldn’t bring herself say anything to the boy, let alone look at him.

Their final meeting was on the first day of school: freshman year. Richie stood a good head above her and y/n had finally found the courage to confront him after her fun-less summer.

The days were still hot even though school had started to pick up and it didn’t help that Derry High had neglected to get their AC unit fixed until snowflakes carried through later that year. To combat the scorching sun that beat down on the Derry residents’ backs, y/n wore a yellow, pinstriped sundress that jutted out at the hip and ended above the knee. Her mom insisted she wore the new Mary Janes she’d splurged on, just for her, and to go with them she paired white frilly socks and a silver necklace.

“Hi!” y/n was hopeful that the one and only Richie Tozier hadn’t forgotten who she was over the summer of not calling back and sparse interactions. She stood at his locker and looked at him with the same puppy dog eyes she did when they were six. The same puppy dog eyes she’d give him the night he would come over for dinner and over welcome his stay in her room.

Richie stood there frozen. His hand had a death grip on the new history book he had just received earlier that day and even if he wanted to move, his muscles wouldn’t allow for such a thing. He forced a smile on his pretty lips that had snuck a cigarette in the bathroom earlier—a habit he picked up from over the summer—but didn’t say anything.

“I called you…” y/n said, a sort of sadness hinting in her words. She could tell there was something different about him, but she didn’t know what it was. “Busy summer?”

He felt his breath hitched and found his fingers, along with the other muscles in his being, able to move. Richie swiftly and recklessly stuffed the textbook in his backpack while y/n was tracing the numbers engraved on the metal plating of the locker next to his. The thrill of finally being in high school hadn’t yet left her body when all Richie could think about was when they’d get the fuck outta there.

“You could say that.” Richie didn’t really know what happened that summer. All he knew was that there were a couple missed calls from y/n—according to his mom. And it’d be too embarrassing to try and rekindle what little they had now.

“Well, if you aren’t busy right now…” y/n’s words started to trail off, becoming a distant memory in Richie’s mind until they picked up again. “We could hang out after school?” There sparked a glimmer of hope in her big eyes and Richie felt his insides twist into a bow.

The loud, ear-piercing sound of metal hitting metal made y/n jump when Richie slammed his locker door shut. “We’re not friends.”

“What?” She was in disbelief at what the boy in front of her was saying even though he wore a straight face.

Richie sighed. “Look. I don’t know how many times I have to explain this to ya but listen good: just cos our parents are all chummy doesn’t mean we gotta be.” He hadn’t blinked since he started talking and his hard stare confirmed the awful feeling in y/n’s stomach.

“F-fine. If that’s how you feel.” y/n kept herself from bursting in front of the boy she harbored a crush for. She turned away from him and made quick to excuse herself from his presence.

y/n remembered never touching her Mary Janes after that day. They still sat in the back of her closet collecting dust—still shining as if they were new. She would spend the rest of her freshman year in t-shirts she’d cropped herself and figuring out how to get the most natural-looking tears in her jeans.

y/n remembered hating Richie Tozier ever since.

Silent tears streaked her cheek. Some fell on Richie’s sleeve and he felt guilty. “Oh, kid. I don’t hate you.” The sound of his heartbeat through his shirt soothed her, like how a lullaby calmed a child. Richie didn’t expect an answer from the girl in his arms. He just stroked her hair and hoped she’d stay as still as she was in his arms when it was time for him to go.

“Regina hates me.”

y/n gave Richie no further explanation as to why three became two in her already small group of friends. It was earlier that day when she had found out Regina Carmichaels had been talking to Ellie Wozniack behind her back—revealing y/n’s deepest secrets and embarrassing stories—since grade school. She only found out from Stacy who was in the handicapped stall during her lunch period. The cheerleader was doodling pink hearts on the wall that separated the two toilets in the girl’s bathroom next to the cafeteria when she heard a familiar voice groan in disgust about how much she couldn’t stand y/n. It was in study hall when y/n and Stacy finally shared a period when Stacy told her friend what she’d heard and seen through the crack of the door.

“My mom hates me.” y/n’s voice cracked, and Richie felt his grip tighten. She didn’t go into detail either. She didn’t have to.

“You have me,” Richie whispered in her ear. His thumb traced indistinguishable patterns against the sleeve of her shirt much like the night that started it all. One last sob escaped her dry throat and y/n felt herself turning in Richie’s arms.

Her eyes meticulously searched his, noting every fleck of color, every detail. His mirrored hers in expression and she felt her heartbeat slow.

The two didn’t have to say anything, they just knew.

It was Richie who pressed a kiss to her temple. The soft skin of his lips made their way down to her lips—they spent extra time on her cheekbone which was wet and salty from the tears that streamed down it.

The other times y/n and Richie kissed, it was rushed, neither of them taking the time to notice the other; only caring about getting off. But as Richie’s soft lips captured y/n’s, it was different from the times before. It was slow as each party took the time to explore each crevice of each other’s mouth and discover the natural feeling that stayed hidden in the pit of their stomachs in which only at this moment did it reveal itself.

The kiss they shared exuded a feeling y/n had never felt with him the previous times their bare skin found each other. It was nice. Richie was taking all the precious minutes he had with her and it was as if he were seeing her for the first time.

A certain feeling of loss washed over both of them when they had to pull apart for air. When her lips were bare, the only thing y/n wanted being to feel him on her again.

“I never meant to hurt you.” Richie took her hand in his. He knew he wasn’t the sole reason for all her problems, but he could be the one to relieve her of at least one.

y/n was quiet. Her hand squeezed his, letting him know she heard him. “Stay with me?”

“I’ll stay with you forever,” Richie said, his words only loud enough for her to hear, only meant for her to hear.

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier x reader fluff #richie tozier x reader angst #richie tozier x reader smut #richie tozier smut #richie tozier fanfiction #richie tozier imagine #this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and i don't wanna leave u guys in the dark #posting bc i hit 100 followers and im not done w my wips yet #if this is triggering to u just lmk and i'll take it down or we can work something out #maybe this does work out bc it's suicide prevention month..#maybe #tw: suicide mention

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anothertimdrakestan · 5 years ago

Text

Familiar Green

Damian Wayne x Reader Soulmate AU

In an AU where when your soulmate and you touch you feel sparks and intense warmth! Damian is around 16-18 ish in my head!

Being a sucker for a good love story you couldn’t help but always feel jealous watching your classmates, friends, and even strangers on the street find their soulmate. You watched as kids bumped into each other only to see their eyes meet at the feeling of sparks. What did the “sparks” even feel like? As a child you were about ready to touch an electric fence to understand the feeling.

As you grew up your focus eventually left your soulmate and you spent far to much time focussing on school work. You got into Gotham Academy on a merit scholarship from the Wayne Foundation and you were determined to put it to good use. Money was a sore subject and your family had been scraping by since you could remember. Your parents were soulmates and always said that their love would conquer all or some sappy shit like that. The only thing you were in love with was knowledge and that was just fine. In classes you were attentive and quiet, learning quickly no one liked a smart ass. Teachers often slipped you materials for projects knowing you probably didn’t have them at home and you sat in the back minding your own business.

You never ran with the popular crowd. You had friends you walked to class with and studied with, especially friends who were as driven as you but you never had a BEST friend. The person you tell everything to and a confidant who shares your passions and jokes with like no other. You would wait for the sparks to show you who that would be.

Currently, you were planning a speech for the annual Wayne Family Gala where all their merit scholars would show what they were doing with their scholarship. The speech was somewhere in between intense bragging about your grades, achievements, and experiments while also thanking the Wayne family every two words. You had it planned perfectly: big purse to get snacks for the endless speeches, the same dress you’ve worn the last two years, and one gratitude dance then home. Easy.

When the bell released you from the last class you began pushing towards freedom. Students grumbled and shoved through the tight halls and you rolled your eyes at the stupidity of those walking against the crowd or those stopped to chat about nothing. With the door in sight you sped up, pushing hard when you felt a zap. Your heart stopped, turning around to the sea of people pushing past you. The feeling was comforting yet alarming, the friction of just tapping shoulders was enough to stop you dead in your tracks. What seemed like endless hoards of people pushed past you while you stood begging for the person who felt it too to run back to you.

“Look at the genius who forgot how to walk”

Words shook you from a daze as you looked up to see a football star with a 2.1 GPA staring you down. Rolling your eyes you headed out for fresh air and a walk home to prep for the gala, but you couldn't shake the feeling resonating in your shoulder.

-- agressive time skippppp --

As you watched your classmate wrap up his speech on his first place win at the Math Olympics you realized it was time for yours. The two of you did a quick high five before you found yourself alone, shaking hands clutching note cards with bright white lights blinding you from seeing Gotham’s most powerful staring expectantly up at you. With a deep breath, you began recounting the highlights of your year. Finding Mr. Wayne’s face up near the front you saw him nodding as you detailed your research with collegiate professors, perfect test scores, and passion. Thanking the board members one last time you looked to the cameras and gave a big smile before heading back behind the stage.

Once away from the prodding lights you let out the breath held in for the entire speech. Until next year Gothamites. Detailing your plans to chat up the rich folk, dance in front of the cameras photographing merit scholars then leaving and probably getting fast food on the way home, you smiled to yourself knowing it was almost over. Heading out to the main floor you listened politely to the rest of the speeches before scouting out the person with the biggest net worth in the room.

Making your way around the room, you accidentally locked eyes with none other than Mr. Wayne who gestured you over. Estimating that the money held between Mr. Wayne and the men he was talking to stood around a couple trillion dollars you gladly complied, hoping to find a sponsor for more research, maybe even college scholarships.

“Hello Miss. It’s y/n right?” you politely greeted Mr. Wayne trying not to gawk at his suit that probably cost more than your family’s rent. Finding your inner confidence you took the opportunity to explain your passions and ask questions of the people in the semi-circle formed around you. While talking, a young man came to stand next to his father, clearly impressed with your credentials. After a couple glances you recognized the light smirk and emerald green eyes as Damian Wayne. You saw him as the opposite of you, he floated through Gotham Academy on Daddy’s wallet, barely showing up to school and often wearing dark sunglasses to hide what you assumed to be a hangover from partying the night before. Giving him a curt smile you continued, mostly focused on David Shield, a man about 55 who ran a series of fancy hotels, he shared passions with you and looked very interested.

The more you spoke the more Shield focused on you. Eventually, he offered to bring you to get a drink (non-alcoholic you assumed) and talk about a possible partnership. Quickly you began thanking the men around you will either a nod or a quick handshake. You couldn’t pass up the opportunity to shake Bruce Wayne’s hand and you almost fainted when you realized you were shaking hands with THE Bruce Wayne. Lastly you turned to Damian and saw Mr. Wayne pat his back, forcing him to hold out a hand, rolling his bright green eyes lazily. As you went to shake it Mr. Shield tapped your shoulder hurrying you saying “let’s go princess I’m in a hurry here” as he started walking off. This was the opportunity of your lifetime, you tried to walk past Damian, hurriedly trying to follow Mr Shield. When your shoulder brushed Damian’s and you felt the familiar sparks again your heart ripped in half. You could swear you heard them crack and pop in the air as you locked eyes with his green ones. Ready to forget about Mr. Shield you turned to Damian only for him to put two hand on your shoulders and mouth “Go I’ll find you” as he tried to direct you towards Mr. Shield. Where his hands made contact with your collarbone warmth erupted you could feel each finger radiating and sizzling against your bare skin.

In a daze, you felt Damian let go and you stumbled towards the bar. Mind racing you couldn’t stop turning back to Damian, who was in deep conversation with his father, both of them stealing glances at you. Trying to focus on the room and not the cold feeling from missing your soulmate’s touch you felt a hand snake around your waist and pull you towards the bar. Looking up at Mr. Shield who held your waiste for far too long you tried to shake off all thoughts of Damian and secure your future. Mr. Shield told you to call him David and he tried to order a fancy alcoholic drink for both of you. Asking for a club soda he paid and the two of you spoke about shared interests and a possible collaboration. Trying to focus on the conversation and not the feeling of your heart beating out of your chest was extremely difficult.

After sipping bubbly water with Mr. Shield David and him deciding to grant you the money you needed you felt ecstatic. Trying to wrap up the conversation and look for Damian Mr. Shield wouldn’t end the conversation with you. Your heart sunk as you saw the paparazzi follow Mr. Wayne, Damian, and his three brothers out of the ballroom. The only breath of hope you felt was seeing familiar green eyes frantically scanning the ballroom for who you hoped was you, but his eyescouldn’t find yours.

Defeated you returned to speaking with David but decided it was late and you were feeling more lightheaded than normal. He offered a ride home and you couldn’t pass it up, not feeling too well, probably because of the loud atmosphere and heavy air. Getting up you felt him place his hand in the small of your back and though you tried to twist or politely shake it off he kept it there. As you stumbled towards the door you felt worse and worse. Knowing something was seriously wrong you decided it was better to wait outside for your parents to come get you. You tried to explain the situation but Mr. Shield adamantly said you had to come with him. Beginning to get woozy and frustrated you started pushing him away.

“Y/n sweetie let me take you home” he purred

“You don’t even know where I live let me go” you stopped dead in your tracks.

“C’mon just right here let’s get in” he gripped your arm and immediately fight or flight kicked in and momma didn’t raise no bitch. You began to hit his chest, yell, and try to slither out of his grip. Your fist connected with his chin and he stumbled back, visibly angered he advanced toward you and you realized this was not going to end well. Closing your eyes you braced for pain but felt a smaller, latex covered hand wrap around your waist with a woosh.

With your eyes still closed you couldn’t tell if you really were floating in a stranger's arms or if you were just heavily drugged. Opening an eye you saw the gala building grow smaller and you decided it was definitely the former, but probably also the latter. Sucking in a breath you looked up to see a domino-masked, red and yellow-clad vigilante holding you with one arm and a grapple with the other. Realizing you were literally hundreds of feet above solid ground you wrapped your arms around Gotham’s own Robin squeezing his neck and feeling a familiar spark. Unable to connect the dots due to a heavily drugged brain you clung to the hero praying for your life until you heard

“y/n we’re safe now” from a familiar, and very concerned voice.

Peeking up you realized he was still holding you as you clung to him though he stood comfortably stable on the roof of a building. Gingerly you put your feet on the ground, not releasing him from your grasp feeling the sparks fly between your fingertips and his neck. Looking up at Robin you moved a hand to his cheek, sparks sizzling and jumping more so than ever. And in what was probably not your smoothest moment you mumble

“hey Damian” at the masked figure. Your fingers instinctively tug at the domino mask and as you expected, the same piercing green eyes looked down at you.

“hello y/n” he nodded. His eyes began to scan you for any signs of pain and you assured him you were fine.

“disgusting of David Shield to try to drug a teenager especially my own soulmate TT” your heart fluttered at the acknowledgment of the bond. You reached up to touch his face again just to check the sparks were still there. Like clockwork electricity danced between the two of you. Content with the feeling you decided to share some personal information. Whatever Shield gave you made you bold if nothing else.

“You know I’ve wanted a soulmate my whole life. I’d let Shield go after me again if it meant I’d get to meet you. Especially if it meant my soulmate was this hot holy hot damn” Damian’s eyes softened looking down at you and his lips pulled into a smirk but you could tell no amount of comfort would stop his anger.

“Trust me beloved no one will go after you ever again” he pulled you against him and you instinctively wrapped your arms around his torso, fitting together like a puzzle. Even with a cool breeze blowing around the top of the building the warmth from holding your soulmate was enough to have you melting into his arms. In that peaceful moment every cliche made sense. This was feeling you wanted to feel forever. You heard a light buzz from his earpiece with a voice asking about his location and status. With a curt reply Damian told you it was time for him to take you home. Holding onto Damian as he swung down he whispered in your ear

“I could get used to having you in my arms beloved” and with a giddy smile you replied

“I’d hope so lover boy you’re kinda stuck with me forever” at this he squeezed you tighter, his eyes shining with an emotion he’d never felt before and you looked up filled with excitement for the emerald green eyes you’d spend the rest of your life looking at.

#damian wayne #damian x reader #damian wayne x reader #dc #batfam #damian wayne x y/n

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beelieveinfandom · 4 years ago

Text

Convo from the 18+ discord about a very silly star wars crossover I wanted to share.

gremgeous the gem pillar Just had a GREAT idea for a star wars crossover Just dipper visiting the star wars universe for whatever reason (multiverse vacation maybe? Idk. Dipper maybe dusted off that old portal in a fit of nostalgia or smth) and palpatine finds him and tries to tempt alcor to his side by offering him power Standard stuff for the sith really Except Well If you offer a demon unspecified power, in what form are they going to take it if not in the one who is offering's soul? Biggest and best tasting power boost there is, really! And then maybe he takes over the empty shell of a body afterwards which may or may not grant him force acess and alcor has a grand old time making a mess out of running the republic (or at least running lose in the senate) This is like... early prequals or pre-preauals era maybe. When palpafucker is still undercover and being all covert and unsuspicious and stuff I call this.... "palpatines penechance for grand speeches and unspecific ominous statements to try and seem all powerful and cool and dramatic fuck him over" Or in shorter terms ... . "There's a demon lose in the senate" And it basically runs like that one john mullaney bit With a side dashing of that one journak 3 thing where bill posesses a guy, messes with a roman army and then makes a guys head explode Also like nobody knows who alcor is or that hes even there bc theres no demons or dream demons in star wars (that i know of) so he gets the run of the place Even moreso than back home in gravity falls bc no one knows magic, its all "force this" and "force that" Dippered probably spends a lot of time nerding out over the different alien species since they dont have those back in his dimension (theyve got aliens but theyre different kinds) and also about the laser swords (just like the one Grunkle Ford made for them all (Ford, Dipper, Mabel, Stan, Soos, Grenda, Candy, Grendas boyfriend, Pacifica, and even waddles and gompers) back in 2017! Good times, good times.)

swbeeworm oh this sounds like fun

gremgeous the gem pillar Right???

swbeeworm if i was familiar enough with the star wars universe to write anything in it i'd give this a shot

gremgeous the gem pillar right???

swbeeworm like i know star wars?? but i don't know star wars n i have to know something to be confident in writing it

gremgeous the gem pillar Sadly everything i know comes from time travel fixit and semi-salty pro-jedi meta

swbeeworm but just.... the sheer chaotic potential of this...

gremgeous the gem pillar Gosh yes....... Oh its be so good..........

swbeeworm oh mood it would be

gremgeous the gem pillar @Abigor u like star wars too gimme ur thooooughts When ur awake and have them to give

swbeeworm ugh i should. probably not be awake, i have stuff to do tomorrow n i have a headache but this is fun to think about

gremgeous the gem pillar I had another thing thats fun to think abt too Clone wars era, alcors there and everyon thinks hes a brand new sith player b/c gold eyes

swbeeworm just the shenanigans. the bullshittery. the sheer what-le-fuck reactions of everyone from the senate to the jedi to the people ooooooooo

gremgeous the gem pillar YES!!! Exactly.

gremgeous the gem pillar Oooooh jedi can do mind things i wonder what alcor wpuld feel like to them

swbeeworm my first instinctive responses were: 1) constant Screaming and a whirlwind mishmash of colors/concepts/etc that makes everyone who 'looks' too long start bleeding thru the nose/eyes 2) wii music on loop and these are VERY different prompts to have back to back but that's what i got

gremgeous the gem pillar AKDHSGGSHD I LOVE IT Oh what if its both at the same time Ajdhegdhdj what rven is the music like in star wars anyway

swbeeworm the fkin,,,, cantina music

gremgeous the gem pillar Like how would they react when confronted w wii music

swbeeworm is the equivalent i would think

gremgeous the gem pillar Do they even have the same sorts of instruments do they even know what electronic music is

swbeeworm just. that spawned another Thought imagine that the cantina music from That One Scene is the sw-equivalent of the wii music and just. just imagine that same scene playing but with wii music on loop in the background

gremgeous the gem pillar Gosh "wii music on loop" i love it AODHDHSHSJD

swbeeworm it would probably FIT they have the same vibe

gremgeous the gem pillar Im crying Mits so good

swbeeworm sdjlksdafj i saw a post the other day that was talking abt the music there n how it kept playing on loop n the poster joked that it might have been like,, the john mulaney salt-pepper-diner-story situation which is only tangentially related to this topic but i had to recall it

gremgeous the gem pillar AJSHH i love that Gosh ok i feel like take 1 would fit with the new sith in town scenario And take 2 fits with theres a demon lose in the senate

swbeeworm sfsdkfjh yES

gremgeous the gem pillar But how FUCKING HILARIOUS would it be if in the senate story its the former, and in the oh so serious sith story its the wii music on loop im akdhsjdvsjdhsjbd

swbeeworm ASLDJSLKFJ plEASE take 1: gritty, serious, angst, deadly miscommunications--and fucking wii music on loop take 2: lighthearted, cracky, shenanigans and bullshittery--and fucking bleeding out the eyes if you try n read the guy talk about dissonance

gremgeous the gem pillar "Big scary sith! Look at the yellow eyes! What dastardly plots cpuld he be thinking/partaking in....." [Hard cut to alcor pov/inside alcors head] wii music plays as he stares off into space during a supposedly very important meeting

gremgeous the gem pillar OH I DO LOVE THE DISSONANCE Gsjdgysgsvsjgd wheeze its so good i love it

swbeeworm me tooooo .....for the sith one. would ppl see blue fire n think lightning

gremgeous the gem pillar Theyd probably think its some other secret sith technique

swbeeworm fair enough

gremgeous the gem pillar Everyone thinks one of the other sith lines that was supposedly wiped out had it since this sith deffs aint the line of bane- even the cirrent sith wanna know where alcors popped in from "Lightning was the bane line specialty.... guess where ever this kids guys from fire was theirs"

swbeeworm= adjlsdfkjlfkjf the shenanigans n bullshittery one imagine alcor-as-palpatine just. going incorporeal, still visible but not able to be touched, and the jedi go from "what the fuck is going on" to "why the fuck is he a force ghost"

gremgeous the gem pillar AJSGSHSGSHSA

swbeeworm alcor, who'd done it only bc his ~ornate robes~ had got so caught/tangled on something he could only get free by phasing through it: ??????

gremgeous the gem pillar wheeze Alcor: how the fuck did this guy move around in these AJDHSGDH ALCOR NOT KNOWING ABOUT THE SITH- SHOWS UP TO THE SENATE IN THE SITH ROBES

swbeeworm asdlkjsfkjsdfdf

gremgeous the gem pillar CALLS IT A "FASHION STATEMENT" WHEN CALLED OUT ON IT

swbeeworm a fASHION STATEMENT YES alcor: :blobsweats: alcor: what the FUCK is a sith alcor: and why do they have better style than the jedi

gremgeous the gem pillar WHEEZE He doesnt know jack shit abt the jedi or anything hes just vibing!!!!!!

swbeeworm yesssssss

gremgeous the gem pillar AJDGSGGDJS YOU KNOW WHATVWPUKD BE EVEN BETTER ALCOR THINKS THE SITH LOOK IS TACKY AF

swbeeworm alcor: no listen. listen. i picked these space robes out of my space wardrobe because they looked cool, not because i'm part of some. some space cult ljflskdajfslkdfjsd

gremgeous the gem pillar BUT HE STILL THINKS ITS BETTER THAN THE JEDI

swbeeworm that's even better

gremgeous the gem pillar space cult im HOWLING

swbeeworm you KNOW he'd be so excited at being in space this DORK

gremgeous the gem pillar Ph gosh imagine it starts out all dark and serious and angsty and creepy in the whole beginning exchange But as soon as the day after alcor takes up palps role hits it takes a sharp turn into crack terriotry

gremgeous the gem pillar OH HE WOULD

swbeeworm yESSSS

gremgeous the gem pillar Alcor takes one look at dooku and is like "youre the only one aroynd here with any sort of fashion sense" "And its HORRIBLE"

swbeeworm sljflskdjfsd

gremgeous the gem pillar Just roasts him And by extension everyone else too

swbeeworm dooku has NO IDEA what's going on but at this point ""palpatine"" or whatever's taken over him is ten minutes into a rant abt the layers on layers of boring robes jedi wear and at this point he'll take the backhanded compliment about his own style

gremgeous the gem pillar Akehdsjfssksgsjd

swbeeworm just to shut him up

gremgeous the gem pillar AKDHDJDGDJDHD Alco goes on a 30 minute rant on why suits are SO much more professional

swbeeworm snaps "palpatine" into a suit and goes "...except maybe for this guy idk if anything could make him look good"

gremgeous the gem pillar And its more of a backhanded insukt than a backhanded compliment but anything to shut the guy up, right?

swbeeworm how much we roasting palpatine here

gremgeous the gem pillar To a blackened crisp

swbeeworm as it should be

gremgeous the gem pillar Its better than his wrinkly old rasin look anyday

swbeeworm lskjdlsakjfdf agreed

gremgeous the gem pillar Be hard NOT to improve on that honestly But the dude sinks so low i bet hed somehow manage it

swbeeworm --alcor getting fed up w palpatine's body and just. showing up to the senate meetings, full alcor, eyes n his normal face n everything, in palpatine's robes, and when someone rightfully asks him who the hell is he, he just deadpans "i'd think by this point you'd recognize your own chancellor" and just straight insists he's palpatine (and has the knowledge to back it up) every time someone sputters

gremgeous the gem pillar Also i included the bit abt the journal 3 thing bc my saga of alcor repeating bill's patterns, behaviors, and ideas unknowlingly and without awareness that that is what he is doing shall continue >:3c

gremgeous the gem pillar AODHAJDBAKWJHEVEJDJDHSHSHSJWOWKJEHEE I LOVE IT OH HOW I LOVE OT ALSOWHSKJDISOSOAJAIW Oh gosh what if he fuckin

swbeeworm because at this point it's less about blending in and more about trolling the whole senate and being as distracting as possible because with everyone paying attention to his trolling theyre less likely to notice the bills for clone rights n abolishing slavery n such that he's pushing thru in the background misdirection at its finest

gremgeous the gem pillar I was gonna say a thing abt alcor replacing palps b4 the election and so they did elect alcor to chancelorhoood But it might be funnier if he took him over AFTER abd still says that bit abt recognizing their own chancellor Oh gosh in that secind scenario it would be hilarious if the jedi are all :blobglare: @alcor except for obi-wan who is all like "i am looking away" bc at least THIS guy (whiever the hell he is) has stopped being such a creep abt anakin

swbeeworm the jedi are sent in to figure out wtf is going on and. they, unfortunately, bewilderingly, confirm that this is the same person as the chancellor who'd been showing up recently??? same wii music/bleeding effect??

swbeeworm alcor, finding appointments with some random jedi kid on palpatine's calendar: wtf why is this creep trying to meet with a kid alone, yeah how about i cancel that

gremgeous the gem pillar AKDJDJD Alcor, looking at palpatibes planner: "every day i am more and more glad that i ate thig guys soul" "Like i knew it was oily but im suprised i havent got an upset stomach from it yet"

swbeeworm sjlskdfjsdf alcor the next day, after finding stuff abt the order 66 chip things, gagging: "i spoke too soon"

gremgeous the gem pillar Obi-wan to the council: hmm? Yes this is totally the chancellor, i know this because of all the previous meetings and close relationship he has had with my padawan which you allowed and helped facillitate- "Palpatine":[has a completley different body type, height, and face. Plus he actually has hair and is maybe even floating a little but its hard to be sure in those black and gold robes- and with a completely different voice] oh, yeah, totally, Im the chancellor and i totally know who this guy and that kid is yup yup yup-

gremgeous the gem pillar [UGLY LAUGHTER] AkdjskkdkdjsysAODJSJEUEIEIIEF

swbeeworm ASDKAFDF "palpatine": [grins with very sharp teeth at a nervous senator] council: "okay that is NOT normal" obi-wan, deadpan: "i'm sorry, it sounds like you're discriminating against non-human beings? that's not very jedi of you now is it"

gremgeous the gem pillar ALDHDJDHD Wait wait no what if its "This is completely normal behavior. I, as a human, know this for certain" "I can do this too, but i dont, because it is impolite, but hes the chancellor he can do whatever he wants"

swbeeworm asldksajflksdfjsdf;jsdf yes yes beautiful

gremgeous the gem pillar Alcor and obi-wan team up to be passive agressive at everyone who allowed palps and anakin to hang out ABOUT them letting an unsupervised minor chill w a suoer duper old guy Shoulda had a chaperone at LEAST Butalso

swbeeworm the other humans on the council: "uh, actually-" obi-wan: [manages to sip tea (which he shouldn't even have access to in a council meeting btw) with an aggressively polite smile and silent Threat] the other humans: "....um."

gremgeous the gem pillar "Thats not very jedi of you now is it" AODHSJSIDHALSVD IM HOWLING I LOVE IT THE SASS wheeze*

swbeeworm i live for obi-wan sass it gives me LIFE

gremgeous the gem pillar SAME oh its so good Love that one post where obj-wan is on tatooine and calls all the force ghosts to view his powperpoint presentation about how letting palps have acess to analin was a bad idea as hed been saying all along-

swbeeworm u need to know i wrote this with the "that's not very plus ultra of you" meme, which is a bnha offshoot of the "that's not very cash money of you" meme, in my head on repeat

gremgeous the gem pillar Ph him terrorizing all the people palpatine had in his pocket...... Ok this is veering into even MORE crack territory but at some poibt alcor replaces, uh, whats the dudes name, palps second in command - mess something-or-other? - with a nightmare Not just ANY nightmare But a DIFFERENT nightmare each day

swbeeworm ASDLSDFKLDJF PLEASE

gremgeous the gem pillar They took it upon themselves to go on rotation They couldn't decide who should go when alcor proposed the idea so its everyone One at a time They dont even look REMOTELY human Or like anything the galaxy has ever known or seen And theres no "secretive supernatural species" excuse for them to fall back on here lmao

swbeeworm random dude: "what is that???" alcor, cheerful: "that's my assistant" rd: "is that--is that supposed to be a sheep?" alcor: "no they're my assistant" nightmare: [sound that, if you ignore the reverb and microphone-screeching and kazoo effects, might be a "baaa"] alcor: [smiles aggressively wider with sharp teeth] rd: [sweats nervously]

gremgeous the gem pillar ALDJDKSIEJEHAJWJWHEI Obi-wan: i am still l :eyes:king away Anakin: oooh, the wool is so soft master. Come feel it! Obi-wan: really? Ooh youre right The council: ....

swbeeworm rd: "okay but this is a DIFFERENT one than yesterday right?? right???" alcor: "i have absolutely no idea what you're talking about :)" obi-wan, still with tea he should not have, this time with space whiskey mixed in: "sir i think you might be seeing things, they are clearly the same individual as yesterday"

gremgeous the gem pillar Mace: ...hrm it is quite soft- The rest of the council: ??? When did he get-

gremgeous the gem pillar AKDJDJDHDHD JUST LYING THROUGH HIS TEETH ALDJDHFJF

swbeeworm obi-wan looking mace dead in the eye and chugging his spiked tea which is more whiskey than tea at this point: "how dare you accuse me of lying. me, after everything i've done for this council. i am betrayed. heartbroken. never shall trust again. i am leaving until i recover" -and promptly fucks off on a vacation with anakin

gremgeous the gem pillar The jedi start getting a LOT more missions about busting slave rings and giving aid in the outer rim - plus some more dimplomacy docused ones in regards to solving teeaties instead of putting down rebellions

-alcor shows up on the vacation with zero explanation and obi-wan at this point is like "fuck it why not" -a nightmare takes his place in palpatine's robes in the senate for the week they're gone

gremgeous the gem pillar ALSJSHDJDJSKDHEE Weirdly enough some of the more corrupt senators go missing after that week No one knows what hapoebed to them but the robes the "chancellor" wore that week have some awfully suspicious stains WAIT WAIT WHAT IF ITS NOT A NIGHTMARE WHAT IF ITS GOMPERS alcor didn't even ASK gompers to be there he was planning to not even warn anyone n just vanish but gompers just SHOWED UP the nightmares were the ones who put the robes on him

gremgeous the gem pillar Alcor doesn't even KNOW gomoers is there He gets back after the week and is like "what the heck" The nightmares are pretty proud of themselves for that one

swbeeworm the nightmares, collectively: "this is gonna be HILARIOUS" alcor, halfway across the galaxy, sees a newsfeed of a senate meeting with gompers in the robes in his place, and spits his drink clear across the room

he's only mad because he didn't think of it in the first place

gremgeous the gem pillar wheeze Hes proud of them

swbeeworm he IS

gremgeous the gem pillar Its so HILARIOUS

swbeeworm i pity anyone trying to read this mess later but i hope we at least make them laugh once

gremgeous the gem pillar Same Its such a joy Alcor teaches anakin the secret to mabel juice

swbeeworm oh no

gremgeous the gem pillar Only the children thank him The minders.... not so much

swbeeworm alcor: "okay so what i'm hearing is, the adult jedi have been making Stupid Decisions and not paying as much attention to the kids, as evidenced by them letting that one kid have meetings one on one with the creepy older guy i stopped putting effort into impersonating a month ago. so, clearly what needs to happen is something that forces the adults to pay attention to the kids and start keeping a closer eye on them, but it can't be something that actually hurts the kids because then i'd feel bad" alcor: "...." alcor: :blobamused:

gremgeous the gem pillar akdhdjsgshsjhdsjdjdj

swbeeworm alcor in a totally not suspicious trench coat and sunglasses: "hey. hey, kid. you wanna try some mabel juice?"

gremgeous the gem pillar AKDJDJDJDLFKFIFJIF WHEEZE "With the creepy older guy i stopped putting effort into impersonating a month ago" ALDJDBDJDJDDHDHDJDJDJDJDJDJDJSJDJEJEJE

gremgeous the gem pillar AKSJSHDJDJF

swbeeworm star wars kids: "mr chancellor why are you wearing that" alcor: "because i think it's funny" kids: "it isn't" alcor: "look do you want the juice or not"

gremgeous the gem pillar I LOVE ALL OF THAT LOOK DO YOU WANT THE JUICE OR NOT

swbeeworm i am having WAY too much fun with this ldjsldkfjdsf;

gremgeous the gem pillar "Were not supposed to take drugs from strangersl" "Its not- just take it!"

Hooooh man thats so funny Oh gosh Alcor uses a different time/date system

Than the star wars one

swbeeworm ooooooo yes

gremgeous the gem pillar Nit super sure where im going with this but.... Pretty sure he woukdnt know the star wars one At all Maybe the in-umuverse knockoff calendar maybe Hes wnough of a nerd to have that memorized But the star wars proper one

No, no i dont think he knows that one

swbeeworm nope no chance

gremgeous the gem pillar Omg yes

gremgeous the gem pillar Well its a good thing we have this..... and the mistaken sith version too :blobamused:

WAIT WAIT QAIT FLASH OF INSPIRATION ALCOR GIVING ANAKIN THE STRANGER DANGER PPT

swbeeworm i have 1 scene i can think of that actually almost made my friend cry and i have 1 au scene of a different au of mine where a character who canonically dies and gets brought back to life...doesn't come back (which is extra angst bc this is a Ghost Seeing Fic) and both of these i wrote at like 3-4am

swbeeworm SDFJKSDLFSJf YES :blobamused:

gremgeous the gem pillar Alcor: "you know, i usually save this one for the kids who followed the stranger with the nice candy into the alleyway and end up as sacrifices but I feel like you could benefit from it too"

swbeeworm alcor: "no talking to suspicious ppl" anakin: "except you right?" alcor: "....in any other situation i'd say no but if i say that you're just gonna up and leave (i see that grin thanks very much) so in this one singular personal case it is fine that you trust my very suspicious self"

gremgeous the gem pillar AKSJSJDJJD "My very suspicious self" Aksjdhdd

swbeeworm obi-wan, straight up knocking back shots now: "the man has a point anakin"

gremgeous the gem pillar Haha nice Obi-wan is taking notes Hes also re-inventing alcoholic mabel juice He weaseled the recipie out of the kids

swbeeworm asldfkjsdlkfjd imagine if somehow SIDIOUS CAME BACK and tries to take back over the senate but everyone at this point is used to alcor and one of two things happens: 1) they assume this is alcor messing with them with a clone/double (they don't know how he'd do it but at this point given his "assistants", the goat that somehow made more eloquent speeches than the "human", and the other things involved, they wouldn't put it past him) and just ignore him 2) they look between the real palpatine who'd been pushing thru some very sketchy bills, and between alcor who's been sneaking through law after law protecting all kinds of sentients, and they turn back to palpatine and go "how dare you impersonate the chancellor" and kick him out

swbeeworm at this point he deserves it tbh

gremgeous the gem pillar AKDJDJDHFDJDJDJD Ok i preffer him dead and gone and forgotten in favor of alcor (its what he deserves) but oh those are hilarious

swbeeworm agreed to both counts alsdjalsdk

gremgeous the gem pillar ESPECIALLY if the senate chooses to keep alcor over palps XD Ph man we can work that into him being dead and gone too- alcor starts dispersing the power and the other half of the senate w bail and padme are like "yeah seems legit" along w obi-wan The jedi only put like, a token effort into investigating and are more put out by trying to figure out what happened to the real palpatine and all his past shady dealings than exposing the current "palpatine" for a fake

swbeeworm palpatine: "excuse me?? i am the chancellor of this republic" councilmembers, with the same deadpan as alcor's been pulling on them all year: "sir, i think you're confused. this is the chancellor" [points to alcor, in palpatine's robes from his closet, making no attempt to hide his lack of resemblance to palpatine, with a nightmare at his side wearing a small top hat that proclaims its position as "chancellor's assistant"] palpatine: [screams of frustration]

gremgeous the gem pillar Once they reaize the shift in mission assignments can be attributed to new palp

gremgeous the gem pillar AKDJDJDJSJSJSBEJSJSJSHSJSKS

swbeeworm yesss this

gremgeous the gem pillar I wanna say maul gets the joy and pleasure of offibg palpatine the second time in that version

swbeeworm FINALLY they get a chance to pull one back over on someone, pass along the suffering a little bit

swbeeworm oh definitely

oh shit we've been at this for an hour

gremgeous the gem pillar Maul comes back and offs palps and evrryone is jist like "Maul!!! How?!?" And completley ignore the palpatibe corpse 2.0 Ajdhhd so we have Niiiight book

Also from a tumblr post the phrase "your pal friendpatine" is hilarious and i think yall shoukd enjoy it too As is "SOMEHOW... MAUL RETURNS" Both taken from the same post lol Okokok so switchibg tracks for a bit Revisiting Some groundwork for the mistaken sith version Alcor is there..... because al-v was there first, made friends with the droid army mid clone war, and caled his dad in to help Which puts alcors initial point of contact as the separost foot soldiers

gremgeous the gem pillar No matter what the dominant language alcor has most recently been using OH OH OH ALCOR WITH ACESS TO OTHER UNIVERSE SLANG CONFUSING ALL THE SENATE WITH HIS NONSENSICAL PHRASES AND IDIOMS AND SLANG/PROFANITY LIKE "over the moon" AND "hot belgian waffles" AND "fuck" "Palpatine": [drops paperwork he JUST spent so much time disorganizing (as in putting in a dissaray)] FUCK Senator: .... sir, what is a 'fuck' "Palpatine": ......... im not explaining that to you Or conversley he makes smth up Alcor, upon realizing the most common swear word is "kriff': yeaht hats stupid im not saying that Alcor mercilessly roasting the star wars profanity And how stupid they all sound. This one is great for the al-v and alcor make friend w a droid army and maybe-sorta steal them while massivelt confusing and mystifying everyone along the way, bc why not add a language barrier on top of all the other assumptions and misunderstandings >:D But also at the same time it would make sense for him to have got thw local language in an infodump somewhere along the line (maybe an older version) if its located in a different galaxy but the same universe........... but also what if theyre just suoer far away so he didnt get priority acess...... or even if he traveled back in time ............. [Shrug] idk Mwanwhile inexplicably having the same language is hilarious in the demon lose in the senate ons but also imagine alcor pretending to be palpatine while unable to speak the common tongue lolol I know it wouldnt work (he has to be able to understand palpatine on some level to take MASSIVE advantage of him and eat his soul) but it is hilarious to think abt the shenanigans............ OH GOSH ALCOR TAKING CONTROL OF THE SENAT BUT BEING UNABLE TO R E A D AKDBSKSKJFF Okokok Imagine the basic/english language inexplicably being the same structure w a few different words and concepts...... when spoken And completley different when written down SO ALCOR CAN SPEAK BUT HE CANT READ Meanwhile in mistaken for a sith land alcor either doesnt have any knowledge of the local language or else gets a SUPER OLD AND POSSIBLE DEAD LANGUAGE in an infodump (to help feed the misunderstandings and rumors and future clashes w the sith and the jedi hehhehheh) bc semi-omniscience is not total omniscience and so is not everything and, once again, is not very helpful But ill leave off for tonight on the thought of alcor, lose in the senate, in the seat of the chancellor, lord of all paperwork for the galactic republic....... and able to read NONE of it And barely understands it too (demons are not ones for politics, Brian the Organ Duck and his 200 year sucessful presidency run aside) (his is soemthing of the exception, not the rule.) Meanwhile all those humanitarian aid bills and the like are all being passed by bail and padmes group all over the place bc their strange and inexplicable source of resistance was devoured like, a week ago Not ones to look a gift horse in ths mouth until AFTER they get what they want the group passes a ton of bills without delay - and manages to break up a few monopolies along the way Now im not saying that "palpatine" suddenly acting off and the bills facing a lot less resistance is a noticeable coincidence...... and around the same time he stops asking after anakin ............... but im totally saying they notice it and realize its probably, absolutely, not a coincidence and theyre not going to say anything bc they like this new "palpatine" better. Despite all the other mindbending weirdness and mindfuckery going on there The jedi are only mad abt alcor bc a few of their own started bleeding from the eyes nose and ears when they tried to investigate initially so theyre a little ticked off abt that, which, fair.

Also the blantant lying and lack of trying on alcors part is a little insulting to them as a whole ("does he think we'll really fall for that") and is slightly concerning to them ("who the heck is this, someone is inpersonating the chancellor of the ENTIRE REPUBLIC-" Which is, admittedly, a little concern worthy) but if the council is honest (or some of the council anyway) with themselves its pretty much the darn best entertainmnt theyve had in a good long while, headaches aside, sot ehyll focus more on the okd palpatines dissapernace and dealings than the new "palpatine" so long as he doesnt start doing anything ACTIVELY damaging to the republic. A little mischief doesnt technically count as harm- and hey theys preffer to find the og chancellor b4 upsetting and potnetially causing the new one to do smth drastic by attsmpting to out him (not that alcor would, its so much funnier to deny everything to their faces while blatantly lying but they dont know that. So caution (and stress) it is)

#Transcendence AU #Discord Convo

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peaceoutofthepieces · 4 years ago

Text

chapter 16

The Stars Look Very Different

Social Media AU

previous chapter

this isn’t proofread because I literally just finished it so...I hope you like ❤️

tag list: @yellowballoon @cleocc @skaming-myself @boldlydeepestcupcake @pduwd @notallthereyall @gingerhead007 @groeneweiden @nyttvera @painfully-oblivious @zoenneforever @curiouskopf @engelkeijsers @xiaomailab @honeyandsinn @lauren-bk @saraben00 @tailsbeth @boysrunaway @howlingsaturn @menamesniall

~^~

Sander was nervous.

Really, nervous was an understatement.

He’s gone through the whole day with an erratic heartbeat and sweaty palms, counting down the hours. He was sure he would combust before the time even came. The only thing that stopped him was the idea of Robbe waiting for him, growing more and more restless as the minutes passed, eventually leaving on his own. Sander couldn’t have that.

More than anything, he was excited.

It pricked and sparked under his skin, urging him onwards, incredibly impatient. There was nothing in his head but Robbe. He was struggling to comprehend it. It didn’t seem possible that he was being allowed to see him again—that Robbe himself had requested it. None of it seemed possible. None of it seemed real.

It was also the only thing that was clear to Sander. His feelings for Robbe, his desire to see him, his need to talk to him at all times.

It might not have been real, but as long as Sander got to live in the fantasy long enough to see this night through, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He had to admit, though, that he cared a little when Robbe finally came into sight and he short-circuited for just a small moment.

Was he really going to do this?

“Hey, Robbe!”

He was.

Robbe found him in an instant, eyes catching and lips tweaking up in a smile. They held their usual element of danger, and it left a thrill thrumming through Sander’s stomach. But there was something else, hidden behind the glint. Something softer, curious. Something that almost resembled excitement. It set the thrill on fire.

Robbe hopped down off the wall when Sander came close enough, cocking his head as he examined him. Sander felt a little ridiculous, suddenly, wearing his leather jacket and Doc Martens, while Robbe wore his usual ensemble of hoodie and sweatpants and his signature brown coat. He was beautiful, all russet curls and doe eyes and smirks. Sander carefully bit down the urge to tell him so.

Though he was very tempted to see how Robbe would react.

“Nice,” Robbe commented, finally, simply. He turned and took a few steps backwards, nodding his head to the side in a gesture for Sander to follow.

This time, Sander didn’t question him.

“How did you get out past Lucas?”

Robbe shrugged. “Didn’t have to. He’s gone out with Jens.”

Sander’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t give them any explanation?”

“Sander,” Robbe snorted. “They might not even come back. And if they do, they’ll assume I’m asleep and continue on in their own little bubble. Don’t worry.”

Sander focused on the two syllables of his name in Robbe’s light, lilting voice and didn’t worry about it. “Are you at least going to tell me if it’s far? You could’ve told me to where walking shoes.”

Robbe snuck another glance at him and shook his head. “What would be the fun in that?”

Sander groaned in response and Robbe finally took pity on him, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not far. You’ll manage. You have longer legs and everything.”

Robbe finally grinned, and though it was teasing and left Sander narrowing his eyes in response, it also sent his heart flapping around in his ribcage. He didn’t care where they were going or how far it was. He was already with Robbe, and that was already enough.

Still, he was glad when it didn’t even take another ten minutes of walking before Robbe turned off into a darker street and beckoned Sander after him once more. Sander followed slowly, lightening his steps. The air seemed to grow quieter, even though they had already been walking through mostly empty streets. They were rounding a large brick building, plain and worn with all the windows dark, looking as if it hadn’t seen life in years. Robbe went right to the back door before taking a paperclip out of his pocket and sliding it into the lock.

Sander’s eyes widened and he took a step closer to him. “*Robbe.”

“Shhh,” Robbe hissed back.

Sander lowered his voice to the same tone. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m opening the door.”

“Robbe,” Sander tried again. Robbe ignored him, continuing his work, and it only took a few seconds before the lock popped and he swung the door open.

He looked around at Sander and raised his brows, holding the door open and sweeping his arm through. “Babies first.”

Sander pulled a face at him and didn’t move, sneaking a hesitant glance into the darkness. Robbe slipped his phone out of his pocket and shone the small flashlight through the door.

Then he held out his hand.

Sander stared at it, pulse kicking up. Robbe wiggled his fingers. Sander reached out to grasp them.

Aside from the tight squeeze Robbe initially gave, his grip was unexpectedly light. Sander hadn’t quite prepared himself for the gentle touch, or for the uptick of Robbe’s lips seconds later. Devious and sparkling, maybe, but pleased nonetheless. He took a small step backwards into the dark and rugged Sander with him. “Come.”

Sander went.

The building was cold, and Sander was glad for the thick hoodie under his jacket and the warmth of Robbe’s palm, pressing closer against his as he guided him through an empty room. Sander shuffled his phone out of his own pocket, but Robbe stopped him before he could turn on the torch. He waved his own light at another doorway, and Sander watched on, intrigued, as he swung it open with ease. Sander was left mourning the loss of his touch as he turned around to shine the torch on the wall, illuminating a light switch.

He gave Sander a cheshire grin and flicked it on.

The ceiling hummed with energy before six long overhead lights flickered to life, dull and dirty but enough to illuminate the expanse of the larger room in a yellow glow. The larger room that was filled with statue upon statue, sculptures filling the spaces in between. It was the sides of the room that took Sander by surprise—where painting upon painting lay stacked together, all in different styles and mediums and colours, all eye-catchingly beautiful.

Sander stared and stared and forgot that Robbe was watching him. He forgot to school his expression out of the automatic awe it fell into, lips parting and eyes widening and heart hammering. It was something right out of a dream.

“How?”

Robbe was examining him closely, he knew, but Sander still couldn’t look at him, still hadn’t taken everything in. “It’s just an old warehouse. This stuff has been here for years. I think it’s all pieces that got kicked out of the museums, some others from the college, some that people just wanted to store and then forgot about. Just, left here. All abandoned.”

Sander finally looked at him to find that he was now examining the room, gazing upon the art with something akin to sympathy. “All beautiful,” he said quietly.

Robbe looked back at him, and a new understanding passed silently between them. “You’re an artist, aren’t you?”

It was really unfair, how Robbe had managed to do this. Sander had worried, in brief moments before speaking to Robbe, if his feelings were misplaced. If he’d fabricated his own fantasy into a little too nice of a picture, of the reasons for his intrigue were unreasonable. It had only gotten worse, last month, the month before; but the feelings had stuck.

Then Robbe had come to him, and he’d left Sander even more smitten than before.

“You wanna admire, then?” Robbe raised a brow.

I’m already admiring.

Sander took a few careful steps towards the closest sculpture, a twisted mass of wires that he couldn’t quite figure out but enjoyed nonetheless. He did a slow lap of it before moving on, to a sculpture of a man curled around himself, body locked tight and head bowed, hidden. Sander crouched down next to it, allowing himself to reach out and skim his fingertips over the ridges. “I wish I had my camera.”

“Wait.”

He looked up and watched Robbe reach into his pocket, before he pulled out a small disposable camera. He held it up, then tossed it to Sander before stuffing his hands back in his pockets. Sander examined the object and laughed. “Cute.”

Robbe rolled his eyes, but he’d spent the past ten minutes smiling.

Sander ducked his head to hide his own grin and snapped a photo of the statue.

He took his time wandering around the room, and Robbe let him, following quietly. Sander would admire, and Robbe would joke (“it’s metaphorical, how he’s standing under an invisible weight”; “he’s taking an invisible shit”), and it all felt too easy. It was all too good to be true.

Robbe pushed the camera down when Sander pointed it at him, and while Sander expected to be told off, Robbe merely said, “Don’t use it all up yet. I have one more surprise.”

Sander blinked at him and was granted another grin. His heart fluttered as Robbe retook his hand.

“Come.”

Robbe led him to the corner of the back corner of the room, where it opened into a small hallway. They walked to the end and turned into a stairwell. Robbe let go of his hand and winked at him before leading the way down. Sander allowed himself to admire him as he followed, cataloguing all the bumps and shadows of his curls, how his coat swallowed his thin shoulders but his sweatpants hugged his legs. Then his thoughts turned silly, turned to thinking about how he wanted to hug Robbe himself, and he shook himself out of it before the other boy could notice.

There was another door at the bottom, heavier than the others, and Robbe had to press his whole side together to shove it open. Sander did his best to bite back his laugh. Robbe glared over his shoulder at him anyway.

Once Robbe flicked on this light switch, however, all thoughts of laughter left Sander as his breath wooshed out of him.

This space was a maze of gray, stone walls overlapping and interconnecting.

Or it would be, if the entire space wasn’t covered in dozens of pieces of brilliantly bright graffiti.

“Robbe,” Sander breathed. “What?”

Robbe waved at the space, watching him carefully. “You’re an artist, but this is your favourite kind of art. Isn’t it?”

Sander could have kissed him.

He swallowed, and then his lips were curling into a grin. They stared each other down, and Robbe’s eyes widened in understanding just a second before Sander took off, racing for a gap in the walls.

“You’re such a child,” Robbe yelled after him, but he was already chasing.

Sander laughed and kept going, whipping around corners and whizzing past bright bursts of orange and blue and red and green and every colour in between. He didn’t even bother pausing to take it all in. It was already enough to know he was surrounded by it, encased in the whirl of colours, and that Robbe was right behind him.

Until he wasn’t, because he was right in front of him.

Sander skidded to a stop, breathless, and reveled in Robbe’s hands catching his chest, in the laugh spilling out of him as he looked up at Sander. He liked Robbe most, like this. Softer, brightened, smiling. When it became obvious that he wasn’t pushing Sander away, that he’d taken a moment to trust him enough that he didn’t have to hide himself.

The smile smoothed out slowly as Sander continued to stare at him, and he grew suddenly more serious, tongue poking out to lick over his lip for a split second before he dropped his hands from Sander’s chest.

“You didn’t believe that I know you as well as you know me, right?” Robbe asked.

Suddenly, it clicked.

“Well, for example,” Robbe started, “I know that you’re also a bit of an insomniac. I know you’re an art cliche, and you especially like graffiti, even though that just might be a thrill thing. Your best friends are Noor Bauwens and Lucas Van Der Heiden. Noor is your best best-friend while Lucas is almost like an older brother, who is also dating my best friend and who I also now live with because of reasons. You’re a tease. You do this weird little snort instead of laughing and it would be funny if it wasn’t so cute. You never take off your ring.”

He nodded at Sander’s hand, and Sander brought his hands together to twist the ring around his finger before looking back up at Robbe. It shouldn’t have been possible, with them having been already toe to toe, but he seemed even closer than before.

“And I don’t know this yet,” Robbe continued quietly, eyes dropping to Sander’s lips. “But I’m willing to bet that you’re a fucking good kisser.”

Sander’s breath stopped.

It was hard to think, with Robbe looking at him like that, with Robbe so close, so he kept his thoughts simple. He ran through all their texts messages, the ease with which their conversations flowed, the lightness of the jibes passed between them. He ran through their first proper meeting, when he could do nothing but stare at Robbe and hear his blood rushing in his ears, thinking that it was too soon even as he berated himself for not meeting him sooner. He ran through the months before that, when all he could do was watch Robbe from afar and tamp down the need in him, the desire to seek that thrill more than he wanted to do anything else.

He ran through this night up until now, when the nerves were spilling and spiking through each of his veins before he set his eyes on Robbe and it all slipped away. When he’d finally understood their plans, and he hadn’t bothered to hide his surprise or his overexcitement that always came with setting his eyes on art. When he’d thought of muting his joy to a more acceptable level, so as not to affect Robbe’s possible feelings for him, and then he’d quickly tossed it aside.

He didn’t need to hide either, with Robbe. He didn’t have to be nervous. With Robbe, he was enigmatic and unabashed and alive. He wasn’t a problem to solve or a case to crack or a pity project.

With Robbe, he was known.

Robbe’s hands moved to his cheeks as Sander’s found their place on his waist, and Robbe pushed up on his toes as Sander leaned down and their lips met in the middle.

And Sander breathed.

It was nothing and everything like he’d imagined. Meaning he’d expected defensive, edgy, tight-lipped Robbe to be harsh and he wasn’t, and he’d expected it to bliss and it was.

Robbe’s lips were soft and slow, but demanding, taking everything Sander had to give and still going back for more; though he gave just as much in return. His hands had found their way around Sander, one sliding into his hair and the other wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him in until they were pressed together from head to toe.

It still wasn’t close enough.

Sander was vibrating. Sander was floating. Sander was on fire.

He was dying.

He’d never felt more alive.

Sander—Sander was kissing someone.

Sander was kissing Robbe.

Sander was kissing someone and that someone was Robbe and Robbe was kissing him back.

They parted for air. Well, Robbe did; Sander didn’t need it. Air wasn’t important. Getting his lips back on Robbe’s was. Robbe allowed it, and Sander hadn’t even realised his lips had turned up in a grin and that Sander himself had mimicked it, and that kissing was quite impossible when one didn’t have complete control over their mouth.

Then Robbe scratched through his hair, and made a noise like an aborted giggle, and Sander pulled back to rest their heads together and sneak a kiss to his nose.

Robbe’s nose wrinkled in response, so Sander kissed it again.

Robbe nudged their lips together once more, brief, and then mumbled, “Thank fuck I was right.”

Sander snorted. “Would have been a deal-breaker for you, would it?”

Robbe hummed, tilting his head side to side, but he kissed Sander again and Sander forgot to care about anything else.

~^~

next chapter

#sobbe #rosander #robbe x sander #wtfock #sobbe social media au #the stars look very different #tslvd

171 notes · View notes

jazzytriestowrite · 5 years ago

Text

Date night | Takami Keigo (Hawks) X Reader

Fandom; My hero academia

Pairing: Takami Keigo (Hawks) X GN Reader

Synopsis: Late nights and long mornings, quarantine has made it hard for y/n to see anyone, more or less their boyfriend hawks. Feeling bad for leaving his s/o alone in their empty home, hawks plans a date night for the both of them to relax and enjoy the little time they have together.

Warnings: A bit of angst at the start, but after that bone rotting fluff.

Word Count: 4,778

A/N: This lovely fic is apart of quarantine fluff collab that the discord server crackhead sanctuary put together. Thank you Sof @myherowritings who hosted this, and I can't wait to read everyones fics!! Also this lovely banner was made by @sanurrwrites and I'm very thankful!!!

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

It hit us unexpectedly.

The drastic change in how we did everything was overwhelming, and many of us didn’t really think it would be such a big deal at first. It was a silly virus that would be cured within weeks, nothing to really worry about. So everyone continued about their normal lives, happy that the virus wasn’t in their country, happy it wasn’t them. It simply wasn’t our problem right?

Wrong.

Everything flipped and turned upside down when the unknown and mysterious virus finally hit Japan. While earlier we thought it wasn’t our problem, what are we supposed to say now that it's at our front door? Affecting our neighbors, our friends, our students and our heroes who protect society. No one really cares until it's your problem.

The first death the virus caused made everyone realize just how serious this was. This wasn’t some joke, people's lives were actually in danger and things needed to be done to protect the citizens from a virus that was on a killing spree.

That meant no more social gatherings.

Someone might ask- Well that doesn’t sound too bad? What's wrong with not having to see people?

It was a problem to you, and many others.

Laying in bed day after day, letting the loneliness set in and the worry skyrocket about the current situation. You had taken the simple act of seeing someone in person for granted, and realized just how texting and calling wasn’t the same. You missed going out with friends and doing random things that made you happy. You missed going to the ice cream parlor down the street that would sell you ice cream and soothe all your sad and depressive feelings. What you missed the most was your boyfriend.

The sudden thought of him already made your eyes water and your heart clench. ‘’I miss you Keigo’’ You whispered to the darkness, pulling your warm blanket closer to your body for comfort. The bed that was made for two, suddenly felt way bigger than it needed to be without your boyfriend. ‘’I’m just being selfish, he’s keeping us protected’’

Keigo or Hawks as most society knows him, had been quite busy since the virus broke out in Japan. You’d think villains themselves would stay inside once they heard a virus could kill them, but it was quite the opposite. With no one outside to stop them from their wrongdoings, it was easier for them to commit their daily crimes. So that meant heroes never really got the break they thought they’d get.

While they risked their life everyday to protect citizens, the risk factor was now doubled because of the virus. Heros would continue to go out and protect homes, stores and people who needed it, not letting the virus keep them from doing their job.

It made you happy to know that your boyfriend was doing his job, and probably saving many lives with his patrols. It just hurt that you couldn’t really see him anymore. He was gone before you woke up, and back away after you’ve closed your eyes. You had tried multiple times to keep yourself awake, but never seemed to make it.

You missed his laughter, the way he grinned after getting on your nerves and the stupidly cute smile that would make your heart flutter. You missed his bear hugs and his butterfly kisses all over your face. You missed everything about him down to his annoying antics and crazy eating habits. You had taken it all for granted and now all you had was yourself and the little notes he would leave behind.

‘’I love you Keigo, goodnight baby, stay safe’’ You whispered to the darkness, hoping your words would get to him. Closing your eyes, you snuggled into your body pillow and fell asleep within minutes.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

A couple hours later, the front door of your home creaked open. A blonde male entered quietly, or what he thought was quiet. His posture was slouched, and the eye bags under his eyes gave a clear giveaway that he was tired. ‘’Shit’’ He glanced at the clock and saw it was around 3 am, meaning you had fallen asleep some time ago. His red wings felt heavier than usual, and the thought of sleeping by the front door so he wouldn’t have to climb the stars to the bedroom, was seeming like a good idea.

Keigo shook that idea out of his head, if anything, he wanted to see you, even if you were already sleeping. He felt filthy, so maybe a shower before he got into bed. Even though he was sprayed with every cleaning spray known to man before coming back to your shared apartment, he still took extra precaution when coming home to you. Constantly checking his temperature, and wearing a mask and goggles to keep you protected. You were his little dole, he’d never get over the regret if he passed a virus on to you.

Slugging upstairs, he yelled in fright when he felt himself falling forward towards the steps. At first he didn’t even fight it, trying to save himself from marks on his face from steps seemed like too much work. However, his wings spread out as much as they could, leaving the males face hovering over the steps he was just about to kiss. ‘’Oh’’ He mumbled, the simple thought to use his wings had flown out of his head. God he was so tired. Standing back up, he carefully treaded up the stairs, trying to be more quiet now that he was getting closer to the bedroom.

Opening the bedroom door as quiet as he could, his yellow eyes found your body first. Walking closer he stared down at your sleeping form, a small smile appearing under his mask. ‘’Hi baby, I’m home’’ he said softly, before he frowned. He noticed the tear lines on your face and his heart suddenly felt heavy. Just the thought of you crying without him here to comfort you was truly heartbreaking. You weren’t the only one who missed their partner, since he was surely feeling the same loneliness as you.

He teared his eyes off of you finally, walking away and into your shared bathroom. Shutting the door behind him, he turned on the light and let gaze find the mirror. His rough appearance made him cringe. His golden blonde hair was matted down poking in every direction, eye bags were prominent and his gorgeous smile was covered by this stupid white mask. Reaching up, he ripped the mask off his face, cringing at the red lines he saw of having to wear it so often. All of this sucked. Yet if it meant keeping you and others safe, he would wear this mask for eternity.

About an hour later, he’d showered and dressed in the clothes he’d be sleeping in. All today's grime and cleaning products washed off his skin leaving it spotless. As he stood in front of the mirror, brushing his teeth half heartedly, the thought of you crying earlier was still fresh in his mind. While you wouldn’t tell him you were lonely and wanted more, he knew better. He had been with you for some years now, he knew you inside out. He knew that whilst he had it hard, you were equally suffering.

Within the first two weeks of Covid 19, your student Bakugou Katsuki had caught the virus and was hospitalized due to it. You had cried for 4 days straight, and nothing he said made you feel any better. Being a U.A teacher meant you had worried even more for your students, who were still kids and had places to go.

Keigo felt terrible that he was putting extra stress on you since he still had to do his duties, and that everything wasn’t easy on you just because you were home and hopefully safe.

‘’I’ll make it up, we’ll both have some fun soon’’ He said to himself in the mirror, before spitting out the nasty toothpaste and rinsing his mouth out with some cold water. Finally finishing up, he turned the bathroom light off and trudged towards the bed. Climbing in lazily, he wiggled under the comforter you were hogging to yourself. As his head hit the pillow, he had to keep himself from falling asleep on the spot. The soft fluffy pillow almost sent him to heaven. Scooting closer to you, he wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you closer to him, his head resting in the crook of your neck. Your hair didn’t even bother him, if anything the smell of your shampoo calmed him.

‘’I love you y/n, goodnight dove, I’m home and safe’’ Keigo whispered to you before finally letting his eyes slip close, knowing in a few hours he’d be gone again. Yet getting to hold you before he went to sleep always made his mornings and days easier.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Sometime before the sun came up, you had felt the bed move, and the warm arms that were keeping you secure left again. You wouldn’t lie, the disappointment you felt hit harder than anything. And when you heard the bedroom lightly shut behind Keigo, you simply wrapped your arms around yourself, hoping to mimic the arms of your lover. Yet his arms and presence were unique, so of course you couldn’t replace his embrace.

You don’t remember falling back asleep, so it confused you when you suddenly felt the bright rays of sun on your face. ‘’Oh, Good morning I guess’’ You mumbled as you sat up, trying to rub the sleepiness out of your eyes. Shielding your eyes from the sunlight with your right hand, you looked around for the one thing that always made your morning.

‘’There it is!’’ You say happily as you roll out of bed and towards the dresser that was next to the bathroom. On Top of the wooden dresser was a handwritten note covered in chicken stickers, and a red rose next to it. Grinning you grabbed both items and jumped back into bed, excited to see what the dumb bird had wrote for today.

Ever since the pandemic started, and since Keigo had been having long shifts, he’d always left letters for you to read in the morning, and a different coloured rose everyday. It made him leaving easier, and the fact that he spent time writing and putting his feelings into them always sparked joy.

Carefully opening the note, you were met with Keigo’s chicken scratch handwriting. You loved him, but one day you were going to give him writing lessons. You shook your head in amusement, ignoring the bad handwriting, you began reading.

‘Good Morning Chickadee,

I hope you had a good sleep baby, I came home late again but as soon as I had the chance you were in my arms. You cuddled up to me instantly, what if I was some intruder? I guess even in your sleep you recognize me and my godliness.

Anyways, I apologize for once more coming home late beautiful. Work has been a bit stressful, but I believe we’ve put a dent on the villains plans. Only small time villains are really causing trouble, and were handling it pretty well. I think sooner or later we won’t need so much patrolling anymore. Hopefully soon, I wanna spend time with my lil nugget.

Oh! I have some news.

Someway or another, I will get off early today and spend some very much needed time between the two of us.

Not to be too sappy in this letter, but, I really miss you y/n. Way more than words can describe. It’s lonely patrolling instead of being home with you and having fun, and honestly just the thought of coming home to you at night is the only way I’m getting through my days at work.

I miss you and the weird laughter you let out at my god awful jokes, I miss you and the way your eyes sparkle when you look at something you like, I miss you and the way you love me unconditionally even when i’m being a weird asshole.

I love you y/n, and I’ll see you tonight dove.

-The best boyfriend ever

ps. You mumbled my name in your sleep.. Having some good dreams huh ;)’

‘’I hate him so much’’ You say while grinning and holding the note towards your chest, your heart beating like crazy. It was weird he still had this affect on you despite dating for a few years, but you hoped this feeling never went away. Neatly folding the note back to how it was, you crawled to the edge of the bed and pulled out a container that was hidden under the bed. Popping the lid off, you placed the note from today alongside the other notes you’ve received over the weeks.

‘’I love you Keigo’’ You whisper lovingly before closing the box once more, sliding the box back under your bed. Picking up the rose you abandoned, you smiled at it. The red rose was beautiful, and it seemed your lover had taken the time to cut the thorns off it.

Shaking your head with a smile, you stood up and walked out the bedroom, your feet padding against the cold ground. ‘’God it’s freezing” You mumble out loud shivering physically, before heading into the kitchen. Opening the window above the sink, you see a cast of 7 different colored roses from this week alone. ‘’Here's your new home’’ You say softly to the red rose before placing it in the vase next to the others.

Leaning against the sink, your gaze wandered to the window or more specifically what's outside the window. The beautiful flowers that were blooming outside made your mood feel lighter, and hearing the kids laughter who was next door made your heart clench in joy.

You couldn’t wait to start a family with the love of your life.

Now that you were up, you would start your daily routine of going with the flow and seeing where the day would take you. Hoping that Keigo would keep his promise in the note and come home early so you could shower him with much needed affection

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Sighing, you turned off the tv with the remote, eyes getting tired of staring at the same screen for hours. Looking over at the clock, you read it was currently 8pm. While your boyfriend said he’d be home tonight, it was starting to get late and you were questioning if he’d actually show.

Not that it’s his fault or anything, you knew his job could get stressful. Yet that wouldn’t stop the disappointment that started to set in, which was a very valid feeling.

Standing up you begin to head towards the bathroom, planning to simply take a bath before getting comfy in your bed and reading, a hobby you picked up after quarantine.

‘’HONEY I’M HOME’’

A voice shouts after forcefully kicking down the door, startling you and making you flinch. None other then Takami fucking Keigo was standing at the door, wings tucked neatly behind his back, huge grin on his face and two grocery bags in both hands.

‘’Keigo, you scared me’’ You say with an angry look before everything set in. ‘’Wait.. Keigo..’’ The light bulb in your head turned on and before your brain could process it anymore, you were flying across the room and jumping into your lovers arm.

Keigo let out a grunt at the sudden attack, but smiled at your innocent gesture. He placed the bags down and wrapped his arms around your body, spinning you around as he bear hugged you. ‘’I’ve missed you too’’ He says, kissing the top of your head. ‘’I told you’d I’d be home tonight, I hope you didn’t lose hope’’ He says as he grins down at your sheepish expression.

‘’No worries though’’ He comments before picking back up the backs he previously dropped. ‘’So, I have a whole plan in mind for tonight, which I am very excited for’’ He says before kicking the door shut and walking into the kitchen. He places the bags on the counter, ‘’So just sit back and relax and I’ll make this a date night you’ll never forget.’’

You tilt your head in curiosity, now wanting to know what this bird brain had planned, but you couldn’t help but get excited along with him. It had been a while since the two of you properly hung out with each other. ‘’So Mister ‘’I have everything planned out already’ what's on the agenda right now?

‘’Well Chickadee, we are gonna make dinner together’’ Keigo says with a bright smile, but cringe when he see’s your deadpanned expression. ‘’Don’t look at me like that dove, I promise it isn’t what you think it is’’

You saw through his desperate attempt to lie. ‘’Kiego did you plan on making chicken again’’ You say while staring him down, and when you see his head hang in shame you laugh. Stepping closer to the male you lift his head back up and press a quick kiss against his lips. ‘’It’s okay, I don’t mind having chicken for the seventh time in the row. Your cooking is actually pretty good’ You comment before stepping away, tying up your hair so you could help as well.

‘’WOO!’’ Keigo winked as he gave you finger guns, ‘’Chicken never gets old babe, thought you knew this’’ When you responded by throwing said bag of chicken at him he screeched before catching it and laughing.

You pull out your phone and play your favourite playlist, so the two of you could bop while cooking. ‘’Oh we can make cookies as dessert! It’s the one thing I can actually bake’’ You say sheepishly, sticking out your tongue when your lover nods in agreement.

With that, the two of you jammed quietly as you began the preparation of dinner.

While you were pouring the cups of flour into the big mixing bowl, you suddenly got the idea to terrorize the male who was singing quietly behind you. Scooping some in your hands, you turn around and innocently call out his name. You wait until the perfect moment. Which is when he turns around fast, a small smile on his face as he quirks his brow. He immediately see’s what you're about to do, but it's too late anyways.

You blow the white powder in your hand right at him, watching as he closes his eyes and screams. ‘’Y/N!! IT'S ON NOW’’

And while you thought this was a good idea at first, when you saw Keigo open his eyes and reveal the determination within them, you mentally cursed. And from there started the flour war, with the two of you giggling while throwing flour at each other.

It ended when you were running to throw some flour at him, but ended up instead eating shit and busting your ass on the wooden floor. Keigo, who was concerned, couldn’t help but start laughing as he helped you off, dusting the flour out of your hair. ‘’Oh gosh, we’ve made a mess of the kitchen’’

Looking around he was right, everywhere you looked there was flour, and now the two of you regretted ever touching the damn powder.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

After some cleaning, and a mini dance session to a couple of songs, the food was finally ready and the two of you sat at the table eating together.

‘’Yeah there was this big spider and I was so scared, I yelled for you and then realized I’d have to get rid of it myself’’ You spoke between bites, your eyes lighting up as you continued telling the story of how a huge spider made its way inside your home.

Kiego just stared at you silently, his mind not even processing your words anymore. You were so cute when you started to ramble, he honestly missed the way you would get so into your stories. Sometimes he didn’t think you were real, you were too perfect. But he was glad you were his, because at the end of the day, he was wholeheartedly yours and he was glad you shared the sentiment.

You two continued to chat as you ate, nothing too important just random chatter to fill the silence. The two of you had so much to tell each other that you didn’t even know much time had passed. Two hours had passed by in the blink of the eye, and you didn’t notice until you glanced at the clock behind you. ‘’Wow it’s getting late’’ You comment, putting the dry dish where it was supposed to go, stepping away from the sink.

Keigo nods, ‘’Time sure does pass when you’re having fun’’ He says with a soft smile, before taking your hand in his, ‘’Come on, I have one more activity I wanna do before sleeping’’ He said as he picked up the last bag that was still sitting on the counter.

You nod, trying to get a peek inside the bag only to be met with him pulling it closer to his body. Letting out a pout, you followed as he pulled you upstairs, nearly sliping as your socks slid across the wooden stairs. ‘’Jeez, the stairs are trying to kill me’’ You complain, glad when the two of you reach the bedroom.

Kiego then whips around, ‘’You should go clean up, you know to get the flour out of your hair’’ He says nervously, and while you wanted to ask why he suddenly started acting weird, a voice inside your head told you just to listen. You simply nodded and gave him a grin, ‘’Okay I will, better not run away while I do’’ You say before going inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

Keigo lets out a deep breath, his eyes drifting to the bag in his hand. ‘’Don’t fail me now’’ he whispered to himself as encouragement.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Finally done with washing your hair, and getting the flour out of random places you stared at the door in front of you. It was obvious he was doing something out there since you heard his hard footsteps running all around the place. Yet you wanted to give him all the time he needed, and the fact that he was trying to surprise you was cute.

Suddenly, you hear music start to play, making your brows furrow. It sounded like that one song..

‘’Dove you can come out now,,’’ You heard the slight panic in his voice, which made you nervous too. Pushing those feelings aside, you open the door and slowly peak out.

‘What would I do without your smart mouth?

Drawing me in, and you kicking me out

You've got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down

What's going on in that beautiful mind

I'm on your magical mystery ride

And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright’

You stand in shock as the lyrics start to reach your ears, which was the song the two of you danced to when he first confessed his love to you. The next thing that almost brought you to tears was the sight in front of you.

Standing in the dim moonlight, your lover was standing proud and tall in the balcony, a nervous smile on his face. Leading up to him were red and pink rose petals, some thrown on the bed as well.

‘’Keigo’’ You whisper as you start walking in his direction, not even caring that the petals stuck to your feet as you walked.

‘My head's under water

But I'm breathing fine

You're crazy and I'm out of my mind’

You finally reach your lover, who in fact still has some flour in his hair. Yet that didn’t matter, because all you could see was his beautiful face, the way his blonde locks flowed in the wind, and how his golden eyes sparkled with an emotion you knew all too well.

Love.

‘’Hi my love, I wanted to end the night really special’’ Keigo whispers as his hands find their way to your waist, pulling you in as your arms wrapped around his neck.

’Cause all of me

Loves all of you

Love your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me

I'll give my all to you’

The two of you start to sway to the song, your eyes staring into his honey coloured ones. You were caught in a trance, a trance you didn’t really mind at all.

You loved this man more than anything and anyone you knew. Even when he was being a weirdo or saying unfunny jokes, you always found him entertaining. You loved him and all his imperfections. Arguments never tend to last long between you guys as of the unconditional love you had for one another.

As the song started to come to an end, you laid your head on his shoulder, embracing this moment and engraving it in your mind. Tonight was simply perfect, and while the two of you didn’t do much, you still had a blast with your boyfriend.

’I give you all of me

And you give me all of you, oh oh’

You pulled your head off his shoulder when he started to sing the final lines of the song, a genuine smile on his face. ‘’Kei-’’ As the song turns off, he suddenly lets go of your waist and bends down onto one knee, his hand reaching inside his pocket.

‘’ Ah, so here I go’’ The male says as a blush covering his face and running up to his ears. You stand there shocked, your hands coming up to cover your mouth.

‘’Quarantine has been pretty rough haha, but it has taught me a lesson. The world is a scary place, and when this virus pops out of nowhere, I’ve noticed that anything can happen. It’s scary to think that villains aren’t are only problems, but some killer disease could sweep over and take away our happy lives’’

Keigo takes a deep breath, before putting on a nervous smile.

‘’These last few days that I’ve been apart from you made me realize that I never, NEVER, want to be away from you again. I realized that I want to spend all my time that I have left here with you. Y/N, I love you so much’’ He laughs, ‘’I’ve been nothing but happy with you, and you bring out the best in me, and without you I wouldn’t have found myself. I never thought I’d find love, If anything, I just thought I was made to be a hero and nothing more. But I’ve figured out that I can be a hero and also love you.’’

‘’You are my pride and joy, my dove, my chickadee, my beautiful lover...What I’m trying to say is, I love your last name, But I’d prefer if you’d take mine’’

You giggle at his words, tears slipping down your face. You were speechless, and honestly couldn’t even compel yourself to say anything.

‘’Y/N L/N, will you make me the happiest bird every and marry me?’’

You can’t help the shit eating grin on your face as you stare down at your lover, your best friend and the best thing that has ever happened to you. ‘’Keigo’’ You say as more tears fall down your face, your voice shaking as your brain processes everything that just happened. ‘’Yes duh! Who would say no to you’’ You yell, your bottom lip trembling as he stands up and slips the gorgeous diamond ring onto your finger, kissing the ring after he placed it.

‘’I love you’’ The two of you whisper at the same time, both of you gazing into each other's eyes. The both of you were crying, and it made it more special to see him showing so much emotion.

Keigo leaned in slowly, ‘’I’ve loved you for many years Y/N, and I’ll continue to love you until my dying days’’ He says softly before pressing his lips against yours, one hand holding your cheek and the other bringing your waist closer to him.

And with that, moonlight shined on the newly engaged couple, who still had their whole life ahead of them.

#kiego takami #Bnha writing blog #bnha fluff #hawks x reader #fluff

520 notes · View notes

seokoloqy · 5 years ago

Text

No Face | myg (m)

➳ PAIRING: demon!yoongi x reader

➳ GENRE: supernatural!au, smut

➳ WORD COUNT: 11k

➳ WARNINGS: mentions of hoseok in a car accident and in a coma, mentions of jungkook overdosing, blood, choking (not sexual lmao), fingering, dirty talk, wet dreams, voyeurism, masturbation, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, creampie, Yoongi’s dick... has ridges :)

➳ SUMMARY: Desperate to save your comatose brother, you make a deal with an ancient demon who wears the faces of his previous masters. When you refuse to wish for anything else, what does a demon do when he no longer has orders? He learns how to be human.

➳ A/N: this is my @bangtanarmynet partner collab w @softjeon!!! As always lemme know what you think!!! Maybe now y’all can get over hades yoongi lmao

—

The woods this time of night should be petrifying in the harsh dead of winter. Darkness entraps everything in the forest. You've been wandering through the desolate woods for an hour now, trying to find the exact location you were told about. The tree you’re in search of has been rumored to be a site where people's wishes can be granted for a steep price. Only meant for those who are brave enough to sacrifice everything for one wish.

And you are dumb enough to sacrifice everything.

You have to do this. Even if it means sacrificing your soul, your life, to save someone else's. You have to save your brother, Hoseok, and you’ll do anything—absolutely anything.

That’s how you stumbled across Jimin, an expert on all things supernatural, in a desperate attempt to find a miracle.

Of course, you thought the eighty dollar price for Jimin’s absurd secrets meant it was a hoax, especially when he started explaining how this deal you were about to make works.

“A demon,” the man said cheerfully, plopping down the thick book in front of you.

“A demon?” you echoed, becoming more and more wary of the man. “Like… Like the devil and stuff?”

If you weren’t so desperate and had exhausted all your ideas of helping Hoseok, you would have run out once he said demon, calling him crazy.

Jimin nodded, excitedly flipping open the book for a specific page. “This demon grants wishes. Anything you want, as long as you’re willing to pay the price.”

That sends chills through you. You look down at the yellowed pages, skimming through the text, none of which you understood because it was all written in a different language. “What kind?”

“Ten years. That’s all it gives you.”

You had a feeling after ten years nothing good would happen. Jimin flips the page and on it is an ink drawing of a haunched creature, grotesque claws, and the face was nothing but a black smudge.

“After ten years the demon will consume your soul and steal your face to make it its own.”

The whole time you wander through the woods, boots crunching against the thick blanket of snow, pushing aside dead branches. The day has come to rest over the horizon and the moon rose over the valley, you feel like you've ventured even deeper into the void and there's no going back to safety now.

The deeper you wander into the abyss, the more you feel something eerie watching over you. Its eyes crawl over you, stalking your every movement like it wants to steal you away and trap you in its grasp. It must be the demon watching over you, hoping you must be foolish enough to come looking for it.

The tree Jimin told you about is supposedly easy to spot. Twisted branches, ancient text carved into the trunk of the tree that was all dead language. The area around it is untouchable not even the freshly falling snow can touch it. The tree is timeless, years will pass and it will remain the same even as generations live and die.

Your boots sink deep into the snow with each stride you take, pulling you deeper into the forest.

There is a low hum, a haunting call echoing through the trees and ringing in your ears that guides you towards the edge of a steep ledge. At the bottom, you get a glimpse of the twisted branches, scarred trunk scrawled with carvings, a perfect dark circle around the tree that remains untouched by the snow.

You carefully move down the slope to the tree, nearly sliding down and falling in the fluffy snow below. Once you step into the circle it’s warm, almost like summer heat. You look back at the blanket of snow, taking off your glove and sticking your hand outside of the circle to feel the cold biting your fingers. The drastic change in temperature is startling. This is definitely the right tree.

The backpack on your shoulder slides off and you crouch down to retrieve the knife you brought along, carefully tucked away in the pocket of the bag. The intimidating silver blade gleams and reflects beneath the moonlight as you inspect it.

Should you really be bringing a deadly weapon to meet a demon?

It doesn’t seem like the brightest idea, but then again none of this is a good idea. You’ve gotten this far, so desperate to save Hoseok you don’t even care right now if the demon will take your life in the end.

"Here goes nothing," you say, taking a deep breath in before running the blade across your palm. The burn of your open wound is temporary, stinging at your flesh is cut open and blood flows freely and meets to open air. Red blood pools in your palm, your other hand wiping away tears that have sprung in your eyes. "Fuck this. Fuck all this shit."

The tree seems to glow, sensing the new sacrifice about to come. You hesitantly lift your bloodied palm, blood freely flowing down your wrists and dripping off your elbow, tainting the dirt ground below.

There's no going back if you choose to press your hand against this tree and tie the demon trapped in it to you, but you won't let that fear hold you back from saving your brother.

You press your hand against the trunk, wincing when the rough wood touches your open wound. Blood drips down the wood, sinking into the slits and crevices. Your hand tingles with warmth and you no longer feel the pain in your palm. When blinding light emits from the tree, it forces you to clench your eyelids shut and turn away.

Soon the light fades and you're left in the chilling darkness, but not alone. The hairs on your arm begin to stand as a warning. You're afraid to open your eyes and be met with whatever creature you've just summoned.

"Why so afraid, master?" The voice, not a singular voice, more like multiple distorted voices speaking at once, calls out to you. "You're trembling. Is it because of the cold or are you just afraid of me?"

You bring your hand back from the tree, still refusing to open your eyes. "The cold."

"Liar," the creature says, monotone voice lowering to your ears. "You're a liar."

"No," your voice betrays you by cracking and you wince, afraid that its volatile personality will snap at you.

"Then look at me, master.”

The oil lamp flickers in its glass case creating an ominous atmosphere surrounding you. You force yourself to peek one eye open, seeing the tree bark stained red with your blood. Slowly, you turn your head, met with the horrifying creature. The face you're met with is no face at all. Just a black abyss looking back at you. It takes everything to hold your tongue and not scream out.

"Are you afraid?" It asks again.

"No." The wavering in your voice remains the same and the no faced creature scoffs.

"You’re a liar, but then again, they all are."

You cross your arm, refusing to let the creature control your feelings. "Maybe I am a liar, b-but you’re supposed to answer to me.”

The creature stands taller, mimicking your crossed arms. "You're right, master. So what is it you want?"

You wet your lips, "I need you to save my brother."

"Save?" It sneers. “I’ve never had to save anyone.”

You find the strength to explain, “M-My brother, Hoseok, he was in a car accident. The doctors said he might not…”

You didn’t need to hear the dreadful news from the doctors when you went to first visit Hoseok. You could see him through the glass window at the hospital hooked up to wires and tubes and it was clear to you that he was on the brink of death. He looked so lifeless. You could hardly stand the sight of your brother that way. You were too afraid to go into his room—afraid you’d feel death lingering by his side waiting to take him away from you forever.

The demon inches closer, curious now.

You resist shutting your eyes to block out its dark ghostly face. You’ll never be able to stand in the dark without imagining it lingering in the corner, watching and waiting to drag you into the darkness with it.

“Fine,” the demon sighs, lifting its hand. A hand that looks so real, not the grotesque claws you saw in Jimin’s book, if you hadn’t seen its face you would have believed it was human.

You flinch in fear it will grab you, steal your face early, or rip you to shreds. Instead, it snaps its fingers. You don’t feel muscles being pulled to shreds, your insides boiling, or anything physically painful happening to you.

“He’ll wake soon,” it says, dismissively shrugging its shoulders. “So, when are we going to have real fun, master? What do you really want? Money? Power? Name it. I’m dying to know.”

“I don’t want anything else,” you say resolutely.

“Nothing?” it says, despite the distorted voice, you can tell it’s shocked. “You’re a liar. There has to be something. All you humans are greedy, pathetic creatures.”

“I won’t make any more wishes.”

It shakes its head, moving to the edge of the ring. It looks down, although you can’t see its face when it sticks out its hand to feel the snow for the first time in years you sense that it is remembering what it feels like to be free of its cage.

“Let’s go.”

It steps out of the circle and into the fresh snow, looking as its feet sink in. You trail after it, as it glides through the snow with ease while you’re lagging behind, trudging through the deep snow. You feel out of breath trying to keep up with its fast pace, nearly falling over a few times.

“C-Can you slow down a little?” You call out.

It turns its head, unsettling inky darkness looking back at you, teasingly saying, “if you can’t keep up why don’t you wish for better speed?”

You grimace and don’t reply. Luckily, it stops walking to let you catch up to it. You try and run through the snow to get to it faster because the feeling of that darkness staring at you is frightening. Running blindly through, your foot snags on a branch buried beneath the white blanket and you nose dive right into the freezing banks.

The creature laughs. Its laughter hauntingly echoing through the woods with its distorted voice.

“Poor human,” it mocks.

You look up from the snow, your entire face numb from the cold. You’re beginning to hate this demon.

You pick yourself up with no help from it, wiping off the snow and marching on as if nothing happened, quietly simmering behind the sauntering demon. You walk behind it once again, staring curiously at the back of its ‘head’. It’s not really a head, just darkness shaped like a human head.

"Is that your… normal face?" You pipe up.

"Yes. Does this face frighten you, master?” The demon stops, turning around to face you. “Would you like a new one? I have taken many over the years, and soon yours will be added to my ever-growing collection."

The thought of this demon taking your face and using it to cause harm is unsettling.

"Maybe you'd prefer a sweet innocent face," the demon says. His face begins to smoke and a real human face appears in a matter of seconds. The doe-like features of the young man would almost make you think this demon was an innocent human. "You might recognize this face.”

You’re surprised to see a familiar face. One that was plastered over billboards and television screens daily, a world-famous star that died suddenly.

“J-Jungkook?”

A roguish grin appears on the star’s face—one you never thought you’d see up close.

Jeon Jungkook was a household name, a boy that seemed to come out of nowhere and shook the world with his talents. You were a fan at the start of his career when he was just a humble musician that rose to stardom through the Internet.

“Ding ding ding,” he laughs, an all too familiar laugh you heard through the television during interviews countless times. “Bet you never thought you’d see this cute face again.”

“B-But you… you’re not him, right?”

It’s impossible. He died nearly three years ago due to an overdose, at least that’s what the media said.

“Yes, I’m not the golden boy you knew. He’s long gone.”

So the demon is just wearing Jungkook’s face.

“He made a deal too?” You couldn’t understand why he would want to make a deal with a demon. He had everything—the talent, personality, looks. It was hard not to love Jungkook.

“Do you think that video of him singing would have gotten recognition without my help? He wanted to be a famous singer so I gave him everything he desired. He was humble like you at first, then he began wishing for drugs, alcohol, and lovers. By the time I took his soul, it was like there was nothing left of it. He was too consumed by his own greed and became an empty shell.”

You know Jungkook’s story, the downfall of one of your favorite singers, publicized by the media. Not a day went by without hearing about Jungkook caught up in some drug scandal. You had no idea it was all because he wished for it.

Near the end of his life, you could tell how tired Jungkook was through the screen, he was no longer the energetic, lively kid you saw on talk shows. The dark circles under his eyes and bar fight bruises couldn’t be concealed with all the makeup in the world.

It broke your heart to see him that way. All because he couldn’t stop wishing for more. The circumstances of his death become clearer to you now. It wasn’t an overdose, he made a deal with a demon and paid the price.

What if that happens to you? What if you become too greedy? The thought of being consumed by selfish desires scares you. Who would you be in ten years if you were to continue making wishes? Just an empty shell like Jungkook, making wishes to fill the unfillable hole in your chest.

“I wonder what sins will eat you alive, master."

You shake your head, “No! No, I won’t be like that. I don’t want to.”

The demon scoffs, rolling his eyes as if to say ‘sure’.

“I guess, his face won’t do out there anyway. Too recognizable, I don’t want to cause a frenzy. Think of the headlines: Jeon Jungkook risen from the dead?” He laughs again.

It’s unsettling to see Jungkook’s face, knowing how tragic the end of his life must have been. Now he’s being used as a puppet by a demon who’s laughing as if his death was something to joke about.

What you’re really looking at is a mirror. This will be you in ten years time. The demon will take your soul, your face and parade around, wreaking havoc. A chill runs through you.

“Let’s try Yoongi’s face, shall we? I haven’t worn him in centuries.”

Soon the beloved singer, Jeon Jungkook, molds into a stranger. You watch in amazement as his features morph easily. Even his hair shifts colors, dark brown roots bleeding into bleach blonde hair.

“How about this one?” His voice is different—lower, much more mature. But whoever’s face he takes on doesn’t change what he is. He is still a demon. You can’t forget that no matter what face he wears.

“He’s fine,” you dismiss. You just want to get out of the forest and back to someplace warm. The cold is beginning to numb your fingers and bite at your cheeks.

“Yoongi it is.”

—

Your eyes dart nervously around the bar. It's not so busy tonight, unusual for this bar, but you're glad there are no roaring voices. This chance gives you time to think about what you've done.

Before you even got out of the woods, you received a phone call from your parents, tearful voices exclaiming that your brother woke up from his coma. Yoongi really had given your brother a second chance. But as soon as your joy had worn off, the realization came crashing down around you.

Sitting here, staring into a shot glass, you dare to glance over at the lounging demon haunched over the bar with his own drink. You're not sure what he ordered, your thoughts a bit clouded at the moment, but his glass is tall and filled with a clear teal liquid and topped with a maraschino cherry.

His finger drags up and down the stem of the glass, a bored sigh escaping his mouth. You eyes move from his hand and hesitantly drag up to his face. You nearly jump out of your chair, hairs standing up on the back of your neck when you realize he has been staring at you the whole time.

His eyes are brown, nothing like the vermillion red color they frequently flash whenever he feels up to no good.

"So," he drawls, picking up his martini glass, having a small sip. "What's on your mind?"

There are many racing thoughts going around your head right now. You've just signed the rest of your life away to a demon, saved your brother, and are currently sitting and having a drink with the demon that's going to end your life in ten years.

"Nothing," you lie, turning your head back to your drink.

"You really like to lie to me, don't you?"

You don't reply, glancing to the side and catching the eye of the bartender staring at you. He looks away, flustered that you caught him staring, continuing to wipe down the counter.

You, in a sort of dizzying state from alcohol, are keenly aware of how cute the bartender is. Your eyes trail down the name tag on his shirt. Taehyung, it says.

Eventually, Taehyung reaches your side and casually wipes down the area next to you.

"How's it goin' over here?" He asks.

"Good," Yoongi answers gruffly before you have the chance to open your mouth to answer.

You attempt to laugh Yoongi's curtness off, "Oh, yeah, everything is great."

"Well, you look lost in tonight, just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm just feeling a little conflicted."

From the corner of your eye, Yoongi looks betrayed that you chose to confide in the bartender instead of him even though he asked you the same question just two minutes ago. In your defense, you'd rather speak to the cute bartender than the demon who eats souls and steals faces. What kind of advice could a demon offer you?

"Feel like talking?" Taehyung asks, throwing the rag over his shoulder and leaning against the bar.

"Hey, cutie," a drunken slur comes from behind you and takes a seat to your right.

You involuntarily lean closer to Yoongi to get away from the stranger's alcoholic breath, grimacing when he smiles and winks in a sad attempt to flirt.

"Hi," you politely respond, turning your head to look back at Yoongi's now empty martini glass, the stem of his maraschino cherry sitting on the counter. You try not to give the stranger the opportunity to talk any further with you, but he's persistent.

“How you doin’ tonight?” he slurs.

“Great.” You offer him a close-lipped smile and that’s all he gets out of you.

You do your best to ignore the stranger continuously pestering your right ear, turning to occupy yourself with the Taehyung and Yoongi. Now, you'd rather talk to the demon on your shoulder than some creep at the bar.

It’s clear the stranger doesn’t appreciate you ignoring him.

“Hey,” the man barks, reaching over to grab your arm. You flinch away, consequently pressing yourself against Yoongi who instinctively wraps an arm around you.

"She said she's not interested," Yoongi interjects, holding you closely. He's more annoyed than he was with the bartender and the energy radiating off of him is burning. If he wanted to he could decimate the man with a snap of his fingers, but he doesn't. He doesn't even let his gaze waver as he stares down the drunk.

"What you gonna about it?" the man challenges

"Look, buddy," Taehyung says, "How 'bout one more drink on the house and then I call you a cab."

The man mumbles a disgruntled 'fine' and Taehyung pours him another drink. He slides off the barstool with his complimentary drink and stumbles over to another undeserving girl minding her business.

You let out a relieved sigh, "God, I wish guys like that would just drop dead. They’re so annoying."

"Interesting." Yoongi smiles and you blanch, sensing exactly what he’s about to do. He brings his hand up and snaps his fingers.

Easily, the man that you had just been talking to crumbles over, groaning in pain, eyes clenched shut. The agony on his face terrifies you. You wished for him to die and now Yoongi is granting that wish. You're the one who's killing the man.

You shouldn’t have let your words slip out so easily. You didn’t mean it literally. A note of carefully phrasing your words better is placed in the back of your mind.

Taehyung immediately runs around the counter, calling out for someone to call the police as he goes to aid the man.

You grab onto Yoongi's shoulder, shaking him and try to plead with him silently. "I didn't actually want him to die! Don't kill him, Yoongi!"

"This is what you wished for though," he says calmly, watching in amusement as the man suffocates on his own tongue. "I'm only granting your wish."

"I take it back! I wish he wouldn’t die!"

Yoongi rolls his eyes and already the man is taking his last breath, face turning a light shade of blue from lack of oxygen. You cling onto the smallest shred of hope that Yoongi will spare the man's life. You wished for him to live so he should obey, right?

"But I didn't really like him that much either," Yoong shrugs, "maybe I want him to die."

"You can't do that," you nearly shriek, "Y-You're supposed to do what I tell you!"

Yoongi sighs, eyes rolling over to the gasping man. “I hate when they say that,” he mumbles, but you can hardly hear it over the choking and patrons screaming for help.

It takes a full second before he snaps his fingers again and the man takes a deep breath, the air finally returning to his lungs and color bringing his face back to life.

Your shoulders slump, face clasped in the palm of your hand. Your hands tremble against your cheek, despite relief flooding your system, you know the man's fate could have turned out worse.

"You seem to care a lot about whether or not a scumbag like him gets to live to harass another girl."

"It's not like that," you whisper, "I-I can't kill someone."

Your thoughts are conflicted. Maybe Yoongi is right. Maybe the man will go on to hurt someone in the future and this is your chance to stop it from happening. But you can't kill someone because they might be guilty. You can't know if this man would go on to do despicable things or if he was just some old drunk in a bar. You don't want to play God and decide who lives and who dies. You shouldn't get to choose. This power that Yoongi gives you is too much.

“Let’s kill him, master, make him suffer."

"No." You won't take a life. You already told yourself won't make another wish ever again.

Yoongi frowns, disappointed in your choice. “I was so sure you’d ask me to kill him.”

You slide off the stool and grab your bag to fish out money. "Well, I won’t be like all your other masters. We're leaving."

—

You both arrive at your apartment near eleven while the moon is slowly falling towards the horizon. It was a quiet ride on the bus. You tried your best to sit as close to the window as possible while Yoongi lounged lazily in the orange plastic seat, a content grin on his face.

He quietly commented on the city as it passed by in a blur, the subtle scent of musk, and how he preferred this mode of transportation over teleporting. He spoke as if the mundane parts of life were a luxury to him.

You didn't speak once, letting him ramble to himself while you were lost in thought. You didn’t seem to care much about how much the demon seemed to be enjoying the peace.

When you reach your house, you head straight towards the couch.

"You're too quiet, master," Yoongi notes, looking around your apartment and comparing it to his previous masters'. He must have seen much more lavish looking ones than the humble one-bedroom apartment you own.

"I don't feel like talking," you mumble, moving to throw yourself onto the couch. You grab a decorative pillow and bury your face in it to muffle a sigh. The familiar smell of fresh cotton eases your nerves until Yoongi falls down next to you. Too closely for your liking.

You remove your head from the pillow, surprised by how bleary your vision is from the tears building up.

"I think your face will be a wonderful addition to my collection."

You gulp, shifting away from the demon lounging too close for comfort. You're glad he is wearing a face and it's not just a black abyss you were first met with. Somehow the handsome face he is currently wearing lessens your fear, but it brings you anything but comfort.

Yoongi slouches into your couch. "I haven't been able to relax like this in centuries. My previous masters always had orders, something they wanted and couldn't wait for. I was a dog at their beck and call."

You shy away from the arm that slings itself over the couch, holding your breath as his fingers loop through your hair to entertain themselves with the loose strands.

"I’m sure you had to grant bad wishes but I don't want anything else from you. So, you can relax as much as you want.”

"Oh, you will want something. I guarantee it," he says confidently, "maybe not today or the next five years, but eventually, you'll give in."

The plan was to get help for Hoseok, that's it and you got your wish. No way you're going to let yourself be tempted to ask for more.

But maybe one thing won’t hurt. Paying off Hoseok’s hospital bills would be a big help. Maybe even paying off your college debt. It doesn’t sound too bad…

No! That can’t happen. The more money you ask for the more you won’t be able to resist begging for more.

You push yourself off the couch and away from Yoongi. It feels as if the more you're around him, the more you feel the desire to succumb to those deep desires.

“I said no!” you yell, unaware of the demon’s rising temper.

Yoongi’s hand darts out to grab your wrists, pulling you back down eye level to him, eyes turning the deep shade of red. You twist your arm, but he refuses to let you go. His anger radiates through the air, you can feel yourself begin to sweat.

“Stop denying what you want, you foolish little girl,” he snaps, “just make a wish, go ahead, ruin your life! Just like they all did before! You’re already going to hell, make the most of your dwindling years.”

You don’t want to stand here and listen to him remind you of how long until you’re going to die. Instead of fighting, fearful he might lash out further, you speak curtly, "I want to go to bed."

He releases you and you nod goodbye, skirting off to bed, worrying that the demon will follow.

Lucky for you, he doesn't move an inch from the couch, remaining there for the rest of the night even as you toss and turn in bed, whimpering from the nightmares plaguing your dreams of a faceless demon.

––

When the sun rises promptly over the horizon the next day, it's Yoongi who hovers over you silently waiting for your eyes to open.

"Good morning," the demon coos, surprisingly softly as if he were trying to wake a child from a nap.

"M-Morning."

"Any wishes today?" His lips curl into a devious smile, taking any softness he held away. His finger runs down your chin and traces your collarbone, touching your skin gently.

"N-No," you answer, hoping this question doesn't become a daily occurrence. You swat away his hand, getting off the bed.

He moves away from the edge of the bed, letting you get up and start your morning routine while maintaining a safe distance. He quietly stands in the background while you brush your teeth and wash your face, but doesn't leave the room when you change. You settle for making him turn around while you strip into work clothes.

"I can snap my fingers and make you rich. You’ll never have to lift a finger ever again. Don’t you want me to help you? Isn’t that why you sold yourself to me?" he says, eyeing a spoonful of golden cereal flakes.

He asked if he could have some of your breakfast so you poured him a bowl of cereal. You're not even sure he needs to eat it. He's more curious if anything.

"I-I didn’t sell myself to you!”

He makes it sound so scandalous.

Yoongi smirks but doesn’t say anything else.

“I don't want anything else," you groan. "What do you want me to say? After you nearly killed a guy yesterday, there's no way I'm going to make another wish. Like you said most of your masters were awful people who became greedy and selfish and I-I don't want to become that."

You stir your milk around, watching as the leftover, soggy flakes of cereal swirl around the ceramic bowl. You promised yourself you'd never make another wish, no matter how badly you want to. If you ever became as sick and twisted as Yoongi's former masters, you'd end your contract early and have him kill you.

You look up at Yoongi who has been quiet for a while now, odd for him to sit and not taunt you about something. Staring at his face, you wonder about the person he’s wearing. Yoongi isn’t the demon’s real name, just the name of the person whose face he’s wearing. You wonder if Yoongi, the human, felt pain when he died.

“How will you do it?”

“Hm?”

You swallow, letting your spoon go and watching it sink into the milk. “In ten years, when you have to… take my soul, will it hurt?”

Yoongi blinks, cocking his head a subtle amused grin on his face. “I don’t know. They never scream if that makes you feel better.”

It doesn’t.

“So, you’ll wear around my face after that?”

"I will,” he says. The reply is short and you’re not sure you want to hear more about what he’s going to do once he has your face. And after that, he adds, “this cereal is really good.”

Blinking, you gape at him, not expecting that. "Uh, yeah, d-do you want some more?"

"Mhm."

Yoongi follows you to work—in fact, he follows you everywhere. He never leaves your side, always glued to you and making comments about your mundane life and how he can make it more exciting if you just make a wish.

“Why do you never leave me alone?” You ask, finally fed up with the sound of his footsteps pattering behind you incessantly. You feel like he’s doting on you. Without any orders or wishes to grant, he has nothing to do. He can’t entertain himself by wreaking havoc because you won’t allow it.

Yoongi sips on his fruity beverage, blinking at you tiredly. He waits a beat to answer, “I have to protect you until the day you die. Your soul is mine to have and no one else’s.”

His words are heavy on your shoulders. It doesn't make you feel better. You'll never get away from him, huh? You'll always be reminded of the clock counting down on your life.

Yoongi moves past you as if the brief conversation was nothing to him.

“Come on let’s go visit your brother. I’m dying to meet him.”

—

"H-Hi, Hoseok," your voice barely comes out as a whisper, afraid you might break down and cry if you speak any louder.

"Hey! You finally came!" Hoseok smiles brightly, opening his arms wide to gesture you in for a hug. He’s sat up in his hospital bed, light blue gown on and disheveled orange hair. You're startled for a moment. The last time you saw your brother he had a tube stuffed down his throat and IVs running through his arm that all connected to beeping machines.

Pale and cold, that's how you remembered him and how you would have remembered him if you had let him die. He was on the brink of death, but you brought him back. Now he's returned to the brightest ray of sunshine you always knew. The hand you touch is warm, full of life, just like his smile.

The cost of what you did for him will always be there, lingering in the back of your head. But you'd save Hoseok again in a heartbeat no matter the cost. There is no price high enough that would make you give up your brother.

"You weren't here when I woke up and you barely answered up my calls and texts," he pouts and another pang of guilt hits you. He must think you were neglecting him. "I think you owe me an explanation. And..." He pauses, eyes darting over to Yoongi lingering near the sliding door. "Who's the guy?"

Hoseok is asking too many questions and he always has a way to get you to spill your guts. If he finds out you made a deal with a demon, he'd try everything to reverse it. You're not sure how he could, but you don't want to risk it.

"Just… just," you struggle to find an explanation for Yoongi.

"Her boyfriend,” Yoongi speaks from his place near the door.

You can’t believe the words that just came out of Yoongi’s mouth. Where the hell did that come from? You certainly didn’t prompt him to say that.

Hoseok’s brows raise, his lips form an ‘o’ shape. He looks between you and Yoongi. “I missed a lot, didn’t I?”

“Yeah you did, but I’m here to see you! I wanna know how you’re doing!” You try and divert the conversation away from Yoongi. If he starts asking how you met him, you’re going to let something slip.

You pinch his cheeks, laughing as he swats you away.

“Come on,” Hoseok chuckles, “you don’t visit me for almost two weeks and then turn up with a boyfriend out of the blue. I gotta know what my little sister has been up to.”

“Forget him, Hobi, seriously,” you groan, stepping into his view of Yoongi. You wish that the demon listened to you when you asked him to wait in the cafeteria or the hallway, but he always insists on staying close to you.

It’s like he watches every detail of your life closely, mimicking the way you speak to others, do things like ordering food or going about your day. You assume he’s trying to learn about life.

“Can I at least say hello?”

You begrudgingly take a step aside and gesture Yoongi to come in. The demon crosses over the threshold with a wry smile.

“Hi, I’m Hoseok,” your brother greets your ‘boyfriend’, extending his arm out for a handshake.

“Yoongi,” the demon says, “I’m glad to see you getting better. It’s like a miracle.”

You laugh awkwardly, ignoring Yoongi’s last comment.

“I know, I’m so thankful to be alive right now. And glad ___ is finally here to keep me company.”

“You’re lucky to have such a dedicated sister, Hoseok. I hope you never forget that.”

Yoongi sounds far away, raw and more… human that you’ve ever heard him. The longing in his eyes, now disguised as a warm brown, burns dimly, but it’s there.

You wonder what the demon with no face yearns for.

—

You came to the conclusion that if you only have ten years to live your life, you were going to live it to the fullest. You try and go places you’ve always loved and end up taking Yoongi places he's never been, and for an immortal being that has existed for centuries, there are a lot of places he's never been.

You first start with the amusement park where he discovers cotton candy for the first time. His sweet tooth is automatically attracted to the sugar coating his tongue and he continues to buy more and more. You can't help but smile at the joy in his eyes when he receives his fifth bag of cotton candy and he can't help but smile back.

And when he takes your hand to pull you towards the ferris wheel, your heart beats a little faster.

Even on casual days when you stroll down the street with Yoongi while he follows you to the grocery store and ask him if there’s anything he wants which causes him to stall. You were the only one of his masters that had ever really cared about him and it gave him a weird feeling in his gut. He can’t remember a time a human bothered to ask him what he wanted.

He was only meant to serve, nothing else. He helped others indulge in their selfish desires, but what about him? Here he is, given the chance to be free, to do what he wants without human orders controlling his every move. And he finds that all he wants to do with this freedom is spend it with you.

On a separate occasion, you have a day off and choose to stay up till midnight watching Titanic with him. When Yoongi sees you crying over the human sacrificing himself to save his lover, he feels an ache in his chest and wonders why you would willingly watch a movie that makes you cry.

He just doesn’t understand it. You tell him that it’s because it feels good to cry sometimes, that it’s cathartic. He can’t say that he’s had much experience with human emotions, but he knows that he doesn’t enjoy seeing you cry. It makes his chest tighten when he sees the way tears streak down your face and the way your nose reddens when Jack sinks to the bottom of a freezing ocean, leaving his lover behind.

Sacrificing yourself for someone you love to live.

Where has he heard that story before?

It doesn’t take long until he looks back at you to realize. You sacrificed yourself to save Hoseok and he was just the iceberg that ruined everything.

“Stop staring,” you chuckle, wiping away the falling tears. You can’t help, but cry every time you watch this movie and Yoongi being here to judge you doesn’t make you feel any better.

You hold your breath when his hand reaches out to brush a tear away. His hand cools off your heated skin as he tenderly caresses your cheek.

“I’ll always be a monster, won’t I?” he mutters under his breath, a sigh following after. "I'll never really be like you—no matter how many faces I take, no matter how many souls I consume."

It never occurred to you that the demon with no face longed to be human so badly.

"Yoongi..."

"I accepted it a long time ago," he brushes it off.

Yoongi knows he shouldn't, but he moves closer, pulling you into his chest. He wants something—someone—to hold. He desperately wants to be human and feel normal—to allow this pain in his chest to be normal.

Your heart hammers in your ears. Normally you’d pull away from his touch, but now it only brings you comfort. You stay like that through the end of the movie where Jack and Rose reunite once again in the afterlife. If there is an afterlife, would you ever be able to meet Yoongi there?

He rests his chin atop your head, sighing, "yeah… I've accepted it."

Somehow you doubt that.

—

You visited Hoseok once again where he continued to grill you about your mysterious boyfriend. You never let anything slip, letting Yoongi take the lead on explaining how you two met and fell in love. The tale he weaves together is surprisingly romantic and you wonder if he’s been watching romcoms without you to better understand humans.

The air once you step out of the hospital is a refreshing break from the strong sanitary odor of medical supplies and the lingering chill of death on your spine.

You said goodbye to Hoseok, making a promise to visit him again soon. After tonight’s visit, you feel… good.

“You seem happier,” Yoongi notes.

“You know what? I am.”

“You should,” he says, pulling his hoodie over his bleach blonde hair.

“This is all I could ever wish for. Hoseok’s happy and healthy thanks to you.” You pause, letting Yoongi take a couple of steps further before he realizes you aren’t next to him. “You know… I never really thanked you for saving him.”

His brows raise, furrowing when he realizes what you’re saying and how genuine you sound.

“Thank you?” He repeats as if he’s never heard the words or spoken them. “No human has ever thanked me before.”

You’re not surprised to hear it. You’re not sure what crazy person would ever thank a demon. But you can’t help but feel thankful for him. He brought your brother back to you, and no matter what price you’ll have to pay in the end, you’re glad to have him.

“Then I’ll be the first.”

“That makes me feel…” he looks to you expectantly, silently asking you to fill in his blank.

“Good?” You try.

He mulls the word over in his head as if trying to remember what it means and what it would feel like. Then he smiles, “yes, that’s the word.”

“All I’ve ever done is cause pain and suffering. I’ve always expected my masters to ask for selfish things, but these past few weeks I’ve learned what it’s like to be human. To not have orders.”

Yoongi looks up at the stars, shining in the darkness. He’s looked up at this unchanging sky so many times throughout his existence. It stays the same just like him.

“I like this freedom. I like what you’ve given me. Thank you,” he smiles at the stars. “Thank you, ___.”

—

“Goodnight, Yoongi,” you say, retreating into your room, waving at him awkwardly as he settles down on his usual spot on the couch. You don’t know why you feel so different. He thanked you tonight. Something he’s never done before, you never thought he would. You had no idea he felt that way. You were both thankful for one another which sounds impossible, but it’s true.

“Goodnight, ___, sweet dreams,” Yoongi replies, falling onto the couch with a content sigh.

You disappear into your room and settle into bed.

That night instead of the usual nightmares about a faceless demon ripping your soul away, you find yourself lost in sanguine eyes, rich as wine and a raspy melodious voice echoing your name and writes fire across your skin.

The heat in your core ignites at his slightest touch over your bare chest. You have no idea how you got undressed or why you felt so breathless in this darkened bedroom. A face comes out of the shadows, the features you know all too well.

“Yoongi,” you say, but it comes out as a whine, so desperate and wanton it hardly sounds like you.

You say his name again, but it’s muffled by his lips, soft and gentle. It’s not what you’d expect, but you don’t fight it. You simply melt under his touch and his hands do the talking.

His fingers brush the underside of your breasts, admiring the shape before fondling one, fingertips coming to pinch your hardened bud, rolling the tip between the rough pads of his fingers. You bite your lower lip, taking his hand in yours, pausing his motions. You slowly begin to lower his hand, allowing it to press against your navel, hoping he’ll understand what you want.

It’s so hot, your body is on fire, scorching as he touches your skin and ignites it even more. You just yearn for him—his touch, his body. It’s like an addiction and you have to have him now.

“I’m here to serve you, master, to please you in anyway I can. What would you like me to do?”

He speaks, but his mouth doesn’t move. Your pleasure is too heightened to care. You want him, you want every sinful part of him that he can give you.

“I want it all. I want you. Please, Yoongi,” you beg, looking into his deep red eyes glowing with ardor.

“Anything for you.”

Yoongi uses both hands to part your legs, spreading you open for his eyes to feast upon, a hungry predator starving for a taste. His finger runs up and down your folds first, gathering up your wetness, teasing a finger past your lips.

“Yoongi,” you whine, grasping his hand and guiding him deeper between your folds. He allows you to use his hand to get yourself off without resistance. Your hand pulls his fingers into your clenching walls.

The intrusion feels like three fingers instead of one, you aren’t complaining, it stretches you so good and fills you up nicely. “Mhm, Yoongi,” you moan, releasing your grip to let him continue pleasuring you on his own. Your hand moves above your head where you clench the sheets beneath it, almost writhing.

Yoongi remains eerily quiet while your moans fill the room, crescendos of your helpless cries echo in the dark. He continues to assault your pulsing cunt, drilling his fingers deeper with each rough thrust. Every motion has you hurling towards a quick end.

Your breathless voice rasps his name, nothing else on your mind but him and his fingers. You shut your eyes, focusing on the feeling. Your back arches, hips grinding against his fingers.

“Wake up.” The voice sounds like Yoongi. What is he saying?

Your brows furrow, but your eyes don’t open, ignoring the voice to focus once again on your pleasure.

“Master,” his voice teases, “you must be having a pleasant dream.”

Dream?

Suddenly the hands on your core fade into nothing and you’re left empty, just on the edge of orgasming. When you open your eyes again, you’re in the dimly lit bedroom, sanguine eyes hovering above you. The sheets damp with your sweat. You can feel the heat and slick between your legs that pooled from your dream and an ache in your core that was never relieved.

Oh god, that dream.

Yoongi blinks, red eyes flashing at you and reminding you of whose fingers made you so wet while asleep.

“You were moaning,” Yoongi states.

Your cheeks burn from embarrassment. You bring the blanket higher to cover half your face. You’re praying you hadn’t let his name slip out in your dream state.

“Care to tell me what your dream was about?”

You lick your chapped lips, finding the courage to speak, “I-It was you.”

Perhaps you’re still feeling the effects of your dream, that desire manifesting itself right now, hoping that the true version of Yoongi could finish what dream him had started.

Yoongi cocks a brow, taking a seat on the side of your bed. As it begins to dip under his weight, you shift and sit up, ignoring how your shirt dips too low over your chest.

“Explain.”

His hardening gaze makes it difficult for you to think about anything but the way he looked at you in your dream, ready to devour you. A rush of arousal goes straight to your core and you cross your legs.

“Y-You were in it and you were t-touching me.”

“Touching?” He echoes, his eyes drift from your face down to your low neckline. ��Touching you how?”

You really don’t want to explain it in detail. Doesn’t he get it already? Does he really not understand or does he want you to say it out loud?

“Well,” you wet your lips, “I was naked and you were above me.”

“Oh.” Is all he says. It doesn’t sound disappointed nor disgusted, that’s good at least. He nods his head as a sign for you to continue.

“A-And then your fingers… your fingers…they…” You clam up, suddenly recalling how deep and real they felt inside you, filling up your walls and making you scream.

Your eyes cast down, unable to look at him anymore, but that’s a mistake. His hands rest against the bed, propping himself up. The blue veins that run across his hands and slither up his arms, catch your eye. That hand, those fingers—your legs clench beneath your blanket.

“I should stay with you tonight,” his voice raspier than before. You’re not sure if it’s what you said that brought this on. All kinds of elicit thoughts run through your mind. In the same bed, beneath the same sheets, those veiny hands roaming your body once again. You’re dying to know what it feels like for real.

“It could be an incubus plaguing your dreams.”

And suddenly the fantasy is cut short.

“Incubus?” You've never heard of one.

“A sex demon that preys on women while they sleep.”

Well, that would explain the dream, but why would it appear as Yoongi? Did you really want Yoongi so badly a demon had to take the form of him to trick you?

“O-Oh, you really want to stay with me?”

“I won’t let anyone else have you, especially not another demon.”

With that, you allow Yoongi to stay with you for the rest of the night. The throbbing and want in your core never subsiding. He lays down next to you and suddenly you feel shy, scooting to the very edge of the bed until you’re threatening to tip off.

You know he doesn’t need to sleep, so you’re wondering if he will just lie there the whole night listening to the sounds of your steady breathing, or possibly more moaning if the dream returns.

“Did you enjoy it?”

Your entire body tenses, “y-yes.”

You don’t dare to turn over.

“Did you cum?”

“No.”

The bed shifts, his body moves to press against yours, molding together, fitting like a puzzle piece. His warmth envelops you, calming your erratic nerves.

What is he doing?

“Would you like to?”

Yoongi’s fingers sneak around your abdomen, trailing down slowly to cup your heat. His middle finger brushes against your clit beneath thin shorts and underwear. You chew on your lower lip, fighting back the urge to rub your legs together and whimper.

“I liked hearing you moan. I almost didn’t want to wake you. But now I wonder, what do you sound like when you cum?”

He brings his lips to the shell of your ear, hot puffs of air emphasizes every word he lowly whispers.

“Will you let me hear those sweet little whimpers again? I’ll fuck you good, sweetheart, I promise.”

“O-Okay.”

He takes his hands away to allow you to willingly roll onto your back. You watch as he moves to hover over you, his knees on either side of your thighs, his finger intertwined with a strand of your hair.

“Don’t be nervous, ___,” he whispers, oddly comforting. “I’ll take care of you.”

Those words remind you of his promise.

“I’ll protect you until the day you die. You’re mine to have and no one else’s.”

Your shoulders relax under his words like a spell cast over you. His finger releases your hair to drag down your face tenderly.

“You’re already wet, aren’t you? Did that dream take care of you well?”

His hands fall away from your face to the waistband of your shorts. Teasingly hooking around the elastic and tugging to get a peek at your baby pink panties.

“Answer me, baby girl.”

“Mm, y-yes, I am,” you answer, beginning to feel warm under your clothes despite how thin they are.

Yoongi snaps the waistband back and slides his hand up your shirt, tugging it off your body. Your breasts are exposed to him now and suddenly it feels real. This isn’t another dream. You’re really agreeing to give yourself to a demon.

His rich, sanguine eyes roam your body, memorizing each fine detail of your skin. You fight the urge to hide yourself. No one has ever seen you so intimately before nor looked at you as if they were ready to devour you whole.

Yoongi’s hand moves to touch your chest, but your reflexes force you to flinch away. You’re nervous about him touching you, thinking he’d be disappointed that you’re not everything he lusts after. He’s a demon, he must have been with—corrupted—countless humans.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, pulling his hand back.

“I’ve never…done this before,” you admit, looking anywhere but his face. Your eyes travel downward, the column of his neck, the deep pools of his collarbones, his loose-fitting wrinkled shirt, to his crotch. His bulge is prominent in his dark jeans, begging to be freed. You wonder how big he is. What if he doesn’t fit?

“Don’t worry, ___, I said I’d take care of you. Uncross your legs.”

You do as you’re told and Yoongi bends down slowly, pressing a kiss to your neck while his hand caresses your waist. He moves a hand up towards your breasts and brushes his thumb over your erect nipple. You squeak, a hand coming up to rest on his shoulder and squeeze out of nervousness.

“Don’t be shy,” he rasps, nuzzling his nose up to the shell of your ear. “I just want to make you feel good.”

His thumb rolls over your nipple again as he gets back to work marking your neck. You sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut, but still keeping one steady hand on his shoulder for comfort.

He sucks bruises into your skin that will stay as a reminder of this night and you don’t care what he leaves. You’re just enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin. They’re so warm. You can feel yourself slowly getting addicted to his touch. It leaves you growing wetter than before.

His lips move wet kisses down your chest down to your navel. His hand leaves your breasts, trailing towards to your waistband once again.

Your hand falls from his shoulder and you rest it against your chest, feeling the pounding of your heart. You can feel it beating—boom, boom, boom—you’re so nervous about having someone so close.

“Will you show me how wet you are?” He looks up at you with a mischievous smirk. You can feel your heart racing even faster. One finger runs down your clothed slit, earning a quiet whimper from you. “Touch yourself. I want you to coat your fingers and show me.”

“Y-Yoongi,” you stutter, “I-I…”

“Don’t tell me to haven’t touched yourself before.”

You have touched yourself, but never in front of anyone else. Touching yourself in front of Yoongi sounds more and more appealing the longer his finger moves against your slit. You just want some relief for your aching core.

“Okay.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Your hands move to slowly slide your shorts off, panties going along with it to the floor. Now you’re completely bare, left vulnerable to Yoongi.

He sits between your spread legs, watching your hands move. Enamored by your trembling hands, he can hardly wait for you to finally touch your wet slit. It’d be so easy for you to do it. You’ve probably done it many times before.

Yoongi could imagine you lying in this bed in the middle of the night, shrouded in darkness with quiet whimpers while you pleasured yourself. You’d think of faceless men, only focusing on their cocks filling you up, pounding into your cunt the same why your fingers did.

He feels himself get harder beneath his pants, the strain beginning to get uncomfortable.

Your finger brushes over your slit, gathering just enough of your arousal on the tip for it to shine in the light.

“You’re dripping already,” he groans, “fuck, I can’t wait to have my cock in that tight little cunt.”

You almost gasp at his sudden vulgar words. It’s nothing like your dream where he was silent through most of it, letting his fingers do all the talking. But you like this version better—much better.

“Bend your knees,” he orders. “Put that pretty pussy on display.”

You do as he says, the way his words sound like growls has you clenching, the throb in your core becoming unbearable. Your hand moves to your clit first, running over the sensitive bud. At first touch, you softly gasp, already feeling the jolts of pleasure running through your body.

“Want you to put a finger in.” Yoongi can’t look away,

You force your finger from your clit, running your fingers up and down your slit to collect all the juices that leaked out of you. Then, you ease your middle finger in, your walls already clenching around it.

Your mouth falls open with puffs of hot air coming out as you gasp. When you begin moving your finger in and out, you bite down on your lip to prevent any loud whimpers from escaping.

“Faster. Fuck yourself with your finger.”

Once you pick up the pace and move your finger in and out of your soaking pussy, you begin to need more. You want to be stretched full—so full of him.

“More, I-I want more, Yoongi,” you mumble.

“Slip another one in.”

You immediately respond to that and stretch yourself with another finger. Your mouth hangs open becoming parched and a moan almost escapes you, but you catch it in your throat before it becomes any louder.

Yoongi shakes his head, “I like hearing you. Go ahead and moan.”

“B-But the neighbors.”

You’re sure they wouldn’t want to be woken in the middle of the night hearing you moaning through paper-thin walls.

“If they like what they hear we can just invite them over,” he smirks, “and if not, I’ll take care of them for you, babygirl. So don’t be shy and let me listen to how good you fuck yourself.”

Yoongi takes hold of your hand, guiding your fingers into your soaked walls. His thumb presses against your clit and moves in circles, heightening your pleasure.

You whimper, releasing a breathy moan when he presses harder. Your hips buck, grinding helplessly on his thumb.

“There it is. What a good girl,” he praises while coaxing your fingers from your pussy. You whine when he refuses to let you stuff them back in, feeling his grip tighten around your wrist as a warning. His other hand fingers your slit, easing two digits in suddenly.

His fingers are much longer than yours and they feel amazing, prodding your pussy deeper than before. Your back arches, head falling to the side as you let out a wanton moan.

Squelches and obscene noises coming from your wet pussy fill the room along with your uncensored moans. Drilling his fingers faster, Yoongi releases your wrist to rub your clit.

“Ah, Y-Yoongi,” you whimper, digging your nails into the sheets.

“Do you like my fingers buried in your sweet virgin cunt?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, rolling your hips against his hand. “I like it. P-Please keep going. It f-feels so good.”

Tension knots in your abdomen with each thrust of his fingers, curling inside your walls. Your forehead is damp, hair sticking to the sides of your temple. Your legs fall open wider.

“You gonna cum all over my hand, babygirl?”

Whimpers and a simple nod of your head tells Yoongi what he wants to know. His voice is enchanting, a low hum, instructing you to meet your release and you do.

You feel yourself gushing and squirting all over his fingers, your entire body tense while your walls clench and unclench. His name falls hoarsely from your lips.

“You’ve made a mess,” Yoongi tsks, pulling his fingers out of your abused hole to play with your dripping cum. He traces your outer lips, rubbing cum all over.

Yoongi runs a finger along your thighs and over your abdomen to paint your body with your own sticky cum. “You’re all prepped and ready for my cock now.”

Your breath catches in your throat when his hands move to unzip his jeans. You’re anticipating the feeling of his cock sliding into you. How will it feel for the first time? You know it must hurt from all the stories. Nevertheless, you’re ready. You feel ready.

When he finally frees himself from his pants, throwing them off to the side, you’re left speechless, unable to think of what to say.

He’s big, so much bigger than you imagined. His fingers are nothing compared to his girth. It’s almost jaw-dropping. You’re afraid he won’t fit even with how wet you are.

And it’s not just how thick he is that’s causing you to do a double-take. Along his shaft, are smooth ridges dotting his length. You’ve never seen anything like it.

Your hesitant hand dares to reach out and graze one of the ridges. It feels just like skin, raised like a hard bump. Your hand flinches back when he gasps. You look up at him, a silent question hanging off your mind.

“It’ll hurt, I won’t lie, but I’ll try to go slowly,” Yoongi says, hoping to reassure you.

You lick your lips, glancing back at his hard xoxo once more. Your body is on fire and there is no denying how badly you yearn for Yoongi to be in you. You need this demon with no true face to fuck you.

“Go ahead.”

Yoongi pulls on your hips, aligning his rigid cock head to your swollen pink lips. He pushes himself in, the thick head of his cock entering your walls for the first time. He forces himself not to bury himself into you, reminding himself how untouched you are and how he doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Yoongi,” you whimper, grabbing onto one of his hands on your hips. “S-Slower, please.”

You lay there, breathing shallowly as he watches you carefully. You move your hips experimentally around his cock, trying to adjust to the thickness as it steadily pierces you. You can feel the ridges of his cock as it enters you. The ache is uncomfortable and you wince.

There can’t possibly be any more, you think until you choose to look down to where your bodies are connected. He’s just halfway in and you gasp. Not even with all of his length in you, you feel incredibly full.

“Such a tight cunt,” he hisses, pulling out partially and thrusting back in, keeping up the slow rhythm to help you adjust.

You’re beginning to feel pleasure instead of the uncomfortable pain and with each of his thrusts, he pushes himself deeper until you can take his whole cock.

“So… hng, full,” you moan, feeling him hitting your cervix. Your back arches off the bed. You can feel every ridge sliding against your walls. Sliding your hands from his, your nails rake up his back, making red scars that will remain until morning. You anchor onto his shoulders.

He drills into your cunt, no longer concerned with your pain, only focusing on giving you pleasure. With each of your whining moans, he rolls his hips until you’re flushed and panting.

“S-Shit,” he hisses, “you like this, babygirl? You like being fucked?”

“Yes, yes!” you cry.

“You can feel me all the way in here,” he smugly remarks, pressing a hand flat against your abdomen where you can see the bulge of his cock moving inside you. His cock feels like it’s stretching you open, each thrust threatening to split you in half.

You whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in closer. You can feel your second orgasm approaching quickly. Your toes begin to curl in absolute ecstasy.

“I wanna-”

“Cum? You need to cum, babygirl?” He groans hotly into your ear.

Your fingers move to lace in his blonde hair, tugging at the locks. Your hips buck to meet his in a hurry to finish. “Yes! I need to!”

His finger moves between your bodies to flick your swollen bud causing you to shudder releasing a choked sob. His finger rubs your clit in circles.

Your muscles tighten, stomach and eyes clenching as all your nerves light up.

“Cum then, let go.”

You cry his name as you cum, back arching and your sweaty chest meets his. White leaks from your used cunt, gushing around his cock, and you’re absolutely spent.

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, almost out of breath but not quite. Being a demon means plenty of stamina. “Such a good girl.”

Your eyes open, blinking—once, twice— and realizing he’s smiling down at you. His blonde hair pushed back, revealing his forehead and glistening sweat. You’re wondering how he’s feeling after this because you’re definitely confused. Do you love Yoongi, the demon, who only wants to be human? It’s hard to say.

“I might love you,” you admit. You might as well say it. You have nothing to lose anyway.

That forces his smile to fall. He has nothing to say in return, he can’t say anything. This is wrong—all wrong. His mouth sets in a hard line.

You're forgetting the inevitable. The inevitable moment when he's forced to take your life. Even if years do go by, even if he does allow himself to fall in love with you, it won’t end happily.

“And maybe I could too.”

#BAficexchange #bangtanarmynet #bts #bts smut #yoongi smut #btssmutclub #smutcentralnet #yoongi fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #bts reactions #bts imagines

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

Text

Humans are Space Orcs “Sign of Support.”

A lot of you have wanted some sort of update on the LFIL arc. So this one counts sort of as fluff, and sort of as a starting point for finally getting back to this arc.

Prepare yourself for Adam being awkward lol :)

It was happening again.

He had expected this sooner rather than later, and it hurt to watch.

He knew, more than anyone that it wasn’t going to work. The GA was full of aliens, not humans. The things that impressed humanity, the things that got humanity’s attention were the same sort of things that tended to scare the GA.

But of course, the average human couldn’t have known that, and with their tendency to change creatures around them to become more human, the aliens with which they worked didn’t see it either.

They were doing the right thing, but going about it the wrong way.

Still, that didn’t stop his feelings of sadness and empathy for their plight.

Walking with Sunny, standing on the buddy pegs attached to her back, and examining the protest encampment around him, he couldn’t help but be impressed by their bravery. He knew for a fact that if he was in their shoes, he would be way more likely to hide, lie to everyone around him, and even himself.

But here they were out in the open, a shining beacon of defiance against the GA.

It was a difficult situation, of course he supported the GA wholeheartedly, and he always would, and with that support came an understanding. But that didn’t mean that he had to agree with them.

They were scared.

And people tend to lash out at things that scare them.

As it turns out, that seemed to be a common factor across the galaxy.

He reached down, hand caressing the tear gas canisters at his belt and the accompanying gas mask. He prayed, just PRAYED that he wouldn’t have to use them, but how was he to know what would happen. When people got righteously angry about something they tended to act up, and when thrown into a group of like-minded people, the pack mentality was overwhelming.

He wanted everything to go well, he wanted them to make their point, to prove that they were the moral superiors, demonstrate to the GA that they weren’t militant, and all they wanted was peace.

That was the sort of thing that would get across to the GA.

But with humans involved…. He didn’t really have much hope.

He glanced around at the assembled tents looking for any sign of trouble.

He didn’t see much, just the limp white flags, with the LFIL logo printed proudly on their front.

Still keeping an eye on his surroundings he leaned against one of Sunny’s shoulders, “So what do you think about this whole thing?”

Sunny turned her head to look at him gold eyes and blue carapace glittering with the yellow sheen of the Rundi sky.

She shrugged, setting him a little off balance. She grabbed his feet to steady him as she continued up a small incline.

“It doesn't bother me, and I suppose I understand them.”

“Oh?”

“Imagine finding someone you connect with, someone who understands you more than anyone ever has. Imagine a Drev finding the greatest warrior in the galaxy, and then….. Just having to suffer knowing you can never be with them. Granted none of the other species ever would have considered it an option without the humans, but now…. It makes sense. You connect with someone well enough, then beyond that there isn’t much you can do.”

“I agree with you completely, but let me play devil's advocate for a moment. They aren't even the same species, without the same genetics. It wouldn’t be physically possible to produce a viable offspring.”

She turned her head to look at him, “And how does it work for your brother David and Jordan?”

He laughed, “Ok, ok, poor question.”

“Adoption, a relevant option. Plus, this is coming from the guy who lent his DNA to some alien.”

“Arguably she stole it, but I get your point.”

They turned another corner scanning the crowd, “Hear me out though. Humans are…. Well you know how humans are. They need…. Affection and intimacy….. How does that even…. Work?”

“Oh I am sure some human has found a way, besides, humans and Drev aren’t so different in that regard.”

He tilted his head to look at her, “How the hell do you know that.”

“Got into a discussion with Krill. He thinks it's possible, though he would never tell you humans. He already thinks you do a ton of stupid stuff anyway.”

“Don’t you guys also have a mating season.’

“We did, but it was actually based on the magnetic fluctuation of our planet in time with the seasons. Now that we don’t have that anymore, things are out of whack.”

He grunted, “huh, I didn’t know that.”

“You never asked.”

“Because that is a totally normal thing to ask someone. Hello my name is Adam, and I am actually very curious about how….. That stuff… works on your planet.”

“That stuff, huh?”

He rolled his eyes, “I was sheltered ok, give me a break.” They came to a stop at a crossroads, and Adam stepped down from her back and onto the dirt tilting his head to listen trying to detect any signs of a disturbance as of yet there was nothing. He turned to the left down another line of tents passing into a more populated area of the protest encampment.

People wearing specially made clothing, with the LFIL logo, shirts, scarves, bandannas, jackets, hats etc. etc. walked about openly with their alien companions, a few even brave enough to show overt affection towards each other.

A human hugging a Tesraki, while another stood on a box to kiss the cheek of their drev partner.

“Now that, is something I couldn’t do.” he said to sunny, walking past.

“Kiss someone/”

“No, Kiss someone two to three feet taller than me. Way too much work.”

“How do you know, maybe climbing up three feet would be worth it.”

Eyes followed them nervously as they walked past, their riot gear marking them as ‘the enemy’.

“I would rather not be in danger of twisting my ankle every time I wanted to show someone affection, thanks.”

“You twist your ankle anyway.”

“That’s my point. If I twist my ankle now, Imagine what would happen if I had to do acrobatics on a regular basis.” They came to a halt as a group of protesters paraded in front of them holding up picket signs.

One of the protesters turned to glare at him, “We aren't doing anything illegal.”

Adam held up his hands, “I know. I’m just security to make sure no one gets hurt.’

The other human didn’t seem convinced angrily grabbing their alien companion around the waist before marching off.

The Tesraki looked uncomfortable looking back at them apologetically.

Though tesraki were generally cutthroat businessmen, they tended towards extreme submissiveness in relationships with humans.

Adam stepped through the gap left by the protesters and continued walking.

As they did they early ran into a group of kids selling little white flags and bandannas. They pulled to a halt, eyes widening in surprise and shock. A young Tesraki pulled to a halt with them looking as if he was about to panic and run off.

However, the kid at the front’s eyes widened and a big smile crossed his face,, ‘holy shit! You, I know you!”

Adam smiled, “You do now?”

“Yeah , yeah you’re in that movie. You, you command the UNSC fleet.”

For some reason, that exclamation calmed the other kids, and they squealed, shouting and asking for a picture. Of course he was happy to oblige, posing with them for their pictures. Sunny stood to the side happy to watch though she was dragged in for the next set of pictures once they realized who she was.

“What are you doing here?” one of them asked glancing down at his clothing. Smile falling, “You…. aren't here to stop us are you?”

Adam shook his head, “No, of course not, protesting isn’t illegal.” He motioned to Sunny with his other hand, “Sunny and I are just here to make sure that you guys stay safe, and that no one gets hurt.’

Sunny nodded.

One of the more skeptical looking teens looked up at him, “How do we know you aren't here to stop us. You work for the GA after all.”

Adam shrugged, “I don’t have much else to prove other than my word.”

The skeptic looked at them, a wicked smile appearing on her face, “I know.” She reached into her cart and pulled out one of the bandannas, “Wear this.”

It was clear she expected him to balk at the idea, but to her surprise, he smiled, “Alright, sounds reasonable.” he held out his arm, and watched, still smiling as she tied it around his upper arm still glowering at him skeptically, “Think you can spare one for my friend.” He patted Sunny on the arm.

That broke her skepticism, and she smiled openly handing a second one over to him, which he tied around one of Sunny’s upper arms. He waved a goodby to them, and stepped back up onto Sunny’s back walking away with her.

“That was nice of you.”

He shrugged, ‘Not really. I honestly agree with them. The GA has no right to tell them who they can and cannot be with. I know they have some reasons, but I feel like there is a better way of dealing with it.”

Sunny hummed deep in her throat, “Uh-huh, or you really just want a really tall girlfriend.”

He sighed, “Honestly I’d settle for any size girlfriend if I could just talk to her like a normal person without sticking my foot in my mouth.”

“Your incompetence with women is acrobatic.”

He snorted, “I’m glad you’re impressed.

Together, they continued their slow circle around the encampment drawing suspicious and confused eyes as they went. Sometimes they were recognized, and, occasionally people would ask to take pictures with them, other times, they just wanted to talk.

The variety of people was… astounding.

A barely five foot human with a nine foot Drev. A group of humans and a group of Tesraki.

A lawyer and a Finnari.

Two couples both as business partners with a Tesraki half.

They were young and old male-female, in all different pairings. Old soldiers, and young students. It was honestly quite stunning.

At one point they stopped off for water and ran into a Massive bodybuilder with his drev, whose carapace at any other time would have marked her as ugly for a Drev. At first Sunny felt bad for her, with her muddy brown carapace, mat without any shine.

The man turned and handed Adam some water.

Adam raised the bottle, “Thanks.”

The man looked him over eyeing the bandanna around his arm, “Interesting accessories for a GA affiliate.”

“You can work for someone and disagree with them.”

The man laughed, “I suppose that’s true.”

He greeted Sunny as well who was trying not to stare at the other female Drev for too long lest it seem like she was staring..

He motioned to the arm band, “Supporter, or-” his eyes flicked between Adam and Sunny.

“We’re just here to make sure everyone stays safe.”

Off to the side the mat Drev looked at Sunny, “I’m sorry.”

Sunny glanced over at her nervously, “Sorry for what?”

“You must have been treated poorly on Anum.”

Sunny shuffled her feet awkwardly, “I was alright.”

“Regardless. I hope things work out for you. The Drev beauty standards are unfair, and things need to change.”

Sunny wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to feel about that.

“They aren't so bad.” she ventured defensively.”

“Then I am sure you are getting combat offers left and right with your coloring.”

Sunny went quiet again . She would have said this was passive aggressive, but the Drev didn’t do passive aggressive, so was this just an open statement about how ugly she was? If that was the case, it kind of hurt.

“I have, because I am an experienced warrior.” Her voice was cold.

“Oh, where is your partner?”

Sunny felt her fists clench, but Adam placed a hand on her arm. She was quiet, “I turned them down.”

That seemed to surprise the female Drev.

The two humans exchanged a look, the way that only humans can, speaking without actually saying anything.

Adam took Sunny by the arm and raised his water at the man, “Good luck to you.” before turning to walk away.

“I hope you find a battle partner.” the other Drev cut in at the last second.

Adam Squeezed Sunny’s arm tighter, but she turned her head anyway snapping, “I already have.” Before marching off without another word. Adam was forced to scamper after her, his legs much shorter.

“Wow, wow, hold your horses.”

She finally slowed to a stop still fuming.

“Who the hell does she think she is!”

“Sunny-.”

“Calling me ugly to my face!”

“Sunny-”

“I should have challenged her to a duel right then and there.”

“Sunny!”

She turned to look at him, “What?”

He climbed back up on her back patting her shoulder, “She was just insecure and jealous.I mean come on, look at you, Blue is the rarest color in the galaxy, and we all know that height is the least important attribute of Drev beauty standards. The better you can fight, the more you make up for it, besides it's not her fault that she can’t accept someone as being valid unless they are in a pair.”

Sunny grunted.

He frowned, “Speaking of which, coming from her it seems like a double standard. You fight with me, and I’m fucking awesome, so by default you have to be too.”

“Wow Adam, you really know how to make a person feel better.”

“I know.”

They were crossing back to the other side of the encampment, when they ran into some familiar faces.

Ramirez and Maverick appeared from the crowd, waving the two of them down with greeting hands.

They pulled to a stop, and the Commander motioned to the white bandanna on Ramirez’s arm, “Nice accessories.”

“I like yours too.”

“I didn’t know you were a supporter.”

Ramirez laughed, “Man I am a supporter of whatever the hell people want to do with themselves.”

Off to his side maverick had tied one of the white bandannas to her belt.

“And you.”

“Personally, I don’t give a shit. I don’t even think it should be an issue, but by banning it, the GA created a problem for themselves and took away the freedom of choice for these people. Even if I did disagree with what they are doing, I would still support their ability to make that choice for themselves.” She tugged on the bandanna, “But hey, would I be wearing this otherwise.”

The commander nodded his head surprised and pleased at his men for being so open minded, though he supposed it should make sense. They worked with aliens every day. Where others might have fostered a sense of fear based on unfamiliarity, they had experience.

“Lets just hope this all goes over well tomorrow. I don’t want to have to use any of this.” He motioned down to his gear

The commander sighed.

“Isn’t that the catch 22.”

Loyal to one side sympathetic to the other, and empathetic to both.

He would be relieved when it was finally fixed.

Though how he could help was beyond him.

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please-return-to-villanelle · 5 years ago

Text

This Is Not A Game, It’s My Life

S3E6 recap

The bitter pill of reality has been a hard one to swallow for Eve, Villanelle, Konstantin, and Carolyn over the course of this series. What this episode highlights well is that this spy-life and entanglement with the Twelve is no longer a game for anyone one, but rather a reality they are all living in whether they like it or not.

One of the ways this episode roots the characters in this newfound reality is through select color choices of the title cards and the character’s attire.

Light blue is associated with understanding and tranquility while darker blues represents knowledge, power, and seriousness. This title card is indicating that this episode will revolve around realization for the main characters while each of them uncover new information that allows them to come to terms with their realities.

Eve’s reality

The title cards in season 3 have transitioned from establishing where characters are located and are now giving insight into the psyche of the main characters.

Piss Off Forever

Forever flashes to signify that Eve is coming to terms with finally accepting the reality of her failed marriage with Niko.

It's interesting that this title card is yellow. The color yellow can symbolize optimism or cowardice. Maybe the yellow words are ironically representing the optimism with which they once viewed their relationship; but that is not the reality they find themselves in now.

This whole situation happened because neither Eve nor Niko were brave enough to express what they wanted and end their toxic relationship once and for all. The act of ending their marriage has played out like a game between the two of them. Both of them waiting for the other to make the final move to end it.

We learn that Niko is usually asleep every time Eve comes to visit. Is he avoiding her or actually unconscious? I’m thinking the former as Niko’s injuries wouldn’t equate to an unconscious state (see my other post for a medical break down if interested). Niko deliberately avoiding Eve would play homage to how the two of them are not being direct with each other. Neither of them has the courage to cut ties with each other. While it’s clear that Niko is over having Eve in his life, he doesn’t directly verbalize this to Eve until he is lying in this hospital bed after almost being murdered himself. It’s worth noting that Niko is still wearing his wedding ring in this scene, again showing that neither of them has fully let go of the other up until this point.

I told him, don’t marry her. She will make your life a great big ball ache.

This statement from Niko’s family member indicates that there was inequality in this relationship from the very start that was noticeable to people observing Niko and Eve’s relationship.

I’d also like to point out Eve’s outfit in this scene. She is wearing earth tones as she often does, which are muted and flat colors. This could signify Eve hiding her true nature, as she often does when she ties her hair back, and existing in the moment rather than living in it. I think it’s significant to this scene with Niko because she is taking this interaction and mulling it over internally while Niko makes his move to end the game.

This can’t be about the bus.

Still got it... this is the phrase used by someone playing a game, but Eve knows that this is a game Villanelle isn’t playing with her. They made that clear with the kiss.

Someone else is playing a game with Eve.

Sometimes you just need to let it win.

But Eve, ever the control freak and someone that needs to be right all the time, would not easily let someone else, let alone her own emotions as Bear alludes to, beat her at a game.

She teaches wee kinds to do roly-polies.

Eve puts two and two together that Dasha trains others to imitate and therefore was imitating Villanelle to mess with her.

Game on, Dasha.

Before confronting Dasha directly, Eve visits Carolyn to collect intel on her opponent. She is wearing the same outfit as before but with a purple scarf

Purple combines the calm stability of blue and the fierce energy of red.

Through her wardrobe, we see Eve slowly transitioning from plain MI5 Eve that was married to Niko to the Eve that is more in tune with her own desires and feelings. She does what she wants and answers to no one.

But if it’s the Twelve Eve, does it really matter who?

I could say the same about Kenny.

This scene shows that the Twelve murdering and harming loves ones is personal to both Eve and Carolyn. Eve is homeless and jobless (does the Bitter Pill even pay her?) while Carolyn is working off the clock to find out what happened to Kenny.

Up for a game?

The title card depicts the location Barcelona in red letters. Red is the color of fire and blood, passion and strength, desire and love. With a such a passionate color choice, we would expect to see a more state of mind title card rather than a simple location. I think this is because Eve is calm and collected when she comes to see Dasha rather than overtly emotional. She is wearing a purple turtleneck to show us this.

Purple combines the calm stability of blue and the fierce energy of red.

She has found a balance and is wearing her hair is down. The real Eve Polastri has arrived and is here to end this game with Dasha.

You think you are winning. You will never win at this game. You can’t beat us, you understand?

I think this is the crux of what is happening in the overall plot with the Twelve. We have 4 people who became inveigled with this organization and are all trying to escape their ties to it. But they are all slowly realizing that dealing with the Twelve and working for the Twelve is not a game.

I know you’re working for the Twelve. I know you’re working with her.

I just love how Eve and Villanelle don’t use each other’s name when taking to other people and everyone just understands they are referring to one another. It’s as if everyone on the planet is aware of their sapphic relationship. I just love it.

She will never be loyal to you.

Eve does not view her relationship with Villanelle as a game and knows there is some thread of understanding between them. It’s the only thing she can rely on anymore and I think we will see more of that in the final 2 episodes.

In the final moment of Eve’s storyline in this episode, she plays her last move and in her purple turtleneck with her hair down she finally lets go of Niko.

End of game.

Villanelle’s Reality

Villanelle is a visual contradiction of projecting power with her wardrobe (dark blue suit and gold shoes) contrasted with her unhinged emotional state in which she is powerless to her raging emotions.

Helene’s phone conversation sets the stage for the game Villanelle is trapped in.

This exposition gives Villanelle insight into how Helene and Dasha are managing her.

At first Helene is speaking directly to her daughter. She tells her daughter what she wants to hear to placate and calm her down. Afterwards, she has a conversation with grandma who has full knowledge of her daughter’s complaints and Helene’s tone and verbiage shifts to reveal her true intentions.

She’s doing all this to get our attention.

Villanelle acts out because she seeks attention.

Put some cream on it. That’ll calm her a bit.

Give Villanelle things to make her feel better temporarily: money, houses, the illusion of freedom and control.

Its official. To Villanelle the Keeper.

Villanelle smiles and downs the entire glass of champagne in triumph. She is temporarily basking in her freedom until... she receives the post card and the illusion of power is shattered.

This is the same stuff I was doing before. This is bullshit

You bargained for what you wanted, and we are giving it to you. You’ll get all the material perks you were expecting. What more do you want?

It becomes apparent that the Keeper position Villanelle was granted was nothing more than another tool her handlers were using manipulate her with.

This made me think of Villanelle’s Roman centurion and emperor metaphor. A centurion, or foot soldier, is someone who takes orders and carries them out similarly to how assassins are told who to kill by their handlers. While the title of emperor holds power and gives the perception of being in charge, this is not always true in reality. Sometimes a political title can be nothing more than a symbol of power for the figure head of the state while the minor politicians give the orders behind the scenes. This is Villanelle the Keeper’s reality.

Villanelle is over the Twelve and seeks the only family she has left: Konstantin.

They kill you the second they realize it.

I want this.

He reveals his plan to exit the Twelve for good likely with the 6 million euros he has stolen and his daughter Irina in tow. But exiting the Twelve is no simple task.

Do you know what this means? It means you have to leave everything: the clothes, apartment, and her.

I know.

This dialogue parallels with the end of season 2 when Konstantin encouraged Villanelle to run away after killing Aaron Peele. She wasn’t ready to let go of Eve then because keeping Eve was still part of her ultimate end game. But now the game is over, and she just wants to be free and at this point in time is prepared to give up everything including Eve to get the one thing she wants: her freedom.

This is bullshit.

At the end of the episode we see Villanelle completely botch a kill and get injured in the process. Killing and watching the life drain from people’s eyes used to be something that made Villanelle feel powerful and gave her a sense of ultimate control. This is no longer the case as Villanelle comes to terms with her complete lack of autonomy and her inability to escape her emotions.

I’m done with this shit. I’m done with it, I’m leaving.

Carolyn’s Reality

Carolyn finally gets Kenny’s phone records that were being withheld by her boss Paul (confirmed plant for the Twelve). She is over this game the Twelve is playing with her as well and she decides to go straight to the source of the several in going and outgoing calls Kenny received before his demise: Konstantin.

Carolyn is also done with the game Geraldine is playing with her. She confronts her directly about the secrets held between them with regards to her involvement with Konstantin. I suspect we will get more answers to whatever is going on here in the next episode. Regardless, Carolyn is over it.

The drought can be endured but rot is an instant killer.

Konstantin’s Reality

Carolyn’s “I’m over these games” energy leads he straight to Konstantin who, judging by the title card, wishes he was free in Cuba. The color pink could symbolize love and romance. In this context, I think it is alluding the romantic history between Carolyn and Konstantin and his love for his daughter Irina.

Are you in a rush?

No, impatient.

During their car ride, he reveals that he might be Kenny’s father and while that is interesting information it is likely not a conversation that requires several phones calls to clear up. Indicating once again that Konstantin is being deceitful with everyone around him as a way to survive this game.

Interestingly, the aria Carolyn was listing to when taking to Mo about Kenny is playing in the background during the car ride. The song, Dido’s Lament, is about an apocalyptic romance between Aeneas and Dido in which one of the lovers leaves out of duty and the other is left to die (foreshadowing?). I’m wondering if this song is signifying that this is the last time Carolyn and Konstantin see each other. Much like Aeneas and Dido, these lovers leave a lot unresolved between them as they part ways.

Later on, Paul, Konstantin’s boss this season, orders Konstantin to track down the person that ordered the hit on Kruger’s wife, which we all know is Konstantin.

Game over for Konstantin.

He immediately packs his bags and goes to collect Irina. But his desire to be free does not outweigh his love for Irina as he stays behind to watch over her in the next episode after she kills her mom’s new boyfriend. Really interesting that he made sure Villanelle was ready to leave Eve behind, the woman that has her heart, but Konstantin was not willing to leave behind his daughter, the girl that has his. Perhaps Konstantin can’t imagine a reality without his daughter or maybe he has more loose ends to tie up before heading to Cuba.

#killing eve #killing eve analysis #end of game #Eve Polastri #villanelle #Carolyn Martins #konstantin vasiliev #villaneve #dasha #killing eve season 3

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kyber-crystal · 4 years ago

Note

So you don’t have to write this it’s an awful idea anyway, but I have a writing suggestion. So let me set the scene for you: It’s autumn and reader wants to go on a walk, Steve decides to join and they have a really good conversation. Then they come to this boardwalk thing and they talk on there for a bit, then after awhile Steve confesses that he loves the reader and they kiss and it’s all cute :) Sorry it’s a really bad idea, just a suggestion.

YES YES YES THIS IS SO FLUFFY OMG THIS ISNT BAD AT ALL. I LOVE FLUFFY STEVE SM

Steve knows you’re a huge nature lover & enthusiast

Even while on missions you like to point out the scenery around you and frankly, he finds this quite adorable

Fall in New York was one of your favorite times of year - with the vibrant colors of the trees, the perfect weather: not too cold but not too warm, either, and of course, cozy cable-knit sweaters and hot cocoa.

As a superhero, you were rarely ever granted breaks - so now that you had been given an opportunity to finally relax, you seized it right away

Although you and Steve weren’t officially a couple, you spent almost all of your free time with each other - cooking together, going on runs, sparring, and even playing piano together

You both found solace in talking walks downtown, admiring the hustle and bustle of your surroundings. Though your outings weren't always filled with chatter, his company was the only thing you really needed sometimes, and his as well

You'd taken to walk around Central Park together from time to time

Today, your schedules were both cleared of any events so you decided to head out a little farther than usual, taking the subway out closer to the coast. It was the crack of dawn and the skies were still pale and grey, so nobody was really around when you left

You gazed in awe at the leaves falling in gorgeous bursts of red, orange, and yellow, gently fluttering to the ground. Steve watched you stare and couldn’t help but smile - he loved seeing your face light up. It was a relieving contrast to your toughened-up facial expressions that he often saw on the battlefield - the look in your eyes you got before shooting your enemies dead with energy blasts.

It was a softer side of you that he didn’t see very often, but was glad whenever it emerged

Now that you were outside, you were beginning to deeply regret underestimating the weather and not dressing properly - your sweater and jeans clearly was no match for October’s chilly winds - today was rather cold.

"Oh god, it’s cold, I’m freezing," you muttered, shivering and rubbing your hands together in an attempt to stay warm, “I’m so stupid. I should’ve brought a jacket, at least...”

"Ha, that sucks," Steve was smirking at you, all bundled up in his thick jacket, with his fluffy scarf wrapped around his neck

"Oh. You're actually freezing," his eyes widened once he noticed your lips that were tinted slightly purple and your hands that were bright red. "Here." He took off his gloves, along with his jacket. You slid in each arm into the thick parka one at a time and buttoned it up before taking the gloves and slipping them onto your hands, thankful for the added warmth that it gave you

Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. You let out a small sigh of contentment - it really felt like you were being enveloped within a heater

“But you’re gonna get cold-”

“I’m wearing multiple layers, darling. And, I’m Captain America, I don’t get sick easily.”

“Thank you...” “Of course. Anything for my best girl.” You felt your face heat up at the name.

It was silent for another half hour or so before he spoke up again

“So...how’s your week been?”

“Uneventful. Not much going on...unless, if you call me almost melting the toaster with my bare hands this morning eventful.”

He laughed, head tilting back slightly as he did so. God, you could listen to him laugh forever--

“Really...how have you been holding up? You seemed pretty shaken after Paris.” (he was referring to you and the team being sent out to stop an arms trade happening in the midst of a gala at the Louvre. You slit a man’s throat with your trusty knife (he was about to shoot Natasha in the back), stabbed two others with tiny dessert forks, killed another four with your energy blasts (they were about to attack innocent partygoers at the bar) -- and were left traumatized after all the bloodshed)

“I’ve been better...but I’m okay.”

“You know I’m always here for you, right? If you ever need someone to vent to...or just talk with, you can come to me.”

The corners of your mouth turned up into a small grin. “Even if it’s at 3 a.m?”

“Even if it’s at 3 a.m,” he repeated, smiling down at you.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you...you’re the best.”

Steve felt his heart swell with pride. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“Nah. You’re really the best.”

“I still think that title belongs to you and you only, but think what you’d like, sweetheart.”

You arrived at a nice little boardwalk by the beach. By now the sun was just starting to rise - peeking above the horizon before bursting into flames in a colorful array of cotton candy pink, gold, and amber - it was a sight for sore eyes.

He subconsciously slid an arm around your waist, tugging you close into his side. You allowed yourself to relax and lean against him, resting your head against his shoulder

"What are you looking at?" A small smile tugged at the edges of your lips when you met his gaze and realized he'd been staring at you for a while. "Is there something on my face?"

"No, it's nothing," he shook his head, tightening his grip around you, “...nothing at all."

“Are you sure...? Because your eyes...”

“My eyes?”

“They sparkled.” You let out a short giggle, and Steve swore he felt his heart stop at that moment. “Is it because I look good? I honestly think I look like a mess. I threw on the first thing I saw in my closet.”

“No,” he smiled softly, “you look beautiful, doll.”

and then your heart just goes WOASDLADKLSPSPJRKLJLKJFSKL

because STEVE ROGERS just called you ‘beautiful’ and ‘doll’

this is the best day of my life you told yourself

Then he takes you by surprise by tilting his chin downwards and pressing his lips to yours

the entire time you’re thinking HOLY SHIT I’M KISSING STEVE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD and HOOOLY SHIT I’M TOUCHING HIS BACK MUSCLES AAAAAAA but at the same time you’re also like chiLl tf out Y/N you’re an ADULT but then you’re also like ADDFDSFOSDF I’M KISSING STEVE WHAT THE FUCK

“That was-”

“Amazing,” you quickly finished his sentence. Steve’s face immediately broke into a wide grin. You smiled even wider as you took note of the pink tinge to his cheeks. “But what was that all about?”

“I’m in love with you and I didn’t know what else to do. It was either take Bucky’s advice of just ‘going for it’ or listening to Tony and have him set us up.”

You shuddered. “I’m glad you didn’t go to Stark for help. God knows what he would’ve done.”

“I’m glad, too.” He smiled again and pulled you in for another kiss.

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips. “I love you a lot, Y/N.”

“I know. I love you too.”

#drabbles #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #chris evans #captain america imagine #captain america one shot #steve rogers one shot #captain america headcanon #steve rogers headcanon

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chickensarentcheap · 5 years ago

Text

Future Tyler/Husband Tyler/Daddy Tyler. PART 1

Okay...so here it goes...

I’m working on a multichapter thing. It be won’t be a finished and polished product for a while and I’m writing it in chunks. It basically will flash back to the past, include the present (movie time line), and the future. I can’t guarantee he will always be happy Tyler and husband Tyler and daddy Tyler and his ending will be one percent rainbows and unicorns, but damn it, the guy deserves a good ending of some kind! He is too good to be taken out by that little shit!

So here is a stitch of my Tyler Rake universe. In the future. About a year following the events in Extraction. The OC does a have a name but I am not revealing it until I post present (movie line) chapters.

However, I do need your guys help!

I need suggestions for a baby girl name. First and second. That sounds really good with the last name Rake. I’m counting on y’all lol

Comment if you want. Message me too. I love meeting new people and chatting about fics and anything else your heart desires!

I hope you enjoy :)

Oh! And I said I would tag @c-a-v-a-l-r-y (who honestly really encouraged me to post and do happy husband/daddy Tyler) and @alievans007

It's been just shy of twelve months and his instincts are still keen; nerves rash and fresh, body and mind always on high alert. The proof to the old adage that old habits really do die hard.

A journey to the very brink of death. Weeks of lying in a hospital bed teetering on the threshold of this life and the next. Countless agonizing hours of rehab and physical therapy just to relearn the basics and get back onto his weary and battered feet. Once he was home nothing had been able to slow him down. He threw everything he had into healing. Every ounce of mind, body, and spirit. Pushing himself past the warnings and the limits that the doctors and specialists had set for him. Ignoring the advice on not to push himself too hard, too fast. He felt as if he didn't have a choice. He no longer just had himself to take care. But another human being with one on the way that needed him to take care of them. Provide for them. Protect them. So he had pushed himself to the brink of both exhaustion and physical and emotional collapse. Eventually finding himself back at at the gym and packing on the weight and muscle. Anxious for some semblance of the man he used to be.

He hears the soft rustle of blankets though the monitor on the nightstand and his eyes immediately snap open. Sleep was a strange beast for him these days; nights where he could fall into a peaceful slumber and stay there until sunlight was streaming through the window, others where the pain was all encompassing and nauseating and he couldn't get comfortable, and those where he was haunted by the demons of his past. The latter didn't come nearly as often as they did. He'd managed to find some hint of internal peace with the things he had done and witnessed. Once in a while he'd find himself back on that bridge. Assaulted by the smells of gun powder and lead. The acrid taste of blood on his lips. And he'd hear his voice and feel her hands; the way she cradled his face in them, the way she'd pulled his nearly lifeless body tight against her, feel those tears that feel on his skin. Thankfully he'd awaken and quickly discover that he was in the safety and comfort of his own home. His own bed. And he'd watch her as she slept; the way the moonlight painted her smooth skin in an ethereal glow, the slight smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. He'd watch her and listen to her breathe and he'd remind himself of just how far he had come. Gratitude spreading through him like a slow burning fire. Thankful for the second chance that he'd been given. For the love that he'd found during one of the darkest and most difficult periods of his life. She'd given him a reason. A purpose. And he wasn't going to take that for granted.

He groans as he rolls over onto his back. The pain isn't as bad tonight. There were times he could barely even move. Where the agony made him dizzy and nauseous and even the simplest of tasks seemed impossible to preform. Tonight it's a dull ache; a nagging pain that has settled deep into his bones and his joints but he has learned to deal with. Placing his hands behind his head, he waits and listens. The lights from the monitor dancing across the ceiling as life stirs in the room across the hall. He's gotten used to it; the little noises, the soft sighs, the slight fussing before she settles herself back to sleep. It wasn't his first rodeo after all; not his first foray into fatherhood. But it is the first time he's been able to be more hands on. Put his be all and end all into the nurturing. And this time he knows he will get it right. He's determined to make amends for the mistakes of his past. Moving on didn't mean forgetting. It didn't mean that the love and regret and the guilt weren't still there, lingering just under the surface. Sometimes the greatest homage to the dead was how the living continued. How they made up for the bad decisions they made and how those decisions had...in the end...helped shape them into a better person.

The sounds through the monitor continue and he sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and giving his body and brain time to adjust to full consciousness. Running his hands through his hair and over his tired face, fingers brushing against the various scars that serve as a lasting memory of his former life. A pair of sweats sit in a discarded pile by the bed and he reaches for them; softly muttering profanities at the various cracks and pops that his body makes at the simple task of pulling on his pants. Scar tissue, arthritis, remnants of shrapnel and bullets that couldn't safely be removed. All working together to be a complete pain in his ass. His wife moves behind him. Sighing loudly and contently as she rolls over onto her side. Not waking as her hand instinctively reaching out for him; finger tips brushing against his back just as he stands up.

He is out the door and in the hall before the first shrill cry erupts. Yawning and stretching noisily as he steps into the nursery. A cheerful room with soft yellow walls, pink, white, and purple stripped curtains and natural wood furniture. Teddy bears and dolls staring down at him from the perches on the shelves on the wall, accompanied by framed photos of baby animals and Disney characters. He'd never pictured himself a 'girl dad'; frilly dresses and the tiny socks with the lace around the ankles, and the little headbands that served no other purpose than being cute. He was rough and tumble. Always had been, even from an early age. So when he'd found out he was having a daughter he'd been terrified. He didn't know the first thing about taking care of little girls and doing their hair and healing their broken hearts. And for the first time in his life was actually scared of something. Or someone. A being that hadn't even been born yet but was already making a huge impact on his life.

“You'll be fine,” his wife had assured him when he'd expressed his concern. Watching from the couch as she stood at the kitchen table folding laundry. Including a newly purchased outfit and those tiny teeny socks that she had purchased just hours ago. She was so beautiful. Standing there with that chestnut hair tumbling down to her waist, her belly swollen with their child. HIS child. A child that had been conceived in the midst of all the chaos and uncertainty. “You've ridden this particular bike before,” she'd reminded him. “This isn't your first time going through this.”

“That was different. That was a boy. This is a girl. This is dresses and pig tails and tea parties and make up and other boys.”

“Tyler, that's years down the road. You can't worry about that stuff. Make up and boys? You can't dwell on what she's going to be like when she's a teenager.”

“I sure bloody well can. Because knowing my luck she'll end up just like her mother. Full of piss and vinegar and all kinds of trouble.”

“You always did know how to get yourself into heaps of it,” she'd smirked, and tossed a pair of balled up socks in his direction, just missing his head. “But you always managed to get yourself out of it too.”

“I knew you were trouble from the very second I met you, you know,” he'd said, as he got off the couch and wandered over to where she was so diligently working. Liking the way that simple white gold wedding band looked on her finger. He still hadn't gotten used to; it had only been a few months and even with that life growing in her belly, they were still very much enjoying being newlyweds. He liked it. Being a husband. He liked the simplicity and the comforts that came with the little things that took up their new life. Household chores and preparing meals and sharing a bed with the same warm body and beautiful face each and every day. Mundane to some. A welcome change and relief to him.

“I wasn't the one with the reputation for being difficult,” she'd reminded him. “I wasn't the one who was like a bear with a sole asshole even on his best days.”

“Yet here you are. Playing house with me. A good little wife. Giving me babies. So I must have done something right, huh?” he'd playfully nudged her with his elbow. “You stuck around. Through thick or thin. I put you through a lot of shit and agony and here you are. Here WE are.”

“You can't get rid of me that easily, Tyler Rake. You think you would have realized that by now.”

“Getting rid of you is the last thing I ever want.”

They'd stood in companionable silence; working quickly and efficiently together. Little boring tasks that they almost never got to experience. He'd never take things like that for granted again. And he'd grabbed a pair of her underwear from the fresh pile and hooking them around his finger, grinned as he swung them around.

“How'd we ever graduate to these, huh? These are not what I remember you wearing. You weren't wearing any the first time we...well...you know...”

“You're such a pig,” she'd grumbled, and tried to snatch them away. Frowning when he held them high above his head. Not an easy reach for a woman that only stood five foot three. “What is wrong with you? Seriously.”

“I thought you were trouble the second I met you. The way you shook my hand. The way you smiled at me. But I knew it for sure when I had you pinned against that wall and I put my hand down your shorts and realized that you weren't any underwear. Remember that? That first time? I knew I was in trouble but I didn't want to stop. I couldn't stop. I was surprised you were such a kinky little thing.”

“You've got issues. What is your major malfunction?”

“Nothing wrong with a little visit to the past. Especially when it involves being naked.”

“Would you stop?” she'd perched herself on her tip toes and frantically tried to grab the offending piece of clothing from his grasp. “What's gotten into you?”

“It's what hasn't gotten into you in a while,” he'd retorted, laughing when she'd directed a slap to his gut, his arms circling her waist when she'd lost her balance and tumbled into him. And they'd stood like that; her head against his chest, his eyes closed and his chin resting on the top of her head. Loving all those things about her that had become so familiar and comforting to him. The lingering scent of coconut shampoo that clung to her hair, the feel of her heart beating against him, those small and soft hands stroking up and down his back. This woman...the one that had seen him at his most fragile...who he owed his life to.

Her hands were on the back of his shoulders when she'd pulled away and looked up at him. Her eyes sparkling as she smiled. A smile he had once thought he'd never see again.

“I love you,” he'd told her. Three words that he had always hesitated on uttering before but now couldn't say enough. If Gaspar was still around he'd call him soft. Tell him he was whipped and a pussy and needed to get his balls back. But he wasn't around anymore.

A lot of people weren't.

“I know,” she'd said. “But not nearly as much as I love you.”

“Hey, this isn't a competition. And if it was, I'd win. I always do.”

“You have a very overinflated sense of yourself,” she'd chided.

He was her rock. He knew that. Even when he was still recovering and he was nothing more than a mere fraction of the man he once was. Even when she had to help nurse him back to health and he'd had to trust her completely with even the mundane things like feeding himself and brushing his teeth. But she'd stuck by him. Even when he felt humiliated that he even needed help with such things. Embarrassed that she was seeing him so vulnerable. Allowing her to see his tears of anger, frustration, and pain. She'd always said that he was the only one that made her feel safe and secure. Protected. Even when he wasn't at his best.

“Shit...” she'd grimaced when the baby had kicked her especially hard. Eyes closing and her forehead falling onto his chest.

“Even I felt that one,” he'd move one hand from her waist to her ever growing stomach. Marvelling at the way he could feel their baby...his baby...moving inside of her. It may not have been his first time. Not his first child. But he was determined to enjoy every second of it and not take a single moment for granted. “See what I mean? Trouble just like her mom. Feisty as all hell. A boy wouldn't cause this many issues.”

“Boys come with a whole shit load of issues. After all, it was a boy that got me into this situation in the first place.”

“Come on now, I wasn't the only one that was having all the fun. You seemed to be enjoying yourself too. I didn't make this baby all on my own, you know.”

“It was fun,” she'd admitted. “It always is.”

“Yeah. It most definitely is.”

One of her hands came down to rest on top of his and they stood there together, feeling their child moving inside of her. Marvelling at all the kicks and wriggles. At the miracle that they had created. All because two people fell in love during the entirely wrong time and in the entirely wrong place.

“You need to take it easy there, sweetheart,” he'd spoken to his daughter, his hand moving in slow, comforting circles. “Go easy on your mum, okay? Daddy's already put her through enough to last a lifetime.”

“She listens to you already. She likes your voice.”

“Already takes after her mother. Isn't that one of the first things you said you liked about me? My voice?”

“It does funny things to my insides. Even now.”

“I like doing funny things to your insides,” he'd dropped a kiss on the top of her head and she'd looked up at him once again.

“I think we should go to bed.”

“It's only eight thirty.”

“I don't mean to sleep. I mean to do other things. Fun things. Things that help you sleep better.”

A slow grin had spread across his face.

He didn't need to be told twice.

#Tyler Rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic

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specialmindz · 5 years ago

Photo

“dad?”

CLATTER!

CRASH!

“UGH! DAMNIT!”

“Nyeh hee hee hee!”

“IT’S NOT FUNNY PAPYRUS!”

CA-THUMP!

The scientist continued to fumble about the lab, searching for the appropriate parts to fix the generator.

“Ki-et down Daddy, you wake up Boo Boo!”

“Oh no, don’t mind me…I’m just happy to be here…” The little spirit monster shifted a bit in Sans’ grasp, having been mistaken for a pillow in the dark.

“You aren’t SUPPOSED to be here! NO ONE is to visit the lab at this hour!” replied Gaster, still searching for a flashlight. He didn’t approve of his littlest scavenging at the Dump, but every once in a while, Papyrus would bring home something he could use and the flashlight was one of them.

Figures he couldn’t find it now of all times.

What on earth could have happened? The magic crystals still have power in them and the generator itself is in perfect repair! This blackout makes no sense!

He wasn’t used to something being broken without Papyrus having some sort of hand in it.

“Just in case however, did you touch the generator Papyrus?”

The baby bones nodded vigorously, “Yep! We’s out of ghost food, so I decided to make snacks for Boo Boo, but we was out of the veggie oil.”

“Veggie oil?”

A few moments went by before the elder skeleton jumped suddenly in alarm and rushed out of the workshop, running downstairs into the True Lab’s living quarters, apparently heading for their kitchen.

“hey uh bro? you didn’t use the oil from the generator-”

“YOU DUMB LITTLE SHIT!”

“Oh nooo…”

Hiding his face in Sans’ shirt, Napstablook shook in terror, unused to the family’s quarrels. Though the scientist’s anger was nostalgic and reminded him of one of his cousins, it had been awhile since he’d heard any yelling and he had heard from Papyrus that Gaster wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. The fact that this was probably the spirit’s fault, made things even worse as he had been hoping to make a good impression on the family.

So much for that.

“I’m sorry, this is all my fault…”

“naw, forget about it. you’re a guest, right? guests are supposed to get snacks. pap just made a mistake is all.”

“Heh heh heh…”

“hm? what’s so funny?”

“I like your accent.”

Papyrus looked up, grinning. “Me too, Snas from Boston, so he say stuff like 'fuhgeddaboudit' and ‘I’s hittin’ da’ bricks’ and ‘here’s lookin’ at you kid!”

“i don’t spell it like that! and what does that last one even mean?”

SHHHEERRAA!

Before the infant could answer, the elevator door opened and Gaster came rushing out. He didn’t stop to say anything to the children, he merely grabbed a vial of…something…and ran back in, keeping the door open with his wingdings.

Not that this was a good idea mind you, as he soon realized all too late that he wasn��t alone, just as the elevator closed and began its second descent.

“I do hope you’s not planning on ruining mah new firepace stink Daddy,” said the baby, still wearing his smile from before.

“Huh? What the hell? How’d you get in here?!”

“I cuwalled.”

“Well when we get to the living quarters, you can CRAWL your miniature ass to your room! Do you know how difficult it is to put out an oil fire?”

“How this ellyvator work without da’ tricity? You learn Snas’ witchcraft?”

“Of course not. I’ve a second generator hidden downstairs…just in case you break the first one. Unfortunately, it doesn’t reach-”

“THERE A CWOSER BABY MASSAGER?!”

“Wh-what? ‘Baby Massager?’ Are you laying on the generator?”

“Yep! Is fun. I likes it better than the washy machine cause’ it always on. It feel nice on mah bones and it make me go UHUHUHUHUH…then I falls off.”

Gaster shook his head.

“What? What I do?”

“Though vibrations are good for bones and newborns alike, the generator is NOT the best tool to use because of the oil within it. THIS generator especially. This one, connected to the lab, is custom designed to keep running indefinitely…not something a normal generator should ever do. I haven’t a choice however, if I want to keep Mt. Ebott from erupting. The oil I use comes from a reservoir that’s FAR too close to the surface of Hotland. It needs to be depleted less there be an explosion, but no matter how much is used, there seems to be no end to it.”

“That sound like a solution to da’ power problem we gots dough. Why you not use it?” asked Papyrus curiously. He didn’t know much about oil, he assumed it was discovered and researched sometime after he was born. He hadn’t heard anyone else mention it before either…unless it had something to do with cooking. The stuff he had poured out of generator upstairs was a liquid, but liquids were supposed to put OUT fires, weren’t they? “The yellow made the oven a firepace. It cook mah food too good and now no one gets noms. It do other bad stuffs?”

“Yes it does…and that wasn’t vegetable oil Papyrus, it simply had the same color. That was generator oil and a result of refinement on my part. Unrefined oil, or Crude Oil, is a thick, black, eldritch sludge that kills all it touches. It’s made from the deceased bodies of creatures no one in recorded history has ever seen alive and has lied in wait within the earth’s crust for literally millions of years. That being said, it is unfortunately naturally occurring, and everyone aware of its existence is infatuated with it BECAUSE it’s such a huge power source. That’s why I’ve kept it a secret from the public and use it in my experiments as little as possible. It may grant us advanced technology almost immediately, but the things created with it also kill, albeit slowly, meaning you don’t have to come into contact with oil itself in order to become a victim. It’s not evil, but it will take some time before we can figure out a way to use it safely…and keep others from using it poorly.”

Gaster shuddered upon imagining the horror and chaos that would no doubt ensue if ever the monsters were to find out about his discovery. One small mistake is all it would take for Mt Ebott to erupt and annihilate everyone. Even the fire elementals would be destroyed, either drowned in lava or pushed into the barrier and rendered to dust.

“Papyrus, you must promise me that you will keep this a secret. I know it isn’t in your nature to do such a thing, but your life is at stake, along with everyone else’s. That includes Sans, you hear me? I don’t want him knowing about this reservoir less he be tempted to experiment with-PAPYRUS GET OFF THE GENERATOR! WHAT DID I JUST TELL YOU?!”

“UHUHUHUHUHUH!”

SHHHEERRAA!

“dad?”

CLACK!

The baby bones fell to the floor and crawled over to Sans.

“Hey Snas! SNAS!”

“hm?”

“DADDY FOUND OIL!”

“You son of a bitch.”

“cool. don’t play with it.”

“Why?”

“it’s like tar. it’ll make you smell bad and ruin your jammies.”

“Kay’.”

Papyrus used his wingdings to lay, once again, atop the generator.

“Sans, I must ask you to keep this oil reservoir a secret. Despite how desperate the power situation is, oil is not the answer for a civilization living within a volcano.”

“yeah i know about oil dad, i’m not dumb. i read more than space books ya’ know…”

“UHUHUHUHUHUHUH!”

“I’m well aware you know what oil is, I’m just SAYING-”

“NYEAH!”

CLACK!

Gaster knocked Papyrus off the generator.

“I’m just saying, the temptation is there and it targets both the money-poisoned AND the lazy. There may come a time during an experiment where you feel oil will solve a particular problem, I assure you, it will cause more than it solves. We aren’t the only intelligent beings in the Underground, if you use oil to create something, it’s quite possible an individual will discover the usage through reverse engineering and in turn, wonder where exactly the oil CAME from.”

“NYEHHHHAAAHH!! SUCK-ASS DADDY! SEE THAT BOO BOO? DAT’S THAT BABY ABUSE I’S TALKIN’ BOUT’!”

“I-I didn’t s-see anything…also, what’s ‘oil?”

“ehh, don’t worry about it,” said Sans, thinking quickly. “you don’t eat our food right?”

“Oh, cooking oil…I remember that. It’s made from seeds…”

“Yep! I’s gonna make you something delicious, but I’s out of the cooking oil and baby oil be for baby food, so-”

“Baby oil is for skin,” said Gaster, rubbing his temples.

“Nyeh?”

“Baby oil. It’s for skin. It’s called baby oil because it supposedly makes your skin feel soft like an infant’s.”

What exactly is Sans DOING while I’m busy working? He’s not telling him this stuff as a joke, is he...?

“Nuh-uh Daddy, daz baby lotion! You confused. BABY OIL be for cooking, like baby powder and-”

“Baby powder is also for skin. It is not a type of baking powder NOR is it a baking soda of any sort. You have no business in the kitchen Papyrus.”

“What Baby’s Breath then?”

“Not parsley.”

“Baby spice?”

“That’s a person.”

“Baby fat?”

“Well it’s lard, but-”

“why don’t you just stick with baby potatoes and baby carrots bro?”

“Why don’t you just stay out of the kitchen period? The oven is not a toy and I believe I’ve told you as such already.”

“NO!” cried the baby bones indignantly. “I’s a genius baby and I deserves the best of edgy-cations! LOOK! Look what dis baby has right here!” Papyrus pulled a page, seemingly torn from an old magazine, out of his onesie and presented it to his family. It showed a young human in overalls, a toddler by the looks of it, pretending to cook on a toy kitchen set, plastic spatula in hand.

“aww, duude!”

That human’s so cute! Is that really a baby one? I wanna pet it soo bad! It’d probably bite the shit out of me though…

“hey, napstablook! c’mere and look at this human!”

Shyly, Napstablook floated over to the group and peered over Sans’ shoulder.

“Heh…”

“cute right?”

“It’s got a spatula…it thinks it’s cooking…”

“They not cooking, they’s modeling. They saying ‘look what I has and you doesn’t! Don’t you wish you had a nice baby-kitchen like me?’ They’s mocking!”

“nobody’s mocking you pappy.”

“THEY’S LAUGHING AT ME!”

“i guarantee this baby doesn’t know you exist.”

“Your brother’s right. What’s happening here is you’ve created a personal fantasy out of boredom and forgotten it was a fantasy. Something you need to learn not to do while you’re daydreaming-”

“All I needs to do is show dis baby that I’S the superior bae! Imma be the best cook ever and I’ll use the big people oven to do it! I don’t need their stink rainbow kitchen!”

“…Or perhaps you merely want an excuse to use the oven even though I JUST said no.”

I asked him to stay out of the Parent magazines to begin with…

Papyrus had an annoying habit of using those particular publications to come up with ideas for “brother-time” with Sans. A time where he would (sometimes quite literally) pick Sans up out of bed and have him do an arts and crafts activity with him, usually involving copious amounts of glue and chemicals Gaster wasn’t sure how he even got ahold of.

Not that the messes were the most obnoxious thing about it, THOSE he could handle. He was used to his smallest making messes.

No, no It was the MIMICRY that the scientist couldn’t stand. Those magazines were to inform parents of why their babies behaved the way they did, but Papyrus would use them as guidelines on “how to be a better baby.”

“Give me the markers Papyrus!”

“NO! These are MY paint-sticks! I keeps the markers cause’ I saw them first.”

“That’s not how that works, where did you even get that ide-no. Do not. Do not pull out that magazine again, god-DAMNIT Papyrus!”

“It say right here, ‘baes between two and four beweave that da’ person who gets an object first is the rightful owner, even if someone else gets hold of it later’ This be what babies do and I’s a baby, so these markers are mine now.”

“Give me that FUCKING magazine.”

“Is my ucking maggy-zeen.”

“Papyrus…”

“I sawed it first. Is the law.”

Gaster reached for the hated literature, causing the infant to quickly shove it back into his onesie. He then clacked his teeth together twice, a signal that meant any further attempts to get closer would result in a bite.

Because that’s what babies did.

They bit people.

“SANS, WHERE ARE YOU?! COME GET YOUR BROTHER!

“You’re not using the oven Papyrus.”

“*Sigh* Fine, I gots a solution for dis.” Crawling out of the kitchen, Papyrus headed into the Nursery and towards his toybox. He didn’t have to rummage long, as he was a very organized baby, and soon he found what he was looking for; an only slightly grimy multicolored maraca. He didn’t know why such a gem had been thrown away, but it made the most wonderful sound…

“What is that?” asked Gaster upon seeing his two-year-old reenter the room. The baby held the maraca by the handle with both hands and shook it.

CHACA-CHACA!

“…”

“Is a big-person rattle! I finded it at the Dump and is the bestest treasure ever! I’s gonna save it for when I does something really bad, but I needs that oven, so we trade. I gets to use the oven and you can pay wit mah rattle!”

“I don’t-”

“Pay not keep.”

“…I don’t need a rattle Papyrus.”

CHACA-CHACA!

“Heh heh, your brother swings it like a sledgehammer…”

“well yeah, he’s small.”

CHACA-CHACA!

“Stop that.”

“Be mesmerized.”

“I’m not interested Papyrus.”

“HOW YOU NOT INTERESTED IN DIS BIG PERSON RATTLE?” yelled Papyrus, completely baffled. “YOUR BRAIN BROKE!”

“not everyone likes rattles pappy.”

“Your brain broke…or maybe you’s planning to steal mah treasure while I’s napping so you doesn’t have to give up da’ oven!”

“No.”

“I bet you are! You’s gonna wait till I’s asweep in my widdle cwib and then you gonna take my toy and blame it on Snas!”

“No.”

“I bets you’s lying about the oil too! Baby oil be a cooking ingredient for babies, but you don’t likes it when I’s better at things than you, so you try to get baby to use fake cwap like ‘sugar’ and ‘spice.” The infant glared at the wall, remembering the disappointment he felt when he tried to get free sugar from Undyne. He had heard girls were made from sugar and spice, but what he managed to collect (along with a few new cracks in his skull) were scales.

Not delicious.

“You know full well I’m not lying…or you would if you were paying attention-”

“YOU DOESN’T LET ME EAT AT DA’ DUMP AND YOU DOESN’T LET ME EAT WITH THE OVEN! HOW I SUPPOSED TO GET NUTRIENTS?”

“Just drink your formula, it has everything you need.”

“NO! I needs solids…like these fintstone yummies.” Papyrus pulled out a bottle labeled Flintstone Vitamins. “They looks like rocks, but they shaped like peoples!”

“hmm…” curiously, Sans popped one into his mouth and began to chew. “this one tastes like an orange.”

“Nyeh hee hee hee! Silly Snas, orange be a color, not a food!”

Silly Sans.

“Hmph, It’s a condensed version of Vitamin C most likely. Vitamin C is essential to the formation of collagen, so it should increase one’s bone density, but I doubt you’ll get much out of them.”

“it says vitamin d on it.”

“What? Vitamin D? Give me that bottle!”

“NYEH!”

Gaster snatched up the bottle in one quick motion and studied the label. If Sans hadn’t misread anything, then this was an extraordinary find indeed. Very few foods in nature contained Vitamin D and nature was what everyone depended on in the Underground. The people’s only source of it was found in fish and within the eggs of birds who had accidently flown into Mt. Ebott. Because they were so rare and important as a food source, the security around the areas in which they were bred was even tighter than at the castle. It was rationed carefully and NO ONE got special privileges that allowed more than their fair share due to overpopulation. That meant Gaster couldn’t add as much Vitamin D into Papyrus’s baby formula as he would like.

Eventually something’s going to go wrong and we’ll end up eating nothing but magic supplements.

Magic food wasn’t particularly healthy, not for Horror Fonts anyway. If there was any problem that breed of skeleton had, it was finding the right balance of magic AND basic nutrients. The magic kept their ectoplasm as strong as human muscle so their bones would stay together, but they needed the same vitamins as humans in order to keep those bones from cracking and splintering in the first place. Normal Fonts like he and Sans weren’t fighters, so it wasn’t as important for their bones to be sturdy, but Papyrus was a hunter, which meant tough fights awaited the baby bones when he got older.

He needs more than magic, and we’ve a limited supply as is. Perhaps though, with these, I can find a supplement for the vitamin itself and a way to reproduce it effectively.

“I trade the rock-peoples for da’ oven.”

“N-”

“And some more baby oil. I’s out of greedy-ants.”

“No. No more using the oven and no more ‘baby ingredients.’ You’re going to destroy this lab along with our kitchen!”

“I dis-gree.”

“bro-”

“You know what I needs? What every baby needs? Ah-structions. I needs a cookie-book. Fetch me a cookie-book, THEN I will succeeds in life.”

Gaster was about to say something, but quickly decided against it. An idea began to form in his mind as he reread the ingredients on the vitamin bottle.

Perhaps this request is a blessing in disguise...

“Papyrus, if I found you a cookbook would you follow the instructions to the letter?” “Course I would!” said the baby bones confidently. “What’s da’ point of ah-structions if I doesn’t follow them? I follow the ah-structions and make good food that Snas will eat.” Papyrus smiled at Napstablook. “You too Boo Boo! I make yummies for eryone!”

The scientist put the bottle in his coat. “Alright then, I will provide for you, a cookbook.”

“YAAAASS!”

“uhh dad, that sounds like a terrible idea,” said Sans, eyeing the ruined oven. “papyrus tends to-”

“Shu up Snas. I happily agwee to yo’ terms, beloved father figure!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Baby will reward your rare act of rationality.”

“Please don’t.”

“I assist! I learned in one of the maggyzines that if you rewards good be-have-ior, peoples will repeat it. This time I find you REAL booger sugar, not baby powder.”

“papyrus-”

“Actually, that would be great. My experiment with the ‘cocaine’ you originally gave me was a complete disaster. Had it worked, I could have created something to reduce hunger in the Underground’s citizens months ago, but you ruined that for everyone. This time I’d like to succeed.”

“ohhh, so that’s what it was for.”

“Of course child, why else would I purchase it? Drugs are for science and science alone!”

“Um…” Napstablook looked behind him nervously.

Should I tell someone about this?

“Remember Papyrus, if you can’t follow a recipe, then you can’t cook that recipe, otherwise it will come out wrong.”

“Kay’.”

Gaster handed a cookbook to his youngest who took it with both hands excitedly and began to flip through it.

“Waz ‘pepper?”

“It’s a type of spice. We don’t have it.”

“What’s ‘vinny-ger?”

“It doesn’t matter, we don’t have that either.”

“i think that’s in urine pa-”

“Really Sans?”

“Ewww, I not using that! Waz ‘rice?”

“It’s a type of grain, we don’t have it in the Underground.”

The baby bones glared at the scientist who was now busy flipping through the pages of his clipboard; the situation beginning to dawn on him.

“We gots onion?”

“No, unfortunately.”

“We gots yeast?”

“*pfft!* i think that’s an infection pappy, are you sure you’re reading that right?”

“I want to see your books Sans.”

“We gots gween beans?”

“Nope, it’s too cold up where they’d need to fall into Mt. Ebott. They need a temperature of at least 50 degrees Fahrenheit to grow.”

“Does we has ANYTHING?”

“If you can’t find a recipe with ingredients we have, perhaps you should search for another cookbook?”

“NYEH!”

Papyrus threw the book.

“…Scu you stink Daddy.”

SHEERRAHH!

Reentering the elevator, Gaster headed up to the main floor. Hopefully he had some refined oil in reserve at the workshop…

“…”

“mm…this may not be a good time bro, but about that cocaine thing. earlier, you called it ‘booger sugar.”

“…”

“you don’t…actually think it’s sugar do you? you didn’t put any in our food?”

“…”

“…pap?”

“Oh noooo…”

Sorry for the wait, I’m renovating my house to move if you recall.

#Fonttale #Fonttale au #Undertale #Undertale au #Undertale fanfiction #Papyrus #Sans #napstablook #Gaster #Baby Papyrus #kid Sans #baby bones

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