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shiny-jr · 2 years ago

Note

can I ask whole alphabet with lillia vanrouge? Maybe imposter au?

Warning: Yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Lilia Vanrouge.

Note: By imposter au, I'm going to assume you mean they have sentience. So the imposter au but without the imposter part. I've kind of been trying to keep it so that there would be no difference, no matter the au. It's a little difficult, but I'm managing.

Letters: A - Z

✂ Affection. How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

✄ When you asked the universe for someone who would love you, you didn’t expect the universe to toss you a short enigmatic being that’s thousands of years old and may or may not have committed war crimes, someone who dresses like an edgy teenager and has the same interests as one, who also recently decided to try and blend in with young mages at a school. And yet here you are, now trapped with this crazy(?) old bat.

✄ Lilia is a naturally caring figure. After all, he has cared for several people in his lengthy lifetime. This ancient fae is one of the most open with his feelings and plentiful in his affection. He just thinks you're simply to die for! You’re so endearing and adorable that he constantly finds himself cooing over you. Kisses, hugs, and other gestures of affection are fairly common. He enjoys surprising you this way. Pressing a big kiss against your cheek suddenly so your face heats up in embarrassment, surprising you with a hug as he appears seemingly out of nowhere, a fleeting whisper and giggle by your ear when he’s no where in sight. He loves to take in all your expressions and reactions, and besides he can’t help but tease you a teensy bit.

✄ He doesn’t get worried much, but he does concern himself with your needs and wants. Although he isn’t tripping over himself to follow out your every will, he does quickly and efficiently complete your requests. He’s not desperate, particularly violent, or rash, but he’s obsessive and a little delusional. Perhaps that’s the worst part. He isn’t tiring himself out just to see you smile, he doesn’t lash out, but he’s just utterly fascinated by you. He truly believes he’s doing what’s best for you. Words can’t describe his strange form of love directed at you. He’s an enigma. Sometimes it’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking or feeling. He doesn’t ever become cross at you, he treats you almost like a child that can do no wrong. But maybe that’s precisely what you are in his twisted vision. A precious youngster he must care for, whether you want his love or not.

✂ Blood. How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

✄ Extremely. Let’s not forget that despite his youthful appearance, this is an ancient fae we’re talking about. He’s witnessed countless deaths, catastrophes, and wars, his hands are stained and would be overflowing with enough red to drown him. He’s a decorated veteran who's fought in many battles. Lilia can go from taking on and easily defeating a group of attackers, and in just ten seconds he’s back by your side to force convince you to lay your head on his lap and rest.

✄ However, he won’t kill just to kill. He’s both strong and intelligent, so he can easily ward off any enemies with words alone. Besides, he doesn’t actually want to end a life if he doesn’t have to. He can very easily kill any troublesome people that try to interfere in affairs solely between you and him, but death isn’t needed. It’s more of a last resort, which is never needed since Lilia always gets rid of the problem one way or another. Instead, he’ll usually resort to warnings that sound vaguely threatening. Lilia will casually bring something up, a weakness of his enemy, when warning them. Something like: It would truly be a shame if your signifiant other were to discover you went missing. Believe me, I know, the thought of losing an irreplaceable loved one is simply unbearable. I’m sure you wouldn't put your own beloved in such a situation, would you~?

✂ Cruelty. How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

✄ There’s a 50/50 chance that you would be kidnapped, and it’s a thing that happens on a whim. If you are abducted, well, now that your officially under his care (he was determined to make this happen, preferably when you agreed to the idea), you’ll be treated like a princess/prince. You didn’t even know it was possible for him to become more affectionate and teasing. Lilia has raised and watched his own fair share of youths, so no matter how you behave, he’s prepared. He won’t ever mock you. There’s no need to feel ashamed or frightened, this is for your own good, you know.

✄ Don’t be so sad, he’ll wipe your tears away as he comforts you in your sorrow. Is this truly so bad? You’re not alone, you now have him. You also have the others he raised, Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, to keep you company and protect you whenever he’s away. This is your home now, and he’ll be your family.

✂ Darling. Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

This one isn’t really that big of a deal. Having Lilia around is every so slightly vexing. He tends to mess around with you a lot. It’s never enough to the point of frustrating you or making you angry, but it is tiring and even a bit annoying. It seems that he’s always trying to catch your attention in the oddest of ways, it’s practically become a game for him at this point. Even if you try so hard to ignore him, you simply can’t. He won’t let you. He just wants to bask in your attention, so why not get it with a little fun? You can’t ignore him when he appears out of nowhere, right in front of you of all places. His big deep red eyes gazing up at you with an eager twinkle in them, and since he’s so close you can’t help but notice the little fangs on his smug grin.

✂ Exposed. How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

✄ Sometimes, there will be moments where you think you figured this fae out. You may try to predict his behavior, words, or actions, only for him to do something completely unexpected. It’s like he knows, he knows that you’re trying to piece him together but he doesn’t let you, only making it harder for you to figure him out. At times you truly do believe you understand him, especially when he’s been particularly soft, like when he’s fixing your hair or humming to you. He’s genuine, he makes himself vulnerable for you but it’s as if he goes back to this unpredictable mystery as soon as you decide to end the moment. Just how much is genuine? Does he even bare his heart to you? These are all questions you’ve yet to get an answer to.

✂ Fight. How would they feel if their darling fought back?

✄ Entertained, actually. When you try to fight back, argue, or do anything of the sort, he listens attentively with this smile on his face that almost feels mocking. It becomes clear that he’s hanging onto your every word, carefully watching your every move. It’s as if he’s listening to a child throw a tantrum, a kid crying over spilt milk. Still, he waits patiently until you’ve finished and he applauds your efforts! It’s humiliating, it makes you feel as if you were truly nothing by a baby whining, but these are important matters! This was your freedom you were talking about! He’ll then pat your head and smile as he asks: My my, you certainly had a lot to say and a lot of feelings bottled up, dear. Did you get everything off your chest? Was it fun? Are you calm now? There’s truly no winning this.

✂ Game. Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

✄ Oh, no, no, of course it’s not a game...! Initially, at least. Well, it can become a game with enough provocation and insisting on leaving. Really, he tries so hard to make it comfortable for you here, he was beginning to believe that perhaps you were starting to settle in nicely, only for that not to be the case. But if this is the way you want it to be, so be it. He’ll play along until you tire yourself out and willingly return to him. Lilia will allow you to make escape attempts, just to see how your mind works and where the flaws (that allow you to get closer to escaping) he must fix are. Then when you believe you’re so close to achieving freedom, he appears to return you home, squashing your hope. You may have thought you were close to winning, but Lilia was carefully monitoring you the entire time. So truthfully, you were never once close to the freedom you desired.

✂ Hell. What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

✄ Lilia treats you gently and he cares for you greatly, even if he is bothersome at times, he always means well. It seems like he’s never ever angry, not even when you act up against him. But he is to be feared, even though you know in your mind that he would rather stab himself than actually physically hurt you. But let’s remember, you are his dearest, no one else. Perhaps your worst experience with him, failed escape attempts and irksome teasing aside, was catching a glimpse of the violence he was capable. Again, he would never even think of lifting a blade or casting a spell against you! But others? If he must, they will not be spared.

✄ Lilia had left you in the care of Sebek and Silver while Malleus kept you company. Silver was relatively understanding and easy to sneak away from given his habit of sleeping, plus he tended to trust you a bit more. Sebek was harder to shake off, but when Malleus had taken his leave for a moment, Sebek was determined to follow. You knew by now that escape was useless, especially since Lilia would be back any moment now. However, there was something you wanted to see. Both Lilia and Malleus had warned you to not check the orb today, a magical crystal ball the ancient fae had gifted you so you could see him whenever you missed him (like that would happen). But for the first time, you were tempted to use it to satisfy your curiosity. Now that Silver was peacefully dozing off, and Sebek with Malleus were out of the room, it was the perfect opportunity to check the crystal ball. Carefully approaching it, you stared at your reflection before murmuring, show me Lilia. And just like that, you saw him in the orb. All you saw was red on his fists as he stood over the figure of a stranger that lay still in an unnatural position, before a hand from behind you quickly enveloped the orb, blocking you from seeing the rest. It caused you to jump, the sight you saw for a split second making you feel dread. The hand had belonged to Malleus, and he merely gazed down at you while speaking, “Understand that a being like him who’s lived for many millennia and has done many deeds in his lifetime, will have enemies. Enemies that will find out about you and kill you if given the chance, as you are his weakness and you cannot defend yourself. So for your own sake and his, listen the next time he instructs you to do something.”

✂ Ideals. What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

✄ A peaceful simple kind of life is all he wants. In his eyes, it will be short due to the fact that you're human and he’s fae, he knows that, and it kills him. But he tries to live in the moment, the way he’s always lived. So he doesn’t think too much of the future. Although nothing would make him happier than seeing you learn to accept him with all his strangeness and begin to get along with those he had a hand in raising. If you could get along with his son Silver, learn to tolerate Sebek with that prideful nature of his, and even become friends with prince Malleus, then he would be satisfied.

✄ After that...? He’s not sure what he’ll do after. He doesn’t even want to think about it. He doesn’t want to force tortuous forbidden spells on you that would destroy your humanity in exchange to let you live longer, but at the same time he hates the thought of a world without you. There are legends and stories of reincarnation... perhaps he’d dedicate all his time and effort into finding you again.

✂ Jealousy. Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

✄ No, actually, which may not be that surprising. In fact, you’ve never seen the ancient fae get jealous before. Lilia is confident in himself. He’s also a bit showy, so even in the public eye, he won’t hesitate to nestle into your side and have your arm around his shoulder or float behind you with his arms wrapped around your neck like a scarf as he nearly hangs off you. It’s clear that he’s trying to signal that he’s yours and vice versa, and it’s especially obvious judging by his self-satisfied grin.

✂ Kisses. How do they act around or with their darling?

✄ Playful and doting. When you are present, his toothy smile will be constant and he becomes a bit more mischievous. He’ll keep up appearances in public... sort of. Not really though, unless you insist. But it incredibly obvious that he’s involved with you, as if the close lingering touches and the innocent batting of his eyelashes he gives you aren’t signs enough. In private, it’s as if his affection increases even more. He’ll urge you to sit on his lap as he games on his pc; when he has his face against the crook of your neck and you least expect it, he’ll blow raspberries just to startle you or make you laugh; or in more peaceful times he’ll simply hold you in his arms as he talks about anything and everything.

✂ Love letters. How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

✄ Honestly, you probably should have seen this coming from a mile away, before the romantic gestures there were pink/red flags. After all, sometimes this fae has no filter, he just speaks his mind. There was always something he’d say that was off, too many compliments, but you simply brushed them off as him being kind. That is until the letters began arriving. See, Lilia is old, and he’ll admit that he greatly prefers courting through the traditional manner. Actually, it helps him gain your attention, because who doesn’t appreciate bouquets of flowers, long letters sealed with sweet smelling wax, and his attempts at serenading you by screeching singing a song he practiced in his club? It’s probably safe to say that you were intrigued by his attempts, and perhaps even interested in reciprocating. You needn’t know about the darker details of his growing obsession with you. This is all going so well! This is where the 50/50 chance of kidnapping you or maintaining a seemingly normal (as normal as it is to date an ancient being) relationship comes into play.

✂ Mask. Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

✄ No, actually. The Lilia everyone else knows is the same Lilia you know, except you see him as far more affectionate. He has nothing to hide. At least, that’s what he says, but he’s still a mystery to you and most everyone else. Anyways, the only time he may act different, is if someone is a real threat to you. This can’t just be anyone, it takes someone powerful for him to take on this frightening persona, and you won’t see how quickly he goes from cooing over you to plotting this enemy’s death and where to hide the body.

✂ Naughty. How would they punish their darling?

✄ Punish you? No, no, no! Come now, he wouldn’t to that.

✂ Oppression. How many rights would they take away from their darling?

✄ He wouldn’t. I mean, he could, he most certainly could limit your freedom, but he wants to give you the benefit of the doubt. Besides, it’s not like you can get very far anyways, whether he be there or it be the others. Please, believe him, he truly only wants the best for you. He doesn’t want to upset you, so he won’t risk it by taking away your rights. He’s seen how people have withered without certain rights and freedoms, and he doesn’t want that for you. The most he’ll do as punishment, is lecture you.

✂ Patience. How patient are they with their darling?

✄ Very. Extremely. His level of patience must be as long as his life, it’s astounding. No matter what you do or what you say, he won’t ever snap. In fact, he only continues to smile at your pathetic efforts, which makes you begin to lose your temper. There is nothing you can do that will cause his patience to dwindle. You aren’t sure if he has the patience of a saint or if he’s just keeping face so you won’t win, but you’re starting to think that the answers leans more towards the former. It seems that he almost knows what you’re thinking when you wonder if it’s a calm facade of some sort, and his content little smile turns to somewhat taunting. As if daring you to try and get him to crack. It felt as if his eyes were telling you: Go ahead, tire yourself out, it’ll be cute to see you try~

✂ Quit. If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

✄ Escape? Not happening. Leaving? He won’t let you. But death? Death is practically certain. It’s almost guaranteed that Lilia will outlive you. He’ll mourn like anyone else would, but then he’ll quickly wipe his tears and get to work. What’s he doing? Why, trying to find you again, of course! He never particularly believed in or paid attention to the stories of reincarnation in the past, but now he’s researching endlessly. To him it doesn’t feel like you’re truly gone, it just feels like you’re on a lengthy vacation and he’ll see you again soon. The thought of reuniting again fills him with such joy, it makes his heart throb just like it used to when you began exchanging love letters. The reminder that perhaps you’re out there somewhere again, is enough to keep him going until he finds you.

✂ Regret. Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

✄ No, he feels no remorse. This was for the best, it was for you. It was necessary, for your wellbeing. Here with him you would be safe, you could be happy too. There is no letting go. He wishes to spend as much time as possible with you, he wants to treasure every single moment and create as many memories with you as humanely possible. Please, grant him this wish.

✂ Stigma. What brought about this side of them?

✄ Like previous times, I’ll answer this one the same. It depends on the au.

✂ Tears. How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

✄ Oh dear, oh dearest, oh darling, don’t cry! Lilia has this unexplainable ability to comfort and calm those around him, whenever he sets his mind to it. You’re no exception. He using his thumb to wipe away your salty tears, and he’s still smiling. It isn’t mocking, but rather, it’s a soft and gentle smile that soothes you. He slowly shakes his head at your state, speaking softly to you. He isn’t teasing you, or mocking you, but he’s genuinely comforting you with kind words of comfort. Using his magic, he got a box of tissues to float closer and a warm cup of your favorite beverage set itself in front of you. Come, tell him what’s caused your sadness. He’s a wise being, so he’ll come up with suitable solutions. There’s always the chance that he caused it, the stress of the sudden change may be too much. If it is, he won’t mind, he’ll simply have to try harder to make this place more homey for you. He’ll simply have to do everything in his power to make you happy here.

✂ Unique. Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

✄ Let’s see... Lilia gives you a lot of freedom, in fact, you have actually freedom. You’re simply being monitored wherever you go and whatever you do. Which is still surprising, considering that he may or may not have kidnapped you. For a yandere, it’s rare for them to be so lenient and forgiving. Especially considering that Lilia’s form of punishment is lecturing.

✂ Vice. What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

✄ Escape? Haha. Funny. Yeah, noooo. But, if you want something you can just ask. If you’d prefer the more roundabout way, you can simply leave little hints lying around. Lilia quickly pieces it together and he catches on swiftly, he’s amused and will give in to practically anything you ask for, except leaving, of course. But anything else? Consider it done and yours.

✂ Wit’s end. Would they ever hurt their darling?

✄ No. Never. As stated before, he’d rather hurt himself than ever hurt you. If he had to choose between causing you a bit of physical pain or give himself ten times that amount of pain you would’ve felt, he’d choose to brace the pain himself every single time.

✂ Xoanon. How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

✄ Lilia adores you. He reveres you like royalty, and you would know. After all, you know how the ancient fae is with the literal prince of the valley. Because Lilia is so well respected in the valley, he’s able to afford luxuries for you. You practically live in the palace, any silly or stupid demand will be carried out, and every day he will always remind you of the love he holds for you. Winning you over is important to him, but your safety and happiness are first and foremost. Once he’s sure you’re somewhere safe and you’re slowly adjusting to the environment, only then will he focus on winning you over.

✂ Yearn. How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

✄ Does not snap. However, the longest he’ll pine after you before resorting to traditional fae kidnapping, is one year at most. Why? Because as mentioned before, he wishes to spend as much time as possible with you. That’s why! Human lives are so short and fragile, so he has to make the most of it!

✂ Zenith. Would they ever break their darling?

✄ Can one be broken with love? Well, maybe, but Lilia won’t break you. He’s much too gentle and careful with you for that. Please, try to understand this fae. He truly loves you like he’s never loved anyone before. It’s an intense and overwhelming sort of love, something he’s never experienced before and he knows is not normal but he can’t resist. You make him happy, and he wants to make you happy. So won’t you learn to accept this old soul and his fantastical odd ways?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere writing #yandere prompts #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #yandere lilia vanrouge

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Text

Douse the Lights

A/N: I have no excuse for this, except I love one (1) Din Djarin and he deserves this and so do we. Enjoy! A little Happy New Year gift from me to you! As always, comments and feedback are welcomed! xx

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only) - oral (m and f receiving), unprotected PiV, choking, degradation, creampie...filth. This is just filth.

STUTTER SOMETHING PROFOUND (PART 2)

THE MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then stop kriffing staring at me.”

“I wasn’t even looking in your direction.”

“You,” with a sharp turn of your head you saw that he wasn’t even near you. Nope. Not at all.

Kriff. Awkward.

“Lothcat got your tongue, Princess?” you’d never seen his face, but Maker, you just knew there was a wicked smirk on it.

“Just mind your own business,” stowing away your clean blasters with a huff, you prayed with all your might that he couldn’t see the flush of warmth on your face or hear the crack in your voice. You hated him. Everything about him.

At least you wanted to; you would have given anything in the galaxy to. It would make constantly being around the Mandalorian that you called your employer a lot easier.

Maybe if you kept repeating it yourself, you would manifest it to become true. That you could hate that annoying, half-witted, tin can.

“Thought that’s what I was doing,” there was the most minute inkling of amusement in his voice as he came over, lithe and silent - ever the hunter. He was at your side in an instant, the warmth of his body contrasting sharply with the cool metal of the beskar as he sent shivers up and down your spine. Along with the low pooling of heat and desire settling in your belly, but you were going to ignore that for now.

Almost as if he knew the effect he had on you, he made it a point to brush a gloved hand over yours as he nudged you to the side to inspect some of the weapons he’d tasked you with cleaning. You had to be quick in order to shut your mouth and keep a small whimper from escaping your lips.

How long had it been since someone last touched you? Maker, it had been….dank farrik. It had been way too long. A simple hand brush - there wasn’t even skin to skin contact - and you felt like a lothcat in heat. You really needed to get...some company and have your frustrations taken out or surely you would explode. There was no way you were to give Mando the satisfaction of knowing the type of hold he seemed to possess over you.

Perhaps once you were out of this more than awkward conversation you could slip out for a few hours and seek some pleasure. The little one had just gone down for a nap a short bit ago, and he was likely to be out for some time. Surely he wouldn’t have a problem for a few hours. Then you could -

“These are still dirty,” was his voice always that rough and low? He had to be doing it on purpose, surely. Before you could contemplate it too much, he took one of the blasters and shoved it back into your hands. Not rough or gentle, but with enough firmness to remind that he was in charge. You looked it over and raised your eyebrows as you inspected it yourself - it was polished to an almost pristine shine, “clean them again. All of them.”

“What the fuck, Mando,” you scoffed with indignation as you rolled your eyes at him, shoving the blaster right into of the black T of his visor. You waved it almost as if to prove your point, “this is clean. I dare you to find a cleaner blaster in this Maker forsaken galaxy.”

He was quick to your grab your wrist, his grip was firm as he kept your hand from moving. You didn’t normally argue with your stoic and mysterious employer, but this was apparently new and uncharted territory. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was a shift between the two of you, something had changed. The tension in the air was palpable, so thick you could cut it with the dullest of knives as you stared back at him.

“Clean it again,” it was a growl that went straight to your cunt as you subconsciously clenched your thighs at the sound. Either this was a one time deal that you would commit to memory or you were going to make it a point to annoy him more often. As he stared you down, he slowly let go of your wrist and pointed at the discarded cleaning rag, “and make sure its actually clean this time.”

“You are the worst,” you tried to retain the little bit of composure that you had remaining as you swiped the blaster back.

“And you are a brat,” brat. Brat. Brat. Brat. Of all the words available in all of the galaxy, he had to choose that one. This was absolutely on purpose. The Mandalorian never did anything without careful planning and calculating the risks. The same could be said with his words; this was all carefully and deliberately chosen. He cocked his head to the side, almost as if trying to gauge your reaction, “but here we are. Get them clean.”

“Or what?” it was a mere pathetic squeak as found yourself almost unable to meet his face.

“Just get it done.”

Without another word he strode away, as silent and dangerous as he was when he first came in. If you were stronger, if you weren’t a weak little fool, you would have looked away and focused on your work.

But no. Not today.

Instead you watched him go, staring shamelessly at his imposing figure as he moved to disappear back into the cockpit to do whatever it was that he did.

Was his ass always that nice? Were those thighs always so strong and sturdy? Was he always so damn broad and wide?

Shit.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” you hissed at yourself as you picked the rag back up and slammed yourself back down on the bench in order to re-clean all the weapons that you had just done. He wanted clean weapons? You’d give him the cleanest blasters he’d ever seen.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Almost an hour had crept by when you’d finished your second round of cleaning. At this point you honestly didn’t care if the Mandalorian deemed the job satisfactory or not. The longer you had ruminated on his words, the more frustrated you became.

Each word, each touch seemed burned into your mind as you let your imagination take over. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about him before. There had been a number of sleepless nights when you imagined it had been his hand between your thighs, his fingers running through your slick folds before they slipped inside of you. On nights when you really couldn't help yourself, you even imagined it was his cock, how he would feel buried to the hilt inside of you. You wondered what he would be like, but something - this day in particular - told that he was big. And he would get the job done.

But it wasn’t going to happen.

Nope. No. Nah. You were just his sidekick little employee that most definitely was not going to act on any impulsive or rash decisions. You might have been a lot of things, including a huge fool in that moment, but you weren’t that stupid. You didn’t need to create some unnecessary strain in your relationship with the stoic warrior or even worse, lose your job and home and be left stranded in a forgotten corner of the galaxy.

Even as you tried to rationalize all the ways in which acting on your impulses was a horrible idea, the frustration and the throbbing between your legs didn't wane. You were getting so desperate and pathetically needy that you sat on the edge of your small bench just at the angle so you could get a little bit of friction on your clit. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

As you rocked back and forth, trying to keep the little mewls and whines from slipping past your lips, you realized you couldn't do this.

You couldn't risk getting caught by the Mandalorian. Oh yes, everything's fine, just getting myself off. Don't worry, I'm super horny because of you. Yeah of course I'd love your cock.

Yeah. Cool, cool, cool. This would never happen.

Just when you before you reached your breaking point and had your hands halfway to your soaked core, you stopped.

"Kriff," you sighed to yourself as you pulled your hand back out and stood up. What the actual fuck had gotten into you? A few commanding words you were completely losing your control. Either you were desperate for a release from something other than your own hand or you craved the mysterious Mandalorian.

Hastily stashing the impeccably clean blasters back into the weapons cache, you discarded the rag as you quickly came up with a plan.

Tiptoeing quietly back to where the little one was sleeping, you sneaked a peek and saw that he was still fast asleep. He wouldn't even notice you were gone - that's what you tried to convince yourself as you delicately touched his soft ears and button nose.

You weren't sure if you were speaking of the Mandalorian or the baby. At this point you really didn't care.

You glanced back at the ladder towards the cockpit, watching almost as if you expected him to come down and catch you sneaking out. Hells, technically he'd know as soon as you left the ship. You scrawled a quick note telling him that you needed a cleaner or something, in your haste you couldn't even remember what you put, and would need to go to the market.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. That was totally plausible, you insisted to calm your own nerves as you slipped on your boots and a cloak before making your final decision to leave. Attempting to be as quiet and subtle as possible, you slowly made your way off the Crest and started scurrying towards the nearby desolate town of Mos Eisley. In reality you looked more like a scrap rat scurrying away from the light than a woman heading into town to find something.

Whatever.

Mos Eisley wasn’t exactly known for its sparkling reputation, and you were sure you could get exactly what you wanted quickly enough. In and out, you thought to yourself as a flush rose in your check, well precisely that. For at least you were hoping.

But the Mandalorian, a seasoned hunter with a reputation for a reason, and didn’t miss a single trick. He was aware of what you were doing before you even left the cargo hold. If he was this frustrated and turned on you by you, his cock hard and straining against the confines of his pants, he was sure you must have been in the same position.

Oh, but he had been close to breaking, just like you. How easy it would have been to seal the hatch to the cockpit and relieve himself of the desire and ache. But no - just like you he had limits and wasn’t about to give in and stroke his hard cock while you were within earshot. No matter times he had imagined it - fucking your mouth or burying himself deep between your luscious heat before pounding you into oblivion, he wasn’t going to give in this easily.

He wasn’t a virgin by any means, but with your little backtalk and the way you had looked at him with those wide doe eyes and pretty pouted lips sure had him feeling like one. The thought of burying himself inside you, to watch as you bounced on his cock with your tits in his face was enough to make up his mind.

One time couldn’t hurt, right? People had casual encounters all the time.Why should this one be any different? If you were willing of course, although judging by how your pupils had dilated with each word from his mouth, had little doubt you felt the same way; but consent of course was key.

And tomorrow? You’d be back to being the same way you had always been.

Hopefully. Maybe. Probably.

Fuck.

This was a bad idea, and the small, sensible part remaining in his brain told him so. But he was too far in, too deep and lost in his own desires to stop himself.

He was watched as you ran away, deciding to wait until you were halfway to Mos Eisley before going after you. He’d take the kid to Pelli, sure she’d more than happy to watch him for the night. The rest? That was to be all consumed by you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The old cantina was dirty, dingy, and smelly. There was no doubt in your mind it must have been at least a decade since it was cleaned, and yet it still remained a hot spot; granted not for those of politer society, but enough to get the job down. You pushed that to the back of your mind as you clambered through the crowd and to the bar, sitting down next to a handsome Zabrak you had spied when you’d walked in. You’d never been with one his kind before, but you’d heard rumors of them, especially when it came to their prowess behind closed doors, and something within you was piqued.

He must have sensed something was up - as soon as you sat down, he motioned for the bartender to come back and bring the two of you a new round.

“You’re new here,” he said gruffly, a dangerous edge to his voice, sharp like a knife as he took one of the luminescent drinks and shoved the other towards you.

Before you could even move to grab your drink or utter so much as a word in response, a hand darted and quickly grabbed your wrist, the grip biting and firm.

“She’s mine,” the words washed over you before you could even turn to look at the Mandalorian. His chest was rising and falling heavy as his visor was trained on your would be companion for the night. A shudder ran up your spine as he pulled you off the stool, the two men glaring at each wordlessly.

He pulled you behind him, storming out of the cantina as the crowds parted at the sight of the gleaming silver beskar. They knew better than to stand in the way of the Mandalorian. You felt like a child being scolded as he refused to acknowledge you, keeping his gaze trained straight as you struggled to keep up with his long strides.

“What the hell, Mando?” your question was an indignant shout as your voice climbed an octave. His grip didn’t waver for a moment as he grunted in his response. Oh, he was mad. Yup. Definitely. You had fucked up.

Any thought of talking back or prodding him further were estopped as you could see him fuming as he dragged your ass back to the Crest.

This was it, you realized. This was the end where he would fire you and send you packing. Of all the places in the galaxy to be stranded, Tatooine was not one of your top destinations. No one to blame but yourself, you reckoned.

Instead you hung your head as he refused to look back, making quick work of opening the cargo hold and shoving you inside. There was something about his touch that was rough, almost sending you falling to your ass, but there was still an odd gentleness.

You stared back at the blank visor in challenge, attempting to figure out what was going on. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he stared back at you. Neither of you were about to get a good read on each other.

“Did you really think it was a good idea to just walk away without saying anything?” his voice was dangerously low as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at you. You opened and closed your mouth a few times as you tried to come up with either a smart response or an excuse but instead of anything coherent, it was a mixture of the two. Great. Now he's going to think you were an idiot on top of everything else.

“I didn’t...just um...doesn’t matter what you...I needed something from the market?” you swallowed the lump on your throat as you dropped your gaze to the floor. He sighed for a moment - heavily - as you’d come to know was his penchant to do.

“You needed something from the market?” it wasn’t a question so much as an accusation.

“Mhmm.”

“What was it?”

“C-cleaner,” you lied. Somehow it sounded better than saying yeah, I really just wanted a quick fuck because you have me feeling some type of way.

“There's a new cleaner right in the cabinet,” he said as you internally groaned. He was right - there was a brand new gleaming bottle on the top shelf. He’d gotten some last week, “or did you conveniently forget that?”

“Umm,” you couldn’t get anything else out as he took a step closer and left minimal distance between your bodies. He reached up and put a hand under your chin, turning your face up to meet his, “uh huh.”

“Uh huh, honey,” his voice warmed you up from inside out as you gave him an innocent look. If he hadn’t known what he was doing earlier, he certainly did now. And he was going to milk every second of it, to push this as far as it would go. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, a subconscious gesture, but not unnoticed by the Mandalorian. His hand slipped from your chin and jaw and slid until he was gently holding your throat. His grip was light, and he was barely squeezing, but Maker, you wished he was, “is that really what you were going to do?”

“Y-yeah,” how much longer were you going to keep up this little facade? You had no clue. But the feel of his hand around your airway, pushing slightly, ever so slightly, had your mind positively reeling.

“Then why did you go to that filthy old cantina?” he leaned closer, his helmet mere inches from your face as you closed your eyes, the blood rushing to your ears as you the heat pooled in your belly, “why were you talking to Zabrak? Did you really think he was going to fuck you? To make you feel good?”

“Mhmm,” you managed to murmur after a few beats of silence as you realized what was happening. This was new, uncharted territory - for the both of you - and if you went any further, there would be no going back. And you - fuck it. Your eyes snapped open as you turned to look into the visor, right where his eyes would be, “needed someone to do it, since you never would.”

And there it was - finally out in the open and hanging thickly between the two of you. All you could ever was a small huff from under the helmet and you were positive he was smirking like a victorious predator.

“Is that what you want, honey?” he asked and you nodded. Give and take and then...it all broke, “get on your knees. Now.”

And you wasted no time sinking onto the cool metal floor, now level with his cock, where you could see the hardness straining against his rough fabric. Shaky fingers worked to hastily pop the button and pull the zipper, but just before you could get to what you wanted, Din roughly grabbed jaw, turning your face up to his, “you take what I give. Yeah?”

“Yes,” you promised, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with each word. But then, with another gentle tap to your chin, he seemed almost...gentle, “Mando?”

“If you don’t want this, just say stop,” he waited for you to nod as you a sense of warmth fluttered over you at his desire for consent, “I will not be gentle, I will not-”

“Give it to me then,” you beamed at him before turning back to his cock and pulling out of his underwear. You almost moaned at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking already; and just as your little fantasies had led you to believe, he was more than adequate.

Spitting into your palm, you took him in your hand, pumping him a few times before licking the head, just small light licks, just enough to tease. Licking a stripe up his shaft, you played with his balls for a moment, earning what you were sure was a small groan from under the helmet. Making it a point to draw it out, you shouldn’t have been surprised when his hand went to the back of your head as he pushed you onto his cock.

A sound of surprise was muffled by his cock as you took all of him into your mouth, doing your best not to gag as he hit the back of your throat and your nose brushed against the soft curls of hair at his base. Your hands slid up his thighs and found purchase on his hips as he began to fuck your mouth. He started slowly at first, almost as if he was afraid to give too much. When you grew accustomed to him, making it a point to hollow your cheeks and suck him as best as you could, he picked up the pace. And it was brutal in all the best ways, spit was starting to run down your chin along with a few tears that had spilled over, but if nothing else, it worked to spur him on.

“Look at you,” he grunted between thrusts as he took in the sight in front of him, “take me so well. Knew your big mouth had to be good for something. Always wanted to fuck that pretty face.”

You hummed in delight as you raked your nails over the exposed slivers of his skin on his hips, golden and delicious and you wanted it all. His thrusts slowly become more erratic and sloppy as he twitched in your mouth. His hand dropped from the back of your head as you took over and put a hand back on his shaft as you worked to finish him off.

Soon enough he did, followed by an almost primal growl as he came, his hot, thick, cum coating your mouth and you eagerly swallowed all that he offered, which unsurprisingly, was a lot. As his breathing slowed down and he slowly came down from the rush of his high, you pulled back from him, looking up at him with innocent eyes and a wicked smile. You cleaned him off, but just as you went to wipe at your mouth, his gloved hand was faster and he collected the spit and cum that had spilled out and pushed it back into your mouth with two fingers. You grabbed his wrist and made a show of sucking his fingers clean, tasting him along with the worn leather of his gloves.

“Good girl,” he praised before hoisting you to your feet, “strip.”

“What about you?” you turned your head to the side, but he shook his head in response. He paused for a moment, almost as if he was having second thoughts, but just quickly, he whipped off his gloves and tossed them onto the floor before putting a hand on your cheek and stroking it tenderly. You swallowed thickly before nodding and working to pull off your clothes.

First was your shirt, tugging slowly over your chest and tossed down to join the gloves. Your arm went to your back as you tugged off your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders as an almost nervous breath escaped your lips.

“Keep going,” he commanded, eyes trained slowly on you as he drank in the sight of you. You undid your own zipper and pulled your pants and panties down in one fluid motion before kicking them off along with your boots and socks. You’d never felt more vulnerable or exposed in that moment, wanting to cover up but also relishing in the fact that you seemed to have rendered the Mandalorian speechless. He looked you up down, not bothering to hide the fact as he looked at your form, glancing at your soft mound before your breasts and then landing back on your face.

Beckoning for you to come closer with a simple crook of his fingers, you did so, standing directly in front of him. His hand flitted from your cheek and down your body before resting at the apex of your thighs. You gasped lightly in surprise as he dragged his fingers through your soaked folds, coating them in your copious arousal, before chuckling darkly. A hand immediately went to his shoulder as you steadied yourself and tried not to completely lose it at the simple touch, “all of this for me, honey?”

“Mhmm,” you admitted as he gently rubbed over your clit, teasingly in the slowest, most tantalizing way possible. Before you could stop yourself you blurted out, “always think about you. Always get so wet.”

He made a small, noncommittal sound as he pulled his fingers away from your wetness and brought them to your lips. He tapped your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, sucked his fingers clean from your own arousal, “I’ve thought about fucking you too. That mouth, that pussy. You’re such a brat, but you drive me crazy.”

“I like when you get mad,” you said as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, “‘s sexy.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice deeper and lower than ever before, and you felt your knees start to buckle at the sheer sex it exuded, He brought his large, warm hands to your tits, touching over your pebbled nipples as you bit back a moan. While you wished it his mouth on them instead, this touch was just as well, as he massaged them, trying to get a good feel of them and seeing what drew out those sweet mewls from you. But before you could enjoy it too much, one hand gripped your waist like a vice and the other went between your legs. He ran his thick fingers through your folds, before slowly inserting one into your wet heat. You moaned as he slowly inserted another and then a third, stuffing you full and already having you seeing stars in no time, “make yourself cum.”

“What?” your eyes snapped open as he stilled his actions, “you’re joking, right?”

“Nope,” he popped the p loudly as he lightly teased your clit, eyes boring into yours, “you act like a brat and you want to cum? You have to work for it.”

“You can’t be serious,” you groaned as he moved to pull his hand away, as if to show you just how serious he was. This time, you caught his wrist and held him in place. He chuckled lightly in triumph as one of your hands returned to his shoulder for balance and the other went to play with your sensitive bundle of nerves. He held completely still, a practiced and patient man, as he made you work for it. He wasn’t kidding by any means when he said he would not be gentle.

He remained quiet, watching your pretty face shift through a range of expressions as you worked to reach your own high. He was glad for the helmet, for if you had been watching him, you’d have seen the tinge of pink rising in his cheeks as the sight of you fucking yourself on his fingers. He’d envisioned this many times, no doubt about that, but he’d never thought it would become a reality. Maker, you were gorgeous as you thrust onto his hand using him for your own pleasure a string of gentle filth spilled from your lips as you rubbed slow circles onto your clit.

“Mandooo,” it was soft as you felt that familiar blinding haze start to take over you, and your toes involuntarily curled and your cunt started to clench around his fingers. Your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure as your vision turned blurry and that familiar warmth started to spread all over your limbs. He felt his cock twitch from where he had tucked himself back in after you’d pleasured him. Before you could finish though, something different met your ears.

“Din,” he said as bit your lip in order to keep from crying out completely, “my name is Din.”

And there it was. Completely unexpected and out of the blue. It wasn’t just a name - no it was so much more than it. It was a sign of trust, of closeness, of the fact that whatever this little situation was, it was neither the first or only time something like this would happen. No, your story with Mando may have come to an abrupt end, but your relationship with Din was just beginning.

It was almost as his name, uttered softly and almost unsurely, was exactly what you needed to push you over the edge as you came around his fingers. A soft moan left your lips along with the sweetest sound he was sure he’d ever heard, “Din.”

A merciful man when he chose to be, he took over for you and worked you through your orgasm as you almost collapsed into his arms, “there you are pretty girl. You did so well, fucking yourself on my fingers.”

“Not enough,” you rested your against the soft cowl of his neck as he pulled his hand from you, but not before slapping your ass a few times, almost as if testing to see how far he could push you. You made a few sounds of delight at the sting, only spurring him on as he slapped and then gently needed the ample flesh of your backside, “please, need you to fuck me.”

“Is that what you need, pretty girl?” he purred in your ear as he pulled back and grabbed your face in his hands, taking in the already blissed out expression on your features, “you want me to fuck you? Think you’re ready for my cock?”

“Yes,” you were practically ready to beg at this point, “I’ve been wanting it for so long.”

At your words, he almost dragged you to the small bed that was reserved for you in the corner and motioned for you to sit. You watched with eager eyes as he scrambled for the waistband of his pants and hastily pulled them down and kicked them off, letting them join your discarded clothes. He practically ripped off the rest of the beskar until he was bared in front of you, save for the helmet. His cock was already painfully hard again, standing at attention and leaking fat drops of precum.

“Can I trust you?” he asked as you nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. You’d never questioned the fact that you’d never seen his face or that he apparently just never showed it to anyone. You respected him and his decisions, and you’d never dare to push the envelope or destroy his trust.

“Always,” you promised as he walked over to the wall and hit the switch for lights, cloaking the room in darkness. You sucked in a breath before you heard him shuffling about and the beskar helmet clanged against the metal floor. He stood in front of you, you could feel his breathing as he touched your cheek before wrapping a hand around your throat.

“Hands and knees,” he instructed with a delicious rasp, made even better by the lack of filtering from the vocoder of his helmet, “now.”

The singular word was enough to send a fresh rush of arousal through your veins, as you laid on your belly on the small cot before positioning yourself so your ass was in the air. He shuffled behind you, his large hands grazing over the soft flesh of your ass. He spread your cheeks apart before dragging a thick finger through your soaked folds. A small sound of pleasure rippled through your throat as you clutched onto the thin, scratchy blanket of the bed, “please.”

“Quiet,” it was harsh and biting as the palm of his hand slapped your ass, the sting delicious and leaving you wanting more, “you like that, don’t you? You like being spanked, pretty girl.”

“Only by y-y-you,” before you could say anything, he slapped your ass a few more times before kneading the soft flesh to make sure the sting wasn’t too painful.

Mando - no, Din - shifted his weight and you could feel him line himself up at your entrance. He ran the tip of his cock through your folds. A moan escaped your lips - and his - as he slowly pushed into you, giving you a brief moment to adjust to his considerable size. The stretch was amazing, the slight burn quickly turned into pleasure and you felt full, so completely full. He groaned as he bottomed out, already feeling pussy dumb by the way your velvet walls hugged him, “this - kriff - this pussy is perfect. Just like it was made for me.”

“Din,” you buried your face in your pillow as he pulled out, slowly, before thrusting sharply back into you. He was not lying when he said that he would not be gentle. His large, warm hands went to your hips as he held them in a bruising grip. You were sure you’d bear his marks for days.

He set a bruising pace, thrusting into you with no mercy as he slammed his hips into yours. There was nothing gentle or intimate about, no - this was months and months of pent up frustration and desire coming out all at once. Din was not a talkative man, but as he fucked you into oblivion, he was whispering strings of filth and praise into your ears. All you could do was lie there as he pounded into you, so lost in your own pleasure as you became a whining mess under him.

Before he came, his arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you flush against his chest. One large hand went to play with your breasts as the other went to your clit as he rubbed and circled at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your mouth hung open in a blissful haze as he kept going, pressing kisses into the soft skin of your skin and shoulder, alternating between nipping and sucking and making sure to leave plenty of marks so everyone knew you were his.

“Look at you, pretty girl,” he grunted in your ear, “taking my cock so well. You love this don’t you? Getting used like this.”

“Mhmm,” you bit your lip as he kept going, kept abusing your spent pussy as he started to stutter in his thrusts, “‘m so close, please, wanna come.”

“You’re going to come on my cock,” he commanded as you nodded, “and I’m going to fill you up and make sure you know who you belong to.”

“I’m yours,” you insisted as you felt your walls clench around him and his cock start to twitch, “only yours.”

“Good girl,” he praised as he turned your head to place a rough kiss on your lips. It was the sheer act of the moment and feel of his stubble that sent you over the edge and cumming all over him. You were like jello in his arms as he held you up, giving you a few more thrusts before spilling inside and coating your walls with his cum, “ahh - fuck - so fucking good. Maker, you feel like no other. Perfect pussy - just for me.”

He held you tightly against his body as he caught his breath, the two of you breathing in sync. You thought he might pull away immediately, but instead, he pressed more kisses, chaste compared to your previous actions, down your back as he slowly lowered you onto the bed. You couldn’t even form words as you laid there, cockdumb and already feeling his arousal along with your own dripping onto your thigh.

“You did good,” he praised gently before reaching between your legs and scooping up some of his cum that had started dripping out. You whimpered at the touch, still sensitive, and listened as he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean, “but I’m not done with you yet.”

Din gently flipped you onto your back so you were lying face up and exposed to him. He sat between your legs and slowly spread them apart, admiring his handy work. He leaned back before climbing off the small and getting on his knees, pulling you towards his face. Just as you had gotten on your knees for him, he kneeled only for you.

“Din,” you sighed contentedly as he kissed along your inner thighs, working his way back to your dripping heat. He nuzzled his nose against you, taking a moment to take it all in, “already so much."

"Come on, honey," his voice was like liquid gold as he reached up and touched your breasts, cupping them easily in his large hands, "you've got another one in you. I know you do. Aren't you a good girl?"

"Mhmm," you arched into his touch as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. How this infuriating man got you to become a pile of mush in his hands you'd never know, but you definitely weren't going to question it. He leaned up and kissed your hips before burying his face between your legs, "I'm your good girl."

And with those words, he licked a long stripe up your soaked folds, still soaked from your combined juices. His nose, which you presumed was aquiline in nature, nudged your clit as he ate you like a starving man. You were the shining prize, glimmering in the distance, and he was the wrecked man crossing the desert to get to you.

This time you didn't even bother to hold back as you mewled and cried, tears of pleasure and overstimulation welling up at the corners of your eyes and sliding down your cheeks. Din hummed in content as he licked and suckled at you, making sure to focus on your clit as you came completely undone.

Reaching down, you carded a hand through his locks - curls - as you pressed his face against your aching core. You could practically feel him smirking against you as he slipped a few fingers inside to join his ministrations. Expertly curling his thick fingers, he quickly found the sweet spot that made your toes curls and you see stars.

"Almost there," he grinned as he gave you a moment of reprieve before diving right back in, "I can feel that perfect cunt squeezing around me. Taste so good, pretty girl."

"D-Din," his name falling from your tongue was like pure magic as he became transfixed by how it sounded. Your mouth dropped open in a small O as your legs shook around him. He pulled his fingers from you as he held down your hips in order to keep you from squirming away from him, "feelssogood - makerohstars - Dindindin."

"Come all over my face, pretty girl," his tongue darted into you for a few moments before he gave your clit a harsh suckle. That was all it took before you came again, screwing your eyes shut as he worked your through your orgasm, lapping up every bit of your juices, refusing to waste even a drop, "there you are - taste so fucking good. Perfect."

He was relentless until he was sure you were completely done and a practical ragdoll on the bed. Slowly, he pulled back from you, trailing light kisses up your body, stopping when he got your face. Almost as if he was able to see even in the almost complete darkness, he wiped away your remaining tears. He hesitated for a moment for leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You sighed softly as you rolled onto your side and scooted closer to the wall, making room for him.

It was a big thing you were doing, boundaries had been crossed and blurred and any rules you'd previously had were thrown out the window. Neither of you were sure what came next.

But you did know that you didn't want him to leave - not yet anyway.

"Din?" you asked softly as he pulled the blanket over your spent body; he was surprisingly gentle for a man that had just sent you to heaven and hell and back.

"Yes, pretty girl?"

"Will you stay?" your voice was small as you prepared yourself for defeat and for him to leave.

"Yes," he whispered softly as he slid in under the blanket and next to you, "I'd like that."

"Me too," you admitted as he shifted and pulled you in his arms so you could lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady thump thump of his heart, "Din?"

“Hmm?”

"I'm in charge next time," you smirked lightly as you kissed his soft skin. He inhaled sharply but you could tell he was into it. The man might have just been in charge, but you had a feeling he might like being told what to do as well - and you were going to find out, "I want to ride you."

"Kriff," he groaned under his breath, "You're going to be the death of me, little brat."

"I'll make it worth your while," you promised with a small yawn, "I'll have you crying in no time - begging me for mercy."

“Mhmm.”

“You’re going to be a good boy for me, right?” it was your turn to put your hand on his throat and give it a gentle, but firm squeeze as he stiffened at the feeling, “I know you’re a good boy, Din.”

“Fuck.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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gaytransflint · 4 years ago

Text

@a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives prompted: set in post season 2. Flint lends his largest shirt to Silver while he's recovering inside the cabin. Hurt/Comfort conversation about Silver's pain and discomfort. [tw for internalized ableism ahead]

When Silver wakes he’s quiet, barely conscious. He blinks and feels around the blankets and the bench, as if finding his balance. He groans inquisitively, but asks for nothing. For no one. Flint doesn’t rise from his chair, turning only to see Silver drift back off, hands gripping the hem of his stained shirt. Splotches of blood line his sleeves and waist. Flint makes note and stands from his desk.

The third time Silver wakes, it’s with a harsh start. He shouts and nearly throws his weight over the edge of his bed. Luckily, Flint had moved to rest in the chair by his bedside, resting in the setting sunshine, and catches him before he hits the floor.

“Steady, Silver.” Flint eases him back down. Silver has the look of a child-- an infant, almost: shocked and horrified and looking in every direction for relief. Everything is at the worst state he’s ever experienced and it’s unchanging. Flint can’t imagine the pain. He's unsure if he can.

“How are you feeling?” Flint asks, once Silver is sitting back again. "You were out for a while there."

“I didn’t want this.” Silver says immediately, shaking his head. There isn't just agony to his voice, there's terror. He's afraid it's still real. “I didn’t want this. I told them.”

"Silver, does it hurt-- where does it hurt?” Flint inches forward on his chair, resting his hands on the edge of the window bench.

"I told them I didn't want this." Silver surges upward again, grappling for Flint-- if only to thrust him out of the way. "I told them I didn't."

"Silver, you're okay."

"I told them no." There is a new ache in his voice. The sentence is worn out, but perhaps it's first time being heard. "I told them not to. I said no."

"I know. I know you did." Flint sits back in the chair. "I was informed of the entire ordeal. It must’ve been very horrific for you, I’m sure.”

"Don’t fucking placate me.” Silver snaps, shoving his blankets back.

He exposes his leg and his wound. He gags, but Flint supposes that’s the closest thing to a sob he’ll ever see. Silver places a hand over his chest, steadying his breath. His fingers dig into the collar-- then immediately splay out. Silver looks down at the shirt, holding his arms out. He begins to shudder.

“What happened to my shirt.”

“That one was completely soiled. I couldn’t let you wake in that.” Flint says, folding his hands in his lap. He hopes it establishes his willingness to see Silver through the terror racking his face, crumpling every hardened feature into a startling softness. He’s close to tears, and Flint can tell there is nothing Silver would rather do less than let a single tear break through and fall down his cheek.

“You changed my clothes.” Silver says. “You didn’t ask me. I would’ve said no. You didn’t ask me--”

The anger breaks through and flares out at Flint. He doesn’t move away from Silver, or even begin apologizing. He remains still and watches Silver’s face contort with the rashness of fury and, eventually, grief. It takes Flint a moment to realize it is not just the loss of a leg that Silver mourns, but a certain loss of self-- of being and being heard.

Flint unlaces his fingers and braces both on his knees. “I didn’t consider-- I’m sorry.”

Silver is still feeling the shirt, mindless and numb. Trying to form it against his skin, trying to make it into a second skin. A shelter for himself, or at least what’s unexposed and able to be hidden again.

Flint’s shirt isn’t exactly stark white. It used to be, he knew that much. It had seen its fair share of fights and fear. Flint hopes he isn’t passing any of it on to Silver, but rather a blanket of wisdom Flint himself doesn’t have but wants to offer to his friend in dear need.

Silence isn’t an option.

“How do you feel?”

Silver doesn’t stop feeling the sleeves, fingers finding the small nicked holes along the shoulder. “Awful.”

Flint pauses, but can’t for long. “Okay.”

“Everything hurts.”

“Everything?” Flint sits up, more at attention. He tries to see where it couldn’t possibly be hurting-- where else.

“I think I’ve been set on fire.” Silver mutters, his words sticking in his throat. He clears his throat, although it might’ve been another gag. “I’m burning up-- burning alive, I know it. I know I am.”

Flint hears the truth webbed in his words: once he’s burned, he’ll only be ash. he won’t come back. Flint knows the burn, one currently smoldering embers in the pit of his stomach, waiting for a winded moment of solitude to flare up and engulf him.

“I know it hurts.”

“You know. What the fuck do you know! They’ve carved me up.”

“They saved your life.”

“And I asked them not to!” Silver shouts, finally cracking. His voice quivers and his hands white-knuckle grab at his sleeves. His arms are crossed, holding everything together. “They made me into something. They should’ve left me as I was. Let that man die.”

“They didn’t make you into anything, Silver. They wanted to save the man you are.”

“Are you saying that because it’s true or because that’s what you keep telling yourself?” Silver finally looks Flint in the eye. It’s chilling, despite the fires attempting to eat them both alive, separate and unaware of the other.

“I know the man I see in front of me. He has not changed. And I won’t let him.” Flint makes the promise instinctively, uncaring to how it might sound. He knows of the fire, he knows of the burns it leaves, and is familiar with all the iterations of scars. The ones that fade and only twinge in ghostly aches. The ones that are always open and gushing. The ones that are mortal that can’t be shown beyond the safety of isolation, nursed in, and by, loneliness.

"Another task taken upon yourself without asking.”

Flint clenches his teeth and sighs. “This might be my initiative, but this requires a hell of a lot more from you. You have the say in whether or not this changes you. That fire can burn you, but it’s also only ever fueled by the same source: you. You have to decide if you want to feed that fire for the rest of your days or if you want to extinguish it. Those flames can’t fucking claim you if you tell them no.”

“Sounds a whole lot like making this my fault.” Silver snips.

“Reality has no fault. It just is,”

Flint thinks of Miranda. The reality of her death was instantaneous, though the consequences and effects slow-growing. There is no arguing, no analyzing if he could’ve possibly known of the deadly intervention taken toward her words. Flint could only watch the fire, make sure it didn’t get out of control. Or stoke it and let it consume the very last bit of reserve he’d kept.

Hope is the best gasoline.

"And this reality is one I decided against.” Silver says, his breathing labored again. “What am I now, Flint.”

His name is a sudden sharp edge to his words, nearly slicing Flint apart. It’s now not just about a man and his altered world, It’s about the small world they’d been avoiding, resting between them and hidden in the dark corners of the cabin. Silver assumes it’s been shattered, it’s broken and he’s become a singular, forgotten creature again. That all the fight ahead of him is to be done on his own.

Flint breaks and rests with his elbows on his knees. He reaches for Silver’s arm, gently pulling-- inviting him to open them again.

“What. What do you want from me.” Silver says, shoving his arms down by his sides. Flint grabs Silver’s wrist loosely, settling his own forearm into Silver’s lax hand. “What are you doing.”

“There is a ship full of men that know exactly what--who-- you are, even if you don’t.” Flint says. “I know, and would be more than willing to offer a reminder when it is required. And I am also open to corrections.”

Silver’s hand tightens around Flint’s arm. His fingers spread the fabric of his sleeve taut. He nods slowly-- almost following the rocking of the waves-- before looking out the window beside him.

“Everything hurts, Flint.” He says, words tucked against the window pane. Yet another secret for the room. “Tell me it won’t, at least not forever.”

“The hurt will stop.” Flint says. “It will stop and you will heal. Completely and wholly.”

Silver keeps his eyes on the ocean and nods again. “I’m going to be stupid enough to believe you. Don’t let me down.”

"You have my word.” Flint moves his chair closer to the bench and sits in the same beam of sun as Silver. He softens his grip and moves his thumb back and forth over the pulse point of Silver’s wrist. “And I take it you’ve given me yours.”

Silver nods again, finally heard but without a sound, and leans back on his pillows. The sun is lower on the horizon but just as glaring. It’s a kind heat, a docile fire. It encompasses them both, faces warm and pleasant. The flames are still for a moment. Everything is alive.

[ao3]

#silverflint #john silver #james flint #captain flint #silverflint fics #my fics #writing this one really took me on a ride i hope you like it!!!

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sachirou-senpai · 4 years ago

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Komori boyfriend headcanons.

request: bf komori hcs olease 🥺🥺 - anon

a/n: Do you like my new format? I decided I wanted to try something new.

warnings: fluff, mentions of n*fw and breeding kink. no explicit smut. post is tagged appropriately.

Komori is an absolutely wonderful boyfriend.

He knows exactly how to pay attention to you and be a fantastic boyfriend while also doing things he loves.

He's very vocal about how he expresses his love, so if your love languages are different, you're not feeling upset or unloved.

If you do have different love languages, he'll try to cater to yours. It's very important to him that you feel loved.

It's not that he expects you to do the exact same, but he wants you to show you care about him, in whatever way you're most comfortable. He needs someone to reciprocate.

There aren't a lot of huge relationship surprises, he's big on communication and wants both of you to be 100% on the same page before making any big decisions.

But, that being said, Komori does enjoy surprising you. He'll often leave flowers by your bed, a new stuffie just because, and even surprise dates.

Enjoys taking you places where he can pay attention to you. Dinner/food dates are the most common, where the two of you can sit across from each other and talk and laugh.

He really likes going to the park with you too. He's a big fan of dogs, so it's always a bonus if there's a dog park attached.

He loves watching movies with you, especially if you're cuddling, but he's not a huge fan of making it a date. Feels like there's not enough connection.

Has a way of making sure you always feel beautiful around him and others, he gives the most genuine compliments, you can always tell he really means them. It's in the eyes.

Will call you beautiful in front of other people, he really isn't afraid to show his love for you. Loves taking you places, and always introduces you as his significant other, with some form of praise attached. "Here's my partner, aka the love of my life."

He's kinda cheesy, absolutely not afraid to say the sweetest things just to make your whole face heat up.

Likes to be touching you, too. It's a way to show that he's there for you, but also subtle appreciation for your body.

Loves cuddling with you in bed, on the couch, maybe even on the floor. He loves being chest to chest with you, because then your hearts beat together.

Soft soft kisses. So soft. So sweet. Except when they're not, and then you'll be left absolutely breathless.

Youthful, but not childish. He's almost always smiling, frequently cracking jokes, and laughing, but he rarely does anything rash or impulsive.

He's even levelheaded in arguments- he despises them- because he knows he could let something he doesn't mean slip in the heat of the moment.

Even though he seems like it, Komori isn't perfect, and will make mistakes. He knows when to admit when he's wrong, but he will not submit if he truly believes he's in the right.

Knows how to give you your space, after and argument, and just in general. He's incredibly observant, so he usually just knows when you're not up for socialization, but he's also the type to not get offended in the slightest if you tell him you need to be alone.

Thinks about marriage fairly early on, maybe a year or so into the relationship (depending on how old you two are), but doesn't mention it until he's certain he's ready. Absolutely does not want to rush into something he couldn't put his all into.

He isn't set on getting married, either, but would want to settle into some sort of domestic partnership. Likes and wants to be emotionally and legally connected- but a wedding doesn't have to be the way to do that.

On another note, he is comfortable with any kind of wedding, from any culture. He'd just be very excited to be with you, regardless of how it all goes down. That being said, he would absolutely love a foreign (aka not Japanese) wedding/marriage ceremony.

Loves taking care of you- so if you're sick, you'll be doted on the whole time.

As for N*FW: (Please do not read if you are uncomfortable.)

Dom leaning switch, but he'll honestly do whatever. He really likes providing for you- which is why he likes domming most of the time, but can be incredibly subby if you ask.

Loves to praise you, whether he's domming or subbing. Would never be able to degrade you. The worst be could do was say something along the lines of “My dirty little girl/boy.”

Secretly has a slight thing for breeding, but won't ever bring it up unless you ask/have the right reproductive parts and are ready to have children.

Isn't very rough, but can be a bit harsher if you ask him to, or he's especially pent up. It takes a while tnough- he really doesn't like taking his negative emotions out on you- even if it's just sex.

Overall, Komori is a very caring and loving boyfriend, someone who strives to make you very happy. He wants nothing more than to see you smile every morning, whether you're together or apart, and will do almost anything to make that happen.

masterlist, requesting rules, and taglist form are in my navigation.

reblogging is helpful, pleas consider it!

taglist: @warmbearhugs @beanst0ck @your-local-abyss @oof-she-needs-therapy @tendouthighs @oyasenpai @senkuwu-chan @sugarshoyo @kuroos-babie @keijination @multisun @sstardusty @lilidrawz @bbakougo @samwrights @crocyoota @currentconcern @nekxrizawa @toosaltyforacookie @deadontheinsidebut @mirakeul @sushimii @haikyuuhcz @cosmictooru @prettysetterbaby @kitasluvr @lovelytsumu @maramalademadara @abswrites @janellion @k-tets @nyeom-nyeom

@hoekageyama - honorary komori taglist.

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kaekiro · 4 years ago

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Lest

Pairing: Eren/Mikasa II Rating: T II Words: 3032 II [AO3] Warnings: Mentions of blood and death A/N: In which Eren thinks Mikasa is dead and he doesn’t know how to cope. Instead, he acts a bit aggressively out of despair and frustration. Alternate canon au where EM is 19 yo and are already together.

A few months ago, an AO2 user by the name of Lola left a comment on chapter 49 requesting that I write this! I don't think I've written one of these before, so I took all the pent up angst from the recent manga chapters and dumped it into here 😅 Hope you like it! P.S. I threw in a reference from the Netflix Series Dark! If you know the series, see if you can spot it!

The news didn’t quite register in his mind. He fell out of touch from reality, hoping that this was some kind of nightmare that she’d wake him from, like she always did. The messenger left in a rush soon after the written note was handed off to the Captain, and he felt his body go stiff the moment the paper was lowered and Levi glanced to him, then to Armin. Levi’s eyes betrayed nothing, but he knew deep down that something was wrong. And when his fears were confirmed, his blood froze over, stilling every limb and breath and bodily function for a long moment.

“Mikasa is missing.”

He blinked rapidly, unbelievingly, and he almost wanted to laugh because surely the Captain was just making another bad joke. Mikasa and her going missing is something that did not go together, it was impossible. Unthinkable. He looked to Armin for assurance, expecting him to voice these exact thoughts. But his best friend’s face reflected the anxiety he struggled to repress, and that was when he began to realize the gravity of the situation. Levi wasn’t joking, and Mikasa was missing.

He stood and walked out of the room with firm intent, ready to get his gear together and leave to go find her.

“Eren,” Armin called, following him out of the room, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Eren,” he said more sharply, moving to quickly jump in front of him and block his path. He glared hard, wondering why he wasn’t as eager to help or even join him.

“What?”

“I know what you’re planning. You can’t go out there.”

“And why not?” he challenged, his frustration and impatience flaring. “Mikasa could be hurt and she needs me. She needs us.”

“Or,” Armin began, stepping to block his attempt to get around him, “she could be okay. It takes time for these messages to be delivered. During that time, or even right now, she could’ve already used a flare to signal her and her squad’s location. Or they could have been found by other scouts. This is Mikasa we’re talking about. Have some faith in her. Who knows, she could return here by tomorrow morning after they check her health. Just -- don’t do anything rash. We don’t have the resources to help keep you safe out there. And we don’t need any more people going missing, you of all. ”

He saw reason in what Armin was saying, he truly did. But the sense of alarm did not falter. Instead, it kept nagging and screaming that something was not right. It wasn’t easy, but he stayed quiet and swallowed a whole lot of what he was feeling, knowing and repeating to himself that Armin’s instincts hardly missed their mark. He also knew that he could trust in Mikasa’s abilities, trust in her to come back. He had to focus on that, lest he go insane with worry.

-----

Without waiting to be told, he woke up earlier than his squadmates and began chopping wood outside. The exercise helped burn away the stress he still couldn’t shake off, but the real reason he was out here so early is that he wanted to be the first to greet Mikasa. He pictured lecturing her for scaring him, checking over her injuries himself if she had any. And perhaps, when they were alone, he’d take her in his arms just to feel her’s wrap around him, to prove that she was really okay and that he didn’t need to get as worked up as he is. The thought makes his face warmer but heart lighter. Yeah, he would definitely do that. All he needed to do was wait for her.

Yet, no one showed up that day.

-----

He didn’t mean to do it.

This realization dawns on him when the room falls silent and he feels Jean restraining his arms, sees Armin gazing down at the broken teacup with tears in his eyes.

The liquid that dribbled from the wall and seeped into the floorboards used to be warm. It was the Captain that had heated the tea, suggesting that Sasha bring it up to him as he hadn’t left Mikasa’s room since they all found out the news. Unable to sleep, he was the one a new messenger delivered the news to early in the morning. He should’ve given it to the Captain as it was his message, but desperation took over and before he knew it, he lost complete sense of balance and stumbled until his back met something solid, eyes wide but unseeing as the unfolded paper fell to the ground. Some of the corpses retrieved were scouts that were part of her squad. The mission had transitioned from a search to a recovery effort for Mikasa’s and the others’ bodies. Involuntarily, he recalled what the bodies looked like during the recovery missions he’d been a part of, imagined seeing a bloodied sheet with a tattooed wrist peeking out. He distantly heard a shout of his name as he doubled over and vomited out what little he had in his stomach.

He doesn’t remember when or how he got to her room. But his body was curled on her bed, stiff, unmoving, and to his misfortune, awake. Sasha must’ve known this as she quietly stepped into the room because she offered words of comfort, trying to sound optimistic yet her voice lacked the hope he desperately needed. He didn’t reply to her, did nothing to acknowledge her presence at all and she had in turn understood, whispered her condolences after setting down the steaming cup on the desk, and shut the door behind her. There was a fleeting feeling of guilt in his stomach when he ignored Sasha and let the tea go to waste, but it couldn’t be helped. The only thing that managed to bring him some semblance of consolation was turning further into Mikasa’s pillow and breathing in softly, the pleasant scent of her hair and clothes barely there, but there nonetheless.

Falling asleep had been a slow and painful process for him, his mind and thoughts consumed by worry and memories of her. In his dreams, she was beside him as she’d always been, weakly scolding him about something he didn’t pay any mind to because she was so close and cleaning his cheek with her handkerchief. He wanted nothing more than to grab hold of the front of her jacket, to tug her closer and press his mouth to hers just to see her surprised reaction. But when he did, what he thought was a dream instantly turned into a nightmare. He pulled back to look at her and suddenly found himself kneeling over her body, his hands and her clothes stained with her blood. She tried to tell him something and he knew it was important with how she was clutching onto him, but she could only manage a terrifying mix between a gurgle and cough before the light left her eyes. He shook terribly, would have screamed if the pain hadn’t made it impossible to breathe. Tears fell from his eyes as did promises from his lips, whimpers of I’ll make it right filling the space between them as he clutched the hand that fell from his cloak, his other hand moving to gently close her eyes.

He woke up in a panic then, became even more frightened when Jean and Armin came into his line of sight as they shook him awake.

“Eren!” Jean whispered harshly, “snap out of it! It’s just us!”

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face as Armin helped steady his breathing, both of them taking in lungfuls of air and breathing out slowly, over and over and over. Eventually, with his legs tossed over the edge of her bed, he buried his face in his hands, rubbing furiously at his eyes to try and erase the remnants of his nightmare. Jean and Armin carefully sat on either side of him, offering their presence as he grieved.

“Why did I let her go?” he asked tearfully, to neither of them in particular.

“...Eren,” Armin started slowly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t give up hope just yet. It’s only been a couple of days. There’s no confirmation that…” the last words of his sentence, the ‘she's dead’ remained unspoken, but the three of them were painfully aware of it. Armin continued.

“A-and besides… there was no way you could have known that—”

He startles both his friends when he stands up, grabbing the cup full of tea and smashing it against the wall. He completely ignored the cries of his name and would've swiped the books and sewing kit off Mikasa’s desk if Jean hadn’t forcefully held him back.

“I did know!” he cried, tears dripping from his chin. Armin was telling him to be hopeful, but he knew that tone, knew that it meant that his best friend was assuming the worst, just like him. “From the very beginning, right when the three of us agreed to join the military! I just knew that something like this would happen, and I still let her follow me here!”

The deafening silence that follows is what slowly drags him back to a more sensible state, enough for him to realize what he’s done. He takes in the scene before him, the broken glass, the tears in Armin’s wide eyes, Jean’s hands struggling to keep their grip on his forearms. What would Mikasa think…

His arms go slack at that thought. He wishes she was here to hold his hand like she used to when he was overwhelmed, and tell him that even if things didn’t turn out alright, she’d be right there. Perhaps she was there with him. Even if he couldn’t see her. He never believed in those kinds of things if he was honest, there wasn’t anything to prove it was true. But… there wasn’t anything to prove it was entirely false either.... and the idea that she might be here made him shift entirely. She wouldn’t want him to react this way, yet here he was, making a mess and about to damage her belongings.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, to Armin and Jean, to Mikasa. The hands holding his forearms let go. “I didn’t mean to…”

He sees Armin nod, quickly wiping at his nose. “I’ll get something to pick this up—”

“No.” He reaches for the candle one of them had set on Mikasa’s dresser, using the light to carefully step around the broken glass. “I made this mess, I’ll clean it up.”

“Eren,” Jean says as he clamps a hand on his shoulder. “you look like a pile of shit and you’re not doing well. Let Armin and me handle this.”

He sniffles, looking down. “You forgot to say ‘no offense.’”

“I fully intended to offend you.”

Though he can’t bring himself to smile, Jean acting like a jackass the way they always did with one another helped him a little bit, and it was enough to convince him to agree. When everything was picked up and fixed, they coaxed him to sleep in a different room, reasoning that he’d been in there all day and it’d be better if he was with them, in case of another nightmare. He takes one last look into her bedroom before leaving, an ache spreading within his hands and chest as he remembers sneaking in there late at night a little over a week ago, letting her head rest on his shoulder and arm sling over his abdomen. She was so warm, and the steady rhythm of her breath lulled him to sleep just minutes after laying next to her. He can’t imagine what he wouldn’t give just to be like that, at least one last time.

-----

His eyes feel swollen and uncomfortably dry when he opens them, doing so long enough to notice the unmade sheets on the mattresses and floor, how he was the only one in the room. The morning light becomes too much after a few seconds and he closes them once more, his exhaustion from yesterday making him slump further into the flat pillow. I’m so tired… I wouldn’t mind if I could stay just like this for a while…

He doesn’t know how much time passes but eventually, he feels his hair, outgrown and tangled, being pushed away from his face. The gentle nature of the touch is light but so familiar that he immediately peeks his eyes open, the silhouette blurry but undoubtedly her. His lips curl into a lazy and content smile before they part to say her name, his voice raspy but soft. Bit by bit, his vision clears until he can finally see her small, pretty smile.

“Eren,” she responds evenly, her fingers carefully untangling the lock of hair caught on them. Her other hand is pressed against the floor she’s sitting on, supporting her weight as she leans heavily to one side. What he wants most is to nudge his way over and rest his head on her lap, but he hardly has the energy to keep his eyes open. And the soothing feeling of her movements was not helping at all.

“Why are you on the floor? And not in your bed?”

Not entirely sure himself, he makes a noise that, if anything, only tells how tired he is. She seems to leave the short line of questioning at that, successfully untangling another knot. “Well… you should start waking up so you can eat something before Sasha helps herself.”

A sense of anxiety washes over him for reasons he can’t fully remember at the moment, and he only shakes his head like a stubborn child, burying half his face into the pillow as if it helps make a point. All he knew was that if he listened to her, what has been happening the past couple of nights would happen again; he’d wake up from his dream and she would disappear along with it.

“I don’t want to wake up. I want to stay in this dream,” he says quietly, wistfully, closing his eyes tighter.

“...What?” he hears her ask, feeling her shake her head as she reaches down to touch his face and swipe her thumb across his cheekbone affectionately. “Eren… you’re not dreaming.”

He frowns and he opens an eye to look at her as if she’s said something crazy.

“What do you mean I’m not dreaming?”

“....You’re not dreaming? I don’t know a simpler way to say it.”

It takes all his effort but he pushes himself to sit upright then, a little more awake and even more confused. He takes in the sight of her, the concern on her face, and remembers thinking that he’d never get to see it again. That’s right, Mikasa was “missing,” but scouts were looking for her body. He had lost her. He briefly glances around the room, noting the white sheets and how they reflect the sunlight in a way that makes the room seem unnaturally bright, like he was in some kind of dream. Was this heaven? The afterlife?

“Am…. am I dead?” he genuinely asks, eyes widening.

Mikasa looks at him as if he suddenly sprouted an extra head, fixing herself into a kneel and pushing her palm against his forehead, the back of her other hand checking the temperature of his face and neck. “Do you have a fever or something? Why are you asking such strange things?”

The firm and real touch of her hand snaps him out of whatever delirium he’s experiencing and he just stares at her, watches how she frets over his unkempt state. He couldn’t pay any mind to his dumb and embarrassing questions because this wasn’t a dream, and he wasn’t dead. This is real. Tears start to pool in his eyes, falling from them in thick droplets.

She looks even more worried, opening her mouth to probably ask more questions but before she can, he grips her arms and pulls her close to wrap his arms around her waist, his entire being weak and ready to collapse at the relief that pulses through him. He clenches his jaw tight, stifling his sobs but unable to control how they wrack his body. Her scarf catches the tears that won’t stop falling, and he only embraces her harder as he manages a barely audible, “I thought you weren’t coming back… I thought I lost you…”

He knows that she finally understands the reason behind his bizarre behavior when she relaxes against him, her arms curling around his shoulders and head resting against his.

“I’m sorry, Eren...”

They stay like that for a few moments longer until her left hand coaxes him to look at her, her thin fingers wiping at the wet and darkened skin beneath his eye. “Plans were compromised, and we lost more than expected,” she explains regrettably, her gaze fixed on her movements. “A small group of us were stranded for a short while, but… but I’m here now.”

Her voice and words reverberate so nicely in his ears after spending so many hours longing to hear them, and yet there is a part of him that still feared that somehow this wasn’t real. Even awake and wound up in each other's embrace, he wasn’t entirely convinced, and he was becoming acutely aware of how he craved something more. So, in response, he nudges her hand away from his face so he can cup her cheeks and swiftly guide her lips to his. She inhaled sharply through her nose, clearly blindsided by his kiss and he would’ve felt more sorry if it wasn’t for the soft sensation of her lips, her breath and skin reassuringly warm against his face. His slight regret for surprising her (especially in a way neither of them was used to) diminishes entirely when her hands rise to wrap around his wrists and she kisses him back, over and over. When he pulls away, greeted by the sight of her blush and shy gaze, he takes in a lungful of air, finally feeling like he can truly breathe.

#eremika #writing #requests #text #i have so much angst from current manga events and i'm always like #'wow ouch okay i should try to write something lighthearted maybe that'll help me feel better'#and a lot of what i've been writing is just angst akjdbah #*sigh*#also #i feel like i kinda suck at lighthearted/fluffly things so i unconsciously steer from it 😅#kaleidoscopes

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majormaxam · 5 years ago

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won’t you bring me an angel? part II

Part I

Pairing: Jasper Whitlock (Hale) x Reader

Summary: You find yourself to be a victim of Maria’s growing newborn army in Southern Texas. Maria finds your ability more than special, but a weapon. What she doesn’t expect is for you to be as defiant as others and to Maria’s dismay, you just happen to grow close with Major Jasper Whitlock.

Warnings: Mentions of death

Word Count: 5K

Author’s Note: Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for the next update.

Tags: @okbillyhargrove @whitlockswhore @savingprivatecass @trashysara @actuallyedythecullen @xplrreylo @liviasaugusta @basically-hayley @woodhousesemma @missmaskedwriter @nekee-lilac02 @carmalcandylover @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @mental-breaker-74 @vviptop @sfs143 @themihala@bsnsasusval @thecaptainsgingersnap

The first week of being a newborn was spent in silence as (Y/N) refused to say a word to another newborn, while refraining to share a glance at the Major. He tried everyday to work his emotions over her in hopes of easing her into this lifestyle, but she fought him. Every time. It didn’t seem to bother Maria, she fed off gaining attention from the newborns and Jasper. She didn’t take issue with it… until (Y/N)’s third week. She was not only refusing to join the combat teachings of Jasper’s, but she also began to starve herself for three weeks without a drop of blood.

It was difficult to withstand that pain withering inside her body, especially when the other newborn arrived back with blood stained garments. Fresh blood causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up as the raging burn in her throat heightened. She would clench the sides of her hips as the pain was difficult to withstand… and it was clear by the way she carried herself.

Jasper took note of her starvation on the third night of arriving to her new home, but he believed she would eventually give in. He could hardly believe three weeks of starvation lasted further, her black eyes were burning a hole into Maria with one swift glance. He could feel Maria’s temper being tested as (Y/N) refused to feed and fight… she would’ve killed her off by now, but her power was valuable. However, he had a strong connection with the newborn, even if it was through silent stares and forced smiles.

He liked her.

Maria was beginning to lose her patience with her and Jasper felt it intensifying. The third week began to test the extent of Maria’s patience, which was slim to none.

(Y/N) stood in the empty field behind the barn with your eyes focusing on the sky as the moon began to rise above. It delivered a message to the newborns cravings blood and the excitement of the darkened sky only festered their hunger. It was difficult to ignore the feverish craving as well, but she restrained herself by biting down on her lip and counting the stars.

“She needs to feed.” Maria spat as she looked on at the challenging newborn, who stood yards away with a defiant chin holding her up. “She can’t fight at her finest if she’s starving herself.” She was speaking to Jasper as he followed her gaze across the land. “… what has she told you about herself?”

Jasper raised an eyebrow at hearing Maria begging for questions regarding the new-born and he immediately answered. “She’s quiet… hardly speaks to anyone and if she does, it’s to the youngest here.” He could feel Maria yearning for more by the emotions racing through her body and he longed to deliver. “If you wish for me to grow closer-“

“Please do…” Maria eased into Jasper’s side with her hand placed on his waist drawing him in. “make her trust you before we are forced to deal with it.” She then rested a gentle kiss on his lips before making her way towards Lottie to discuss a matter at hand. Her whispers were faint as she demanded the blonde vampire to head into town, but if successful, she would have the newborn melting in the palm of her hand.

She eventually found herself plucking the spring wildflowers growing underneath the sweet grass, slowly creating a bouquet. It seemed Indian paintbrushes were even prettier under the silver moon as babies breath scattered into the orange. She hated nights like these most as they reminded her of what she used to have… a family.

“Will you be joining them for a feeding?” His question was answered by her silence and she didn’t bother to even steal a glance, but his presence followed her as the bouquet of flowers grew in her hands. “I don’t want you to get hurt (Y/N)… which is where it’s leading to.”

“Is that from Maria’s mouth or yours?” She felt his eyes shifting from her to the newborns gathering to leave. “Will she be the one hurting me… because if so, I will feed to gain strength.” She seemed to draw out a small laughter, but also witnessed the protective streak as his eyes turned cold. “She certainly has charmed you, hasn’t she?”

Jasper was taken aback by the comments (Y/N) continued to make as he followed her path in the open clearing, but paused as her threat struck him as humorous but wilful. He knew she was right, he’d been under Maria’s spell for quite some time and he found it difficult to force himself out. He didn’t answer, nor did he break his gaze from hers.

She felt the bitter laughter hesitate in the back of her throat as watched the newborns disappear into the dark night. It began to strong wave of heat to run up her throat as she imagined hunting herself and immediately, she directed her thoughts elsewhere.

He watched as her eyes loonily stared into the night as the vampires continued on, but she fought hard to ignore the powerful cravings desiring more. In the years time of being a vampire, Jasper had never experienced hunger this intense. He himself struggled with his own, but he took on the other surrounding newborns… but hers were three weeks overdue. Jasper’s body stiffened as wind whistled through the trees and allowed human scent to travel along, causing her throat to tighten and the flowers to crumble under her grasp.

“You’re in pain.” Jasper’s comments were forced out as he felt the ability of his attempt to calm her down. He watched as her head turned the other way, avoiding the truth of his words. “too much pain to withstand one more night, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) clenched her tightened jaw as he attempted to sympathise with her under the painful hunger, but his empathy ways were causing him to experience it as well. He was right, but she wasn’t going to follow along if it meant Maria controlled her. “Just leave me be… you don’t need to feel this either.”

“I am not leaving.” Jasper knew he was supposed to manipulate the young newborn, but in this moment he couldn’t find it in his heart to do that. “I have used my gift on many newborns… but not a single one has endured this type of pain.” He felt her eyes brush over her shoulder as he refused to leave her side and instead, shifted the topic of conversation. “When you were human what was your worst injury?”

She noticed him attempting to distract her from the pain coursing throughout her body and for a moment, she appreciated him. “I used to climb the big oak tree beside our home. My mother, she… she would get so angry with me because ‘young maidens aren’t to do that in a dress.’” Her voice mocked her mother’s tone and found herself laughing with sweet tears in her eyes. “My brother and I used to race to see who could get the highest. He always beat me,” She smiled as the memory of her older brother calmed the pain. “when I was nine, one of the tree branches gave out once I got too high,” She paused as she bent down and drew up the skirt she wore. “I tried holding onto the tree, but the bark wasn’t too kind.”

Jasper listened intently as she began to open up to him about her childhood, tears gracing her eyes as she wiped them away with a forced smile. He expected her to say something as simple as skinning her knee, but the moment she hiked up her skirt he caught the scar on his mid thigh. It seemed her skin had caught the bark as she was sliding down the tree, causing the skin to open up. He was quite surprised as well because women were scorned to show even their collarbones.

“My mother was so mad.” She glanced up to catch his eyes running up and along the scars gracing the inner thigh. “I landed on my back and the wind was knocked out of me, but I lived to tell the tale.” Her fingers released the skirt dropping it back down to her ankles. “Care to share a tale of your own, Major?”

Jasper found himself snapping back to the sound of her voice and shared a smile of his own before sighing. “I have many scars.” Without hesitating he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the countless bite marks gracing his skin, while his emotions steadied he felt the impact of hers. She felt sorrow at the sight of bite marks and immediately frowned. “You don’t have to feel sorry for me.”

She felt her throat tighten as his comment left her shaking her head. “Is this from teaching newborns?” She watched as his eyes attempted to brush off the pain, but she could feel almost every bite covering his skin. “You don’t deserve this, Jasper.”

“Jasper?” He couldn’t hide his smirk as he unrolled the sleeves to hide the bite marks once more. “I believe you only knew me by Major.” Jasper felt her saddened eyes burning into him as he attempted to cover up his emotions as he did the scarring. “You don’t have to worry (Y/N).”

“… and yet, you worry for me?” She questioned him as he began to cover up the battle wounds and glanced the other way. (Y/N) two stood alone as most of the newborns had gone to feast and Maria had left with them. It might’ve been the only time to speak to him without anyone interfering. “I have seen you teaching them, they seem to be rash.”

Jasper raised an eyebrow as she spoke of fighting the newborns. “You have been watching then?” He tilted his head to the side before shrugging his shoulders. “You must learn as well, if we find ourselves having to fight others you will lose your life.” He wasn’t surprised to find her not resounding to his comment, but even more surprised for her to long for that. “… what is the reason behind not feeding, (Y/N)?”

“… You can feel my emotions, can you not?” She watched as Jasper’s eyes narrowed on her before his chin raised to give a stiff nod in response. “I know the only reason Maria has allowed me to stay is because of my gift, am I correct?” His silence again answered her question and so she continued. “I am sure she would’ve ended my life by now if I was without it.”

She seemed to silence Jasper with the rather striking comment, his eyes running over her own before breaking the gaze. He seemed dazed by the shocking accusation but she didn’t hesitate when the truth seemed to rattle her core. (Y/N) struck a nerve as tension rose between both of them at the mention of Maria ending her life. However, it didn’t seem she were wrong either.

“I can help you get stronger with your gift, (Y/N).” Jasper wasn’t surprised to watch her gaze break away from his at the mention of his helpful hand. “And I’m speaking without Maria’s input.” Her eyes carried up into the stars as he mentioned Maria once more. “It’s difficult to gain control of your powers when you don’t understand them.”

She didn’t want to gain control of her powers, not when it strengthened Maria’s chances of having a stronger army. It wasn’t just her murderous streak and slashing her family apart, but witnessing her controlling and manipulating ways over Jasper sickened her. (Y/N) carried guilt for Jasper as he seemed charmed by the stunning vampire… and she wished to end her life for it.

“I don’t believe you.” You whispered as Jasper’s eyes then widened at your response and as you stepped back away from him, his speed beat you from going any further. He now stood beside you with crimson eyes burning into you while a snarl left his lips. “Move out of my way.” You demanded as the anger inside you was attempting to be shoved away by Jasper’s strength, but you weren’t having it. “Quit it before I do something I regret.”

Jasper didn’t want to harm the innocent newborn, not when he found himself fond of her, but the moment she began to speak as if she knew him. He’d lost it. He kept his stance right before her, not daring to move an inch but her anger radiating off him with his attempts to calm her. “You need to calm down or else-“

(Y/N) had enough. She effortlessly shoved Jasper a few yards back as her strength overtook his, but he regained himself faster than her as she attempted to run. He followed her into the wooded area, only for her to make it a couple hundred yards before he had her pinned against a large oak tree. She wanted to fight him, but the moment her met his eyes… she couldn’t find it in herself to strike him.

He felt her submission as his hands held her by the collarbone and pressed her into the tree, his eyes filled with rage as she attempted to fight him. However, Jasper noticed her unwillingness to fight the moment she raised her eyes to him. He understood… the moment he tried to lay a hand on her, he ended up regretting it moments later.

“I don’t want this Jasper.” She felt the heavy wave of emotions of her own doing hit her stomach as if she’d been punched, but stood strong as his hands fell from her collarbone. “I can’t control this anger she brings me, I cannot withstand that woman since I found my mother…“

Jasper had been forced to endure the flood of emotions from countless newborns in the past, but her suffering was more than he could withstand. He kept his hands along her collarbone with his touch turning soft while her trembling chest made it difficult for her to stand, her cries continuing as she held her head down ashamed of her actions. She wasn’t ashamed to fight him, but the weakness of her tears being seen under his watch.

“I don’t wish for you to fight this, (Y/N).” He watched her eyes dart up to meet his as he then sent restful waves throughout her body. Jasper was more pleased to see she wasn’t fighting him, nor using her powers to stop him or fight him off. She relaxed under his touch and soon her last tear fell. “I am not asking you to forget what Maria has done… that is not possible.” He meant what he said when regarding Maria’s malicious actions, but knew he had to tread carefully. “I am asking you to feed because you will only hurt yourself in this.”

(Y/N) felt the weakened body of hers slump against the large oak as the overwhelming scent of dirt hit her nostrils, but left her wrinkling her nose instead. He was right… she was craving blood more than anything and her body was betraying her for it. His own hunger was intense, but her added taste for blood was drawing him near the edge of unbearable. “… and you.” She lifted her gaze to his and watched as he understood the meaning behind what she said.

Jasper was taken aback by her caring streak but slowly nodded as his head as he struggled to withstand her concern. He felt it… she craved for him to take the edge off of his own hunger, but even more so for herself so he wouldn’t carry it as well. He felt her genuine tone strike him as odd, but stood blind to it because Maria’s was manipulative and he didn’t want to admit that. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re baring more pain because of my hunger….” She watched his head hang in shame as he finally had another vampire understanding his struggle. “I can only imagine what it’s like with the rest of them around you.” She referenced to the other newborns missing at the moment. “Maria knows you’re in pain, yet she doesn’t care.”

Jasper lifted his head to speak and defend Maria, but he had no words. You were right and he couldn’t fight you on a singlet hing regarding her self-serving ways. It made you sick to know that such a selfish creature stood stronger than most.

“She does.” His words fell flat at her feet while the forced laughter fell from her lips, causing his dark eyes to meet her own. He was surprised to see her poking the dangerous game of fighting Maria.

“Look at you…” She grabbed him by the arms at his side and pulled the sleeves up to his forearm, revealing the bitten marks along his skin. His eyes following the abrupt behaviour. “you’re branded by her demands, are you not?” He didn’t flinch under her touch, nor did he break away from her heavy gaze. “I have not once seen Maria attempt to heal your wounds or stop them. She calls you hers, yet she sends you to fight her battles whether or not it means death.” He forced his wrists out of her hands before she mindlessly shook her head.

Jasper told himself not to listen, not when Maria had whispered to him many times of newborns attempting to feed him with lies. He had to believe her… she changed him for a reason. “Maria is my mate.” He was falling himself with that statement and when he forced her to drop his wrists, she watched her eyes glisten with disbelief. “You’re right. She changed you for the sheer pleasure of gaining another newborn, but if only she knew how moronic you were before.”

The insult her hurled hit her directly in the stomach as if a sharp punch had been delivered by his hand. She stiffened as the idea of his statement made her force a bitter chuckle. “… I’d gladly be moronic over delusional.” She pushed past him with ease and made her way back towards the barn.

He felt her anger as she dared to spit those words at him and while he wanted to lash out with a strike, he refrained. Jasper wasn’t provoked by her last statement, nor the statements before that but the gut-wrenching truth he wished to deny. His despair wasn’t matched by the anger as he found himself slamming his fist into the oak tree before him, causing it to snap in half and tumble into the soil below.

He told himself he would never be able to admit the truth… until (Y/N) slapped him directly across the face with it. Jasper hated himself for even believing Maria used him as an upper hand, he felt as if he was betraying her by entertaining that thought. However, he recalled that night three weeks ago when out hunting for a human and ever since his gut feeling changed with time.

Through all of this anger, Jasper took off running into the darkened woods with his mind racing back to the three nights. He could recall every moment from beginning to end. He’d found himself battered with bites and deepened hunger and his emotions peaking as hunger took over pain. For once, he’d found himself furious with his sire.

Maria didn’t bother to teach the newborns after Jasper’s fresh wounds were healing and his hunger raging, so he withstood each painful infliction. He’d found himself at the end of his rope and went out to feast off humans, but by his third killing, he craved something else.

Jasper came to a stop over a peak mountain and let out a harsh breath, his eyes running over the small town below and catching the fresh scent of blood being spilled. He was fully aware of Maria’s army running wild below and glanced away in shame, while his own head raced with memories.

When the third human dropped at his feet Jasper cleaned his lips clean of blood, not daring to take another glance at the human. Instead, his eyes caught the stars up above and made his way out towards the woods to rejoin his clan. He knew he needed to return before Maria came searching, but he stopped short at the idea of returning to hell. Jasper was tired of the bites, the fighting, and the manipulative whispers of Maria in his ear.

He craved more than what she forced him to be… he wanted to leave, yet he knew he couldn’t.

Jasper stood near the Texas woods with his eyes closed at the idea of returning to screams and torture. He desperately craved inner peace and serenity to surround him through this mayhem swarming his mental health.

He found himself begging for someone to grace his life and calm the madness… he prayed for an angel.

It was the exact moment the scent of fresh lavender fills his nostrils and human blood mixed to cause his eyes to see red. He’d never been so drawn to blood before but he craved it even when his hunger had calmed itself with the death of three humans. Jasper sped through the woods with intent as he followed that scent, not daring to break away from it. He couldn’t when it matched the marks on his skin and been embedded in.

He didn’t travel any further when he found himself standing by a small cottage on the edge of a family farm. Horses filled the land with fresh flowers trailing along the edge, but he searched for the scent he traveled for. It was then she appeared under a large oak tree with her eyes wide on the stars and hair braided with flowers in between the waves. He watched from afar as she sung sweet lullabies and plucked the lavender with bare feet brushing into the greens underneath her toes.

It was in that moment Jasper felt as if his prayers had been answered. It was (Y/N)… and it frightened him more than Maria’s alluring power over him.

An hour had passed since Jasper returned back to the barn and when hiking back towards the trail, he found himself returning to (Y/N) ’s screams. He felt the coursing pain of hunger return as he stood at the barn doors and once looking inside, he caught onto why. It seemed Maria was more desperate than he believed.

A human sat before (Y/N)’s feet as Maria forced her closer with the scent of blood heavy in the air. Bite marks scattered along the body as the weakened pulse left all of the vampires thirsting for more, but not nearly as much as (Y/N). Her legs were buckling underneath her as Maria’s hand tugged her closer towards the human.

“Unhand me you vile, egotist-“

Maria’s laughter cut her off as she attempted to pull herself away, but her weakened state wouldn’t allow her to fight to her ability of a newborn. “You think you can undermine me?” Her anger was clear under the strengthened grip on her arm. “I am one step ahead of you.” She nodded her head towards Lottie, who stepped closer to the human and dared to open a flesh-wound.

Jasper felt the exhausting pain (Y/N) was withstanding and once catching onto Maria’s doing, he stepped in. He immediately grabbed Lottie’s arm and jerked her back, displeasing Maria who looked on in horror to see her lover betray her.

“Jasper… love, please do step aside.” Her lavish voice was enough for Jasper to weaken, but in this instance he felt his blood boiling as she attempted to outsmart him as well.

He forced the dagger in Lottie’s hand to drop as he then tossed it aside and shook his head. “I agree she needs to feed, but on her own time.” Jasper watched Maria’s eyes switch to complete shock and anger as he dared to speak out. “forcing her will only-“

“Will only what?” Maria snapped as her nails began to dig into the skin of (Y/N) who didn’t dare flinch at the pain when her body nearly felt numb. “I know what it will do, it will cause her hunger to binge, but what choice do I have? I need her for a future battle and I will NOT let her-“

“Die?” Jasper questioned her once again with a raised eyebrow and shook his head. “You don’t want her dead because of a disadvantage to your upperhand. She’s more than that Maria.” He spat with meaning as Maria’s reddened eyes narrowed onto him with complete anger and bafflement.

The barn fell silent as Jasper’s comment angered their sire, but most of all surprised most of the clan as they gathered around to watch the scene playout. Maria’s threatened eyes watched as Jasper glared into hers with complete terror and festering mess, but out of retaliation she sunk her fangs into (Y/N)’s scarless collarbone and let her fall to the ground. Her pain settling into the withering pain coursing through as she kicked her aside and stepped towards Jasper.

“… she’s nothing to you, do you understand me?” Maria spoke with her hands at Jasper’s throat and her nails now piercing his skin without a care. “I made you, you’re mine and she’s nothing but a power. Is that clear?” Her silent tone causing Jasper to truly see her anger that was for once directed at him.

Jasper felt her anger as her hand graced his neck as he stood without flinching under her touch, but he didn’t dare let her know he could feel her power over the others slipping away. Maria was growing weaker and the others sensed it. It was because of (Y/N). He simply nodded his head and felt Maria’s hand release his neck, then placing a softened kiss on his cheek. He shuttered under her lips and stepped away. His eyes meeting (Y/N) as she laid on the ground, her soft cries breaking him as he knelt beside her to help her stand.

Maria glanced over her shoulder to catch Jasper’s helping hand and immediately, she wished to act on it but instead she stepped further away gesturing for Lottie to follow. She was boiling inside as her anger was festering with time and now exploding. Once outside the barn she turned to Lottie with her eyes burning with rage. “… we can’t afford to lose that power of hers… but we need to break her.” She received a nod from the blonde haired vampire and continued. “You mentioned reading over a journal in her home, correct? What was written?”

“… She’s quite dull.” Lottie realised her answer wasn’t pleasing and continued. “she mostly wrote about her adventures with her father, but aside from that she mentioned her brother returning from war soon and-“

“Brother?” Maria’s eyes gleamed with venom as a smirk curled into her upper lip. “When is this brother due to return?” Her plan for demise fell into her lap as she listened intently to Lottie’s descriptions of (Y/N)’s older brother returning home to death.

Inside the barn, (Y/N) was struggling to stand on her own two feet as the venom struck her nerves once again. However, Jasper’s strong arm helped her walk over to rest on a haystack. She slumped against the prickly hay and struggled to wither under the pain, but Jasper’s touch helped relieve it. “Please… you can barely take this.” She whispered under her breath.

“I’m stronger than you believe me.” His charm worked as she chuckled under the cold grip of his hand. “… you need to feed (Y/N). Even if it is just a bit.” Jasper spoke with care as he glanced away from her and attempted to brush off the eyes following his every move. He watched your eyes glance towards the nearly dead human as the scent of his blood carried thick in the air. “please (Y/N).”

She was hesitant to give into the hunger, but she felt his emotions of empathy working over her as the powers opened her eyes to him. It happened faster than she expected as her body craved the humans blood; she found yourself digging her teeth into the humans skin and feasting off the littlest blood touching her tongue.

Jasper released the newborn as she began to feed with her hunger no longer depriving her of further hunger. However, he hesitated to draw himself further away as her red eyes came to normal and glanced out the barn doors… she was debating for more blood lust.

“I will follow you if you wish.” His words sent shivers down her spine as he seemed to care for her well being. She shook your head and with the strengthened body, she stood on her feet and wiped her lips of any excess blood.

“I’m fine.”

The Major felt her lies imprint into his skin as she glanced away to deny the hunger, but he was quick to react by drawing a smile and leaning closer. “Follow me.” He moved towards the sliding barn doors, ignoring the stares and glares from the others as she trailed close behind. She were shocked to find no sight of Maria close, but she didn’t allow that to stop her.

(Y/N) attempted to ask him where they were headed, but she didn’t bother as she trailed further and further from the barn. She felt enlightened by the newfound energy coursing through her deaden veins, but she also hesitated to go further as she was frightened by her own self. It wasn’t until Jasper stopped dead short in the middle of the woods that she found her voice.

“What are we doing here?”

Her question left Jasper giving a smile as he carried his eyes back to her with an eager curl of his lip. “You mentioned you used to climb trees with your brother…” He removed his army jacket and placed it by his feet. “I imagine you’d be pretty damn good at it now.” He watched her eyes widened with excitement as he began to roll up her sleeves. “… that is if you can beat me.”

She felt joy rush to your heart as she glanced up at the large oak trees surrounding the land of forrest. “First one to break a branch loses.” His eyebrow raised at the rule she delivered and immediately, she tilted her head to the side. “I truly hope you don’t mind losing… Major.”

“I think I can handle that.” Jasper expected her to give a little more with her new-found energy, but her tongue lashing was enough to make him laugh as she dashed up the tree before him. He hesitated in the flash of a moment as the happiness in her eyes was enough to make him fall back down to reality. He began to understand why Maria despised (Y/N)… it wasn’t because of her natural beauty or her ability to manipulate powers without trying.

She threatened Maria’s power over the entire army, but most importantly her Major.

#jasper hale #jasper whitlock #Major Jasper Whitlock #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #twilight #the twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight fanfiction #imagine twilight #Jasper Hale Imagine #Jasper Whitlock Imagine #Bella Swan #edward cullen #Alice Cullen #Rosalie Hale #Emmett Cullen #Esme Cullen #Carlisle Cullen

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justcallmenikki7 · 5 years ago

Text

BTS Reaction To: They Find Your Scars

Summary: your boyfriend finds the scars that you have kept hidden from them.

Warnings: angst, mentions of self-harm, self-degrading words, depression, smut, low self-esteem, and reader being a very bad headspace.

Request:

bts reaction when they found their girlfriend's hidden wound/scars? you can add some fluff smut. thank you, love❣

W.C.: 2.1k

Notes: Your scars make you beautiful. Do not be ashamed of them. Embrace them! Love them! They are beautiful and they show how strong you are!

Jin:

You have been with Jin for a year and two months now – a year and two months that have been the best time of your life. In your whole twenty-four years of life, you have never been this happy. Jin has brought out the best of you – the better of you.

And during that time, you have given yourself fully to him; your heart, soul, and body. Yes, you gave Jin your virginity. But it was not anything normal, or anything like in books and movies. What you mean by this is, is that you kept your shirt on the whole time, covering your chest where the scar from your surgery when you were six.

To sum it up, you were born with a whole in your heart due to being born early. It is not that you are ashamed of your scare – it is something that makes you, you. You love your scar; you are just worried that Jin will think it is ugly. You do not know why you think this because Jin is such a gentleman and kind, loving, accepting person. But that fear in the back of your head is nagging at you, making it to where you are covering it up – especially during the heated moments that both you and Jin share with one another.

So, that is why your eyes are filled with tears, hands covering your chest as much as you can, bottom lip wobbly and heart racing as you stand in front of Jin in the master bathroom. His eyes were on your hands that were covering your scar.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whimpered out, voicing your worries.

Face morphing into what could be described as pain, Jin took a step towards you. Opening his arms as an invation for a hug, you took the invite and launched yourself into your boyfriends’ arms. “I could, would never hate you for your scars. They are what makes you, you. With or without them, I would always find you beautiful.”

Yoongi:

You never wear shorts. Even on the hottest days, you wear either jeans, leggings, or capris, suffering in the heat. As you grew older, you got used to it and found ways to bear through it. The nerves of someone seeing your self harm scars, looking at you with judgmental eyes or pity was the last thing you wanted.

Some of them have faded into white lines, but others are still dark and noticeable. You think that Yoongi, your boyfriend, does not notice your nervousness whenever he asks if you would like to wear anything but shorts when you two go on dates during the summer when it is humid and muggy. But what you do not know is that he knows your secret, he knows exactly what you are going through – being someone who has self-harmed, he knows what you are doing. The thing is, he does not want to pressure you into telling him.

That is why he kept his mouth shut while you try and stutter your way through lying to him about where your scars came from.

“My cat, Rubby? You know Rubby, yeah, she um, she got mad at me when I was trying to giver her a bath the other day and she got mad at me, which is obvious. So, she scratched me and –”

You were cut off by Yoongi’s lips pressing against yours, shutting you up quickly. He pulled you in softly, acting as if you were glass that was easily to break. Pulling away, Yoongi nudged your cheek affectionately placing a kiss to your cheek. “You don’t have to lie to me, Y/N. You have nothing to be ashamed about. I have scars like you.” Yoongi explained, not being good with his words. But you know that Yoongi is not good with his words during moments such as this. Even with the few words he said, they still made your heart swell, and your love for him grow even more. “I love you, Y/N. I love all of you, so fucking much.”

Hoseok:

The look of sadness washed over Hoseok’s face when he saw the zig zag scar on the left side of your stomach. You knew that he could not control his facial expressions, but that reassurance did not stop the insecure feeling that you felt.

“I know it’s ugly, you can say it…” you whispered.

Shaking his head in disagreement, he looked up at you with tearful eyes. “It is not ugly, Y/N. It’s beautiful,” he spoke honestly, running his fingers across the scar.

Scoffing, “How is that beautiful? It’s ugly. It’s a reminder of happened.”

“A reminder of how strong you are. It is beautiful because it shows what you are capable of going through and how unbeatable you are.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, heart beating quickly at how sincere he is sounding. Seeing you cracking, Hoseok pulled you into his arms, holding you close tightly to him. His actions had you sobbing, not being able to register how luck you are to have someone like him in your life – someone who loves you so much.

“Shsh, it’s okay, jagi. It’s okay,” he whispered into your ear lovingly. “It is okay.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believed that you will be just that.

Namjoon:

“I’m sorry.” That was the first thing that came out of your mouth when Namjoon saw your scars on your skin. “I totally get if you don’t want to stay with me after seeing these, I totally don’t blame you. I mean, who would want to be with someone who has scars that cover their who body?” You criticized and belittled yourself, hating on your body so much that it brought Namjoon to tears. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Why would you say that about yourself?” Namjoon asked, confusing you.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you not realize how beautiful you are? How beautiful you still are with scars?” Namjoon asked again, bringing a tear to your eye.

“Namjoon, you don’t have to lie to me just so I can feel better.” You pointed out, trying to cover up how emotional you are getting.

“Why would I lie about that? Especially to you?” You pondered his question, “Do you seriously think I would leave you just because you have scars? We all have scars, some visible, some not. But they don’t make you ugly, they make you more beautiful. They add on to your character, they resemble you. Each one has a story. And if you think that I would leave you because I can see your scars, then I have been a shitty boyfriend.” Namjoon gave out a dry chuckle, a chuckle that was not humorous. Taking a step closer to you, thankful that you did not move back. Pressing a hand to the scar that is above your right breast, he carefully caressed it, an action that had you sobbing.

You believed every word that Namjoon said. But the two of you knew that you have a lot of work to do to make you see how beautiful you are – with or without visible scars.

Jimin:

Jimin was quiet while you spoke about your scars from the car accident you were in as a child. He was happy that you were comfortable enough with him to talk about the accident, and the scars themselves. For the past six months of being with you, he has always been curious to know why you have scars that run up and down the right side of your body, but he never asked because he knew that it was his place not to ask. So, having you trust him enough to talk about a dark time of your life has him feeling happy.

“And this one, this is where they pulled glass out of me since I went through the windshield. The glass got stuck in me, and it was deep enough to cause blood loss. The doctors say that I am lucky to be alive because of how deep the glass went. And this one,” you say, motioning at the whole side of your body, “this is all road rash. You’d think that the puncture from the glass and the concussion would’ve been the worst, but you’d think wrong. The road rash was the worst. I could barely move this side of my body from how bad it was.” You gave out a sarcastic chuckle, “Do not let road rash fool you. It is the worst pain ever. And the ugliest scar ever…”

“I think it’s beautiful.” Jimin breathed out, giving you a look that you could not put your finger on.

“You’re crazy.”

Shaking his head, “No. It’s beautiful. It has these cool patterns,” Jimin explained, running his fingers over the patterns that the road rash left behind, “It’s like a painting that you see on a canvas. Well, it is on a canvas.”

With uncertain eyes and uncertainty in your voice, “you really think that?”

“Of course, you are the most beautiful woman ever. I wouldn’t be saying this to you as a lie, or if I did not love you.”

A smile was slowing building on your face, “You love me?”

“So much,” Jimin whispered, pulling you in for a kiss.

Taehyung:

“And I love this one, because it looks like a lightning bolt when it hits the light perfectly,” Taehyung stated, pressing a kiss to the scar.

Taehyung knew you, more than you knew yourself. So, when he found you standing in front of the mirror, poking at your scars with disgust, he knew that he had to do something about it. Throwing you onto the bed, stripping you naked, he began to show love for each and every scar that you had, stating what he loved about each one.

“And my God, this one,” Taehyung growled, chest rising and falling heavily, trying to control himself. “This one, Y/N, is my most favorite.”

“W-Why?” You asked, curiousity and want behind your question. You wanted to know why this scar is your boyfriends favorite and why it affects him so much that it causes him to get aroused.

Looking up at you, eyes blown with lust and love, “Because, whenever I go down on you, I can put my hand just like this,” he explains, putting his hand over your thigh, hand squeezing it just right to have you moaning. “And I can feel it whenever I grip it. It is like a handle to me, a perfect place to set my hand on.” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to it, so gentle and loving, you could not get enough of it. “Princess, I love all of you. And until you can believe me, I’ll be showing you every day why.”

And he did.

Jungkook:

“Did it hurt?” Jungkook asked you wearily, afraid that he could have worded his question wrong, or if it came out rude.

Smiling small at him, you shook your head. “No, it didn’t, surprisingly.”

Titling his head cutely, “Why?”

“Because I was too focus on my broken leg, dummy.” You chuckled, smiling bright at the look of realization that crossed his face.

“Oh, yeah!” Jungkook nodded, “The pain in your leg overpowered the pain that you felt on your side. Now I get it!”

You could not believe how interested your boyfriend is in this conversation. You thought he would have been awkward and weirded out about it. You internally smacked yourself on that, because Jungkook is not even close to being like that kind of person or lover. The insecurities that you felt had you overthinking and doubting yourself.

“Can I touch your scar?” Jungkook asked, earning a nod from you. Getting up from his spot on the couch, he walked over to you and cautiously put his hand on the scar. “Woah, that feels cool!” He gushed in an awe tone. “You’re bad ass jagi.”

“How?” You chuckled, not understanding his compliment.

“Because, no one will fuck with you if they see this badass scar.”

A loud yoddle escaped you, heart feeling warm the love your boyfriend is giving you.

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Scarface: Where Tony Montana Went Wrong

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“All I have in this world is my balls and my word, and I don’t break them for no one,” Tony Montana declares in the 1983 gangster classic, Scarface. Yet Al Pacino’s antihero breaks both in his quest for money, power, and women. And just as he is on the brink of winning the trifecta, he is blown away like so much dust up a nose.

Did he lose because the Cuban mobster didn’t heed the advice of his first crime boss? Or is it because he just couldn’t stand to see his sister and his best friend wearing his-and-her pajamas? In truth, Montana’s fall can probably be traced back to when he learned to speak English by “watching guys like Humphrey Bogart and James Cagney.”

Directed by Brian De Palma, and written by Oliver Stone, Scarface is a remake of Howard Hawks’ vastly influential 1932 mob movie, so Montana’s explosive descent was preordained. Tony Montana continued Pacino’s run of criminal icons, which included Sonny in Dog Day Afternoon and the ultimate crime family head, Michael Corleone in The Godfather films. The actor supplanted Paul Muni’s Tony Carmonte as the recognizably scarred face of the title role. Pacino would go on to play Carlito in Carlito’s Way and Lefty in Donnie Brasco, but while each hoodlum brings a new facet to his rogues gallery, none of his gangsters ever achieve their ultimate desires. They almost all reach dizzying heights, and everyone of them sees the dream slip through their fingers. Still, Montana experiences perhaps the greatest fall of all.

The original 1932 film took place during Prohibition when crime was a viable means of survival. De Palma’s adaptation happens in the Reagan era, a time when lucky opportunists could get their lips around the spigots of cash before it got a chance to trickle down. Tony’s economic theory is much more succinct: “You know what capitalism is? Getting fucked.”

Scarface is a rags-to-riches-to-self-destructive fireball story, and nothing succeeds like excess. Montana’s first crime boss in America, Frank Lopez (Robert Loggia), has weathered the climate change from President Carter to the Gipper, and warns Tony to never “underestimate the other guy’s greed.”

In the original Howard Hughes production, Tony was an immigrant from Italy. In the Cold War era film, Montana is a refugee from Cuba. Their shared first mistake is to believe in the American Dream.

The World Is Yours

These words are flashed in both films and hit each of the two criminal aspirants as hard as the “give me your tired, poor, and hungry” promises carved under the Statue of Liberty. Scarface opens shortly after the Mariel boatlift, the 1980 exodus which followed Cuba’s economic crash. Montana seeks asylum, telling immigration officers he is a political prisoner who doesn’t agree with his country’s politics and owns nothing under communism. He says even American prison is better than his life on the Caribbean island. The officers note his criminal past, the telltale tattoo on his arm, and the scar on his face, which despite their insults was obviously not caused by oral sex.

In exchange for a Green Card, Montana and his friend Manny Ribera (Steven Bauer) assassinate Gen. Emilio Rebenga, who tortured the brother of the crime boss Lopez. Tony settles in sunny Miami. And when he gets out of the kitchen and into the heat of crime, he hits the ground running. “The World Is Yours,” after all. All you have to do is take it, and Montana has both hands out.

Frank warns his protégé, “The guys who last in this business are the guys who fly straight – lowkey, quiet; and the guys who want it all – chicas, champagne, flash – they don’t last.” But Montana is a meteor, bound to burn up in the atmosphere. He gets caught on the orbit of Alejandro Sosa (Paul Shenar), agreeing to supply cocaine from Bolivia independent of the other drug lords. Within a few years, Montana is doing so well, the feds target him for tax evasion.

Tony’s Betrayal of Frank Lopez

Montana’s betrayal of Frank Lopez is crucial to his downfall. Frank is the father figure who initially took a chance on Tony. He let him rise through the ranks, even as he tried to bite off more than he could chew. Frank’s biggest mistake is not making sure his underlings follow his sage advice. He also ignores one of his own commandments. Lopez underestimates Montana’s greed. He trusts Tony to accompany his trusted second-gun Omar Suarez (F. Murray Abraham) to Bolivia to meet with Sosa, and continues to let Tony operate after the druglord hangs Suarez from a helicopter.

The deal Montana makes behind Frank’s back is a major step toward the fall. The vow Tony takes never to betray Sosa ultimately leads to the last splash. Montana breaks his word to both of these men, and they bust his balls as a result. When Tony returns to Miami, Frank is suspicious over Omar’s death and his returning soldier’s independence. As Montana begins to build his own cocaine empire, Frank orders a professional hit.

For gangsters, the only good cop is a bad cop, and it is advisable to grease the wheels which move crime. Mel Bernstein (Harris Yulin) demands his take early in the film at the Babylon Club, which has the perfect cocktail napkins for bribery notes. Bernstein was willing to overlook the murders of Rebenga, “Hector the Toad,” and “that bloodbath at the Sun Ray Hotel.” Tony should have taken him at his word when the cop said he could clean up Tony’s Lopez mess.

Before Tony eliminates Frank, he is hungry. The money and drugs are not a distraction. After he begins to accumulate power, he lets his public profile rise and indulges in conspicuous consumption. Montana keeps a chained-up tiger in front of his compound just to let everyone know how powerful he is. There are real life precedents for this. Colombian drug lord Pablo Escobar imported hippos for his private zoo. Brooklyn mobster “Crazy” Joe Gallo kept a pet lion named Cleo in the basement of his headquarters. The scenario was also probably inspired by Miami’s most notorious drug lord, Mario Tabraue, whose predilection for wild cats was featured in the Netflix documentary Tiger King. But the most conspicuous acquisition Montana leveraged cut Frank the deepest.

It’s always a mistake to go after the boss’ girl. James Cagney’s Tommy Powers knew this in The Public Enemy (1931). James Woods’ Maximillian “Max” Bercovicz skirts this in Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in America (1984). Montana sets out to steal Frank’s trophy wife, Elvira Hancock (Michelle Pfeiffer), from the moment he lays eyes on her, though he waits for the height of his reign to claim her. He does it as much to emasculate his former boss as he does it out of desire. It’s a betrayal equal to having Manny whack Frank while he pleads for his life.

The new couple is married by 1983, but with a marriage always on the rock.

Don’t Get High on Your Own Supply

Montana’s downfall is aided, abetted, but most of all mirrored in his descent into addiction. He probably took his first sniff from Elvira’s stash, but even as Montana bemoans, “I got a junkie for a wife,” he doesn’t get wind of his own problem. “Another Quaalude, and she’ll be mine again,” he reasons as the trophy wife climbs off the pedestal and up on a shelf.

Montana is in deep drug denial when Elvira leaves him after he openly complains she can’t have children because she is polluted with the yaya he’s been peddling. He should at least entertain the notion when she openly wonders if he would even be alive to raise their child.

In American Gangster, Denzel Washington’s Frank Lucas knows enough not to dip his nose into the supply. And while Pacino’s slide into the junkie aspects of his character is physically more subtle than Ray Liotta’s bug-eyed Henry Hill in Goodfellas, the results are just as devastating. When Montana was crushing the competition and bagging the Sandman, he had discipline. His mind gets muddled as his drug use spirals out of control. He makes rash decisions, dips into schizoid delusions, and succumbs to white powder paranoia. He can’t see his way through the haze to find alternatives. He walks right into the undercover cop’s money laundering bust.

The drugs dull his instincts. If Tony wasn’t high at the security command center, he would have seen Sosa’s soldiers encroaching his compound over the cameras. He had 10 bodyguards on the property, he could have positioned them defensively. The only thing his ultimate hit man is hiding behind is a pair of killer shades. He never should have been able to sneak behind Montana’s back. Tony also wouldn’t have gotten rid of his most trusted weapon.

Over and Underestimating Little Friends

Tony Montana’s right-hand man would have been the best, first defense against the Sosa attack. What Tony does to Manny Ribera is his worst action. The two are virtually brothers. Their bond goes beyond being partners in crime, it tightened in the “Freedomtown” concentration camp, and solidified in the Miami chainsaw massacre. It is because Manny is Tony’s most trusted soldier that he will never be good enough for Tony’s sister Gina (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio). Tony’s saving grace is he believes he is doing all this to ensure a better life for his sister. Gina is supposed to represent the innocence he sacrificed, but she is also an unattainable sin.Tony’s mother doesn’t try to separate her children merely because her daughter might be swallowed in the criminal life; she is curbing what she sees as Tony’s unnatural urges.

Movies

The Godfather Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone Proves a Little Less is Infinitely More

By Tony Sokol

Movies

Al Capone: 9 Actors Who Played the Original Scarface

By Tony Sokol

Even if Tony doesn’t see Manny as a rival for his sister’s affections, he still sees him through the eyes of a fellow criminal, and a womanizing one at that. Tony is just like his mother, who rejects him. Tony brands his friend, and ultimately seals his fate with it.

The problem is Ribera wasn’t made to be a gangster. He is a loyal and efficient consigliere and soldier for Tony’s crew, but he would have been happier slapping his name on knockoff designer jeans. Besides the bubbling incestuous tension exacerbated by the coke haze, Tony doesn’t want to see his best friend happier than him, and denies Gina a real chance at the happiness he wants for her.

It’s the one thing Tony can’t buy for her. Gina and Manny fully expect Tony to be thrilled by their marriage. They were going to surprise him with the news. Tony’s incestuous protectiveness speeds his downfall. He murders Manny as a punishment. Gina is shot by Sosa’s men. Montana loses the two most important people in his life, and his inability to control his lusts destroy them all.

“Say Goodnight to the Bad Guy”

The biggest contributory factor in Tony’s downfall is his humanity. In The Godfather, Sonny Corleone advises his brother Michael not to take things too personally in business. When Lopez gives Montana the mission of delivering a bundle of cocaine to Columbian dealers, the rising mobster takes things very personally. The deal goes bad when Montana’s friend Angel Fernandez is murdered with a chainsaw in a scene so aurally graphic (watch it again, there’s no violence shown, only heard), it almost got the film an X rating.

It was allowed in the film in the name of education, Stone pointed to a DEA report which detailed the exact scenario. Tony teaches the Colombians a lesson in humanity. Not content with leaving with the cash and the coke, he kills every single gang member who had anything to do with Angel’s death.

Tony also lets his conscience be his guide when he’s working the GPI on a hit. Faced with serious jail time for his tax evasion arrest, he makes a deal with Sosa, who is also under fire. Montana agrees to fly to New York and assassinate a journalist before he can give a speech on Sosa’s organization. A bomb has been planted in the journalist’s car, and Tony is in charge of tailing until the perfect detonation point. But when Tony arrives on the scene to assassinate the journalist, he notices the man’s wife and children are with him. Montana not only breaks his word, the promise to protect his powerful partner, but he murders Sosa’s right hand man, Alberto, rather than kill the children playing in the back seat.

“I Always Tell The Truth. Even When I Lie.”

Tony Montana may have been the ballsiest and most charismatic of his machismo mob, but he wasn’t the brightest. He acknowledges his intellectual shortcomings, “I come from the gutter,” he admits. “I know that. I got no education, but that’s okay. I know the street.” But he doesn’t read signs. He can’t tell a freeway from a dead end. Frank Lopez may be a blowhard, but his words of wisdom could have been carved in the cement.

All the concrete Tony brags about has gone to his head, making his skull thicker than Pacino’s accent. Montana is brash and unbending, narcissistically adherent to only his own advice, and his own worst counsel. His anger blinds him, the battery is running low on his foresight, and he’s so flashy his enemies can see him coming from miles away. And he can’t see them when they’re standing close enough to breathe on the back of his neck.

Final Massacre

Of course the most obvious reason Tony ends up the way does is because he fights off an army by himself. He’s got quite an arsenal, and the coke probably makes it seem like a good idea at the time, but the decision to stay and fight is vastly miscalculated. Even if Tony had survived the last assassination attempt, Sosa’s men would always be hunting for him. It would have been a short hunt. Tony Montana would have died of a heart attack from all that coke he snorted.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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oswildin · 5 years ago

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The Goo Times ~ Dhawan!Master x Reader

Request: Hey hey.. Are taking requests... If yea.. Imma leave something here... Reader and Dmaster... Where they are traveling together and after some trip they end up covered from head to toe in some goo.. So reader decided to go for some ocean planet.. And do some skinny dipping... And master for first time seeing readers scars and tattoos... Add some smut if you are comfortable.. If not then ignore the last part... Sorry if this sucks ( @g00dl13 )

Summary: The Master thought it would be fun to go to an alien planet... and blow up its inhabitants... leading to you being head to toe in alien goo.

Warnings: No nudity but some flesh on show oh la la

The Master was doing what he always did best. Cause chaos. You had landed on Raxacoricofallapatorius. Which ended up with you being stuck between two of the planets inhabitants... With the Master stood next to you looking rather annoyed by their presence. They were ultimately trying to kill you, or ‘hunt’ as they liked to put it. You looked at the Master.

“I hope you have a plan, cause I did not plan on dying today.” You told him, staring at him as he wore a knowing smirk on his lips. He quickly reached into his pocket, whipping out some sort of liquid. You furrowed your brows, confused at what he had planned.

“Now! I wouldn’t do anything rash if I were you!” The Master called over to the green aliens. “Do you know what this is? Hm?” He tilted his head slightly, showing them the large vial in his hand. “One drop on your skin and boom.” He dramatically told them, eyes crazed. The aliens grunted, stepping back as they eyed the vial.

“What is it?” You asked quietly, eyeing him as he turned to you, a brow raised.

“Acetic acid. Potent stuff for these big guys.” He grinned manically. “Think of the worst allergic reaction you could possibly get, then imagine it ending in explosions.” You pulled a face at the mans words, imagining the mess the aliens would make.

“Great.” You grimaced, forcing a tight smile on your lips.

“I know!” He exclaimed, missing your sarcasm as you rolled your eyes.

“Let’s just go.” You nodded towards the opening to freedom, seeing the aliens backing down. The Master sighed, beginning to walk away from the aliens, however, they had another plan. They roared as they began to race towards you both. You yelled as you jumped away, the Master throwing the vial over the aliens as they froze. They made a gross fart sound before exploding... all over you both. The Master closed his eyes, accepting the disgusting goo whilst you screamed as covered your whole face. The Master opened his eyes, a wide smile on his lips as you gagged at the stench.

“This is minging.” You coughed, wiping the goo from your hair as you tried to not be sick. Roars were heard from the distance as you gasped, the Master grabbing your hand, the sound of your hands squelching together as you pulled a disgusted face. You both began to run towards his TARDIS as you fled the scene. You stood in the console room as you began to feel uncomfortable in your soaked clothes.

“You have a lot of making up to do.” You told him sternly, looking unimpressed at the state of yourself. He laughed manically as he danced around the console, setting in coordinates. “Now where are we going?!” You exclaimed. “It better be somewhere with a shower.” You narrowed your eyes, looking at him accusingly.

“How about a whole ocean planet?!” He exclaimed, pulling a lever. Suddenly the ship landed with a bump as you instantly rushed to the door, hoping he wasn’t lying. You stepped out, seeing you were surrounded by water. He had managed to extend the field, allowing you to stand on top of the ocean beneath you. He appeared beside you as you instantly began to remove your grossly covered in alien goo jacket. “Water! There you go.” He looked proud of himself. “You said you wanted a shower.” He raised a brow as you glared at him. He was such an ass.

You began to remove your t-shirt as he instantly looked surprised at you. He couldn’t help but stare at you as you continued to dress down, preparing to soak yourself in the water. You kept your underwear on as you looked over at him, seeing a mischievous but also shocked look in his eyes.

“Don’t just stand there.” You told him, gesturing to his goo covered clothes. “Time for a soak.” You jumped off the force field, into the water. Luckily it was luke warm, not causing your body to be shocked by the impact. The Master felt heat flow into his cheeks as he hesitantly began to remove articles of clothing. You relished in the warmth of the water, sighing in content as you felt the goo wash off your body. You couldn’t help but peer over at the Master. You weren’t going to lie, you were totally checking him out. What? You were only human.

After finally getting clean, you both got out the water, the cold air of the TARDIS brushing your skin as you shivered from the drastic change in temperature. You stood by the console, walking over to the sofa as you grabbed a blanket from it, wrapping it around your body, missing the Master’s stares from across the room. Were you trying to kill him?

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he noted the marks that graced your body, the tattoos... the scars... the freckles. All of those things made you more appealing to him. Each tattoo and scar having its own story. It was intriguing. You sighed, feeling the warmth of the blanket wrap your body as you turned back round to face the Timelord. He didn’t seem cold at all, as he proceeded to navigate the ship.

“Aren’t you going to cover up?” You asked, raising a brow.

“I thought you were enjoying the view?” He teased as you felt your cheeks blush. He smirked at your reaction, feeling pleased with himself.

“Like you weren’t.” You challenged, wiggling your brows as he pursed his lips, tightening his jaw. “I’m going to go get changed, and relax.” You told him, beginning to walk past him. “And if you were blow up an alien in my presence again, I won’t hesitate to use you as a shield.” You threatened, pointing at him as he smirked.

“Noted.” He winked as you rolled your eyes at him, disappearing from the room.

God. You would be the death of him.

#the master x reader #doctor who imagine #dhawan master x reader #doctor x reader #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #request #doctor who #dr who

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jade-kyo · 4 years ago

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Well I guess I gotta participate in my own event

Alchemy Bros Appreciation Week day 1 - banter! I threw together some incorrect quotes from one of my favorite shows (Red vs Blue) cause frankly Church is just Varian but he gets to curse like a sailor

————————

Hugo: hey, can I ask you something?

Varian: I swear to god if you want me to look at another rash I’m gonna hit you.

Hugo: no, it just feels like every decision I make is the worst.

Varian: oh holy shit you’re actually being serious.

————————

Hugo: I don’t really see why this is such a big deal you hardly ever used your legs anyway. I’ve never heard of a grown man asking for so many piggyback rides.

Varian: hey, I told you- that was for science.

—————————

Varian: alright, get ready to launch operation circle of confusion.

Hugo: uh, Varian, it kind of looks more like a triangle.

Varian: what?

Hugo: I’m just saying it doesn’t look much like a circle it looks more like we’re forming a triangle. Just a side note.

Varian: okay fine. Triangle of confusion, rhombus of terror, parable of mystery, WHO CARES!? GET THE GODAMN SHOW ON THE ROAD!

—————————

Hugo: can we track them?

Varian: track them?

Hugo: you know, pick up a trail like footprints.

Varian: footprints... in the desert.

Hugo: follow broken tree branches-

Varian: tree branches... in the desert.

Hugo: okay these are bad examples, maybe heat signatures?

Varian: in the desert.

[a few moments later]

Hugo: hey guys what’s up

Varian: oh uh Nuru here was able to pick a faint trail based on.. ahem, resident heat signatures...

Hugo: I thought you said we couldn’t do that?

Varian: I didn’t say we couldn’t do that I said you are an idiot... those are two different discussions...

Hugo: ...I want credit for the idea.

————————

Hugo: I try to tell Varian but he never listens

Varian: Hugo, there’s a fine line between not listening and not caring... I like to think I walk that line everyday of my life.

————————

Okay man I gotta stop there’s just too many good RvB quotes 😂

#alchemy bros #alchemy bros appreciation week #hugo the human #varian #varian and the seven kingdoms #banter

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caiminnent · 4 years ago

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no road home [kylux, rated T]

PROMPTS: stranded - bug - break down by @kyluxxoxo

SUMMARY: When Hux gets bitten by a venomous insect on an unfamiliar planet, it falls on Kylo to bring them both back home—alive.

FANDOM: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

TAGS: Near Death Experiences, Stranded, Angst, Mutual Pining, Pre-Slash, Hopeful Ending, Protective Kylo Ren, Timeline What Timeline, Mentioned Brendol Hux, The Author Regrets Everything

NOTES:

Disclaimer: Research told me I could have either a very well-researched WIP or an unrealistic fic. I chose the fic. If you know anything at all about insect bites or survival, please accept this as my formal apology.

Heads-up for Hux trying to talk Kylo into leaving him for dead. No MCD or suicidal tendencies, because that's not how I roll; but Hux does temporarily give up somewhere in there.

2.5K || ALSO ON AO3

Hux collapses just outside the clearing.

Panic seizing his chest, Kylo breaks his fall with the Force on instinct—manages to catch Hux’s head, the rest of his body hitting the ground with a thud that echoes in Kylo’s skull. Kriffing hells. Be conscious, be conscious, please you infuriating—

Hux is conscious—thank stars he is, lying there with his eyes wide open and face pinched tight in his agony. He might not be breathing.

Placing Hux’s head down gently, he drops on a knee next to him. “Hux?”

Hux closes his eyes and empties his lungs on one, long exhale. “My knees gave way,” he mutters, irritation and anger underlying his tone at his body’s apparent betrayal. “It’s all right. Just give me a moment.”

Stark relief courses through Kylo, the grip around his heart loosening.

Hux takes minutes on the ground, working his body—rolling his ankles, clenching and unclenching his hands, turning his head. Once satisfied with his findings, he pushes himself up to a half-roll, then a sitting position. Kylo helps him with a hand between his shoulder blades—Hux hisses at the pressure, flinching away from his touch. No. It must be the fall; it can’t have already—

Stomach at his feet, “Let me see,” Kylo says, tugging at Hux’s sleeve. Exposing more of Hux’s skin might not be smart, considering; but he needs to see for himself—needs to know how much longer they have left.

At Hux’s questioning look, “We should keep track of how far it’s developed,” he adds. A half-lie, at worst. “The research team will need the data.” Useless as it will be, with no way to capture it without their datapads.

Hux frowns deeper, sizing him up through the corner of his eye—weighing Kylo’s sincerity. Kylo steels himself against the sting of Hux’s distrust—justified as it may be—and tugs again.

Releasing another long sigh, Hux shifts into a steadier position, raising his knees. His hands are trembling as he makes short work of his belt and the hidden clasps of his tunic—lightly enough to dismiss, if it were anyone else. The tight undershirt comes off last, pulled carefully away from Hux’s skin.

Blood freezes in Kylo’s veins.

The rash has spread from the bug bite high at his nape, the purple boils extending to Hux’s upper arms and halfway down his torso in thick cords, the skin around some red and broken where Hux must have scratched them behind Kylo’s back. No signs of development up or around Hux’s throat; but gut feeling says it’s a matter of yet.

They need to get Hux into the medbay before that happens.

-------------

After the first sun’s set, fever and nausea enter into the equation.

They were expecting it. The insect, whatever it might be, injected some sort of toxin into Hux’s system. Logic follows that the body will want to fight it through whatever means necessary.

If only he could make it easier on Hux.

Left up to him, he would have just thrown Hux over his shoulder instead of letting him exert himself further, the general’s useless pride be damned—better yet, they wouldn’t have had to rescue themselves from this backwater planet in the first place. As it is, his options are limited to pushing water into Hux’s hands and biting his tongue as Hux’s steps slow down the longer they go.

He doesn’t let himself ask to see the rash again, either. He just watches Hux’s hand drift lower and lower.

-------------

Without a map and unfamiliar with the terrain—Hux’s unnecessarily extensive dossiers would have come in handy here, were he given the time to prepare one before they were dropped planetside for a fool’s errand—he relies mostly on the Force’s guidance to find their way out. Much to Hux’s displeasure. Hitting flowing water like Kylo said they would put an end to the snide comments; but Hux still won’t try the berries the Force deemed safe.

Not that there would be a point to it, now.

Hux is on his knees next to a tree again, dry-heaving. Kylo’s own stomach aches with how hard Hux’s body is trying to cough up nothing; even river water barely stayed down long enough to count as success.

Once done, Hux practically drops against the tree trunk. His skin is dotted with sweat; he wipes it on a clean corner of the tunic he didn’t put back on. “That’s it,” he chokes—clears his throat. “I need a break.”

They both could use one. Kylo could keep going if he had to; but they’re playing the long game here—he needs to save his energy just in case. He won’t be any good to Hux if he exhausts himself unnecessarily.

They can’t afford to linger long, though. Hux’s breathing has been growing shallower since the third sun’s rise, his skin losing what little color it had; every minute is against them.

“We can take ten minutes,” he allows. “Then we have to get back on the road.”

Hux rests his head against the trunk with a sigh, closing his eyes. Without the strength to keep his mental shields up, his thoughts are laid out in front of Kylo—and what a glorious minefield it is. Hux thinks in stark visuals: of his father, rank stripes they shared, Phasma, his vibroblades, an orange tabby Kylo had thought to be just a rumor; of Hux himself on an unfamiliar throne and Kylo standing next to him, of Kylo’s broken body on the snow, Kylo floating in a bacta tank with an oxygen mask covering most of his face—circling back to Brendol Hux in that same tank, dissolving too slowly and painlessly for Hux’s liking.

Kylo wanders a little deeper into Hux’s mind and finds those tendrils of tenderness and affection again, gently redirecting Hux’s thoughts to the cat. Her name is Millicent, apparently—Millie, who likes to sleep behind Hux, in the crook of his knees. Millie, who costs a small fortune to feed, without taking Phasma’s treats into account that Hux pretends not to know about. Millie, who won’t show herself to any of Hux’s visitors but Mitaka.

Millicent, whom Hux might never see again.

Breathing deep to chase away the tightness in his chest, “Time’s up,” Kylo says, pushing himself off the ground. Hux watches him slap dust off his robes and heft what remains of their supplies with misty eyes. “Come on, Hux. You can sit around as much as you want when we get back to the base.” Just watch anyone besides the medical personnel try to come twenty feet near him.

“If we get back to the base,” Hux corrects him through a hoarse throat, not unkindly. “Are you sure we’re headed in the right direction?”

“Yes.” Mostly. Individual Force signatures are nearly impossible to identify from this distance; but they are headed towards a large group of people. Even if it’s just locals, they might know something about the venom flowing through Hux. With any luck, they might have an antidote or at least some relief to provide for Hux while Kylo figures out how to send a message to the base. It’s better than what they currently have, at any rate.

Hux raises a brow in disbelief, the heat of his glare diminished by the slackness of his face as his expression fails to tighten into its usual lines. He tilts his head up, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his folded arms on them. “How much farther?”

Kylo anchors his senses on the strongest signature, a wildfire among torches and candles. By their progress so far, he would estimate… longer than what they have left of daylight. Kriff. If only he had his helmet.

“A couple hours,” he lies. Hux will have his head when he realizes it; but he’s suffered a lot more for a lot less. “Less if we pick up the pace.”

Hux nods slowly at the sky, making no move to get up. “Certainly you realize,” he starts, a new weight to his measured tone. “I don’t have another couple hours’ trek in me. Let alone picking up the pace.”

Dread fills his guts, dark and heavy. “Come on, General,” he tries with a low chuckle, aiming for mocking. “All your scheming, all your grand plans of ruling the galaxy—was it all just so you can waste away in the middle of nowhere?”

An image of snow flashes in Hux’s mind—blindingly white and oppressive, vivid enough to send a shiver down Kylo’s spine. The remains of the Starkiller Base shakes under their feet as Hux half-carries, half-drags Kylo’s barely conscious bulk across the snow, taking stumbling steps towards safety.

The slash across his face burning anew, Kylo flees from Hux’s mind, not brave enough to face Hux’s account of Kylo’s biggest failure.

Hux grimaces, sending him a look that says careful, Ren. “I appreciate your efforts,” Hux continues in that same, carefully neutral tone. “Truly, I do. Not many would have lasted this long. With a dead weight on their side—” Bile rises in Kylo’s throat. “—not many would have even tried.” Hux meets his gaze, steel in his eyes. “Thank you for having tried, Kylo Ren.”

No. No, that can’t be Hux. General Armitage Hux is a survivor before anything—he would have stared death down than sit and wait for it. “I don’t know what the hells has gotten into you,” Kylo spits, the words leaving a bitter taste at the back of his mouth. “But I’m not returning alone.”

“You weren’t given a choice in this matter.” Hux sighs—in his usual, bone-weary exasperation. Kylo latches onto the Hux-ness of the gesture in the middle of this foreign everything. “It is not failure to accept what you couldn’t have prevented, Ren. You are just cutting your losses. I’m sure Leader Snoke will understand.”

“Shut up, Hux,” he hisses, his hands curled into trembling fists. His insides are liquid fire, churning and boiling like lava.

“Not even you can win against nature, Ren. Leader Snoke��”

“Damn Snoke to the void!”

The silence rings between them—or it might be Kylo’s ears. His breath tears out of his chest, coming in short puffs. Hux thinks—Hux expects that Kylo will leave him for dead and go back to the base by himself—the base with its mindless soldiers and stupider minions and no one to walk beside him through the endless hallways, no one to find him when he needs to not be alone the most and to put him back together—

Hux blinks at him, trying to school his features into a scowl. “Why are you fighting me on this?” he snaps. “I won’t find my way out of these woods, not alive—and you risk stranding yourself by trying to make me. There’s no reason for both of us to die here.”

“We will not.” Kylo won’t let it—by stars, he won’t, no matter what comes.

“I thought you would be relieved,” Hux says, his tone pitching higher in accusation—as if trying to save his kriffing life is one of Kylo’s bigger shortcomings. “You’ve been trying to get me out of your way since day one—and now that—” He draws in a shallow, effortful breath—Kylo’s lungs tense with it. “Now that you can without drawing Snoke’s ire, you try your damnedest to save me. Why?”

Because the future of the galaxy depends on you, Kylo should say—should stroke Hux’s ego enough to bring him back from whatever messed up, morbid headspace he’s fallen into. Because the First Order needs you. Because I— “Save your energy for the trip, Hux.”

“No,” Hux barks, every bit the stern general commanding his bridge, even half-undressed and sitting three steps from his own mess. “Tell me why you insist on keeping me alive.”

All too aware of his heartbeat, “What do you care?” Kylo snarls. “I’m making sure you’ll live to see your petty dreams through. Does it kriffing matter why?”

Hux looks at him intently, as if trying to see through him—to take him apart. His thoughts are so loud when he wants them to be, reaching; if he were Force-sensitive, he would have been screaming his thoughts into Kylo’s mind.

Taking it as an invitation, Kylo slips back into Hux’s mind—like a guest most welcome, instead of an intruder who found the door unlocked. Hux is thinking about the Starkiller Base again, but the memory is of Kylo lying on the snow this time, his breath ghosting over him the only sign he’s even alive. Fear fills Kylo’s—no, Hux’s heart at the sight, dizzying and amplified, coming from the center of his being. The bloodstain on the snow as he lifts Kylo’s torso off the ground with considerable strain, careful of his injuries. The medbay, watching Kylo float in the bacta tank with a heavy heart and raw palms. Seeing Kylo for the first time after his release from the medbay, in the Supreme Leader’s throne room, sans the helmet that still irritates Kylo’s facial wound—cold hit of relief that he quickly smothers, composing himself before approaching the two of them with sharp clicks of heels.

Oh.

“Yes,” Hux says, his unblinking gaze daring Kylo to look away—the many scenarios of potential humiliation at Kylo’s hands flickering just beyond his awareness. “As a matter of fact, it does.”

Kylo breathes—breathes again, mind reeling. He reaches into Hux’s mind again, just to make sure he’s not reading this wrong—but no, the feelings are all there. Buried deep, deep enough to escape Kylo’s notice unless he went looking for them—deep enough for Hux to ignore unless he chose to. That, more than anything, convinces Kylo of their authenticity.

Stepping closer, he sinks onto one knee in front of Hux, separated by Hux’s bony knees between them. He reaches to cup a careful hand over Hux’s face—sure of his welcome, yet no less hesitant for it.

“I’ll tell you at the base,” Kylo says softly, running a thumb over Hux’s hot, damp cheekbone. Disbelief rises in Hux—disbelief and suspicion and dangerous, dangerous hope. “How about that, General? Live for me and I’ll tell you why.”

The long look Hux gives him is the same as before, careful and calculating. Appraising. Kylo kneels and lets himself be judged, wishing deeply, desperately, to be found honest and true for once in his wretched life.

Something clicks in Hux’s eyes, his expression shuttering. Kylo doesn’t know what it means—but Hux is leaning forward in the next moment, putting his arm over Kylo’s shoulders and Kylo just doesn’t kriffing care.

Kylo wraps his own arm around Hux’s slim waist, keeping the pressure light on the boils he can feel under the thin fabric as Hux finally, finally helps himself up on shaky arms and legs. It takes two false starts to get him to stand by himself—and this time, when Hux’s knees buckle under him, Kylo is there to hold him up.ba

#Kylux Summer Fest 2020 #kylux #Kylo Ren #Armitage Hux #Star Wars #Cai does words #finished fics #kyluxxoxo just hit me on the head and demanded I write something for it #so here we are #I finished this in record time for me #now it's time to get back to my KBB work

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arthurflecksgirl · 4 years ago

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Hi there. First of all, I love your writing! I really need Arthur right now. I'm in the ER. Forgive the gross details but I have severe pain and swelling in my right breast along with a rash. I'm 38 years old. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer at 43. I'm scared to death. Unfortunately, with the COVID situation, no one can go back with patients. I'm sitting here all alone. Can you write something where Arthur comforts me through the pain and takes care of me afterwards. Really fluffy. 🥰

I am so sorry to hear about what you have to go through!!! I'm sending you love and strengh! 💗 Writing this for you would be an honor.

Do you want Arthur to stay at the hospital with you,too????

Thank you for the nice words and that you trust my writing enough to send me this request.

Stay strong! 💗

UPDATE

I just finished it and I really, really hope its comforting and I really hope it is what you wished for, <3 If not let me know and I will write another one.

I hope you are doing okay!!! <3

Sending love , strengh and a lot of kisses from Arthur <3

It was quiet. Way too quiet inside these four walls of white. The sterile look of the hospital room was starting to make you feel isolated. Isolated from the world outside your window, from yourself. From life. It felt like life was what kept going on ouside, while you were here, waiting for the doctors to tell you what the swelling in your right breast could mean. You never felt so alone in your whole life.The loneliness kept creeping in on you and the only one who yould take it away was him. You checked the clock. Not long until he will be here. Thank god. You couldnt take it any longer without having him by your side. Your hand reached down your purse as you pulled out a little note that he wrote you the last time he visited: "You are the strongest person I have ever known. I can taste the bravery within you with every kiss. I´m all yours - Arthur" You read it again and again, your eyes watering from love. Arthur was truly the most caring, loving person you ever met. Just simply holding his hand filled you with new energy to make it another day. Arthur thought this was ironic, because he saw himself as someone broken. You kept telling him that the sun was still shining in its brightest light between the cracks. "You`re not broken" you used to tell him "You are open where life left its cracks. open to receive the love you deserve". He was your anchor and you were his. Two people having each others backs, no matter what. No matter what life served you. You faced it together. Hand in hand, ready to heal each others wounds with the unconditional love you held within. There was nothing in the world you couldn`t face with him on your side. You put the note beside the small table beside your hospital bed and turned on the tv. Some comedy shows aired . You knew that Arthur would love them and watch them all day with you, while cuddeling up on theYou couch. You missed his couch. The old one with the worn out blankets and cushions which smelled like his hair. You missed sharing a blanket with him, feeling the heat of his body warming up your heart. You just coudnt wat to get home to apartment 8J again and fall asleep in his protective arms. You knew that Arthur was more than hurt about the whole situation,too. You were the person who helped him getting better when his depression hit worst. To him it was just as hard to be home alone as it was for you to stay at the hospital. You knew he suffered from insomnia when he was alone. All you wanted was the two of you being together again as soon as possible. You switched through the channels and stopped at a show you knew Arthur would like, knowing knew exactly which jokes would be the ones which make him laugh the hardest. You smiled. Some day he will be on tv when you turn it on. It was obvious. Arthur was a great comedian. His humor was just very special, so some people wouldnt get it. Bu in your opinion that was the whole point. To have your own, original kinda humor. It`s the only way to be remembered by the audience. Arthur knew that you belived in him and it meant the world. Your heart made a little jump as the door opened. "Hey Y/N, my love. I`m here." his presence already filled the room as his foot crossed the doorway in a way only dancers did. There was something so special about his aura. The energy radiating around him always made you feel like home. Even here. Home was where he was. "Hi Arthur! I´m so glad you`re here. I missed you like crazy." You took a deep breath. There was nothing like him caring for you. He put the big, brown paper bag on the floor and hugged you carefully so your chest wouldn`t hurt. "Same. If only you knew how much I have missed you at night." his brown curls fell tickelish onto your neck. You could smell his shampoo. Finally a familiar scent around here. You tried to breathe it in as deep as possible as your hand stroke the back of his head. "How are you feeing, darling?" he asked as your embrace loosened. "Not so good" you admitted "There is still pain in my chest and I`m just scared. But I feel better now that you are here". Arthur glanced at you with his worried puppy eyes while he took you hand "I`m so sorry you have to go through this. i wish I could take the pain away from you. I would carry it for you. All of it. You know that right?" You tried to fight the tears coming. he was just too good to be true "I know, Artie. " "But you`re not alone in this" he sqeezed your hand three times, which was your subtile meaning for "I love you". "I am right here. And I won`t leave your side. Ever. We will get through this together. If there is anyting you need...." You sqeezed back "The only thing I need right now is you. " Arthur smiled "Hey, I got a little surprise for you. " You felt yourself smiling from ear to ear "What is it?" "Its in my bag" Arthur bend over to get his ukulele "I...um.....well..." he seemed kinda nervous as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I was awake all night so I wrote you a song". "Arthur oh my god, are you serious?" you coudnt belive how cute he was. His facial features so innocent for a man at his age. "Yeah.. I dont know if it´s good enough. I mea I wanted it to be perfect but sometimes I am not as good with words. I mean they dont come out the same way they sound like in my head but...." "Oh Artie, I am sure it´s perfect. Thats so sweet of you. I`m speechless." He nodded, his eyebrow lifted for a second "Well...I really really hope you like it. But I`m pretty nervous about that. " You watched him putting his finers to the strings "I think I have never heard you sing before." He chuckled "I know....Thats why I´m nervous. I usually only sing to myself". His confession made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. For a moment you even forgot about the pain. Arthur closed his eyes as he started to sing : "At night When my demons fight I imagin your hand Us walking barefoot through the sand Weightless And I understand What it feels like to be loved"

His soft voice hit you right in the feels. There was so much going on between the lines. The details of his beautiful face while he kept his eyes closed. The wrikles beneath his eyes. His thin lips moving. Eyebrows twitching. You couldnt stop watching his gentle fingers playing the ukulele. You knew that this was personal. Arthur was dreaming about going to California since his childhood. He yearned about it in his diary.

"A breeze is blowing through your hair Just know I will be there When darkness is closing in Through all the fight We carry light within...."

Arthurs voice cracked. He shook his head "I´m sorry.... I...I`m just getting so emotional over this..." "Arthur! That was so beautiful" you reached for his hand and he grabbed yours immediately. "You`re singing voice....it`s so soft and soothing. It really calms the storms." Arthur hugged the ukulele with his free hand "Aww, thank you for saying that. This means a lot to me. I really wanted to create something special for you..." "You did, Arthur. It was wonderful. For a moment I even forgot about everything else". He put his instrument beside,sat down next to you and leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. "Never forget how much I love you Y/N." You took his hand and within seconds your fingers enterwined "i`m so scared, Arthur. I`m scared of my life." Arthur put your hands upon his lips to kiss them gently "I know sweetheart" he breathed into the spaces between your knuckles "What did the doctors say?" "I can go home soon but I have to come back for more tests". Arthurs warm breath filled the space between your palms and his "And I will be on your side. You`re my treasure, my whole world. I will not let anything happen to you, okay? Everything is going to be okay". You looked into his green eyes which pierced you with the intensivity of an unknown world. You trusted him more than anyone else. If Arthur told you that it`s going to be okay, you just knew he must be right. And even if you had to fight hard before its going to be okay. In the end it will be. "Can you just hold me in your arms?" you asked him silently. Arthur didnt hesitate to sit down on your bed and leaned towards you, so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders. "You feel like home, Arthur". He kissed you softly on the forehead. There was no better playce in the world as in his arms. No matter if this all took place in a hospital room. Right now it was home. "Remember when I thought I coudlnt find the strengh to fight anymore?" You nodded. Arthur reached this point many times in my life. His reasons might differ from yours, but still he knew what it meant to suffer, to feel all alone, to be afraid of not being strong enough. He knew too well. "There is so much more strengh inside of us than we think about ourselfs. You tought me that Y/N." A smile crossed your lips "I remember" "And when all of this is over" Arthur pointed at the ukulele "We`re gonna go to the beach, making music together, writing songs about how we made it through this. We`re gonna lie under the palm trees and be excited about how blue the sky is. That kinda blue you would never see out here in Gotham. I`ll collect you the most beautiful seashells I can find and at night I will sing you lullabies until you fall asleep. How does that sound to you?" Your eyes focused his red ukulele. Red was his favourite color. "That sounds wonderful, darling. I just wish this could be true". "It will be" he said. "I never thought I would find someone to see the real me. To love me. And it happened. Good things do happen Y/N. We will go to California and do all those things together. And all of this" he pointed at the room you were in "....will be a faded memorie of something we faced together. Nothing more." he pulled you closer and kissed your lips. The taste of coffee lingering on his lips. Somehow despite all that fear that was inside of you, everything he said made sense. If you thought of the future, this right now would only be a memory. A story you could tell others to help them having faith that everything is going to be okay. "I`m already saving money" he sounded excited about what he was going to tell you "You know...I wanted it to be a surprise but I guess I will already tell you now. I just know it will cheer you up." The wrinkles beneath his eyes showed as he smiled at you. "I just got a new job!" "What? Arthur? Where? Thats great. How?" He wiped one of his stubborn curls out of his face "Remember when I was at the little boys birthday four weeks ago? The one with the father who works for a tv show?" "Sure, yeah I remember". "His dad saw me as Carnival and he really liked what I was doing. He invited me to work for them. They will hire me for a couple of weeks and if everything is going rightthey will accept me in their team. Can you belive this? Me working for a tv show!" "I´m so happy to hear that. Thats your dream, Arthur". He kissed the back of your hand "My dream is you to feel better again, honey. You to be healthy and happy". He looked up to the small tv screen playing comedy shows "But it will allow us to go to California! All you have to do is to get better, okay?" "I will, Artie. I promise to try my best" Arthur stroke your hair "I know" he whispered "You always do". He reached down to his brown paper back again and puled out a bag of goodies "Look what I made for you. Another night of insomnia. So I wanted to make the best out of it." He handed you the small bag for you to take a look. "Just reach down and pull one out" he chuckled. Your fingers searched for the goodies and you couldnt help but giggle as you saw what he did. Little gingerbread men that looked like clowns. "Artie. Ohhhhhh.....I don`t even know what to say. You made them all by yourself? What other talents have you been hiding from me?" Arthur shrugged "I found this old receipe that used to hang on my kitchen wall. I havent baked one in ages. Look, he has a little hat!" "And a little flower thing" Arthur nodded "So you like it?" "Arthur. I dont like it. I love it. You`re just the sweetest. I can`t belive how luckyI am...." your eyes started watering. "Oh no, Y/N. Don`t cry! Please!" "Those are happy tears" "Oh...I see" to Arthur happy tears were a mistery. His laughing condition was kinda the opposite to it. A painful laughter that had nothing to do with feeling happy at all. He never experienced something like happy tears in his whole life. So seeing you crying while telling him you felt good was something he tried to understand. You took a bite from the gingerbread clown "They look so cute, I feel bad eating them". Arthur couldnt help but giggle again "Oh, I can make tons of these when we get back home. " "Thank you, Arthur. They are delicious. I feel so much better since you arrived. I wish you could stay for the night. Another night without you is going to be aweful. I just wanna go home." "Should I talk to the doctors and ask them if we could get you home for the night?" "They said I could go home for a short amount of time tomorrow. So it`s one more lonely night". Arthur fed you another small gingerbread clown "I`m with you in my thoughts, you know that rIght? I`m gonna bake you more of these little buddies. And when you get back home we will eat a whole bowl of them together." "Sounds like you have no more trouble eating?" "It got better " he nodded. "I am so happy to hear that, Arthur". "Another thing I thought would never chance. I remember a time when I wasnt even able to eat one bite without getting sick." "Yeah you put on some weight. I love to see it". "You better come home soon or i´ll bake and eat so much cake by myself , I will not fit into my suit anymore until you`re back." he joked. Arthur put his forehead against yours and kissed the tip of your nose. You both chuckled as the door opened. It was the doctor. His face lighted up as he saw you laughing "Oh Ms. Y/N. I`m glad to see you smile." Arthur turned around "She is feeling a lot better now". "Is that true Ms. Y/N?" "Yes doctor!" "See, we checked the tests we have done so far and it´s possible for you to go home over night. Please be back two days from now for more tests, okay?" "Really`?" The doctor nodded "Two days will be fine". Arthur fell back into your arms with tears in his eyes. Thats when you noticed. Happy tears. "Arthur! You are crying happy tears!" He wiped the tear from his cheek " I guess so. I had no idea that they feel so good! I`m gonna take you home with me. We will be able to sleep in our own bed tonight." You thanked the doctor as Arthur started to pack your stuff. He didnt even knew he was capeable to produce happy tears. This felt like a miracle to him. Half an hour later you left the hospital together and took the next bus to go home. You couldnt wait to enter apartment 8J, to breathe in the familiar smell, to fall on the couch and doze away within the comfort of Arthurs arms. As Arthur put the keys into the lock and opened the door it was just as you imagined. The welcoming atmosphere of home. "I`m so glad to be back" "I can imagin" he said "Sometimes I felt this way, after I came back from Arkham" he looked down "Other times I didnt. Depending on what was going on with my mum. Sit down baby, I will make you a hot cup of tea. You sat down on the couch, watching Arthur disappear in the kitchen, bowling some water. Funny, how special it can feel to just sit on the couch and feel the familiar fabric on your skin. You turned on the tv "Darling, Charlie Chaplin is on. Do you wnat to watch it?" "Sure" he came back with the tea and handed it to you "Careful, its still very hot". He headed to the bedroom to take your fave blanket and wrapped you up in it. "I wrapped myself up in this last night, because I missed you so damn much and it smells just like you. I finally fell asleep after I baked for hours.. Don`t go to the kitchen. It`s still a mess." He looked worried but happy at the same time. Happy that you finally sat on the couch again. "Let me know what else I can do" "Just come here" you lifted the blanket for him to crawl under. You felt Arthurs tiney body coming closer as you took your first sip of tea. "Arthur, can I rest my head in your lap?" "Sure, darling" he lay down on the couch and waited for you to get in the right position. Changing the position once again caused you pain. Arthur realized and started to caress the hurting parts of your boody in small, careful circles. "Oh baby, it hurts me to see you in pain. Just tell me how you want to be touched, okay?" "Thats just perfect, Artie" you whispered back, feeling his gentle hand moving up and down, like he was about to heal you from within. "i wish I could ment the pain" he muttered. "Oh, you already do. Belive me. That was all I needed while being at the hospital. Your hands on my hurting body. I can only relax when you`re near."

Your head rested peacefully in his lap while he stroke your hair and leaned towards you to place a kiss onto your forehead before he pulled up the blanket so it covered both of your bodies. Watching Chaplin together felt just as magical as it did at your first date together. You both laughed at the same jokes. He truly spoke the same language as you. Just as Arthur`s life , yours had it´s ups and downs. Sometimes it seemed like you were all alone, facing an invisible shadow. But that was just something your mind was trying to tell you. The truth was that there was always someone who felt the same. Who fought the same fight. There was always hope. And love. You let your hand slit under his shirt and caressed his skin "Mhhhh...you feel so good. I missed this so much". "Me too" he whispered "All of this will make us only stronger in the end. And we`ll grow closer together. Like we always do". Arthurs soothing voice started to humm into your ear. The pain in your chest was still there but it didnt had control over your mind anymore. It was Arthur. He was holding your whole universe together. And you knew. You just knew. Everything was going to be okay.

#arthur fleck #arthurfleck #arthur fleck joker #joker #joker movie #joker 2019 #joaquinphoenix #joker joaquin phoenix #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck fanfiction #joker fanfiction #joker fanfic #joker arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine #joker imagine #comfort

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 6 years ago

Text

Humans are Space Orcs “Dihydrogen Monoxide”

Hello, everyone, I hope you are having a good week, and I hope you enjoy reading. Please feel free to critique comment, ask a question, request an idea or a prompt :)

The humans stood aboard the spaceship in near darkness shuffling nervously as they waited. Captain Kelly stood next to one of the UN representatives: She was a stern woman with a stiff resolve, but she was clearly very uncomfortable aboard the alien spaceship. This would have been her first venture off world. She hadn’t even visited Mars yet

As of that current moment they had been waiting in the ship for almost two hours. They had been told that Lieutenant Vir was being shipped in, one his way from the medical facility, and would be there within the next few hours. The aliens had wanted to wait until all the humans were together before allowing them onto the central planet.

Turns out there was another important reason for Vir’s contribution to alien science. As expected, diseases could be carried over from planet to planet. To allow them onto the planet, the entire population would have to be inoculated against human disease, and in turn, they would have to be inoculated against alien diseases. Vir would have received his at the medical facility, they received theirs earlier in the day. It was a little disconcerting knowing that the vaccines had only been tested on one human, but members of the Galactic Assembly had assured them that, out of necessity, they had become very proficient at creating vaccines.

Either way, no one was experiencing any adverse effects, yet.

One of the soldiers slumped down in the darkness to rest his legs.

The tension remained for another thirty minutes before a door in the side of room hissed open and a human figure stepped into the room. A stream of decontamination fog spilling around him. The youthful face of lieutenant Vir peered at them through the gloom blinking, “Who turned the lights off.” He wondered.

Members of the crew got up to greet him breaking the tense silence with some friendly teasing.

“Look its alien boy, finally got to live your dreams getting probed by aliens.”

The lieutenant rolled his eyes brushing condensation form his skin, “I’ve had army physicals more invasive than getting probed by aliens.” He leaned against the wall as the rest of the soldiers crowded around him. The kid seemed rather excited to be getting all of the attention, and despite herself, Captain Kelly moved closer to listen as he talked animatedly about his lone experience with the aliens.

“What did they want?”

“Mostly like specimens and stuff, skin, hair, saliva. You should have seen them freaking out over stomach acid. Looking at me like they thought I was going to melt into a puddle on the floor. Oh also, they totally think we are nasty. Apparently the amount of bacteria and vaccines they had to synthesize was…. Uh…. What did they say…. Unprecedented. “

The UN official moved forward to listen in, “Really, I never assumed…”

Vir shrugged, “Well we always knew that there was more bacteria on the human body than there are cells of human in the human body.

The crew murmured in surprise, but just then, another decontamination door opened up and one of the aliens stepped in.

It was a Rundi; that much Kelly knew. She was only beginning to learn all the new species names, and was still slow on the uptake. She was sure that lieutenant Vir already had their names, genetic phylum and species memorized. He was like that, the kid was like a sports geek collecting baseball cards, accepted he collected aliens. She walked past his room once, and the entire place was plastered in sketches and drawings of the aliens that they had already cataloged.

The Rundi greeted them with a bow of its insectoid head, “The inoculation has been complete. The atmosphere should be compatible for you.”

The UN woman adjusted her suit, “We thank you.”

The creature bowed at them again, and then scuttled across the room stopping by the far wall before pressing a button. Vir had moved forward towards the front of the room eyes wide with curiosity.

A burst of sunlight flooded through the cargo bay, and the humans lifted their eyes against the light. The Alien seemed rather confused at their reaction. The blinding light took longer to wear off for her than anyone else, she heard the gasps of shock and wonder before finally blinking her eyes open exposing her face to a waft of hot air.

Her eyes widened in shock and surprise.

Exposed as they were to a glittering white city and hundreds of aliens staring at them from a ten meter radius.

***

The strange creatures stepped from the ship and into the light of their Starr, they were tall, and walked on ONLY TWO LEGS. The entire crowd shifted back in mild anxiety upon spotting their eyes. They were forward facing, and pared with two rows of sharp glittering teeth. The eyes rolled around in their head tracking up and down the crowd with those slimy white orbs. The small dots within widened and shrank as if their brains were targeting systems set ready to kill.

Though they waked on two legs, their bodies moved with a fluid, and perfectly balanced grace. Whey they stopped, they still managed to balance even despite their completely unusual distribution of weight. The endo-skeleton allowed the crowd to watch as the muscles moved beneath their skin.

Hesitantly, one of the creatures approached the barricade. The crowd pulled back in worried tension. The creature stopped, “Uh…. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The other creatures jiggled their heads in an odd motion before agreeing with the first.

The crowd finally allowed the strange predators to approach, moving around them like they would ravenous desert lurkers.

***

The first problem they encountered when dealing with the humans happened a few hours into the day, it was hot and the humans were beginning to lag in their energy levels. They had been meeting many very important people throughout the day, and they were all hot and tired, this planet ranged about eighty to ninety degrees throughout the day. They had met up with another member of the council who had attempted to greet them in a human fashion, Moments after their hands made contact, the creature’s arm burst out into a horrible purple rash, apparently very painful.

The UN woman looked down at her hand as medical personnel pulled the representative away holding his arm out in front of him in horror. Humans and aliens staring alike, they all noted no such rash on the woman’s hands. They were quarantined for almost half the day after that incident while they attempted to identify the bacteria that had done the damage. Turns out they found some sort of chemical irritant.

By the tie they came into test, the humans had cooled off, and, once her hand’s had been swabbed, no chemical was found. It was a complete mystery, so the humans were finally let out into the sun, which had only grown more intense.

Soon the heat was growing oppressive as the humans desperately looked around for a water source.

Eventually they made it towards the Galactic assembly entrance, and one of the humans spotted something the assembly hoped they would overlook. It was a dihydrogen monoxide pit quarantined by a high wall and multiple caution lines.

By this time the humans were practically sagging under the sun. The aliens didn’t know what to do for them, they didn’t understand what they needed. Were they about to keel over and die, was there something in the atmosphere. What was happening?

And then the humans saw the pit, and the worst thing imaginable happened, one of them responded, “F*** it, I’m dying.” And broke into a run towards the pit. The aliens screamed confused by the translation.

The human had chosen to die!

They tried to stop him, but he leaped over the caution lines setting off alarms before pitching himself over the wall and into the burbling pit of poison. Screaming all around, security officers raced from the building running as close to the edge as they dared expecting to watch as the human shriveled up as it’s juices were sucked into the water.

But, instead, they found the human floating on his back in the substance ducking under before coming back up gasping a serene look on his face. A couple of the humans joined in unable to contain themselves.

The one named Captain Kelly and their leader stayed behind both looking oddly sick and envious as they watched the other humans frolicking in the deadly liquid.

“What is the meaning of this?!” One of the officers demanded

The UN woman raised her hand playacting, “It’s just water…. I don’t.”

The security officer jabbed an appendage at the water, “Dihydrogen monoxide is a deadly poison to some of the species on this world, you can’t just play in it.”

Knowledge was beginning to dawn on Captain Kelly, “I…. our world is covered 2/3s by water. We need it to survive. Our bodies are over 60% water, and the heat is dehydrating us. If we don’t get water soon we will get sick.”

The officer stared at her incredulous.

“You’re not serious.”

“Yes we are, please they’re just thirsty. It’s the one thing we need before everything else.” Captain Kelly was growing desperate now. She was so thirsty.

“You drink poison?” The guard asked again.

“Yes, yes we do…..” She paused, and then it dawned on her, “I, yes and it comes out of our skin to keep us cool in heat, that’s what happened earlier, the council woman’s hands were sweaty and that’s why the representative broke out.”

All around them the alien creatures paused in surprise and confusion. They hadn’t even considered that.

***

A couple minutes later, Captain Kelly had retrieved her unit from the poison pit, and made them to stand out to dry before bringing them inside. Once there, a hazmat team came bearing bowls of water. Members of the Assembly looked on in horror as the humans downed what must have been gallons of poison. Bowl after bowl was brought to them until they seemed satisfied.

There were going to have to be laws and precautions put in place for this. As it turned out water made up pretty much everything in the human body, making them toxic to a small minority of Gamma class species. The two would be able to interact on a small time basis assuming the human wasn’t sweating, but in a climate like this that was almost impossible to secure.

In short, humans drank poison and could be toxic.

#humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #earth is space australia

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