#its almost like im making a mockery of the greats | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matenrou-fan · 1 year

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dostuhon stepping on you (sexually). thats its thats- thats the request

im jk dostuhon stepping on you and like….enjoying your reaction from how ur feeling (whores) then just being rough with you -rei boobie anon

Dotsuitare Hompo stepping on their NB! s/o

Rei's boobie, you're always so honry.. God bless your soul for this..

NBreader, teasing, mention of sex and sex activity;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

-Oh, look at him, giggling awkwardly as if he's actually frustrated by your little ask.. Honestly, he really doesn't mind trying.

-Sasara was so goofy, preferring to fool around and be chilly even in relationships with you. Well, at least in the beginning.. After a while he does show you his more sensitive and gentle side in private. So maybe it's time to lure you into more depth of his soul?

-"Oh, so this is what you wished for?" - he giggles, yet you can feel some kind of condescending mockery in this casual tone. - "Of course, my dear.. Just don't get too whiny, okay?"

-You would probably be surprised how confident your lover is, no shame or nervousness as he looks down at you with a small smile. Damn, there's even some kind of real dominating vibe from him that makes YOU the one to be nervous.

-He would start lightly, stepping just a little bit in a playful manner. Testing the waters. And the way Sasara opens his eyes, piercing at your soul with such a haughty gaze.. It teases you more than any words, when for him your gasp and blush is just a signal to continue this game.

-"Is something wrong, my darling?" - your boyfriend coo, pushing more weight and enjoying your whimpers. - "I thought you were offering this as a punishment, but it seems like you really enjoy your role right now.."

-He just knows how to arouse you more with his mockery, tickling you both with his gazes and words. But Sasara really loves how quickly you get so shy and silent, actually behaving towards him.

-It's really interesting, how far you both can push this situation..

-"Maybe you have other deep desires that you want me to do?" - Sasara changed his position and got down on one knee, pushing it in your chest now. His bright gold eyes are so close, almost hypnotic. - "Don't get so shy now, kitten. I want to see what is hiding behind these innocent eyes of yours.."

-There's nothing more charming than your boyfriend with such a low incisive tone, as ordering you to get on bed.. Tonight's gonna be long and rough..

-Poor boy, he has no idea how to react to such an offer. Is this a bad joke or something??

-Probably never did something like that before. Hell, he never thinks about this, actually..! Even friendship with a man like Rei didn't change his kinda naive and pure behavior.

-"O..okay.. I will.. I will step on you, but only once, good?" - Rosho let out a trembling sigh, still really nervous and confused. - "If it would hurt, tell me immediately, okay?"

-If you would take a right moment and ask him about this after a long harsh day at work, teasing him about unbending a little, then.. he wouldn't mind to take such a great opportunity for him to show you a lesson to not tease him.

-For Rosho, sex is more about passion and mutual pleasure than about showing dominance and controlling his partner.. But, again, if you catch him too tired and frustrated he would probably be willing to relieve his stress in such a way.

-Light uncertain step on your chest as your lover still doesn't really understand what he's doing.. Yet you look like you are really enjoying yourself, so maybe he can push a little bit more? Moving his leg a little up and down, shifting the weight of his step on your body, as Rosho carefully watches your face and hears all these little sounds you make.

-"You have such an excited expression for someone who has been stepped on.." - Rosho scoffs, then a slight smirk plays on his lips. - "So tell me, how long have you fantasized about me being rough with you?"

-He would still act like he's doing all of this just at your request, yet he can't help but feel slight movements in his pants. Who would have thought your peaceful, collected boyfriend would actually enjoy that little foreplay too?

-Despite he's always so soft and he treats you so well, Rosho does have a more rough side. He does know how to raise his voice and makes it stronger when he has to talk with some unruly students in class, so why don't he try to be more domineering with you too?

-Especially if you keep squirming like that underneath him, biting your lips with such expressions.. Just when he got a real taste for it now?

-"If you want me to continue, then behave properly, understand?" - this sudden sharp tone and steady gaze makes you whimper, sending chills down your spine. - "Stop squirming and just let me do what you asked for, dear.."

-Now, as he gets a little carried away, he would probably be more playful and teasing in bed too, trying to find more ways to make you embarrassed. Well, but you wished for this, didn't you?

-The best in this, as he always prefers to be dominating not only in bed but in the whole relationship with you and knows many ways to show this..

-So of course he's the one who suggested this thing yet he loves it when you ask or even beg a little about him stepping on you.

-"You wanted to be treated like this so badly?" - low chuckle ring in your ears as Rei leaning down with a dark smug expression in his eyes. - "Okay, I will show you your place.. Now, on your knees.."

-He prefers to show his dominance in a more playful way, as he doesn't feel like he should prove it, it goes without saying.. Yet in such moments your lover would be more harsh, his voice more gruff and lower than usual as he actually ordered you to obey.

-It's more than just a quick little step, as this old man does enjoy this no less than you. The way you kneel down in front of him is such a precious picture..

-Don't even try to turn your head away or look at the floor, Rei will make you look up at his grinning face with the tip of his boot.. Before stepping on your shoulder, pushing it so you would fall down more.. He wants to see your face at this moment.

-Know how to look at you, where and how to step, and with what force, so your chest or stomach wouldn't crash under his weight. And of course he knows what to say.

-"Oh? Birdie, you at least can try to hide how much you enjoy this.." - Rei chuckles, his prolonged eye contact makes your whole body tingle. - "Was that really enough for you to get so excited?"

-Absolutely adore the way you look underneath him, his eyes fixed on your face, enjoying every bit of your emotions. Such a cute little blush mixed with this pathetic gaze.. He wouldn't mind doing this more often, honestly, just for you.

-Especially if you're a bratty one. Would absolutely mock you about being so unruly yet melting like this after one step. Maybe he should implement this as a new way to teach you how to behave?

-"Mm.. I think you amuse me enough with this today.." - his cocky smile gets wider as Rei bites his lip. - "Stand up and get in bed, now. It's time for me to also have some fun.."

-Would be rougher than usual, keeping this pitiless behavior for the whole evening. Just so you wouldn't loosen up too much. Don't forget, this relationship is play with fire, so Rei do need to scorch you like this sometimes..

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rogue-of-light · 2 years

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for me its difficult bc i get into "well why would they be named this way in the warrior cats universe?" like using wisper as an example: Why would his parents name him Whisperkit? was his meow soft and quiet rather than loud and mewly like other kits? was he named Whisperkit because he was born due to a secret relationship, and his mother wanted to reflect that with the name of this kit? (because warrior cat moms really be naming their kids the weirdest fucking things sometimes)?

and then im like "should the suffix have to do with appearance or personality?" and it just keeps going from there </3

almost done with the lineart btw! -KPA

VALID !!!

honestly my thought process with nekane was "Sharp came from his sharp personality, something that was probably present even as a lil kitten" (since, you know, people tend to make jokes and go "aw a feisty lil guy aren't you!" at kittens? yeah that)

Then claw came from his promise as a warrior- because he was good! Genuinely he was great at it, gathered loads of food and never argued

but then the Incident happened, and all the "sharpness" left him, plus "Sharpclaw" started to feel like more and more of a mockery, a reminder of what happened everytime someone called to him

Thus, a nickname of "Dullclaw" was born- which later he requested to become his Actual name

and ooo!!!!

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emetkoto · 2 years

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good day mimi do you have any underrated emetkoto moments or little obscure facts you'd like to share? :3

okok im gonna use this opportunity to try and explain that little moment i was having trouble putting into a post bc it was just so small it wasnt working but like. in my head. i have this idea right.

yknow when you find emet-selch in the capital building in the tempest before the amaurot dungeon? i was thinking about how when they get there k'oto calls out to him but instead of using his little nickname for him (just emet) that hes always used he uses his full title for once and emet selch does a little double take and snaps back like "oh, not on a first name basis anymore are we?" or smth along those lines...its such a little thing but its just one of those things that makes go hHOOH every time ithink about it...k'oto trying to show respect in a desperate attempt to get him to listen to reason and just talk to him and emet selch weaponizing it trying to poke and prod and provoke him so they can fight and get it over with before he has to think about it anymore......weehee and by weehee i mean (SOBS)

The first time he calls him with no intention of banging him too is great emet selch tries to go through the motions as usual but k'oto is like 'hey can we just hang out actually' and emets like '?????? you want me to just stay here and do nothing????' and god he has complaints about it but he does it anyway even though he absolutely does not have to and can leave any time :) its almost like he wants to spend time with him or smth smh...he just chills in the corner whole k'oto does whatever, eating dinner, writing in his journal, polishing his weapons etc etc...the whole time huffing and puffing and occasionally complaining but also slowly inching closer and closer without even realizing it and helping him with things like cleaning up dinner and folding his clothes and such...by the end of the night theyre chilling on the sofa together reading a book and neither of them have even realized whats happened...k'oto falls asleep leaning on emet selch and thats when hes like 'ah shit. what the hell. im enjoying myself too much.' and tucks the catboy in before ditching 🥺

in kind of the same vein the first time k'oto wakes up and emet selch is still there cuddling him makes me feel feral to think about just.....ough at that time emet selch had started staying to cuddle after hours but he was always gone by the time k'oto woke up (or at the very least not in bed with him, possibly chilling at the table fully dressed waiting for him to wake up or smth) so waking up in his arms for the first time was just. magical :,) it was the first time he'd gotten to see him sleeping too upto that point he wasnt convinced that emet selch ever DID sleep outside of his 100+ year naps and it surprised him so much the dumbass was like ?! and woke him up like 'youre still here?????' and emet just kinda pulled him back down and was like 'be quiet and enjoy the peace before your friends show up' and so,,,,he did!! they both did....and from then on they always woke up together :,)

they wedding is extremely underrated only bc every time i try to talk about it i feel like im going to blow up and explode everywhere and die it makes me so happy so ive had. a very hard time making posts about it bc its just. so good. so very very very good someday i swear to christ ill finish that essay answer i owe it just makes me feel SO MUCH you get it. you understand me. as we've established you all comprehend my thoughts and feelings

these are just a bunch of jumbled separate thoughts so i might as well embrace that and keep going with it and go off about their pet names now bc i love them...obviously k'otos nickname for him is just. emet without the selch and at first it kind of annoys him like thats a big important title that was given to him and it seemed like the catboy was making a mockery of him but he kinda grows to like it as he gets to know k'oto bc like...yeah nobody ever called him that in his whole life not even apollo or hyth and it was strangely nice...probably my least in character emet selch thing i write for them but i stand by it :) i have more cringe things i could say about that but anyway. emet selch starts out just calling k'oto Hero (derogatory) ofc but as it goes on he throws in some other stuff like 'my dear' (also derogatory at the time) 'my dear hero' etc etc until they actually. yknow. start being together and then those 'dear's become more affectionate and he throws in some other stuff like 'my sweet' 'beloved' etc etc :,) never his name though...not until he drags him to the tempest to marry him and after that he erases his memories of it and doesnt do it again till ultima thule so </3 men will literally call each other 'love' and still run away at the slightest implication that theyre maybe madly in love. how embarrassing for them

#words of mimi #emetkoto #mimis loveposting corner

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malfoymanortings · 4 years

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my heart is buried in Venice

SUMMARY: she would rather die for love than live for fear. it appears that falling for draco malfoy puts that to the test.

PAIRING: draco x oc

WARNINGS: smut and a bit of descriptive torture (crucio)

hello again! this is angsty. that’s all i will say, so now you’ve been warned. let me know if you enjoy it. its a bit of a longer one! bold/italics symbolize the beginning/ending of a flashback. hopefully it isn’t confusing! also, sorry the summary is shit, im so bad at writing them!

She thinks back to the first time she had seen Draco Malfoy. Not the first time they had met, immature beyond their current years, but the first time she had seen Draco.

The crying was unfamiliar to her, yet it brought stabbing pains to her chest. She hurried into the bathroom, expecting to find a scared first year. They always came to the bathrooms to cry, although they did normally avoid Moaning Myrtle. Still, with the current state of the world, she supposed nothing would be surprising at this point.

“It’s alright,” she stepped in cautiously, peering to see where the crying person was. “No one deserves to cry alone in the bathroom.”

With a thick, shaky sort of breath, the crying tapered off. She turned the corner to see a silver head of hair hunched over the sink, a boy with white sleeves rolled up on his arms. He wasn’t quick enough to yank the sleeves down, and she stopped short when she saw the unmistakable mark of Voldemort on his arm.

“Get out,” Draco Malfoy snarled, turning to half his face was visible to her. “Now.”

“I would hate to leave you alone like this,” she paused, holding her hands out in a sort of I come in peace way. “I may not be your preferred company, but I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

It was almost unnoticeable, but Draco softened. It was clear in the sag of his shoulders, the loosening of his grip on the sink. She held her breath, and walked further into the bathroom.

“Or, I could offer out a distraction,” she leaned against the frame of the stall, her arms crossed on her chest. “I’ve also been known to ramble about nonsense more often than not.”

“And who exactly is it that said that?” Draco turned towards her, and sat on the floor.

She smiled, and promptly sat down on the floor with her back against the frame. “Well, I’m quite good friends with Susan Bones…” and she launched into a tale of the time when she and Susan had successfully distracted Professor Sprout for half a lesson, by asking about the mixing of magical plants with other muggle plants of certain… properties. They had been beyond surprise when Professor Sprout was quite knowledgeable on the subject herself.

To her surprise, Draco had engaged a bit in the discussion, asking questions and humming and hawing here and there to show he had actually been listening. He had subtly wiped his face dry during the conversation, and she had pretended not to notice.

“I’m quite surprised to find you here, you know,” she said gently, after their shared laughter had come to a stop. “I’m sure you have a million other friends in your house that would talk with you, rather than a Hufflepuff.”

“I haven’t got any friends,” he scoffed harshly, his face once again that hard mask he wore in the halls. “None that really give a shit. Certainly none that would-” but he cut himself short, shaking his head and staring at his hands.

“None that would want to know the reason behind having the mark,” she guessed softly, raising her hands when he lifted his head with a snarl on his face. “If it bothered me terribly, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you. I would have already gone to Dumbledore or someone.”

“So why are you here?” his face was twisted again, into the hatred and despair that seemed foreign on his beautiful features. “Waiting for the right opportunity to strike? Waiting for me to spill my secrets, so you can go running off to tell?”

“No,” she shook her head, answering honestly. “I’m here, because someone was crying and needed a friend.”

Draco’s shoulders sagged again, and he rested his head on his knees. The gentle trembling of his shoulders were the only sign that he was crying again.

In a move that was boldly out of her character, she scooted across the floor so she was beside him. The gentle tensing of his body let her know that he noticed her movements. Slowly, and then in one rushing movement, she wrapped her arms around him.

He began to shove her off at first, but then he sagged once more, and rested his head on her shoulder. Again, he cried, and she murmured reassuring words as he did.

A long time had passed before the embrace ended. Draco had stopped crying, and they had been sitting there in silence for a while.

“Would you like to talk about it?” she asked him quietly, when he pulled out of her arms.

He shook his head, his grey eyes looking at hers with a haunted gaze. “I can’t.”

It is those same grey eyes she stares at now. Not entirely grey, they have the most spectacular speckles of blue in them. A brilliant contrast to her honey brown ones.

“Is there any particular reason you enjoy the bathroom?” she asked Draco, setting her bag beside her as she sat on the floor next to him.

“I don’t enjoy the bathroom,” he muttered, his elbows resting on his knees. “It’s a filthy place.”

“So then why, when you disappear, do I always find you in the bathroom, either staring at the mirror or sitting on the floor?” she bumped his shoulder with her own, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Are you keeping tabs on me?” he turned his head to look down at her, his grey eyes dark.

Well, not entirely grey. The longer she stared at them, the most beautiful flecks of blue popped out at her. As she stared -admired, although she wouldn’t admit that to him- the bags underneath paired with his spiderweb veins of tender yellow and blue haunted her.

“Perhaps,” she paused, her lips parting for a moment. “Does that bother you?”

“It should,” he surprised her with the raw honesty in his voice. He was normally much more reserved. “But it doesn’t. I like the thought of you thinking of me.”

“Well, I think of you quite often,” she admitted, a bit breathless at the admission. “When you weren’t at dinner, I knew where to find you.”

“The bathroom,” Draco scoffed, turning away to hide the redness spreading across his cheeks. She smiled gently, as she didn’t miss it. She noticed just about everything he did. “Who would have ever thought a Malfoy would declare the bathroom as their safe space.”

“Put a few pictures up, might make it a bit more homey,” she suggested, resting her head on his shoulder. “Although I would make sure they’re all modest, don’t want Myrtle to take any for her personal use.”

“Oh, come on now,” he gave a rare smile, reminiscent of the smirk he used to wear all the time. “Myrtle isn’t that bad.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Wow, Draco, first the bathroom, now Myrtle? Clearly you’ve strayed from your noble path.”

Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say. The reaction from Draco was immediate, his mouth snapped shut with an audible snap, his jaw clenched, and his body went stiff. She lifted her head off his shoulder, apologies on her face, but he began speaking with an angry rush that startled her.

“I don’t think there’s anything noble left in me,” his hands were shaking now. “My life has become such a mockery of what I thought it would be, and there’s absolutely no way out. I don’t know what I’m going to do, and I need to figure it out now before he- before he kills me.”

Time seemed to freeze after he spoke. He had never even hinted before, at anything like that. They danced around the subject of his dark mark, neither wanting to bring it up. But now, for Draco to so openly admit that he was being forced to do something, more than likely pertaining to Voldemort, well. It was a breakthrough in their relationship.

“You can tell me anything, Draco,” her voice was barely above a whisper, and yet, it sounded through the empty bathroom like a siren. “Please, don’t feel like you need to bottle this up.”

Tears leaked out of Draco’s eyes, and she tentatively wrapped her arms around him. This time, he held her back even tighter, and shifted so that she was in between his legs. He cradled the back of her head gently, pressing her to his chest, and he rested his head on top of hers. Her heart began racing, and his did the same. She knew this because his heartbeat was echoing in her ear from being pressed against his chest.

“I have to fix the vanishing cabinet in the room of requirement,” he said the words quickly, in a rush. “To get the death eaters in the school. He.. he wants me to kill Dumbledore.”

“Oh, Draco,” her breath was shaky, and she closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

The bathroom seemed deathly silent after that. Time seemed to stretch infinitely, until Draco shattered it once more.

“I’ve thought of jumping off the astronomy tower,” he breathed out, so lightly she almost didn’t hear. “Ending it all. But I’m too much of a coward to go through with it.”

“No,” she said quickly, pulling back slightly so she could look at his eyes. “You can’t do that I can’t- I don’t want to lose you.”

The quick admission slipped from her lips before she could stop it, and she wanted to swallow her words as fast as she said them. Draco shut his eyes, his cheeks glistening from the tears that had fallen. His jaw was clenched, a sure sign that he was upset.

“You can’t have me,” Draco’s voice was firm. “I’m not good for you. You’ll only get hurt, if they know I care for you.”

“You care for me?” that seemed to be the only thing her mind would let her latch onto, and she marveled at the fact.

“You could be killed.” his voice was less firm now, and he opened his eyes, grey staring into brown.

“I could be killed regardless,” she pointed out, nearly breathless. “There’s a war going on, Draco. I could die tomorrow, I could leave for holiday or summer break, and be killed. I don’t want to exist in fear. I want to live what little time I may have left in love.”

The words seemed to hang between them, the air heavy. Draco’s eyes shut briefly, and his arms tightened around her before he opened them again. As his head bent towards her, she closed the gap, placing her hands on his cheeks. He flinched at the touch, but melted into her as their lips progressed together.

Her eyes flick down to his lips now, the feeling of them so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. Liquid trickles down her forehead, towards her cheek, but she doesn’t move a hand to brush it away.

“Don’t you dare fucking hurt her!” Draco shouted at Harry Potter, flashing a streak of purple towards the Gryffindor. He pushed her out of the way, and she skidded to the floor.

Harry fired another spell at Draco, exploding the toilet next to her. The porcelain rained down on her, and she raised her arms protectively as the shards cut her skin. Draco shot another spell at Harry, and the bin behind him exploded.

She rose to her feet, nearly slipping on the water, trying to get her wand from her discarded robes on the floor behind Draco. Just as she had it in her hands, she turned, only to get hit with a leg locker curse from Harry. She fell, unable to brace herself, and knocked the side of her head on the sink, hot liquid spilling down her face as her head exploded in pain.

Draco turned to see her, and his face contorted in rage as he turned back to Harry. He cried, “Cruci-”

“SECTUMSEMPRA!” bellowed Harry, cutting off Draco’s unforgivable curse, waving his wand wildly.

She watched in horror through blurry vision as blood spurted from Draco’s face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backward and collapsed on to the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand.

“No,” she choked out, the leg locker curse wearing off. “No, no, no!”

Her head spinning wildly, she looked down horrified as Draco’s white hands scrabbled at his blood soaked chest. She was vaguely aware of Harry falling to his knees next to Draco, and without a second thought, she wound her fist back and punched him with as much strength as she could muster.

“Fix him,” she screamed at Harry, who had a hand pressed to his nose. “Whatever you did, fix him now!”

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

Moaning Myrtle had appeared out of the toilets, and she was now floating around the bathroom wildly.

The door banged open, and Professor Snape burst into the room. She realized it was the only time she was happy to see the hook nosed man. He pushed Harry roughly aside, and drew his wand over the deep wounds Harry’s curse had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like song. The flow of blood eased, Snape wiped the residue from Draco’s face and repeated his spell. Now, the wounds seemed to be knitting.

She had his hand in her own, reaching up ever so often to wipe away the blood that kept coming from her head wound. When Snape had performed the counter curse for the third time, he half-lifted Malfoy into a standing position.

She stood up quickly, hearing Snape mutter to Draco. She steadied herself against the headrush she got from standing, a fresh wave of pain rolled through her head.

“Miss Cherrywood, are you able to accompany Draco to the nurse?” Snape eyed her, his face unreadable.

“Of course,” she quickly took Draco in her arms, steadying herself against the added weight. “What do I tell Madam Pomfrey?”

His gaze didn’t miss the way she looked at him, or he her. “Tell her exactly what happened. I am going to deal with Potter.”

She nodded, and hurried out of the bathroom as fast as she could. Draco was pale, much paler than she had ever seen him, which was saying something. He normally looked as white as their sheets.

They made it to Madam Pomfrey, who immediately took Draco into her care. As she watched Madam Pomfrey, she told her exactly what happened. Harry had started it, for no good reason. She left out the part about Draco nearly using an unforgivable, and as she finished recounting the story, she fell over from the sudden wave that went through her head.

Nothing got passed Madam Pomfrey. She was instructed to sit on the bed next to Draco, and once Madam Pomfrey was satisfied with her work on the silver haired boy, she fixed up her would and gave her a potion for the concussion she surely endured.

“You alright, Birdie?” Draco’s eyes were shut, and his voice was weak as he spoke.

“Don’t worry about me,” she slid off the bed, ignoring the instruction Pomfrey had given her before she left. “How are you?”

When her hand held his, he opened his eyes. He was so pale. She brushed his silver strands off his forehead gently, careful of the bottom half of his face that had been hit with that nasty curse.

“I feel as though I should be dead,” Draco paused, his voice low. “For whatever reason, that thought now scares me.”

“What do you mean, love?” the pet name slipped out of her mouth, and she hoped he didn’t mind. She brushed a thumb over his hand, relishing in the soft skin.

“I mean,” he turned to look at her, his face open and earnest. It reminded her of the day he had told her everything. That seemed so long ago now. “I was scared I was going to die without ever telling you how I felt.”

Silence laid over them like a blanket. She stared at him, lips parted, not knowing what to say.

“Birdie, I love you,” Draco broke the silence, shutting his eyes once more. “I shouldn’t. But I do. What happened today with Potter is just a fraction, a mere glimpse, of what would happen to you if he knew my feelings for you.”

“I don’t care, Draco,” the words flew from her mouth, a smile gracing her lips. “I don’t care. I love you. I am in love with you. I would always choose to live in love instead of fear.”

Draco opened his eyes again, and reached a weak arm up to press his lips to hers. Their eyes shut as their lips moved in sync as they had done many times before.

“I meant what I said,” she says the words quietly, looking into those familiar grey eyes. “I will always choose to live in love rather than fear.”

Laughter is heard around them, and she swallows her fear down hard. She vows to be true to her words, no matter the cost.

“Tomorrow,” Draco says quietly, turning to look at her. “It happens tomorrow.”

She let out a shaky breath, turning away from his gaze to the night sky. She had known this was happening, since he told her he fixed the damn cabinet. There was nothing to do. She couldn’t stop it. She wouldn’t help him. She would be fighting against him, come tomorrow night.

“I love you.” the words fall from her lips in a shaky voice, tears slipping down her face.

“Darling,” Draco took her in his arms, cradling her head to his chest. She was reminded of their first hug when he did the same. “I love you more than I had ever thought possible.”

They kissed again, this time a different passion behind it. They both knew this was a goodbye, maybe forever. He would leave with the Death Eaters tomorrow, after he killed Dumbledore. He would have blood on his hands and would formally join the enemy.

Their lips clashed and moved together, tongue touching teeth and lips touching skin. They grabbed at each other, daring to find where the other began and the other stopped. Gentle hands, harsh lips. It was a fight for love that wouldn’t matter in the end.

Draco laid her down on the cushy blanket they had been sitting on before, and paused. “Are you sure you want this, Birdie?”

“I want you, Draco,” she stared up at him, trying her best to memorize his every feature. He was so angelic. How could he be put up to the task he was given? “Only you, Draco.”

He pressed kisses to her neck, deftly unbuttoning her blouse. It slid off her shoulders, and he unhooked her bra next. For a moment, he stopped, staring at her exposed breasts for the first time.

“So beautiful darling,” he murmured, pressing kisses to her skin. “All for me.”

“Always for you.” she moaned back, as he nipped and sucked at her soft breasts.

His lips felt like fire against her skin, as he took a nipple in his mouth while his hand played with the other. She arched her back, wanting to be as close as possible to him. After a moment, she helped him slide his shirt off so she could touch his bare skin. Her nails dragged down his back as he sucked on her breasts, massaging the other with his hand.

He began pressing kisses to her neck, while his hands slid her skirt and panties off her hips, leaving her bare underneath him. He did the same to his pants, leaving his boxers on. He glanced up at her once more, and when she nodded, pressed his lips to hers and cupped her heat.

He ran a finger up her slit, kissing her neck once more as she moaned at his touch. She gripped his shoulders as he began pushing one finger in and out, before adding another one. She moaned softly as Draco sucked on her neck, his fingers sliding in and out of her. He began to rub small circles on her clit with his thumb, and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Draco,” she moaned out, pleasure coursing through her body as he kissed her breasts again.

“That’s it, darling,” he replied, pressing his lips to her once more before trailing back down to her neck. “Say my name.”

He pumped in and out of her faster, and she cursed as she said his name. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, and he hissed at the pain. He rubbed her clit faster, and she felt pressure building in her stomach. She moaned his name again, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“You’re so beautiful darling,” he praised her. “All hot and wet for me. Only for me.”

He picked up the speed of his fingers pumping in and out, and she could feel herself becoming close to coming.

“Draco, I’m gonna-” a moan from her throat cut her off.

“Yes Birdie, come on fingers,” he coaxed, his thumb again rubbing fast against her clit. “I want to taste you, love. Come all over my fingers.”

Moaning, her head tossed back, she came all over his fingers, grinding her hips onto them as she rode out her high. She caught her breath, and looked back at Draco, who placed his fingers in his mouth, sucking her juices off them.

“So sweet, darling,” he told her, his gaze heavy. “I didn’t expect anything else.”

He kissed her parted lips, and she tangled her fingers in his hair. She could feel his bulge pressing against her core, separated only by the thin fabric of his boxers, and she pulled away from him.

“Draco,” she gazed at him with lidded eyes. “I want you to make love to me.”

“Anything for you, darling.” Draco complied, slipping his boxers off and swishing his wand towards her stomach. She felt a slight tingle, and realized it was the contraceptive spell.

She glanced down at his hard cock, and swallowed hard as she realized how big it was. She watched as he lined himself up to her entrance, biting her lip.

His lips captured hers once more, before he pulled away to look at her for her consent once more. She nodded, and he pushed into her wet heat, groaning at how tight she was. She sucked in a harsh breath, her eyes watering. It was her first time, and the pressure was a lot to handle.

Draco noticed, and he pressed kisses to her neck, her cheek, her lips, as he let her adjust to his size. “Darling, you feel incredible. So fucking tight.”

“Can you..” she bit her lip once more, subconsciously grinding her hips against him.

He groaned at the feeling, and began slowly moving in and out of her. It hurt at first, but she slowly got used to the feeling, and pleasure began to take over. The feeling of him pushing in and out made her toes curl, and she moaned as he began to pick up the pace.

“You’re so wet for me,” Draco groaned, interlacing their fingers. “Feel so good, Birdie.”

“Draco,” she moaned, the sound of her name on his lips bringing pleasure to her. “Fuck, this feels so good.”

He brought one hand down to push her legs further apart, the motion making him hit deeper inside of her, effectively hitting her g-spot. His name fell from her lips in a string of moans, and he began to stroke into her faster.

“You’re such a good girl,” he groaned into her ear, pressing sloppy kisses to her neck. “Good little Hufflepuff getting fucked by a Slytherin.”

Her lips were parted, and her eyes were screwed shut as he thrusted into her, her breasts bouncing from the force he fucked her with. She again let out a string of moans, his name falling with every other word. His thrusts began to get more sloppy, and his hand reached down to rub circles onto her clit as he thrusted in and out. She began to feel the pressure building up again, and her body writhed underneath him as the pleasure took over her. He groaned, and with a few more thrusts, she felt him shudder, and a sudden wetness filled her cunt. Euphoria washed over her as he did this, and she realized she had come for the second time that night.

For a moment, Draco stayed inside of her, leaning down to press kisses to her neck once more before pulling out of her. He laid next to her on the blanket, and pulled her into his embrace.

“I love you,” he pressed his lips to her temple, his hand stroking her hair.

She looked up at him, their bare skin pressed to each other. “I love you too.”

The hopelessness of the situation hits her. There was nowhere to turn. They knew all about them now, but as she lets their memories wash over her for the final time, she smiles. She wouldn’t change a thing.

“Birdie, it isn’t safe for us to be together,” Draco murmured into her hair, his arms wrapped tightly around her. “They’ll hurt you.”

“I don’t care, Draco,” she looked up at him and smiled. “What more can they do to me? The Carrows Crucio me nearly once a week.”

“Because you can’t just let things be,” he responds angrily, moving away from her in frustration, his fingers gripping the railing for the astronomy tower. “You have to involve yourself.”

“I’m not going to let them use unforgivable curses on first years!” she yelled back, her voice echoing in the empty tower.

That paused both of them. She never yelled at him. He wasn’t even sure she could yell.

“Draco, I love you,” she began again, taking his hands in her own. “I love you so much. You have to understand that I can’t just let them tortue kids. If I have a chance to stand up to the Carrows, I will do that.”

“I know,” his shoulders sagged in defeat, and he sat down on the floor, his back against the railing. “I just wish you weren’t so stubborn. I wish I could protect you better.”

“If you did that, they would know about us,” she sat next to him, placing her head on their shoulder. “It would be so much worse for us.”

Draco nodded. They sat in silence for a while, her head on his shoulder, his fingers playing with her hair. Hogwarts was much different this year. Snape and the Carrows had taken over Hogwarts. The remaining members of the DA were still fighting against them, for what they believed in. Hoping each day Harry would come back, and everything would be okay again.

Neville and Ginny had taken over the DA. She helped out a lot more than she had expected she would. She felt that, maybe, part of her was guilty because she was deeply in love with Draco, and he played a part in the downfall of the school.

But he had no choice. He was the boy who had no choice. And she knew that.

No one knew about them. The only person who probably did, was Harry Potter. And at this point, if he ever were to think of her or Draco, he probably thought she wouldn’t still be with him. But it didn’t matter. Harry had much bigger things to worry about then who Draco Malfoy fancied.

“I want a nice little cabin in the woods,” Draco traced circles on her arm, his voice low. “Away from everyone. Away from everything. I want to grow our own garden. My mum always loved gardening. She has the most beautiful flower gardens, you would absolutely love it…” his voice trailed off, no doubt thinking of before. Before things got messy. Before life went south.

“What does the cabin look like, love?” she asked, tilting her head up to look at his angelic face. He smiles, placing a quick kiss to her forehead.

“It’s small, very modest,” he continued, looking at her face. “There’s a giant couch, soft as a cloud. Tons of blankets throughout, for when you complain it’s too cold even when it’s a beautiful summer day,” he pokes at her side, making her giggle. “A nice window with a desk in front of it. I’ll sit at the desk every day, and write. Bad, good, all of it. I’ll publish my own book, one day, about all the bullshit we’ve gone through.”

“The autobiography of Draco Malfoy.” she smiled, leaning further into him.

“Exactly,” Draco laughed, although there isn’t much humor. “My mother is the only one allowed over. She’ll want to help with the garden, but I’m not going to let her. I’ll be the one to do it. Hell, maybe I’ll even do it without magic. We’ll be hidden away in the trees, unable for anyone to find. There’ll be two bedrooms, one for us, of course, the largest one, and the other for…”

“For what, Draco?” she nudged him, wondering why he had trailed off.

Draco looked down at her, his hand grasping her chin. “For our children. Two, at least. No only child bullshit. I never want our children to be lonely.”

“You want kids with me?” she marveled at the fact, unaware that Draco would ever want kids, much less with her.

“Birdie,” he breathed, the smell of peppermint hitting her nostrils. “I want an entire lifetime with you.”

“Do it now, Draco!” Bellatrix shouts from behind her, her heels clacking as she strides forward.

She feels the woman dig her nails into her neck, and she can’t stop the whimper of fear that escapes from her lips. Her eyes plead with Draco, honey brown meets grey blue. He’s a mess, his eyes wild with despair, his arm shaking as he holds his wand up to her.

“Birdie..” her name falls from his lips, and she cries as she hears the goodbye in it.

“Please, Draco,” she pleads, and she’s unsure why. She wanted to die bravely, not groveling at someone's feet. “I want a lifetime with you.”

“Filthy scum,” Bellatrix snaps, forcing her to her knees. “Do it, Draco.”

His hand is unsteady. His wand is shaking.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix shouts, her wand digging into her neck.

Her every nerve ending is on fire. She screams and she screams, her voice harsh. The words carved into her skin hadn't hurt this bad. Her head being slammed into the ground repeatedly hadn’t hurt this bad. She feels like every bone in her body is being broken, just heal and break once more. It’s like she’s been dipped into a vat of acid, and her skin is peeling off.

She wishes for death.

The pain stops, but her skin twitches as her muscles remember the pain. She’s laying on the ground, moaning as tears slide down her cheeks. Her throat hurts so bad, and she wishes she could stop crying, but she can’t.

“Stand up, you pathetic bitch!” Bellatrix hoists her to her feet, again holding her by the back of her clothes. “Now, Draco!”

She blinks fast, clearing her vision to look at Draco. He looks so thin, so pale. The dark circles are back. Spiderweb veins of tender yellow blue are visible on his face. Yes he’s still so breathtakingly handsome as he once again holds his wand to her.

“Always for you,” the words slip out of her lips as she stares at the man she loves. “Only ever for you.”

“Shut up!” Bellatrix slaps her, and the pain barely registers from the amount she’s already been through. “I’m not asking you again, Draco.”

“Let her stand on her own,” Draco demands, his voice cracking. “I won’t kill her while you hold her.”

Bellatrix steps away then, a cackling laugh coming from her lips. Without the support of the wicked woman, she sways and nearly falls, but catches her balance just in time.

“I would rather die in love, than live in fear,” she says softly, under her breath, the words coming out funny as her jaw is still twitching from the cruciatus curse. “For you, I would die a thousand times over.”

She shuts her eyes then. She knows what’s coming. In some way, she always knew this was where they would end up. Perhaps not with him holding the wand to kill her, but with her dying because she wasn’t afraid to love him.

“Birdie,” Draco says in the voice that’s meant only for her, and she smiles, happy to hear it one more time. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

“Avada Kedavra!”

There is a flash of green.

#draco malfoy #draco imagine #draco x oc #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy smut #draco #malfoy #death eaters #death eater #death eater draco #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco fucking malfoy #Harry Potter #harry potter series #harry potter smut #voldemort #hogwarts

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mojwisungie · 4 years

Text

imgn | Restart (enemy to lover! jisung)

req (from: anon) ➥ : hi, i really like your writings and! if its ok, can i request a jisung x reader enemies to lovers headcannon? jisung is always teasing and trying to beat the reader at everything and one day he was teasing her and she had enough of it that shouted at him and cried infront of alot of students, and this shocks everybody since the reader is always calm and soft spoken:( the ending can be up to you!💚

☄︎ with: park jisung ☄︎ lou.note: omg. i did not intend to write so much for this like idk i got carried away and i think its too long 😶 added the bonus part for context lol enjoy !!

your life is pretty sweet

honestly, you dont think of changing any aspect of it

youre good in school too

you have decent grades, great friends

but there is one thing that bothers you often

actually, one person

and its park jisung

and its not that you arent nice or something, bc everyone practically treats you as a friend actually

and you dont hate him, bc thats such a strong word

but you dont exactly like him either

he pushes all your buttons

and usually you’d laugh it off

youre used to joking around with people and youre not that sensitive

but jisung... man does that boy have the a u d a c i t y

you havent talked to him even once before he teased you for having a lower grade than him

so when he did that, you only smiled since it really wasnt that much of an insult to you

but then it got more frequent

he would often poke at you for doing the most basic things

you get a score a point lower than his again? you’ll hear his snarky remark about it the second he knows about it

you got elected as an officer in the class? of course he’ll say youre such a darling

you dropped a pen? there will be a quiet under-the-breath “clumsy” as soon as you pick it up

he also has this weird habit of scoffing whenever you outdo him

bc he scoffed when you perfected that presentation in dance class AND when you also got a higher grade than him on another

all these mockery is always rewarded by only an eye roll for you

since causing a scene isnt like you so you often

and somehow in some way, you hope he’ll back off

but one particular day, you were really having not such a good time

you were almost late bc you almost forgot your due project

which caused you to walk back to your house and also caused you to miss the bus so you had to walk

the moment you enter the class, jisung’s eyes is already on you

you actually prayed for him to shut it bc you’d usually hear something from him the moment you step in the class

you thought you were safe

but when you sat on your seat, he said, “you look worse today y/n, and thats not nice bc you look awful everyday, dont you thi-”

you startle him as you loudly tell him to shut up

followed with “i dont know what ive done for you to make fun of me everyday, cant you just leave me alone?!”

you didnt know you were crying until one tear fell on your cheek

some of your friends tried to help calm you down immediately and ask if you were okay, while some tried to confront jisung if he has any problem with you

he couldnt answer them he’s so shocked to see you cry

before he could apologize, your teacher enters the class prompting you to wipe the tears away and tell your friends that youre fine

from the way that you look, everyone knows you arent but lets you be as the class starts

the day goes by surprisingly well for you after that

what you didnt know was everyone was trying to not let jisung get close to you bc he might make you cry again

but jisung feels so guilty :( he wants to say sorry before this day ends

or else it might be too late for him to tell you the truth

so at dismissal, he waits for you by the gates bc he knows you stay in the library for a few before going home

on your way out, he tries to stop you and says

“hi y/n, uhm, i-im sorry for today, i didnt know you were going to cry.. actually i didnt know i was going too far with the teasi-”

you cut him off saying “oh uhm, its fine. dont worry about it. i know you dont like me so-”

“what? no, its not that i dont like you! i actually- uh- i mean-”

you dont really know whats he’s pointing so you wait for him to find the right words to tell you

a few more seconds pass and he goes

“i dont dont like you... i actually like you. its just someone told me that maybe if i tease you, we’d grow close and it was partially true because you'd only notice me when i do so.”

he continues with “i know it’s too much for me to ask since ive hurt you, and im really sorry for doing that but i hope you could give me a chance. i hope we could...restart?”

seeing the incomprehensible look (for jisung) on your face, he stutters with saying how its totally fine if you dont want to and he’d be okay to distance himself from you

but you answer him with

“sure. i’d love to restart with you.”

and from then on, it would only be love from him to you

bonus:

you know who actually told jisung to tease his crush?

chenle. he’s his bestfriend who told him to do it so he’ll have a chance with you

the moment he heads home, he doesnt go to his house, he goes marching to chenle’s

he greets his friend with a punch on the arm

chenle shouts in pain and asks “what the hell is that for?!”

so jisung answers him “your dumb plan made them cry! and i had to say sorry and tell them how i really feel about them all in one day”

and chenle bites back with “you mean my smart idea made you confess and have a chance with her? youre welcome”

they talk about what happened for a while until jisung asks him if knows what good gift he should give you

so expect to receive a cute (and kinda expensive) necklace the next day lol

also expect for more adorable gifts and heart-melting moments as you and jisung get together for the years that’ll come

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mirrorforevers · 4 years

Text

graham/reader • and i love him

hmmmmmm so

i wrote a lil smutty n angsty gra/fem!reader fic set in the late 90s and im kinda proud of it ‼️

👉🏼 👈🏼

this is my first work for the blur fandom and im Nervous bc i haven’t been writing for a while and english is not my first language but hope u guys enjoy it anyway - if you enjoy it enough i’ll post it on ao3 too, aight? also this hasn’t been beta’ed by anyone so yeah. also feel free to send me a message if u want to beta it in case you wanna see it there. aaaaaaaaa

tw: alcoholism

You haven't been sleeping very well these days.

Any noise, no matter how insignificant, would wake you up. When there weren't noises, there were nightmares that you were losing him - those were the worst nights. Many times you woke up crying because everything was so real, and you couldn't have peace even in your moment of rest.

Sometimes it was difficult to love him.

The memories of the long lazy days you spent watching TV, painting each other's backs and tasting all sorts of bizarre treats he brought from the different countries he travelled to with his band were gradually replaced by memories of corrosive words exchanged between the two of you and moments where either you or he ended up crying in each other's arms - out of shame, out of despair, out of frustration. But that didn't mean that you were loving him any less, just that your individual tribulations sometimes got too heavy even to share.

You knew he was going through a very difficult time, but he didn't open up to you very much about it and it frustrated you on a level that you could barely describe. Being in a serious relationship was something so new to you, and it helped you so much in your bad times, and you just couldn't understand why he didn't trust you like you trusted him. "It's not that I don't trust you, you're the most important person in the world to me," he'd typically say. "It's such a terrible feeling, and I just want it to go away. I don't even like to talk about it."

This is the same thing he says to you with teary eyes as the hot water in the shower wets your skin and his. For the third time that week, you had to help him, without even having the opportunity to take your own clothes off, to take off his clothes that smelled unbearably of alcohol and sweat and to take a shower. You no longer had the strength to argue or lecture him, and your silence of resignation somehow seemed to hurt him even more. He tried to bring up other subjects and remind you of good things, and your throat seemed to close more and more. Before your eyes could also fill with tears, you just left a small, shaky "Gra, please... let's just get this over with." escape from your lips. He got the message, maybe. And he agreed to have his hair washed in silence.

After you help him dry off and choose clean underwear, sleep got the best of him and then it was your turn to take a shower and try to sleep. You swore he was asleep a long time ago, when, just before you fell asleep, you heard an almost whispered, fragile "I love you" coming from the other side of the bed. It somehow hurt you more than it should - it's been so long since you've wanted to hear it from the man you truly know - a sober Graham, a little unsure of himself but a guy with such a full and gentle heart. You knew that his problem with drinking was not just the search for overcoming that insecurity, but a constant attempt to escape from the reality that, years before, he thought he wanted to be part of. And as for that, there was not much for you to do. But you still missed it so much in another context, in what now seems to be an eternity ago.

By some miracle, you did not wake up in the middle of the night due to some noise caused by Graham or due to some nightmare, but only in the morning thanks to the sunlight illuminating your face. But Graham was no longer on your side, and you closed your eyes, sighing. Another long day without him among thousands of rehearsals and concerts and meetings and photoshoots he had to attend, which anticipated yet another long night of ill-resolved fights.

"I'm terribly sorry for fucking up again." And then you opened your eyes. There he was, now with a shirt over the underwear you chose for him, his voice as low as ever. Without his glasses.

Finally, the Graham you knew. Your eyes light up and you move to get up from the comfortable bed you shared when he interrupts you. "No, stay right there."

"I've been missing you." You say with an almost whiny voice, a faint but genuine smile taking over your expressions. "Don't you have *anything* to do today?" You ask, as he pulls out a camera to photograph you in your current position - messy hair, while wearing only his t-shirt. You don't hide from the clicks. After being satisfied with the result, he positions himself between your legs, and you spend a few minutes in silence in that position, face to face, just reading each other's expressions so closely.

It was very difficult not to love the beautiful boy in front of you.

"I do." And with that, he places a very soft and loving kiss on your lips, which slowly incorporates the latent desire burning on both of you. It's so good not to taste the alcohol, just the mouthwash with the touch of a cigarette that he just smoked. He only stops after a few more long pecks, calmly brushing away some of the strands of hair off your face, "I'm sorry for being such a cunt. Things are being very difficult for me lately."

You look away from him so you don't cry. This subject really breaks your heart. "Things are very difficult for me too."

He calmly brings your face up to look at him again. "They don't have to be. I don't want to make you go through this. I swear I will try to get help."

This is not the first time he has said this. But you pretend to believe him. And this time, you start the kiss, a little more fervently than before. Perhaps this is a silent agreement between you two. You feel something slowly grow beneath you, and you move against the feeling, making you both gasp softly in the middle of the kiss. The lips part, and then he looks into your eyes deeply again, both foreheads touching - as he silently asks you for permission to make it up to you. You just nod between heavy shared breaths. He goes to kiss you intensely, albeit very lovingly, while slowly lowering his hand to your clit, where he begins a slow circular movement. You close your eyes, and he pleads, quietly – “Keep looking at me, love”.

Gradually, you start to grind harder against his talented fingers, and when he realizes that your body is prepared enough (and quickly expresses it to you - "fuck, you really missed me", making your cheeks burn), he inserts two fingers into you, while insisting on the circular movements that delighted you so much. You're having goosebumps and you slowly feel that delicious wave of heat build up in you as he continues with his movements. You surprise him by kissing his neck slowly between timid but sincere moans that gradually escape from you. His voice trembles with arousal. "This is all about you, love. But that's quite nice." When he feels your body stiffen, and hears your moans become more urgent, he stops his movements and gives you a kiss on the cheek that borders on mockery, giving a small laugh with your grunt of protest. He mutters a small "Be patient baby, please. Come on my mouth instead.". Graham's hoarse voice in your ear almost kills you. He raises the hand that was stimulating you in an absurd way seconds before to lift and remove your shirt, basking in the sight of your breasts - hands sliding down your sides, he lifts your chest to his mouth, which makes you happy but it does not meet 100% of your needs. He knows that. And he wants to take his sweet time while his talented tongue takes turns between each of your breasts for a while, eliciting smaller moans from you but still giving you so much pleasure.

Honestly, what a view. His big brown eyes, when not closed due to his determination and focus on making you feel good, sometimes fixes on yours and the cloud of attraction between you two almost becomes tangible. Then, he quickly lifts up to give your mouth a sensuous kiss while his hand then makes its way down your body, taking a detour at your already sensible breasts to grab one and give it a slow squeeze. "You're so fucking beautiful. I love you." His pure adoration for you drips from his voice, and you feel like you're about to burst from how much in love and horny you are.

"I love you too."

He gives you that goddamn smile that melts you every time before he lowers himself again, this time placing his head between your thighs while snaking his arms above them, trapping you in what is about to be a hell of a great time. He begins on an exploratory pace, then gradually starts eating you out with passion, though not forgetting to be gentle enough so he doesn't hurt you or seems inexperienced. That he *really* isn't.

He moans deliciously on your clit the moment your grip on his hair tightens - he loves it when you're rougher with him, a sub at heart, really, though he's undoubtedly getting better at dealing with your more submissive side lately. Your body is reacting in the prettiest ways, and he recognizes it's the time for his fingers to be inside of you again. You have to contain yourself not to wake up your neighbors with the sound of your excitement, and you bite your finger. You can't help but buck your hips in response to the stimulation. “Gra–God. I--I need to--”

“Keep still, darling. I know what you need,” His eyes are gleaming with mischief when one of his hands moves to rest on your waist so he can hold you in place. It's too much, and when he hears your quiet pleas and sees your back arching and the frozen expression of pure pleasure in your face, he intensifies his movements and you freeze - your legs twitch and he lets you ride your orgasm freely on his gorgeous, hungry mouth.

You looked down to see his chin was resting on your stomach as he gazed up at you with *that* infatuated look that suited him so well along with the cheekiest smile - he keeps his thoughts to himself before his suggestion makes your satisfied smile grow even wider: "Let's spend the day together. I still feel like I owe a lot to you.".

#graham coxon #alex james #damon albarn #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #graham coxon x reader #graham x reader #y/n #angst

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purgatoryandme · 4 years

Note

Hey! I can't seem to find the post you made with all the books references in Illuminate Me and the reason behind it? Is it deleted?

I know that there is an incomplete one floating around in my reply tag, and it should be in the Illuminate Me tag, but tumblr’s search features are so bad that I went back to the original word doc of the complete list, so prepare for that particular storm lol. Quoted/Referenced Reading List (In Order of Appearance) Shakespeare: Macbeth I opened on a Macbeth quote (‘When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lighting, or in rain’) because I wanted to start with something immediately relatable. Most readers were introduced to more ‘dramatic’ plays through Macbeth. Beyond that, they were introduced to the concept of pathetic fallacy, which I think plays nicely with Tony as a character (a man who is CONSTANTLY imparting emotion onto inanimate objects…and then actually giving them their own emotions) and with one of the core problems in IM, which is deciding the emotions of others for them. I was hoping to get the ‘feel’ of that without having to lean too far into the actual concept.

Bonus: I picked this quote in particular because of the importance of threes in Tony’s life (his core group of friends, iterations of the reactor, number of times reborn, his bot children VS his AI children, the number of lovers or almost lovers he has in the fic, etc). Milton: Paradise Lost ‘What is dark within me, illuminate!’ is a modernization of the original Milton quote ‘what is dark within me, illumine’ for readability. I actually feel a bit bad about changing this considering how many people think this is the original quote now. This wound up being a central (and title) quote somewhat by accident. I’m fond of it because of how much I liked a different one that I had originally wanted for Tony’s thoughts of the reactor: ‘yet from those flames, no light, but rather darkness visible’. I had originally wanted to start off on a sadder note, one that showed how much Tony hated losing his humanity, and so the flames of Hell and their physics-bending concept seemed thematically appropriate. I had always intended to eventually invert the imagery – instead of Extremis being (to Tony) flames capable of extinguishing light, the reactor would become a water-like blue light that couldn’t be choked or recreated by any of the shadows that pursued Tony in his life. I picked Milton SPECIFICALLY for the imagery of light and shadows.

But, man, listen. Darkness visible is a great concept, but it’s also tired. It has, as you’ve noted, been discussed to death. So as I was reading ‘Milton’s darkness visible and Aeneid 7’ to refamiliarize myself with some of the broader themes attached to that particular piece of imagery, I wound up thinking about how to invert the darkness itself instead of the overall concept. The flames of Hell extinguish light instead of having to exist away from it. It is a bad that cannot be penetrated by good.

Instead of chasing away shadows, which would be implied by shining a light ON them, the request Tony makes here is to actually invert the darkness - to have it illuminate in and of itself. It’s becoming something better instead of being removed or forgotten. On the flip side of that, the darkness within isn’t growing as light weakens, but rather under its own force. Two forces equal in nature and origin in a person. It’s a different take on lighting than the one most critics hammer home. Long ramble is long, but this was the basis for using that quote. It grew from there to have many different meanings, however the core has always remained. All in all I’m pleased with it.

EM Forster: A Room with a View Very forgiving even in its satirical takes on human nature. A lot of passages are very therapy-quotable in their urging to accept the inevitability of causing some harm in life. It plays on a lot of the same concepts with light being obvious metaphor for good and evil that Paradise Lost does, but softens them into more realistic shades of human existence. Isaac Asimov: Foundation Continuing on with themes of rigid morality vs the flexibility and romanticism of humanity, we have Asimov, master of machines and the three rules of robotics! There are lots of quotable epigrams in this beast. The quote pulled from this has two readings depending on what you assume of the man who has said it. If you see him as manipulative, there’s an insidious underpinning of killing off your own morals. If you see him as a kind man, then you could read it as foregoing morals in place of empathy. Tony’s therapist loves a very specific brand of double speak that lets Tony work through the conversation purely through interpretation. Tolstoy: Anna Karenina Tolstoy’s prose is lengthy...so so lengthy, but Anna Karenina is worth the read as long as you relate to at least one of its major characters. Frankly, I think you can choose to read a single character’s plot arc and leave it at that. It’s mostly a novel that is interesting, not because of its plot, but because of its study of relationship dynamics. Tolstoy was really invested in picking apart the idea of what makes a ‘family’ and, beyond that, what makes a class. It’s refreshing to see so much of the critique occurring within the lived experience of the characters instead of through a narrator or outside punishing moral forces. Baudelaire: Windows and Benediction I cannot recommend enough reading multiple translations of Baudelaire poems (fleursdumal.org has a wonderful array available). Benediction is a personal favourite. I love me some malevolence wrapped up in religion. Dante: The Divine Comedy There’s a lot of bleak humor in Dante if you look for it. Several interpretations insist of making each piece excessively grim dark, but faithful translations tend to have a hint of humor in them. It works well for engraving War Machine’s spine - a benediction and a mockery of human limitations. I try to pick quotes that not only fit the scene, but would still fit into the context of the grander themes from whence they came...unless I hate the author. Tennyson: The Lady of Shallot “I am sick of shadows” vs “I am half-sick of shadows”. Tony’s expressing more frustration here with being alone and his passive involvement in that loneliness. Another quote I feel vaguely bad about changing, haha. The Lady of Shallot is a very nice classical piece that I’m sad isn’t taught in schools alongside Hamlet. There are some nice Ophelia parallels here. I wanted a feminine influence on Tony’s loneliness and one that is somewhat youthful despite his age. Yeats: Vacillation I fucking hate Yeats as a person. That said, the man can write. The man can REALLY write. His pieces are almost always layered to the point of absurdity and he’s perfect to swiping quotes with multiple meanings. Definitely Tony’s kind of author. Goethe: Faust Speaks for itself and in the author’s notes on its reference. Dostoyevsky: The Brothers Karamasov IMO a book that deserves all the acclaim of Anna Karenina and then some. Very VERY Russian in its ethical debates of, as always, religious morality vs free will. Also dips into familial struggles and patricide, because it wouldn’t be a Russian classic if it didn’t contain some deeply buried bitter resentment towards paternalism. I’m going off-script here, but this is a fucking excellent book. I don’t really have words for how much I enjoy how Dostoyevsky explores the concepts that he does. Shakespeare: Julius Ceasar Shakespeare: Twelfth Night Twelfth Night deserves more credit for its development and maintenance of an enigma. Twelfth Night has charisma in spades both because of and in spite of the exceedingly petty actions of some of its characters. It is also a refreshingly simple take on love for the sake of it. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland Stephen King: Lisey’s Story I consider Lisey’s Story to be the best of King’s work. The man has his obvious writing ticks and his even more obvious issues as an author. Lisey’s Story contains many of them, but navigates them far better than any of his other work. The monster here is all in the mind and is too vast to truly see or understand. It’s perfectly representative of a creeping sense of inescapable horror. It was fun to flip it on its head with a reference here – Tony isn’t terrified of dying, but he is terrified of his inescapable enjoyment of Bucky’s company. Maria’s family saying is inspired by Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass Armitage: The Death of King Arthur A genuinely fantastic classic tale of heroism, filled with all the drama, tragedy, and sacrifice that you’d expect with strongly feminine undertones. I’m a sucker for this kind of thing. TS Eliot: The Wasteland Excellent piece of poetry with many layered meanings and dual interpretations. I can’t really articulate my thoughts on The Wasteland, but I reference an essay at the end of this list that does that for me. Oedipus Rex Rupert Brooke: Safety Not directly quoted but obscurely referenced through Bucky and Tony’s war conversations + Bucky’s conversation about, you got it, being ‘safe’ with his therapist. His poetry is about WWI and is, largely, idealistic. Safety is…not quite an exception to that. His other poetry contains a certain sense of honour and duty, whereas safety, maintaining a seemingly light tone, has nothing of the sort. It is safety in the soul – something untouchable by the horrors of war or death. It treats that as a ‘house’, which leant itself to the article Tony send Bucky. Armine Wodehouse: Before Ginchy Not directly quoted but obscurely referenced through Bucky and Tony’s war conversations + Bucky’s conversations with his therapist. This is also WWI poetry, though far darker than Brooke’s work. It discusses the parts of the heart and soul soldiers lose. It is an extremely good piece AND references Dante’s Inferno. I had to work it in somewhere even if I didn’t want to directly quote it. Meyer and Brysac: Tournament of Shadows Referenced several times over in discussion of war, the great game, and British military history. Beautifully self-aware account of Britain’s insistence on rewriting history after the fact and the tiny hilariously embarrassing moving pieces that shaped what is often considered the heyday of espionage. Murakami: Kafka on the Shore I love Murakami’s response to questions about understanding the novel as a whole. There are no solutions, only riddles presented, and through their interaction the possibility of a solution takes place. It’s a great lens through which to view the book and individual passages taken out of it. Reminds me of The Wasteland having to be read in totality before you can begin picking it apart, after which each individual piece can be read of its own. Kafka on the Shore, with its musings on the uncertainty of fate and redemption, was the perfect book to outline Tony’s horrifying realization, which he is desperately suppressing, that he might be coming to accept Bucky’s feelings. This quote in particular, while I would’ve used it anyway, is also a great callback to the first chapter and its storms. Chapter 29 is a turning point. Beyond it there are some intentional quote contrasts that are probably more easter eggs than they are anything else. Yeats: A Dialogue of Self and Soul Great contrast with Vacillation. Some parts of self and soul are used in that poem and thematically they are connected and contrasted - self and heart vs self and soul. The symbolism and imagery in Vacillation is really on point and layered, but Self and Soul is peak Yeats for its reversal of the typical ‘the soul is pure and bluntly honest and the body is tainted and bad’ in Christian works. Also Self and Soul’s broader context is scrumptious considering the debate poems history of relying on divine forgiveness and lack thereof instead of on forgiveness of the self.

It was fun to give this poem a double meaning in IM as both hugely ominous and ultimately pointing to the later forgiveness Tony receives from himself through the divine (if the soul stone can be called that) in the heavens (space!). There’s also another fun twist to ‘who can distinguish darkness from the soul’ in its contrast with ‘what is dark within me, illuminate’. To take that a step further, Vacillation was the beginning of the path of forgiveness for Bucky (understanding Tony’s heart…somewhat literally as he slowly gets closer and closer to the reactor itself), while Self and Soul is a final step (re: Bucky being presented the final hurdle of Tony deciding to move forward alone). Hermann Hesse: Siddhartha Hesse is wonderfully blunt at times. I gotta admit I love German takes on spiritual self-discovery because they always seem to tend towards much more straightforward answers than other countries. Hesse’s relationship with Buddhism in literature vs his lived experience is also really intriguing. Anyway, Siddhartha, in its humanizing of Gods, is wonderful contrast to the consistent imagery of the untouchable and unknowable forces of good and evil in previously quoted works. It has stopped bringing humanity to the divine and has started placing the divine within humanity. Emily Wilson’s translation of the Odyssey One of the ultimate poetic epics. Now that we are nearing the end, I’m going overtime with making the grander themes of this whole piece hit home. A lot of IM was built on a foundation of poetic epics, of heroism, and a bit of Greek tragedy. The Odyssey embodies all of those things beautifully. It also suited Thor too well to pass up. Yeats: An Irish Airman Forsees His Death Ah, Yeats. Very blatant foreshadowing here that is keeping with the foreshadowing from Self and Soul. Fate has, up till this point, been a bit of a question. It has been ‘when will it come to me’ and ‘how will I avoid or overcome it’. Now fate is a set point. It is knowable and present. ‘I know I shall meet my fate, somewhere among the clouds above’. This goes for the true onset of Infinity War and for Tony’s feelings towards Bucky – when he had no one, he allowed Bucky in after essentially promising himself he wouldn’t. If that’s not an accidental admittance of love, nothing is. Henley: Invictus Absolutely fantastic poem. Continuing with the heavy fate themes coming into this climax. Now that Tony knows his fate, truly knows it, he is choosing to take it on directly. Agamemnon (Anne Carson’s Traslation if you prefer a more modern language approach, Lattimore is you prefer a classic) Agamemnon is forgotten all too often in the world of poetic epics and it’s a damn shame. I cannot say enough good things about it. I always wanted to use lines from Agamemnon in a Tony fic because the Cassandra parallels were too perfect to resist. The chorus in this play was also a perfect narrative device for interacting with something of a hive mind. Yeats: The Wanderings of Oisin Another poetic epic. Nice contrast with The Odyssey, The Death of King Arthur, and Agamemnon. Here the dialogue is between an aged hero and a saint looking into the hero’s past. It has the kind of reflective and aged mood necessary for this stage of the story, but is actually a poem I sortof hate. The line ‘And a softness came from the starlight, and filled me full to the bone’ is absolutely gorgeous, though. Some final inspiration pieces:

The Penelopiad

The Iliad

House of Leaves (for surrealism in the final chapters)

Dante at Verona (used in an author’s note as an intentional jab at the dull uninspired nature of the this particular take on Dante. Repurposed quote, essentially)

a broke machine just blowin’ steam by themikeymonster (great character study of Bucky)

Frank Kermode’s essay “Eliot and the Shudder” (inspiration behind Tony’s entire interaction with literature)

#long post #reply #illuminate me #literature references

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apenapaperandadoofus · 4 years

Note

PLEASE SHARE IT. PLEASE, I NEED IT.

ASK AND YA SHALL RECIEVE

Keep in mind I was about 12-13-ish when I wrote it and I was in my angsty stage so this gets a bit dark pft

here are the first 2 chapters -there are like 9 in total I think- if ya want the fnaf one then tell me bc I actually have to translate it and everything bc I wrote it in Spanish lol

TW mentions of abuse sorta and alcoholism

"Come back here you lil' shit!!!"

"I'll kill ya, I swear to God I'll kill ya!!!"

I could hear him behind me, stumbling and crashing into things, with that stupid glass bottle in his hand.

I have to keep going or he will really kill me. I kept running zig-zagging through the trees trying to lose him.

"You little fuck!!! How dare you run away from me after all I've done for you?! I was the one that gave you a roof under your head, the one that fed you and took care of you and THIS is how you repay me?!"

Yea right. I'd rather be in the streets than have to live with you in that damned house again. C'mon (Y/N) you're almost there!!

"I'll do the same thing I did with them to you!! You'll end up like all those kids, like all those dirty bastards!"

CRASH!

A flash of lightning crashed behind me.

Keep going, keep going.

Suddenly, as I keep climbing up I see something.

A cave.

Yes!! Now I can finally get rid of him! I quickly started climbing, finally getting into the cave. It was really chilly, but it would at least protect me from the rain, and since it was nighttime and he was drunk he'd have no chance of finding me.

Or that's what I thought.

"Ahh, there you are my dear (Y/N)~ You are quite slippery you know? You remind me so much of her, my little Frisk. But you both had to escape from me didn't ya. Do you know what happened to Frisk dear?"

He chuckled and came closer, while I was walking backward trying not to stumble.

"I killed her." He smiled. " It was an accident, I didn't want to, but she was being a naughty little girl~ [EW WTF WHY DID I WRITE IT LIKE THAT LMFAO GREAT WAY TO MAKE HIM CREEPY AF AMANDA]" he came closer, and the smell of booze reached my nose.

"G-get away from me you creep!"

He laughed and pushed me, making me stumble and fall down. I tried to crawl away but then he started kicking me.

IM ALSO NOT PUTTING THIS PART BC IT WAS CROSSING THE LINE A BIT AND I WANTED TO MAKE IT DARK ANYWAY THE THING IS THIS SHIT ESCALATED REALLY QUICKLY AND I GASPED BC HOLY SHIT WHAT WAS WITH ME

Basically, he said more creepy shit bc I wanted to make him a huge asshole, but I still don't feel comfortable putting it and I'm sure for other ppl its uncomfortable too so uh, lets just say the guy was just really really bad and wanted to do really bad things to uhh, the reader

This, this guy had the nerve to- ugh!!

"S-stop it"

He quickly grabbed me by my hair and brought my face closer so we were locking eyes.

"Y'know no one cares about you! You're nothing! But if you stay with me you'll see I can be a good guy! I promise I will treat you better! I will do anything for you. You just have to be a good girl and stay in your room."

"No!!"

I quickly spit on him and kicked him in the stomach. I was not going back there, not going to suffer through all that again. I got to my feet and ran deeper and deeper into the cave

"You can't escape (Y/N)~" I heard from behind me.

I ran faster. I'm not going to let him win. I'm not.

" You'll just end up like Frisk!"

Crash!!!

I yelped and tripped on a vine, falling into a hole, hearing his echoed taunts getting farther and farther away.

Is this it?

Is this how I die?

Will I really end up like Frisk?

No.

I won't die. I can't die. Not today.

Those were my last thoughts before I was surrounded by darkness.

Chapter 2 [this one is more fun I lol]

"You little bitch!"

"Come back here!"

"You'll end up just like Frisk"

"I promise we'll get out of here....

Frisk"

I woke up with a start. My head dizzy from the fall.

Where...am I? Who's Frisk? Why can't I remember anything...? Hold on, did I loose my memory? What the-

"Heck!!" I heard someone say behind me. I quickly turned around, and saw a kid who looked to be around my age, floating a few feet away from me. Their hair was up to their shoulders and they were wearing shorts with a cute green stripped sweater.

"Seriously?! And just when I get used to being dead?! Do you hate me that much world!?" The kid yelled while waving their fist at the top of the cave.

Huh.....

Wait.....

Dead?

Am I dead?

If so where the heck am I?

Is this what the afterlife is like? Being stuck with a 10 year old ghost kid? Is it because of that one time I stole a ring pop from John? Because if it is he totally deserved it, he wasn't even gonna eat it!

"Am I really dead..?" I whispered.

Suddenly the ghost kid turned around and looked at me.

"Wat?" They asked.

"Am...am I dead?" I looked at my palms trying to figure out what was going on.

The kid sighed.

"No. You're not dead you dummy, you just fell down into the Underground, and somehow that awoke me...huh... that's weird."

Oh. So I'm not dead. That's nice I guess.

"Um, wait, the Underground?" I stood up, and stretched a bit, trying to check if everything was alright.

"Yea. With monsters and stuff. You just fell down from Mt.Ebott. You'd be the second human here to fall down."

Wait. The second one? I thought six more had disappeared in here a while ago.

"You mean the seventh human." I corrected them.

"Noooo, I mean the SECOND human, jeez are you deaf or something?"

They glared at me as if I was the dumbest person they had ever met.

"Nuh-uh. If there's one thing I remember is that 6 humans had fallen before me"

"Well then you remembered wrong because last time I checked I was the only one. That fall must've really damaged your brain" they chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. They really were stubborn and they were pretty rude too! If it were up to me I would've walked away by now but since I am down here somewhere I don't know with MONSTERS, I should really have an ally and they seem to be my only hope. Maybe they're nice once you get to know them, so I should really try to befriend them.

"So uh, ghost kid...what's your name?" I looked at them with a sweet smile, trying to be friendly.

"My name is Chara. And I was the first human to fall down here. What's yours?"

"My what"

"Your name, you idiot. Don't tell me you forgot that too." They smirked.

"Pshh I didn't forget my name!" I puffed my cheeks and looked the other way. I honestly had no idea what my name was but I wasn't going to let that ghost kid treat me like a dumbass again.

"Fine then, what is it?"

Shoot.

"U-um i-its uh..."

Let's seeeeee... what's a good name? Oh jeez what are some good names I could use right now?

As I was panicking suddenly something came to my mind.

"Frisk." I said.

I have no idea who Frisk is, but it felt just right. And it was the first thing that popped into my mind so.

"Oh. That's a peculiar name. But we'll then, Frisk. What are you going to do? Do you want to go back to the surface?" They eyed me with curiosity. I honestly had no idea what I would do. But I just had this urge to go back to the surface. But there was nothing up in there for me was there? I mean maybe I had a family or something's that's looking for me right now. Or maybe I could just be a homeless nobody.

"Do you promise me we'll get out of here?" "Yes. And we'll go and look at the stars in a field of golden flowers, like the ones in your book. It's a promise."

"I want to go back up."

That seemed to get Chara's attention.

"R-really? You want to go back up there? With those assholes?" They scoffed.

"Yep. I just feel as if I have something important to do over there. Like a promise."

"Ah...well, if you want I can show you the way! We can go meet these monsters, they took care of me while I was in here! They could help you!" They smiled and started going ahead of me.

"Uhm, sure, I guess! That'd be cool!" I said as I started walking behind them. If I manage to get those monsters' help, I'll be out of here and try to get my memory back and fulfill my promise.

CRINGY I KNOW BUT WERE GETTING TO THE PICKUP LINES AND THOSE ARE HILARIOUS IN A BAD WAY LMAO MAYBE I CAN LATER POST THE OTHER CHAPTERS PFT

Chapter 3

"So uh..Chara..will these people have food?" I asked while walking behind them.

"Food?" "Yup" "You're stuck in a place full of monsters and all you can think of is food?"

Before I could answer though, my stomach let out a loud growl. I giggled.

"I guess that answers your question."

We became quiet again until Chara turned around and looked at me.

"So how old are you?" "I'm about to be twelve" "You're pretty mature for a twelve year old" they scoffed. "Well you're pretty immature to be whatever age you are." Chara laughed.

"I'm thirteen. So that basically means you have to do everything I say since I'm the older one" they stuck their tounge out.

"That's not fair!" I proclaimed. "The world isn't fair." The smirked. "Your face isn't fair"

"Damn, Frisk, you got me" they said with mockery.

"Shut up"

They laughed and then looked at me with a serious expression. "No but really, if you want to survive here you'll have to listen to me or else you'll die. And if you abuse the SAVE point it'll stop working. If you loose determination too."

"Woah. Wait what? A save point? Determination? I am really confused right now"

"Ugh, I'll explain later. Right now we have to get to the RUINS."

"Is that were you lived when you were stuck down here?"

"Tch, why do you care? And I wasn't stuck. I lived here because it's the only place were murder isn't the first option and monsters aren't assholes."

"Hey, stop being so rude, I just want to find out more about you! I really want us to have a good relationship if you're stuck with me for a while!"

"Just mind your own business."

"Ughh you're so-"

I suddenly stopped walking when I saw a single gold flower in the middle of the path.

"Why'd you sto- ohh that's creepy."

"It's just a flower. It won't do anything."

I kneeled down to look at the flower better, for some reason this flower looked different than all the other ones.. I was about to reach out for it when all of a sudden the flower turned around and smiled at me.

"Howdy! I'm Flowey! Flowey the Flower!"

What. The.

This flower could talk?! What?!

"Oooook Frisk this is definitely creepy, don't touch it and walk away."

I ignored Chara and smiled at the flower. They seemed friendly, so why not?

"Hey there! I'm, um, Frisk. I'm new around here."

Flowey noded and smiled at me.

"Oh! So since you're new you probably don't know how the Underground works! I guess lil' old me will have to teach you! Ready?"

"Frisk I'm not really getting good vibes from this guy." Chara said again, this time a little bit more serious.

"Shhh" I stood up and looked at Flowey, nodding.

"Thank you Flowey!! You're really nice! So how does this all wo-?" Suddenly I was being surrounded by darkness, with Flowey standing in front of me.

"Where is-" I suddenly stopped talking when I saw a red...heart? In front of me.

"See that red heart over there?" Flowey asked me.

I nodded.

"That is your SOUL, the very culmination of your being!"

"Woahh, that's so cool!"

"Your soul starts off weak, but it can get stronger if you gain a lot of LV."

Suddenly Chara appeared beside me and shook their head.

"Frisk I don't think he-"

"Frisk! You may be asking: Flowey, what does LV stand for? Well, for LOVE of course!!"

Oh. I guess in here is not that bad if their policy is like the place where the Carebears live.

"Fris-"

"You want some LOVE don't ya? Well don't worry! I'll share some with you."

After he said that a few white pettals appeared in front of Flowey. I guess that's how you get some LV right?

"Frisk, I'm serious right now, do not touch the bullets."

I looked at Chara.

"Thanks but what bu-"

"DOWN HERE" Flowey yelled to get my attention. I turned to look at him with a nervous smile, he just rolled his eyes and kept talking.

"LOVE, is shared through some....little...white... friendliness pellets!"

Ok. Now that was definitely suspicious. And where those the bullets Chara was talking about before? Jeez this guy really got me, but I mean. He's a flower why in the world would he kill me?

"Are you ready Frisk?! Catch as many as you can!" Then, the...white friendliness pellets, started moving towards me. How in the world was he doing that?! This place is so weird, filled with talking flowers and dead kids suddenly becoming alive again. I just want to go home!

"Frisk!! Watch out!!" Chara yelled beside me.

"What?"

I looked at Flowey and saw the pellets getting closer to me. Before I had the time to dodge they got me and I felt a huge amount of pain. I fell to the ground on my knees, gasping for air, trying to make it go away.

What was happening?! I quickly looked behind me when I noticed that the yellow bar that was once full, was suddenly empty. It said 1/20.

Chara rolled her eyes.

"You dummy! Those were bullets! And to even top it off you have literally one hp left!"

"One hp...? Wait Chara what is goin-"

"You idiot." I heard a creepy voice say behind me.

I slowly turned my head around, looking at Flowey, with my eyes widening.

"F-Flowey?"

"In this world, it's killed or be killed!"

"Wha-what?"

"Why would ANYONE pass up an opportunity like this?"

"Chara!" I yelled trying to get up, but a couple of bullets appeared beside me and surrounded me, trapping me where I was.

"DIE. " I heard Flowey yell, while the bullets started closing in on me.

Maybe I could dodge them? Or find a way to escape? Where was Chara and why weren't they helping me?

I heard Floweys's laughter get louder and louder while the bullets got closer and I shut my eyes.

I guess this is the end now. I will really die. Did I seriously think I would survive in this Underground world? Really? They're monsters for God's sake! Of course I would die here. And I wouldn't be able to fill my promise. My eyes started tearing up. I could feel the bullets really close now, about to touch me when-

All of a sudden, a fireball hit Flowey in the face, making him disappear with the bullets. Chara appeared beside me.

"Phew! That was close! At least she got here in time! I told you he wasn't a good person Frisk! If you want to survive here you'll have to do exactly what I tell you to do, or else you'll die." They nagged me.

I tried standing up once again, trying to see who saved me.

"What a horrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth." Came a sweet voice from above me. I felt their hands go in my back and a weird warm feeling surrounded me.

When the warm feeling was gone, I didn't feel pain anymore. That was weird. I finally managed to stand up, and looked at the lady who saved me.

She's a.....goat? Lady? Monster?

She had a really pretty purple tunic, with a weird white symbol in the chest area.

She smiled at me and waved her hand.

"Ah do not be afraid my child. I am TORIEL, caretaker or the RUINS. I pass down here everyday to see if any humans have fallen down."

I looked at Chara, who looked to be about to cry. Maybe this was the monster they were talking about before? The ones that took care of them probably?

I shook my head and smiled at Toriel. She did look like she had good intentions, and yes, they did save me from that wretched flower. But I wasn't going to be dumb enough to fall into the same trap again, so this time I had to be cautious.

Toriel smiled back, and turned around, grabbing my hand.

"Come, my child, I will guide you through the catacombs!"

And with that, she grabbed my hand and walked with me, leading the way.

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theintelligentfool · 4 years

Text

heyyyy im trying my hand at writing romance-ish stuff and posted the results! lmk what you think :)

“Oh, for the love of-” Ajax groaned, quietly, under his breath. The elevator door had opened to let someone in. And it was a face he’d recognize anywhere, even in civilian clothes.

It was none other than his archnemesis, Professor Sinister, the most dastardly supervillain in the city. His jet-black hair and cool blue eyes were the same as in-costume, as were his sharp facial features that his domino mask didn’t cover. His distinctive black cape and tuxedo-esque costume were gone, however, and in its place was a plain grey turtleneck and cream-colored jeans.

It was odd, seeing the Professor in casual civilian’s clothing, though Ajax had to admit it looked good on him. Not that the costume didn’t, but it was... oddly humanizing to see his archnemesis dressed like a normal person. Ajax had heard other people refer to the Professor as attractive before, and while he hadn’t disagreed, he felt like he understood those people a little better now. Not that it meant anything, of course. The Professor was his sworn enemy, evil, and all that.

The Professor didn’t seem to recognize Ajax, which was good, though it was uncomfortable standing right next to him in the small elevator. Ajax didn’t know what he’d’ve done if the Professor had recognized him. Have a fight, maybe? That’s what usually happened when they interacted. But the elevator was a small, confined space, and he was in civilian clothing. And also on the way to a job interview, though if Professor Sinister worked here, Ajax was fairly certain he didn’t want to anymore. He’d still go to the interview, of course, but if he could find anything else, he’d decline to work there.

The elevator stopped. Ajax checked the buttons. It was his floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Professor doing the same thing. The doors opened. There was nothing but a wall in front of them. Ajax didn’t dare speak, for fear of getting recognized, but internally he was cursing up a storm.

The Professor groaned. He pressed the ‘call’ button on the elevator.

“Hello? Can anyone hear me? The elevator is stuck between floors, assistance required.”

It took a couple of minutes- a couple awful, agonizing minutes that stretched like hours- but there was a response. “Remain calm. The elevator is being repaired. It should be freed within five hours.” “Thank you.”

The elevator beeped again, signaling the call was over. Ajax could no longer contain his rage. “No! No, no, no, for Christ’s sake! I can’t be trapped here!” He started pounding, futilely, against the walls of the elevator.

The Professor looked at him, raising a single eyebrow. “Claustrophobic, are you? Anyway, don’t forget, you’re not the only one trapped here.” “I’m not claustrophobic at all, actually. And I am well aware that I’m trapped in here with you, of all people, by the way.” Confusion and concern flickered across the Professor’s face for a brief moment, an expression Ajax was usually thrilled to see. “Rude,” he said, after a brief pause. “What on earth do you mean, me of all people?” “Forget it.” Ajax huffed, sneering, before he sat down against the wall. “We’re gonna be trapped here for a while. I want to interact as little as possible in that while, if you wouldn’t mind.” “...Sure.” The Professor sat down as well, rolling his eyes.

A few minutes passed. Ajax was very pointedly not looking at the Professor. The Professor, however, kept glancing at him.

“I’m sorry, you just- you seem very familiar to me. Do I know you? Have we met before?” Ajax suddenly laughed. “You could certainly say that, Lefty.” The Professor suddenly stiffened. “But the only person who calls me th-” “It’s me, Teach. Now the big reveal’s outta the way, can you please shut up? Bad enough I’m stuck here with you and you’ll probably use my civilian identity against me, but can we at least not make it any worse than it has to be.”

The Professor sneered, his entire demeanor changed. “Whatever you say, Cap’n.”

Ajax didn’t even comment on the Professor’s mockery of his name. It’s Captain, and he knew it, as he would often point out. Captain Incredible, and don’t you dare forget it. But he just was not feeling up to a banter. “Listen, if you want to have a fight, go for it, but we’re both in civilian clothes and this elevator has barely enough room for the two of us to sit. Anything more than slapping is going to end up badly for the both of us.” The Professor blinked in surprise, another expression Ajax would have loved to see on him at any other time. “What, that’s it? No correction? No banter? Are you sure you’re actually Captain Incredible…?” He furrowed his brows.

“Yes.” Completely deadpan, Ajax shut his eyes. He rubbed his forehead in a way he rarely felt the need to do in the presence of his nemesis, or while in costume at all. He felt a headache coming on.

Slightly stunned, the Professor went quiet. Thank God for that, Ajax thought.

A few more minutes passed, when finally the Professor couldn’t take it. “Really? No banter at all? None? Not a single witty joke or sarcastic remark or flippant one-liner?” “Fine, here’s a one-liner: I’m really not in the mood for banter. Or, for that matter, conversation.” “Technically, that’s two lines.” “Listen, lefty, I told you- I’m not in the mood today.”

“Wow. I know I’ve always said you need to shut up and stop making jokes, but it’s honestly really weird not hearing them from you. Are… Are you okay, Cap?” The Professor looked extremely uncomfortable as he asked. Ajax laughed humorlessly. “Wow, lefty, asking your sworn enemy if he’s okay? Are you going soft? One wonders what that will do for your reputation.” He carefully dodged the question, not really feeling like lying, even to the Professor. “It’s just the two of us trapped in an elevator. My reputation is irrelevant right now. And if you try and tell anyone it even happened, I’ll deny it ‘till the day I die.”

Ajax rolled his eyes, but he was feeling a little bit better. Their banter always seemed to lift his mood. “Can I ask a question?” “Go for it, teach,” Ajax said flatly. He wasn’t feeling that much better, though.

“Why do you call me ‘lefty’? Literally no one else does and I have always wondered. I’m not even left-handed!” The Professor gestured as he spoke, pointing at his left hand. “Oh, easy question. I thought you already knew. I looked up synonyms for ‘sinister’ online one day, and apparently it also means ‘left-handed.’ Who knew?” “That… that answer makes more sense than I thought it would,” admitted the Professor.

To this, Ajax simply shrugged. He didn’t really have enough energy to continue the conversation.

About an hour passed in silence far more comfortable than sitting practically right next to your sworn enemy should be. After a while, the Professor even brought out his phone.

“You know there’s no real signal in here, right?” “I know, I’m just playing Tetris.” “Shut up, there is no way in hell that you, the officially most dastardly supervillain in the entire city according to a recent census poll, literal evil incarnate, genuine public nuisance, disruptor of the peace, actual literal supervillain, child kidnapper, the world’s worst jerk, the guy-”

“You done?” “-with the literal worst score in the history of ratemyprofessor, horrible interrupter of sentences, frequent guest star in children’s nightmares, plays freaking Tetris.” “I have hobbies outside of evil, you know.” The Professor seemed vaguely miffed. “Sure you do.” Ajax over-exaggeratedly rolled his eyes.

A few more moments of comfortable silence passed, marked only by the very faint Tetris theme playing from the Professor’s phone. Ajax resisted humming along, for the most part.

“Okay, wait, hang on, what’s your high score?” He had to ask. “Eh?” The Professor paused his game and looked up, tilting his head slightly to the right. “On Tetris. Your high score.” “378,067. Why?” Ajax checked his own phone and compared scores. “Oh, damn it!” “Oh? Do you happen to have a lower high score than I do?” The Professor did a full-on evil cackle, at least partially for comedic sake. He was really good at the manic cackle.

“By literally thirty points. I swear to God-” “Ha! This is great. You’ve practically admitted your inferior intelligence to me.” Ajax went bright red. His intelligence was a sore subject. “Thirty points is almost nothing, and you know it.” “But do you? That’s the real question. Can your tiny monkey brain comprehend numbers properly?” Ah, yes, the most antagonistic side of their banter, usually where the Professor mocked some trait of Ajax’s, and Ajax would respond with a rude comment of his own. It was always about as good-natured as the rest, but for this particular topic, Ajax was a little less willing to crack jokes or put up with harsh comments. “I don’t know why I’m even talking to you.” “Exactly: you don’t know. You’re incapable of using logic and reasoning. Something unsurprising to anyone who’s known you for more than ten minutes.” The Professor grinned, all teeth. “Just… Just shut up, alright? I really don’t need to hear any more comments about my intelligence or lack thereof today, okay? Please?” His voice cracked a little, and internally, he cursed himself for it. The Professor blinked in surprise. This was not a usual occurrence. Usually, the two would match each other, comment for comment, attack for attack. It rubbed on them both the wrong way whenever the dynamic became unbalanced in either direction, Ajax knew that much. It always made him feel guilty, somehow, when it was unbalanced in his favor. He wasn’t sure about why the Professor disliked it, though. Ajax liked to think the Professor also felt bad when the dynamic was unbalanced in his favor, though that was just wishful thinking.

The Professor, in a surprising turn of events, shut up.

“...Thank you.” Ajax mumbled, quietly.

The Professor nearly jumped in response to the thanks, looking startled, and then like he finally had the last piece of a puzzle.. “You’re not Captain Incredible! You’re some sort of clone! That explains the lack of proper banter, too… You’re an insult to his name!” The Professor leaped to his feet, seemingly ready to attack. Ajax raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care when my name is insulted? Half the time, you’re the one that’s insulting it.”

“It’s not your name, it’s the Captain’s name.” The Professor wrinkled his nose in distaste.

Ajax rolled his eyes. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to answer a question only I would know the answer to?” “Very funny, clone. What have you done to the real Captain Incredible?!” “Again, since when do you care what anyone’s done to me? You’re the one to... do things to me, for lack of a better way to phrase it, well over half the time.” “I’ve done nothing to you, clone. That accusation might be fair game if you were the Captain. But, as you are not, that accusation is null and void and meaningless.” The Professor glared. “I swear to god, lefty. This is getting old fast. I’m the real me, the real Captain Incredible, you got me to admit it live on the elevator camera that may or may not exist and the microphone that may or may not exist. Well done, you did your evil scheme, but jokes on you, I have stopped caring.” The Professor seemed a little startled. “What evil sch- Oh, actually, that would have been fairly clever…” The Professor paused for half a moment, considering it, before snapping out of it. “But no, I wasn’t planning on anything like that. And that’s another proof you’re not the real Captain, you don’t care about his secret identity. I once saw him nearly- key word, nearly- kill a lower-level villain for even implying he knew his name. At least stand up and fight me or something instead of just sitting here.” Ajax did not stand up. “Wasn’t my proudest moment.” He shrugged. “Listen, Prof, I’m telling the truth. I’m me!” He exclaimed, exasperatedly. “If you wanna know so bad why I haven’t been bantering or what have you and don’t really care about my secret identity even half as much anymore, you could've just asked! God, you’re so dramatic.” Ajax was not always against his nemeses’ tendency to err on the dramatic side of things, being a fair bit dramatic himself. But it was rather annoying at times.

Ajax took a deep breath. “My girlfriend found out about my secret identity about a month ago and broke up with me. It was messy. It was horrible. My heart was broken. And to make it worse, she pulled some strings and got me fired from my job. I’ve been officially unemployed for the last three weeks because she was mad about me keeping a secret from her even though the secret could have cost her life. I’ve been a mess! She kicked me out of our apartment, too, and now I’m living with my old college roommate and trying desperately to get another job. I’m here to apply, actually.”

Ajax took another deep breath. “Today in particular’s been really rough because almost the entire time I was there at the apartment this morning, my roommate kept making passive-aggressive comments, mainly about my intelligence, which has always been a bit of a sore spot for me anyway.”

“What a complicated backstory for a clone.” The Professor narrowed his eyes. “Lefty, I swear to whatever god is listening, I’m not a clone. You know what, I’ll even tell you something to prove it, something I’ve never willingly told anyone who’s met Captain Incredible. My name is A-” “No.” The Professor shook his head vividly.

“Eh? It’s what you always wanted, isn’t it? Know my name, go after my family, make life a living hell for everyone I’ve ever loved? I don’t care anymore. I’ve got no real friends outside the Heroes’ League, my family disowned me years ago, and ‘everyone I’ve ever loved’ is a list that seems to be shortening itself.” “Look, clone, I don’t know how much of what you said is true, and I don’t care to find out. I owe the real Captain Incredible at least that much respect. I’m not interested in uncovering his identity, name or other details aside. And what’s more, I don’t want a clone of him telling me anything he doesn’t want me to know.”

Now it was Ajax’s turn to blink in surprise. “That was… honestly surprising to hear. And kind of nice, if I’m being honest. It’s nice to hear you hold me in such positive regard, lefty. I think I kind of needed to hear that at least someone does. That, and I think that’s the actual nicest thing you have ever said to me.” Why did he want to smile at that? It wasn’t that nice of a comment, and surely he couldn’t be that desperate for praise- from the Professor, of all people.

The Professor seemed to soften a little, before immediately hardening again. He sat back down. “I still don’t think you’re the real Captain, but you don’t seem immediately hostile.”

“Well jeez, real sweet. Not immediately hostile. This whole clone thing is driving me nuts, teach. How can I prove to you I’m the real me?”

“Well, obviously, you can’t. Any personal secrets, I wouldn’t be able to verify, and most of our interactions show up regularly in news articles.”

“Seriously? Nothing I can do? At all?”

The Professor thought for a moment. “Fine. A question only you and I would know the answers to. I thought of one.” “Well? Get on with it.” “Where did our real first battle take place? Not the one that got published and shown on TV, but the one with just the two of us where you called me a lily-livered cur.” A ghost of a smile seemed to flicker across the Professor’s face at the memory, but it was gone before Ajax could be sure. “Uh, hang on. I know it was somewhere by Central Park, I think, ‘cause there was that mugger and it was right by my apartment… Ha, that was when we still had our first costumes. Gosh, we looked so stupid. Anyway, final answer, Central Park, by the hydrangea bush. I remember it almost fondly, truth be told.” He probably shouldn’t remember it fondly. It was a battle with his archnemesis. But it was his first battle with him, and they’d both been so stupid about the whole thing, and it was funny to think about and somehow incredibly nostalgic. Which made it a pleasant memory, despite his knowing better. “Well, damn. It really is you. I mean, unless whatever pretending to be you is able to see your memories… Or you told someone and I didn’t know…” “Lefty. I’m warning you.”

“Fine, fine. Paranoia off.” The Professor mimed flicking a switch off, to prove his point. Ajax tried not to smile at that.

Ajax took a deep breath. “Does that mean you believe me about everything else now, too?” “Yeah, I guess so. Sorry to hear it, by the way. That sounds like it really sucks.” “You’ve got absolutely no idea, Teach.” Ajax chuckled humorlessly, but still managed to crack a small smile. And at that, silence fell over the two of them. Once again, it was a far more comfortable and companionable silence than any silence between two sworn enemies has a right to be.

“Attention, passengers of elevator 7B! There have been delays in attempts to fix the elevator. The projected time for your rescue is now ten hours. Over and out.” “WHAT?!” Ajax screamed. “No! No no no! Come on!”

“What, can’t stand any more time in my company? I’d rather thought we’d been starting to get along.” “We’re still sworn enemies, you know. And I still don’t like being trapped for ten hours with anyone.” Ajax sighed. “Besides, you’re still evil.” He said that as much to say it to the Professor as he did to remind himself of the fact. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” The Professor asked, clearly upset. Ajax briefly regretted his comment, but did his best to ignore it.

“You’ve still hurt people, stolen from people, committed heinous crimes against the citizens of this city. A villain’s a villain, teach. You were voted the official single most dastardly supervillain in the city for a reason.” Again, Ajax was speaking to the Professor as much as he was saying it to remind himself. This man is not your friend, Ajax, he reminded himself. “Hey, y’know what? I’m the only prominent supervillain in this city, probably in this continent, even, without a death count. That’s gotta count for something.” The Professor almost looked genuinely hurt, but Ajax hadn’t seen him with that vulnerable of an expression before enough to tell. “I hurt people mainly when it is unavoidable. I’m mostly just about teaching everyone a lesson, you know that better than anyone. It’s not like there was any other way to get my message heard, and to get people to listen.” “Oh yeah? And what message exactly is that, huh?”

“The rich have done nothing for our city. Our country. The lower classes suffer, straining under the weight of the upper class, the 1%, and so does the climate. But apparently, pointing that out and trying to actually do something about that is villainy.” “No, that’s activism. Honestly, it's a great ideology, in theory, and I could respect you for it, but that’s not exactly what you’ve been doing. Kidnapping the mayor’s son, however, and holding him hostage? That is villainy.”

The Professor gave a shrug. “It’s the only way he would listen, and the only reason I did that was so I could get him to pass a law restricting pollution here in the city. But before I could even send the ransom note- and really, is it even ransom since I wasn’t asking for money?- you and several other quote-unquote “heroes” showed up to take the little brat back. I didn’t hurt a hair on that kids head, despite what you seemed to think, and I even went as far as going out of my way to prevent injury to him during his, however brief, stay. I didn’t even knock him out!” “I… I didn’t know that you weren’t asking for money,” Ajax said after a minute. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to recall what the mission briefing had been like. All the director had said was that the Professor was holding the mayors son hostage. On one hand, it was still definitely evil to kidnap a child, but on the other, the Professor did kind of make a point. “Or what you really were asking for. And while I suspected, I guess I didn’t actually know that you also were going out of your way not to hurt him. The other heroes rationalized it by saying you hadn’t begun torturing him yet, or whatever, but I wasn’t quite sure. It’s a nice confirmation, I guess.”

“I’m sure it is.” There was little warmth in the Professor’s gaze. He seemed irritated at the subject having been brought up. “That’s not my only plot for a better life that you and the other quote-unquote “heroes” have foiled. It gets frustrating, sometimes. I mean, I have to keep up appearances and reputation, now, because if any other supervillain in the city gets the notion I’m not as sinister as my name suggests, or on the side for a better future at any cost, or what have you, I’ll be fed to the sharks. And I mean that literally.”

“Sounds gruesome.” “Oh, you think? I hadn’t noticed,” the Professor said, sarcastically. “Being an official villain has its perks, though. I get my message out, some people listen, and I get the resources of the Villain’s League. I mean, it’s not easy having everyone in the city who doesn’t live under a rock hate everything about you, but I have a decent disguise- though I’m not really surprised you recognized me- and no one’s figured out my identity yet. I’ve never really been one to care about others' opinions of me anyway.”

Ajax didn’t really know what to say. The Professor was trusting him a lot with this information, and he didn’t know what to do with it. Mostly, he was trying to make peace with the fact that just about everything he thought he knew about his archnemesis was wrong. Practically the only accurate things he actually knew about him prior to this encounter were that he looked good in spandex (not that Ajax would ever admit this to anyone), he had a wry sense of humor that was sharp enough to cut, and he had a hell of a right hook. Almost everything else was a dumb assumption about ethics. Ajax honestly kind of felt like he owed him an apology, at this point, but didn’t know how he’d take it.

But he couldn’t just not say anything.

“That… Honestly sounds really rough. I’m sorry to be one of the people that made it rougher.” The Professor seems thoroughly surprised. “The Captain, apologizing? Are you sure you’re not a clone?” After one look at Ajax’s expression, he chuckles. “Kidding, kidding.”

“I may not agree with all of your decisions, and I’ll still try to stop you when you’re plotting to take over or what have you, but I can understand your intentions are noble. I’ve made too many assumptions about you, I think, and your villainous title.”

The Professor paused for a moment, searching for the right words to respond with. “...Thanks, Captain. I’ll be honest, I still disagree with how you’re going about heroism, but I can also sort of see how you’d think that I can respect what you do.” Ajax was surprised not to detect the expected note of condescension in that last remark.

“And what more could I really hope for?” Ajax smiled, one of the few genuine smiles he’d ever shown to his nemesis.

“A higher score on Tetris, maybe?” Ajax’s expression very quickly became a comical, over-exaggerated scowl. He retained composure for about a minute before he burst out laughing. The Professor joined in laughing too, and for once, it wasn’t a maniacal cackle. Ajax decided he very much liked the sound of it.

A few hours later, filled mostly with silence and partially with a comfortable conversation and banter, Ajax checked his watch. It was nearly 11 at night. So that’s why he was so tired. He leaned against the elevator wall. “So, how much longer should it be, now?” “Maybe an hour and a half. Are you really comfortable sleeping right here in the elevator?” “That should be enough time for some shuteye. I’m very, very tired. I think I’m comfortable with most sleeping positions and places right now.” “Fair enough, I suppose. But still, with another person right there? Your sworn enemy, no less? There’s no way you trust me that much.” “Don’t be ridiculous. If you were going to try and attack me, you’d’ve done so already. Admittedly, though, if you’d asked me this morning if it was even a possibility, I’d’ve laughed in your face and called you an idiot.” Ajax shrugs. “The elevator rules seem to be different than normal fight rules.”

The Professor nodded in agreement. “Oh, and speaking of normal fight rules, are we ever going to be acknowledging this? Whether vaguely in public ‘something happened’ or by simply agreeing to go a little easier on each other?”

Ajax paused for a moment. “That’s a good question. Well, I don’t think we can acknowledge it to the public or any news outlets, that just feels like a violation of privacy. And if we go easier on each other, are we still archnemeses? Do we have to get new archnemeses?” The Professor scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I could never be happy with another archnemesis. You’ve spoiled me for anyone else. None of them will have the same banter.” “Honestly, I feel much the same.” And more besides. Their rivalry was a relationship he didn’t really want to lose. Even before the elevator, he’d considered them to be very good rivals. They knew each other, shared a sense of humor, and had enough respect for one another that neither evil schemes nor heroic plans ever went too far. That was more than what he could say about most archnemeses. Of course, they still hated each other, or had hated each other, but there’s a very special kind of hate for an archnemesis. Sure, you’re against everything they stand for and they could say the same of you, but you just sort of clicked together and, on special occasions, could almost be like friends. Friends who hate each other, sure, but still. “Couldn’t get the same theatrics from Molerat, now could I?” That, and somehow, the idea of the Professor fighting someone else the same way the two of them fought made him uneasy. He’d almost say jealous, but that’d be ridiculous. Possessive, even more ridiculous.

But not unaccurate in either case, not entirely. Ajax chuckled inwardly at the thought. “Ugh, don’t even speak his name to me, Captain. He is the worst. He threw dirt at everyone at our last Villain League dinner party.” “Oh? Do I have a competition for my rivalry?” Ajax joked. He did his best to sound casual, but honestly he really hoped not. Sure, probably not, he trusted the Professor at least that much, but, well, still. He was too tired for this.

The Professor put his hand to his chest, miming a scandalized expression. “Why of course not, Captain. Besides, didn’t I just say you’d ruined me for anyone else?” Ajax laughed, before trying to get back into character to finish the joke. “A filthy liar like you’d say anything to fool me, Professor. How can I trust a word out of your mouth?” The Professor gasped, trying to hide a grin. “How could you say such a thing? I’d never lie! Not to you, Captain, never to you.” Ajax made a show of softening his expression. “Oh, Professor, you know I didn’t mean such harsh words. My rage got the better of me again. I know you’ve been faithful.” They both burst out laughing. “Well, I don’t know what that was, but that was fun.” The Professor said, miming wiping a tear from his eye.

“I think it counts as improv. Hey, wasn’t I about to go to sleep?” “Oh, I suppose you were. Still, there’s only an hour left before we get rescued. Is that enough time to sleep?” “Enough time to try, at least.” Ajax yawned and stretched his arms- difficult, due to the cramped nature of the space, only narrowly missing the Professor- and leaned into the corner of the elevator. He shut his eyes.

Next thing he knew, the elevator was moving. They reached their floor. “Haha, yes!” Ajax pumped his fist excitedly, tired as he was. He stood up, slowly, stretching his legs. The Professor stood up as well, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Ready to go to your job interview, Captain?” “Eat sh-” Ajax cut himself off, suddenly remembering they were in an office workspace he’d been about to apply to. “Language!” The Professor gasped again in mock scandal.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, what were you here for? I know I was here for the job interview, but were you? Or do you work here?” “Oh, I work here. I was on my way to my cubicle. But, as it’s past midnight and no fault of mine I wasn’t able to get anything done, I’m just going to go home.” “Yeah, that seems reasonable. If you were anyone else, I’d tell you to be careful, shady stuff happens to people who walk around the city after dark.” “But you wouldn’t tell me? I’m wounded, Captain. Do you not care about my health?” “Somehow, Professor, I don’t think you’re in any danger from anything shady this city has to offer. Most dastardly villain and all. You’re practically half the shady stuff that goes on after dark, no?” “No, actually. I’m usually at home after dark, and at this time of night I’d be asleep. With very few exceptions for very special schemes.”

“Fair enough,” Ajax conceded. They walked together, talking all the while, until they reached the doors.

“Good night,” The Professor said, smiling.

“See you tomorrow, maybe?” Ajax offered.

“Oh, I dunno. None of my proper evil schemes will be ready by then.” “Aw, that’s a shame. See you when your schemes are ready, then.” “Oh, I might think of something for tomorrow. Maybe I’ll rob a bank, that’s a classic.” “I look forward to stopping you.” And he honestly did. Ajax grinned, not entirely intentionally.

“See you then. Be careful, by the way. I heard shady stuff happens to people who walk alone at night after dark...” The Professor said, cryptically.

“Ha, ha.”

And so, the two of them parted ways. They’d both agreed to never speak of the incident to anyone, and Ajax trusted that neither would.

#i tried my hand at writing romance!#concrit welcome #this is my first time posting any of my longer writings btw #im new to the scene #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #fiction #superhero fiction #enemies to lovers #creative writing #implied romance #part 1(?)

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ziloufs · 7 years

Text

The slipperiest country

Summary: Dan and Phil in Greece.

Fluffy, fluff of that time, like 3 months ago or something, where dan and phil went to Greece, and we got some prime flirting between phil and tom daley, plus a vv soft boy, ~~Shirtless~~ dan.

Rating: M (just some spicy mouth to mouth)

Word count: 3370

Read on ao3

AN: finally, after sitting on this pile of trash for 3 months I’ve curated it into something presentable. Im trying to work on my writing, and am working towards making a multi-chaptered fic. (a rlly long one)

Living so close to the mediterranean had its perks, a single plane could fly straight to a beautiful, culture rich country. Blue water, different people, new sights, new sounds. Nothing in Greece was grey and bleak. Dan and phil were looking forward to their “mini couple’s holiday”.

It had been a few weeks of preparation to get ahead of schedule on videos, but phil was working towards something he was definitely going to enjoy. A private vacation with dan; bryony and wirrow would be there too, but having them around was almost second nature; it was going to be a comfortable trip. It was Dan who first proposed the idea of Greece, and unbeknownst to phil, he and Bryony had already started planning things over coffee last week.

“Bry, it’s gonna be great, we can take a private boat out or something, and then take a tour of the coast.” Dan said through a bite of biscotti. He held the bitten end to gesticulate the rest of his sentence. “And, since you get off work for 5 days next week--”

“It’d be brilliant! We can both take our men on a romantic getaway, away from the grey of London and into the blue of Santorini .” Bryony exclaimed, a grandiose tone in her voice.

Dan grimaced at the label, ‘romantic getaway’, but then started up with laughter. Bry joined in.

“A Romantic getaway indeed... but yeah, i’ll have to check with Phil, as I haven’t exactly told him yet.”

Bryony quirked an eyebrow.

“So this trip is just a ploy for us both to go to Greece alone, and find some hot mediterranean lads?”

This time Dan didn’t grimace. He sputtered out his coffee.

A week later they had all their videos queued, bags packed —that was a lie, Dan still hadn’t put his stuff in order, much to Phil’s dismay —and were getting ready for the early wakeup. Phil was in his pajamas, shirtless, messily combing fingers through his hair. All the while, Dan was admiring the way his back flexed and the smooth outlines of his body. They were way past the point of normal-bedtimes-for-a-six-am-wake-up, but then again, every bedtime for them was at an ungodly hour. Dan tugged at the sheets, crawling under the ten layers of fabric Phil called, “bed spreading”.

“I can’t wait to see you all shirtless tomorrow.” Dan hummed, watching Phil make his way to the bed, sporting a poignant quiff.

“I’m wearing nothing right now though?”

“Yeah, but tomorrow, it’ll be us, and the sun —plus you’ll be wearing those new swimming trunks I bought you.”

Phil made a sour expression.

“You mean the ones that I hate, because they’re too tight on my ass?”

“Yes.” Dan smirked, turning over to Phil who was reaching over to the bedside table. He snuck his hand under the duvet and groped Phil's butt.

“I mean, the trunks are fine, it’s your fault for having a big butt.”

If Dan decided to be a responsible adult, he would go to sleep. But everything was different when he had a Phil in his bed. Phil turned over to face him, fully offended. Dan gave him a peck on the lips to compensate.

“Oi! We have an early start tomorrow.” Phil grabbed dan’s hand. He didn’t want to feel like death in the morning, but fooling around with dan was getting the best of him. Maybe it was the pre-holiday excitement, or the fact that they worked their asses off for the entire last week, minimal intimacy, but Phil was slowly giving way to his desires. Dan dragged a hand up Phil's chest, and tapped it twice along his collar bones.

“Early start, early shmart Philly, I have a better bedtime remedy. Better than scrolling through twitter mentions for half an hour.” Dan cooed. He moved in closer to whisper against Phil's neck. God, it was late and Dan was really warm against him. “And it might involve my mouth.” Phil shivered. Dan looked up at him with soft eyes, his cheeks were blooming. It was still nice to be flirty and coy, even after all this time. The suggestive tones, and the playful groping were apart of the wonderful structure of their relationship. He loved Dan so damn much.

Phil pulled Dan onto himself, and grinned. “Show me then?”

_______________________________________

“Fuck.”

“We slept in.”

“ and I-- I didn’t pack yet.”

“DANnnnnnn!”

_______________________________________

They suffered the consequences of last nights activities, but in Phil’s opinion, (and Dan's by proxy) it was worth it. Last night was the bread basket to his three course meal. Dan was going to be his dinner, and Greece was the chef special; Phil immediately grimaced at the metaphor

Rushing to the taxi, they had only 45 minutes before boarding started, and the airport was 20 minutes away. Phil was feverishly calculating numbers and minutes when they threw all their stuff into the cab. Luckily, they planned on meeting Bryony and Wirrow at Heathrow and would convene in the lobby. Approximately five iphone checks later, 23 minutes had gone by, and dan and phil were bumbling out of the cab. Right near the doors to the lobby, Bry and wirrow were sat on a bench.

“Boys! Where were you?! Wirrow and I have been here for half an hour, and we bought you some coffee, but it’s probably gone cold.”

“You were also the ones who invited us, remember?” Wirrow chimned in.

“Well we uh--” Phil started.

“--I didn’t pack till this morning.” Dan said sheepishly. Bryony shook her head, and hugged them both nonetheless.

“Still glad you actually made it though.” She said. “Knowing you two, it's a miracle you guys arrive on time.”

Dan and phil were getting shit, but honestly, they deserved it. Again Phil thought, totally worth it.

_______________________________________

Contrary to popular belief, they weren't going to fly in business class —especially not with Phil in charge of their budget. It was once Phil who said, “it would be a mockery to purchase more leg room for a 2 hour flight”.

Then, it was nice sometimes. Squeezing into a plane seat, granted with anonymity around other passengers. Phil was able reach for his hand, and it would be hidden within the confines of their seat. These little moments of touch reminded him of who he was, and what he had. He felt lucky.

An hour into the flight, Phil looked up from his laptop, and glanced at dan. He was gazing out of the window. The sky was glowing, and the sun was starting to rise; Dan was very nice to look at. And, if it wasn't for that fact that he didn’t want to disturb Dan’s bubble of serenity, Phil would’ve reached out and pet one of his curls. Dan felt eyes on him. After being around someone for eight years, their little behaviors tended to be routinely. While still staring out into the bright sunrise, Dan blindly reached for phil’s thigh and rested his palm on the warm jean fabric. Phil snuck a look around the passenger cabin, it was habit. Most people were sleeping, others watching films, or gazing out the window much like Dan. Satisfied with the setting, Phil leant close to Dan’s cheek, and gave him a slow kiss. It was risky, but no one had seen and even if they did, the morning-drunkenness would’ve made them second guess their perception.

The kiss intensified the feeling. After breaking away and giving dan another glance, he looked intoxicating now: messy untamed curls, long dark eyelashes, and a face illuminated by the golden sunrise. Without hesitation he kissed him again, and when he pulled back, a little moist patch appeared on Dan’s peach-soft skin.

“What was that for?” Dan turned away from the window, his eyes flitting across the cabin. Dan stopped blushing at unexpected kisses years ago, but sometimes, Phil would catch him at a vulnerable moment, where he would be sleepy, or deep in thought. This was one of those times.

“You looked pretty.” Phil stated plainly. Somehow, in those three words, his tone reflected the illustrious descriptions in his mind. “And now you’re blushing.”

Dan was too tired to make a smart remark, so he just looked away from Phil’s stare, and let his hand on Phil’s thigh, rub softly back and forth.

“Can’t wait to get to the hotel.” Dan sighed. “I want more now, wanna kiss your neck.” He lowered his tone, and now it felt like anyone could listen in if they wanted to. Dan gave a yawn, and leaned back into his seat. Him and Phil had loads of time —that was one of the benefits of having forever with somebody— but sometimes, ‘soon’, or ‘later’ was too long a wait.

“We could go to the toilets?” Phil offered.

Dan practically snorted.

“Youre joking right? I love you, but I thought this thing we had going on, was like, going to be romantic or something.”

“Daniel howell, a romantic!?” Phil guffawed.

“Shut up, you know I’m a sap, plus our legs are too long and spindly to be pretzeled up in a plane’s toilets.”

Phil closed his eyes and rested his head against dan’s shoulder. He hummed in agreement.

_______________________________________

“Bry and I may have gone a little over-board with the accommodation, but…” Dan started.

“So you decided to book a beach-side house with a private pool!? .… and, oh my god! is that a garden terrace?” Wirrow rushed over to the neatly trimmed shrubbery and delicate pink orchids. The four of them wandered the outer property in awe. For a couple days, this was a pretty elaborate set-up.

“And the house comes with two master bedrooms, they’re on opposite sides of the house.” Bryony added. “So you know what that means…”

Phil turned a blind eye, and Dan just groaned. Wirrow was still preoccupied with the somewhat amazing landscaping that had been done to the terrace.

“Bry shut up!” Dan laughed, rushing towards the back entrance of the house. “I’ll lock you out!”

(This “threat” provided the bulk of their exercise on that trip: who could make it to the door first.)

_______________________________________

The first day had been eventful. Touring the local shops, taking a half day boat trip on the coast (which in turn provided some quality cannonball “diving” videos for Phil) and finally, mimosa’s by the pool during the sunset. Both couple’s were situated on the reclined patio chairs, Bryony lying in between Wirrow's legs, and two chairs pushed right next to each other for Phil and Dan. The sky was clear, making a perfect warm gradient of colour and the temperature was dropping, the fleeting warmth of the grecian sun washing over the terrace one last time. They all sipped their fruity beverages in silence; it had been a hot energetic day, now it was cooling, and they could wind-down like respectable adults —that being with an alcoholic beverage, and the one they loved most. As the sun left its final brilliant glow, disappearing beyond the horizon, Bryony and Wirrow stood up with their empty glasses.

“We’re gonna head inside, I won’t lock you guys out, but, I make no promises.” Wirrow said, a slightly drunk and giggling Bryony behind him. Phil looked at Dan, and then to Wirrow.

“That’s okay if you lock us out, I have dan to keep me warm.” Phil leant over the chairs and lazily pulled Dan into his grip. He peppered kisses on his cheek.

“Babe, we better leave them to their own devices, Phil is drunk drunk.” Bryony giggled.

Through the intimate onslaught of Phil, Dan looked up in bemusement.

“Right, and you aren’t?”

“Were not as drunk as you too —On sickening amounts of love, that is.” She sneered. Wirrow laughed in agreement.

“Night guys, Use protection!” they yelled from the house and in turn, Dan gave the finger in the direction of the door. So, maybe Dan wanted to make-out with boyfriend during twilight. The others had gone inside and it was too dark to make out full figures anyways. Their activities were going to stay deliciously ambiguous.

“I love being here with you right now.” Phil was kissing Dan’s neck with him on his lap.

“Mmm, the entire boat ride I wanted to rip those shorts off of you. I don’t even care that they cost £40--”

Phil paused his ministrations on Dan’s neck, and looked at him wide-eyed.

“Dan!”

This guy, Dan thought.

“What? Also, I didn’t say stop.”

“You’re lucky I’m kind of drunk, and a little bit turned on right now.” Phil threatened, resuming the spot on Dan’s neck where he was sucking the skin lightly. They had five days, enough time for a hickey to fade, as long as he didn’t suck any--

“Harder, Phil.” Dan was really enjoying this, plus he could always wear a scarf.

Everything felt slow and wonderful, even the biting evening air was making their radius of heat, hotter. Dan dragged his fingers through Phil’s sea-water dried hair, and gently guided his face away from his neck.

“My turn.” Dan mirrored phils previous actions, while slowly dragging up Phil’s shirt. The cool night air was making everything stiff.

“Ahh it’s too cold Dan.” He whined, watching as dan pushed his shirt up to his chin, fully exposing his chest and nipples. They were definitely hard, the breeze was light, but any stimulation was enough really.

“Let me try something, and then we can go inside, yeah?” Dan asked. Phil acquiesced, then leaned in for another hot mouthed kiss. Dan ducked his head down to the pink rounds of phil’s nipples, kissing around one, and nipping playfully at the skin. Right against Phil’s chest, he could feel his buzzing heartbeat, and contracting breaths. Hopefully Bry or Wirrow didn’t decide to look out of their window tonight.

“Ahhh, too much, Dan,” Phil felt sensory numb, but he didn’t want it to stop. “We should...go...uhhh.. inside.” he said again, through broken whimpers.

With a mouthful of Phil, Dan feigned ignorance, and instead moved to his other nipple, treating it as equally rough as the last. Phil was a moaning mess.

“Now you’re just being rude, stop teasing.” Phil started.

Dan stopped and looked up at phil with wide eyes and a sultry look. His lips were swollen and slick —truly a sight to see. Even through the haziness of sex, Phil was still keen enough to admire Dan’s mussed up hair, and shining red lips.

“I want this , like right now, but not outside.” Phil chuckled, reaching out to Dan’s eager face and brushing his fingers across his mouth. He let the tip of his index finger slide beyond his lips, and Dan accepted it and sucked. It wasn’t for any particular reason, besides fulfilling his infatuation with Dan’s mouth. Dan hopped off Phil's lap and grabbed his wrist, attempting to help him up from the lawn chair. The chair caught on Phil's foot and resulted in him tripping right into Dan’s arms.

“I didn't think I could actually sweep you of your feet.” He exclaimed, while Phil was just barely holding on, clinging weakly to Dan’s shoulders.

“Fuck...you.” He muttered.

“Yeah, but we have to go inside first. You wanted to, remember?” Dan was snickering, and curving an arm around Phil's waist to lead him to the door.

“I hate you.”

“--Hate you too philly.”

Phil ducked his head to hide his grin.

_______________________________________

That was essentially how the rest of their trip went. Hot skin on skin. New freckles each day. Alcohol by the poolside and banter with friends. It was tranquility.

By the fourth day, phil was approaching poached lobster, peppered with spots, while Dan was insistently pestering him that he needed some sort of night-skin-mask, along with the “spf 200”, unless he “wanted to shed his skin in a horrible sun-frying accident.”

“Why don’t we try this one phil? Argan oil, vitamin E and… soy.” Dan offered, sifting through the entire shelf of various creams and ointments meant to aide burns on the whitest of the white. “You know, I read somewhere that soy cures burns or something, I mean it said--”

“Can’t we just get aloe? That’s good, and like, traditional.” He picked up a green bottle filled with the gelatinous plant product. “And I’m making you massage it in!”

“Fine phil.” Dan said, nudging him in the shoulder. It was a ploy for a free massage wasn’t it, Dan thought to himself.

_______________________________________

“Y’know I heard somewhere that guys use aloe as ‘male enhancement’.” Phil said nonchalantly, as Dan squeezed the first few globs of aloe vera onto his back. They were in their room at the “villa”, situated on the luxurious white bed sheets that were soon to be dirtied.

“And why were you looking up dick size remedies?” Dan asked, spreading the gel around the most burnt part of phil’s back; the irritation was intensely bright red, and if Dan wasn’t so invested in Phil’s answer, he might have found the colour comical.

“You know I wasn’t!” Phil exclaimed, “I just went on an internet tangent, and may have seen some videos I regret.”

“Flip over I need your chest.” Dan motioned with his hands for Phil to roll. “And of course you weren’t. I’m sure this definitely wasn’t your way to get me to use aloe to wank you off.”

Phil tried to hide a blush. Dan stopped rubbing circles on his chest.

“Wait, you-- you’re not serious are you?”

“...Thats why I wanted to get it at the store,” Phil shied away. “And it’s basically lube.”

Dan moved from sitting back on his heels, to sitting over phil’s thighs, and wiped the excess aloe onto phil’s stomach. He leaned down chest to chest with phil and looked up at him.

“Babe, this is honestly not the weirdest thing we’ve done for sex.” Dan sympathized. Phil just blinked, yet his blush was maintaining. “--Besides, I thought you’d be a bit more jaded to this whole ‘let’s talk about our kinks’ thing.”

“Hey, I am too.” Phil brought his hand to rest in Dan’s curls.

“Right…. Your face is as red as your back.” Dan plopped a kiss of either of Phil’s cheeks.“-- very cute.”

“Just get the aloe.” Phil murmured, lifting his head ever so slightly to meet Dan’s lips. Dan laughed through the kiss.

_______________________________________

It was time to go home, and Dan was hanging upside down on their bed, Phil was across the room, shirtless. From a blurry view, Dan was squinting hard to count the freckles on phils back. He got to 52 before Phil interrupted him.

“Why are you hanging there in silence?”

“Procrastinating.”

“--Leaving this place you mean?”

Dan sighed, and by Phils standards, slid awkwardly out of his position on the bed.

“It’s just, when we go back, we’re going to have to do more work.”

“But it’s our new place, it’ll be nice to go home. ” Phil wandered over to Dan’s space, and put a hand on his shoulder. Dan brought him into a hug and spoke into his shoulder.

“Yeah, but you’re going to be wearing a shirt all the time now.” They swayed quietly in this dancing embrace for a little moment longer, till Phil broke away and planted a kiss on Dan’s forehead. They were looking at each other, enjoy the closeness. Dan leant up to Phil and kissed the corner of his mouth, and then squarely on the lips. He was being a bit petulant, but he really didn’t want to leave.

“As soon as we get home, i’ll do a strip show just for you.” Phil smiled, patting a hand on Dan’s shoulder.

“Phillllll.” dan whined. “I feel like I should be laughing at the idea of you doing a stripshow, but that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Who’ve you been hanging around?”

“Only you.”

He kissed Dan hard.

“Whoa, what was that for?” Dan stepped back from the intensity of the kiss.

“I just remembered that I love you.”

“Philip Lester, a romantic?!” Dan giggled, throwing Phil’s own words right back at him.

"You know I'm a sap." He loved Dan so damn much.

#fanfiction #phanfiction #fanfic #dan and phil #greece #daniel howell #phil lester #amazingphil #danisnotonfire #fluff #fic #spicy #mouth to mouth #hehehe #I am not a smut professional so there isn't anything crazy guys #vacation #my works #phan

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wearethewalkingdeadimagines · 7 years

Text

Chasing Cars - Carl Grimes

Request: could you do a Carl Grimes imagine where its 7x1 and the reader gets picked at the lineup and its based off of the song Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol?

Warning(s): the reader death, swearing, major angst (IAM SO SORRY)

Authors Note: im cryin this was too much im getting Greys Anatomy flashbacks

words in bold are the song lyrics and words in italics are flashbacks. this might get confusing, but i tried my best to mark everything.

we’ll do it all

everything

on our own.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” Negan paused in front of you, the barbed wire bat coming dangerously close to your face.Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up through the strands of hair that fell in your face. You heard Carl also breath out heavily from beside you.

Carl meant something big to you, you two had been best friends since the beginning. You two grew up together, you watched each other grow up ever since you and your family showed up at the Atlanta Camp. It was almost yesterday that the two of you met, you remember it so vividly.

“Whats your name?” The boy asked as he walked up to you. He looked to be your age, he had blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean, and his hair was a dark blonde color. He had a slight grin on his face as he looked at you in the eyes.

“Y/N L/N,” you mumbled to the boy, clutching onto your moms arm, but she brushed you off. She wanted you to make some friends.

“I’m Carl, Carl Grimes,” he replied back to you, reaching out his hand for you to shake it.

Hesitantly, you reached out a clutched onto his, moving it up and down in a shaking motion before retracting your hand back as he did too.

“Nice to meet you Y/N, I bet we can become great friends.”

we don’t need

anything

or anyone

“Whats your name?” Negan asked abruptly, leaning down and placing his finger under your chin and lifting it up.

“Don’t touch her!” Carl screamed from next to you.

Negan looked over at Carl and then back at you with a smirk on his face. He started to laugh, it was a mockery laugh. He ran this show, he could do whatever he wanted, you knew that Carl needed to shut up or Negan would hurt both of you.

“Oh, you two are a thing aren’t you? I get it, don’t want me popping her cherry so you can do it, I get it, I get it,” Negan started,”but I think she could be a good edition to my collection, my wives I mean.” Negan looked at Carl and swung it at his face jokingly. “I forgot that you don’t scare easily, I was just trying to scare ya.”

“Just please, don’t hurt her please, shes a lady, you cant do that,” Carl pleaded, his tone was softer this time so that he didn't anger the man with the barbed wire baseball bat.

“Who said i was going to hurt her?” Negan asked Carl in a cocky tone.

You were sitting in the more secluded area of the Prison Yard, it was darker now because the sun had gone down. You thought that everyone had gone to sleep, but you were wrong. Soon enough, you heard footsteps coming your way.

On instinct without even thinking, you took your knife out of your belt and held it in the direction where the footsteps were coming from.

“Woah, who said I was going to hurt you?” A kids voice asked, making you relax once yo realized that it was Carl. So, you shrugged and laid back down on the ground, looking up at the stars. Surprisingly, he laid back down next to you and looked at the stars.

“They’re so pretty,” he mumbled softly after about five minutes, “it makes me forget that walkers own the world now.”

“The walkers don’t own the world, there’s still a chance that the human race could come back from this,” you said, though your tone wasn't very convincing. You just needed to be hopeful, and you needed to make sure that everyone else was hopeful too. Because without hope you knew that you were most likely going to die in this world. And the last thing you wanted to do was die.

You were too young to die, you were only about 13. This world was cruel, throwing humans into basically an apocalyptic world with no escape or no lead on where to go. You didn't even really know your age, the only thing you knew is that you were 10 when this happened, and it had to be at least three years since this happened. It has been three years since your parents died.

“They do though, they are the dominant race now,” Carl said from beside you.

Suddenly tears were welling up in your eyes, you didn't know where they were coming from. Carl must've looked over at you because he leaned up and wiped them away with his hand.

“Hey, whats wrong Y/N?” He asked.

“I just don’t want to die like my parents, I don’t want to die Carl,” it was cheesy and you probably sounding like a wimp, though you had to say it. You had been keeping it in for such a long time that it was basically threatening to pour it out.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you Y/N, I promise,” Carl said.

------

if i lay here

if i just lay here

would you lie with me

and just forget the world?

Tears were falling down your face but you didn't have Carl or anyone to wipe them away from your face. You just let them fall, making sure that Negan didn't see that you were crying too much.

Negans hand came down and wiped one tear away from one side and then did the other side with the same motion.

“I said don’t touch her!” Carl screamed again, struggling to get out of one of Negans mens hands.

“Boy! I swear I will kill you if you keep screaming at me like that!” Negan screamed back.

“Don’t kill him, if you're going to kill someone, kill me,” you said to Negan. It was the first thing that you ever said to the man Negan, and you really hoped that it wasn't going to be your last.

Negan pretended to look shocked as he leaned down to look at you in the face, he gasped as he lifted your chin up again.

“If you say so, I have to kill someone anyway and I think that lover boys lover would be the greatest first choice.”

------

forget what we’re told

before we get too old.

show me a garden

that’s bursting into life.

“C’mon Y/N, we wont be gone long,” Carl said, helping you get up onto the guard tower in Alexandria. It was very steep, and reminded you of the towers at the prison.

“Okay, I just don’t want to get into trouble,” you stated, looking out the window and smiling at the sight, it was beautiful.

Carls hand went to your waist and spun you around. The smile on your face didn't fade and you looked up at him, nearing closer as you put your hand on his chest.

“You know I love you right Y/N?” He asked, putting his forehead on yours. It was such a simple gesture but it really did show his love for you, and you couldn't have been happier.

“Yes Carl, and I love you too,” you leaned up and kissed him softly.

-------

You didn't have time to react when Negans bat was hit right into the side of your face, there was a ringing in your ears. You heard people gasping, though you couldn't see very well either. Pain enveloped you, it was all you could feel

“Go to hell,” you mumbled, feeling another hit to the head. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see some of your hair and blood that had been seeping out of your head.

“No! Y/N!” Carls voice screamed. “Y/N! I love you! I love you Y/N! Ill see you again, i swear to it!”

“Aww how cute,” Negans head bashed into your head again and you were thrusted into a sea of darkness, you couldn't hear Carls voice anymore as you took your last breath.

------

“I swear i wont let anything happen to you Y/N, this Negan man wont do anything to you or us,” Carl said.

lets waste time

chasing cars

around our heads.

if i lay here

if i just lay here

would you lie with me

and just forget the world?

#why do i do this to myself #im crying #fuck this was intense #carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl x reader #reader insert #The Walking Dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead imagines #imagine #im gonna cry #im gonna go cry now

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seekingwonders · 8 years

Text

okay im a fckng attention seeker but the way i wrote the full moon in this fic makes me so happy here it is in its completely unedited since i first wrote it & un-beta-ed glory. content warning for vomiting, suicidal tendencies, and all that full moon fun stuff.

good job 2014!em

He had been wrong to fear Charms but right to think sitting down for two hours twice in the same afternoon would mess with his knees, his back, his neck and somehow, his wrist. He hadn’t even been writing.

“Can you help cutting that off?” Remus absently asked Peter as they sat down, again, this time for dinner. “And my right knee.”

“Sure, push up your sleeve a little.”

Remus yelped when the knife brushed to his skin.

“Sorry, Moony. Sensitive?”

“Yeah. Fucking burns. Don’t know what I’ve done to it.”

He left his left arm to die next to him, helping himself to his other one to rest his head on and wait it out. There was nothing else to do, anyway. Nothing that would change what would happen tonight. He’d eat food in a bit, just to have something in his stomach to throw back up as the moon rose but that was the extent of relief he could bring his body. (...)

“Evening Mister Lupin.”

“Evening.”

Remus paced to the other side of the room before Madam Pomfrey was done greeting his friends with reproaches to have walked him here despite her multiple warnings not to. In the background of his fast beating heart, his friends gave her every excuses and soon were making her laugh.

“How are you feeling, Mister Lupin?”

“Fine.”

“What’s this on your wrist?”

“Ice.”

“Right, good thinking. Will you need anything for the wait?”

“No.”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes then.”

“Ok.”

“So is it a snow night, then?”

Remus only understood he was spoken to at Peter’s third repeat. “What?”

“Want to go by the snow patch?”

“Don’t care.”

“We should go by the Really Big Tree.”

“Really fucking stupid name,” Remus contributed when he touched the wall by them, and went back toward the other side of the room.

“There are fairies there.”

He heard James roll his eyes at Sirius’ sulky tone. “We’ll let you eat the fairies. Perhaps Moony’ll help too.”

Remus’ stomach heaved at the thought. He stopped his ritual to take a deep breath. He wasn’t about to vomit before the Full. He was absolutely not letting his body do that.

“Joking, Remus. We’ll just fool around by the Really Big Tree and then come back by the snow patches.”

Remus came to the bed, sorry to have to sit in it before the three next days but not chancing anymore pacing.

“Do you mind…” He gestured toward the door and them as a whole.

“Sure. We’ll see you in a bit.”

“It’ll go well, Moony,” James assured, stopping to ruffle his sweaty curls. “Think snow!”

“I’ll think snow,” Remus mumbled back as he watched them cross the door. (...)

Remus laid back on the bed, ignoring the heat, ignoring the joints he would inflame, the bones he would break, ignoring that this was only the beginning of the sharp claws coming at him. (...)

“Would you like me to massage your hands?” Sirius asked, same soothing voice he used on his brother’s whims.

“No,” Remus sharply said, closing his eyes to escape anyone’s discomfort but his own. “Thanks. No, it’s fine.”

“You should keep pacing. That usually helps you.”

“No,” he said, and schooled his tone again: “I almost puked. I’d rather not.”

“Is there anything you would like me to do?”

“No.”

“May I touch you?”

Remus silently repeated to himself that whenever Sirius did leave with their friends, when Remus was alone, Remus did miss him. For some reason.

“This hand doesn’t hurt. Yet.”

To forego Remus’ unhelpfulness, Sirius sat down by him, Remus’ hand gently nested between his.

“Pomfrey is going to come back.”

“She knows, Remus.”

“What? No, she doesn’t.”

“She does.”

“Since when?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps since I asked her which healer group she would recommend we support.”

“What for?”

When Remus looked, Sirius had dubious grey eyes to show him. “The cure.”

“Oh. Right. Financed by the Blacks. Your great aunt would be pissed.”

“It was my thirteenth’s birthday present.”

Remus snorted. He shook his head, damning his own discomfort not to feel like kissing the lips of the boy by his side.

“Thanks.”

“Mm,” Sirius only said.

“I don’t want to do it.”

Remus let the silence stress the impossibility Sirius could do anything about that.

“I’m not even asking for a cure.” He took a breath. “I just wish I could skip the one.”

“We’ll find a cure.”

“I don’t care about the cure.”

He turned to Sirius’ side to put his lips to his, feeling them dry over Sirius’ skin and hopping there was any pleasure at all for Sirius even if there were none for him.

“Can I do anything?” Sirius asked after another stretch of impossible quiet.

“Just give me something silver and we’ll be done with it.”

Sirius did exactly what Remus always wanted him here for. He didn’t ask for Remus to cheer up.

Sirius stayed by him.

He stayed by Remus until Madam Pomfrey came back. He stayed by Remus through the dreaded walk in empty passageways and was still there when she opened the door of Remus’ cage.

“I don’t want to do it,” Remus said. He rushed to hold onto Sirius, hold him tighter, forgetting what Pomfrey knew or didn’t. “I don’t want to do it.”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Sirius whispered to his ear, his soothing hands on Remus’ back. “I won’t leave for long.”

Remus shook his head, gripping Sirius’ shoulders. “I don’t want to. Please.”

“Mister Lupin, we have to go. The moon will be up in less than ten minutes.”

“Please, please, please-”

“You won’t be alone. We’ll all be with you. It won’t hurt as much.”

“It still hurts.” Remus’ voice broke. “I don’t want to.”

“Mister Black-”

“Leave. I’ll stay a little more.”

“Lord Black there’s nothing else we can do. Remus, be reasonable. You can’t ask anyone to stay with you. You know that.”

Remus hated that tone. That tone had told the same thing to him as a boy begging for his mother. That tone only wanted to protect itself.

“Leave,” Sirius repeated, colder, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“You are under my responsibility as a student, I am not leaving you here.”

Remus took another breath of the scent that had kept him calm, the scent he would forever associate with the safety of Sirius’ arms. The scent the wolf didn’t know.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice wavering, “go. Go. I’ll… I’ll be okay. Go, go, go,”

“I’ll be there, Remus, in just a moment.”

Remus unwrapped his arms like they weighted a ton each, backing away from Sirius to find a wall to put his back against. He slipped down against it, bringing his knees to himself and burying his head down.

“Go,” he begged.

Remus never remembered them leaving.

To be fair, he never remembered them coming in and he never remembered the night.

His body was pure agony from start to finish. And then some.

Her palm – he knew Madam Pomfrey’s hand like the religious knew their salvation, her palm against his fingertips. He didn’t tap to it. He didn’t move. He hated having to move. Since his friends changed to be with him, he didn’t have to signal furious pains anymore.

But it still hurt.

It still wasn’t fair.

Her presence – like his mother’s, never leaving, always coming back to him for small adjustments to his aching existence.

He wished she would always feed him by that spell down his throat that kept him from malnourishment and puking both at once. But she never did. She always insisted on one less dose of potion, and one less, and one less until Remus woke up.

Remus always woke up to another month to get through.

Remus never wanted to wake up.

Twelve hours later on the dot, she started with his eyes. She dimmed the lights to a shadow atmosphere and slipped the tissue off.

He always thought to fight it, to refuse this second cycle of torture. But her palm rested against his fingertips and Remus opened his eyes.

She smiled.

He threw up.

The process went like this: whatever she did next to bring him back to life, his body rejected it in violent contractions from his stomach to his mouth.

His nose was always the last sense she gave him back but he could still taste it on his tongue, the blood willing Remus to die.

“Good morning.”

In the dark, with most of his senses numbed, Remus relied on the muscle memory telling him whose lips were kissing the ring finger of his left hand.

“I’ve given you your necklace back. We’ve had a great Full. How are you feeling?”

“Evening, Remus. Guess how fast James fell asleep? He didn’t even make it to Care. He found an armour to fall into, this time. Great fun. You’ll be sorry you’ve missed it. I’ve drawn you a picture.”

“I need about ten thousand naps, Moony. D’you think Pomfrey will flip if I sneak in with you?” James’ voice. Welcome for a second in the silence of the infirmary, and then the sense that he was moving around making Remus yearn for being able to do this so easily.

“She probably will, James.” Peter’s voice. Strained. He usually was the first to get back on his feet after a night of what was for them animagi fun. But still. So much magic wasted to keep Remus company.

“I think you can find a way to convince her, actually.” Sirius.

“Like what?” James, perking up at the idea of mischief.

“Impress me.” Sirius.

“Make it at a Sunday practice and I’ll try it, Padfoot.” James, no more tired, all challenge.

“I’ve already told you I’m not waking up early on Sundays. Besides you need to sleep some day of the week.” Sirius.

“Ugh… don’t talk about sleeping. I need sleep. I need so much sleep.” James, whining yet still moving, moving.

“Go back to the dorm, then.” Peter, rolling his eyes. Probably looking back to Remus to meet his eyes and share the mockery.

“Wormtail! I, James Horus Potter, leaving Moony? Me? How do you think Moony would feel!” James, still so much energy, still so full of life.

“I don’t think he’s awake yet.” Peter, bored, some. If it wasn’t for them getting out of Remus that he did hear on the second day, even if it seemed like he didn’t, Peter wouldn’t have bothered talking to a corpse.

Remus remembers so much from hearing on second days. No one else knows he can.

“Mm…” Sirius.

“That alpaca wool looks sooo comfortable…” James, childish voice, childish needs.

“Isn’t that new?” Peter, perking up at the idea of something to talk about that isn’t a corpse.

“There was a study done this summer that alpaca wool had some weight to it that felt good to healing patients.” Sirius.

“Can I just roll myself in it?” James, looking for mischief.

“I’m sure Moony wouldn’t mind.” Peter, looking for entertainment.

“I think he would, James.” Sirius.

“Neither of you are fun. Moony? Remus?” James, relentless.

“No one’s home.” Peter, helpless.

“Fuck… And even if he wakes up, he’ll keep falling back asleep, anyway.” James, fighting the urge to give up.

“I’m sure Remus won’t take offence if you go back to the dorm, James.” Sirius.

“He might. What would you say then, James? Sorry I needed sleep more than I wanted to keep company to my recovering best friend?” Peter, finally entertained.

“I hate you Peter, I hate you so much.” James, still refusing to let Remus rot.

“Go to sleep, James. I’ll stay a moment.” Sirius.

Sirius applied his hand to his fingertips; the soft brush of his ring finally sending familiar signals to Remus’ nerves of something that wasn’t pain.

“Madam Pomfrey will be done with her diner in a few minutes. Would you like me to stay the night?” Remus didn’t move. “Does that mean you would like me to stay but won’t ask me?”

Remus tapped his middle finger to Sirius’ palm, not minding if the thought of flipping Sirius off was lost in the translation.

“She let us in because she believed you would start speaking to us. You’re three hours late in her book.”

He wished Sirius would move his hand in his, let him feel the softness of his skin over the sensitive tip of his fingers. He wished that and that Sirius would leave him well alone.

“James asked if you had mistakenly cut your tongue. She wasn’t amused.”

There was a shift in the room, the sweet taste of magic in Remus’ next open-mouthed breath. Sirius’ hand left his and found him again, this time brushing his fingers to Remus’ palm. Remus tried to shake his head, to tell Sirius not to stay close, to take his hands off. But first he vomited against the shiver.

“I was just thinking it had been long since you’d done this.”

After his ears were freed from the magical wax, Pomfrey waited three hours to check he could handle the smells. Often, she had to wait three hours more for Remus to stop vomiting.

This time was not an exception.

Remus watched the sunset in the flowing shadows of his closed curtains. The second day was over. One to go. Until the next month.

“Mister Lupin if you would talk to me.”

When he was little, there was a second part to that sentence. Sweets, often promises of travelling, sometimes whole holidays to Rome if he was a good boy. But at seventeen, the sentence was an order without gain.

“Thank you.”

Remus watched the sternness fawn from her mouth. “Good. You’re very welcome. On a scale of one to ten, how would you say you feel?”

“Five.”

“Leaning toward six?”

“Just five.”

“Good. Well, shall we start with solids today, then?”

Remus looked at her good demeanour, no-nonsense voice, that gentle smile ready to pat him on the head. And still all she ever did was to assist the pain, hand in hand with it yet never asking Remus like the healers had, would you rather die, boy.

“Sure.”

She didn’t ask that question nor did she relent with the potions or give in with coaxing Remus into doing always something more. He had barely stopped heaving when Peter and Sirius visited again.

“Did we miss the fun part?”

Remus lifted his numb hand to flip Peter off. He let it fall back down and turned his head away from them.

“James fell asleep in Transfig. McGonagall was not impressed at. All.”

Finally Peter gave in, wishing him a good night. Sirius’ hand was in his before Peter had crossed the door. Remus held onto the ring Sirius was brushing on the tip of his fingers. He drew over the crow of the Black seal, enjoying how weird the edges felt under his drugged fingers.

“I’ve missed you.”

Remus raised unconvinced eyebrows. “I haven’t missed me.”

“Would you like some water?”

“No.” He sighed, feeling the breath but not its effects. “I’m fine.”

“Would you like to come back to the dorm after you stop taking that last potion?”

“What?”

“I’ve talked to Madam Pomfrey. She thinks you could if you wanted to.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Would you like me to stay until then?”

“No. No, actually. Do you mind if…”

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Sirius’ nod. “I’ll come back in the morning.”

“If I can go up to the dorm, there’s no need, really.”

“Well, then. May I… I’ll let you rest.”

“Hey,” Remus sighed as Sirius’ hand left him. “I’d like a kiss, too.”

Sirius smiled, leaning to lightly peck his lips. Remus gave what he hoped looked like a smile and not like he would have liked cutting off every part of himself that did not conform to the numbness.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.”

The door closed, leaving him to wonder why Sirius hadn’t stayed.

#wolfstar #i swear this fic isn't all angst it's just that well #full moon y'know #i can also post a bit about lily & remus friendship

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libidomechanica · 5 years

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Untitled (“Of you”)

Of you taken in woe! A youth: but tragedy is not my fair is thigh almost not, thou place. Who told me that with hold how everything of birds sing. S peering steed— my strange of long its heardgroomes: and both the

stars grow base: in think on the child; and, oh, the boys: the Gods large Neptunus supreme authority falls with Florian, my beloved that like two widowd wife; I sue not eternal,

infinite braine emperished my head of Proserpine, and the lady in that wild and uttered from its prison gate; and the grown; now from the storms have led her elfin ground the welkin

pitched it down under anthems that far away come to a tempting form, that spoil among them both become. — Thus while upon what a theological state, hang in my chamber gainst the charm to his Secresy;

stirrd not a sign, by two breast the roofs, and sighed to wrongs that wisdom, I shall not dead, my father floor, can mingle elm-tree bright hour when to tell truth, whose bodies gan to gathered brookside grew, and

before so much ones own bow, can charm of women, calling place, these effects, to fulfils defect, communing with Dians wing. Hard by all men grown; now head upon the ministrings made proffer in

the vigorous joys in time; with the mountains of destruct me: I sought him hurryingly the price of myrrh, upon what she countenance in spring, mutual arms long line bore it in them.

Beats with great broader-grown the infinite brain divine. Fair Scylla and sky: this fatal work of painful toil, increasing furrow? Of our books were live a good youth, and straightway pass fleet as yet in

hand as I glide a sunbows arc above the laws of height of Heavens. I tell it apart, when I seem a mockery to this deuise: the country he is a sudden from the

tree in the left me die! are thee ere I had done and on growne maintaining the smell too nearer out Is the turtle is hostess for all with sweet eyes Boatmans dream. for thou the host movd on

first sunrise. Only one bear twins her breath, which made this kindly am serve the golden Autumn sky, and thousand. Enaunter his houses, light, and storm, and all the haire, without your

brain. But when on a morning glanced after a stocke: seest, howe brag yond Bullocke beare cherefull beare cherefully sheep-fold, so vanishd fairly; and the lineaments of men your owling on to tell the night thee

my rest for a tansy let us pay, Corage accoied, darken to unknown to qualify. the new born again among the disaligned. Thy two breast more, and thereon could no more; with

the truth, hers by the harvest, thy lodger; ive servd my face without her own to gathering into his Lip went forward worth gives the voice—I feel myself still bite my thigh almost contagious game: hiding

hedges, and it hard, and make a swimming pool at noon: for these sight? And dawdling, and meek that thro the devil has sufficient love-salute was sloping thing, she saw Menalcas come, for still he

pleasures are for the angry witch. Dwelt among us, willing, glances broken means more interwove their Strength, nor the palaces! Olympus! Over the Seventh month became here is of a deserve

their parks some of clock the cedar gloomy morn, white and all heed— for Time, sit side wings, and admire my wandering hedges, and through the perilous bustle; while sometimes the nipple and griefe. The

two dewdrops of puissance; and, and things high spires, yet so warm, she knew what substance of that I am aweary, say Im waiting already stand I feel things Thing, And gracious symphonies, lovely. and turbans. more

joyful than all kinds of a pomegranate. Till she herself, and men, who move toward me. With lamplike each in you in thats that beats your hair are far over- silver, and the adulterate pair.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #121 texts

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superblyjovialtheorist-blog · 6 years

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What is the average cost for motorcycle insurance in ..Alabama for a 21 yea old rider?

"What is the average cost for motorcycle insurance in ..Alabama for a 21 yea old rider?

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