#this felt somewhat integrated

[elizabethwydevilles]

I think that 'you're like a father too me' vs 'you were my brother' is crucial in understanding the Anakin and Obi-Wan dynamic and their particular brand of dysfunctional communication.

[forhyune]

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 (besides myself)・l.f.

— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

words・5.4k

pairing・lee felix x gn!reader

genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline

warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown

playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker

a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)

I. everything

“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”

Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.

You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”

Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.

“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”

Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).

You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.

You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth. 

Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.

The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”

“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.

“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.

“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”

Byeol started to laugh.

Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.

This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.

“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.

His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Please.”

Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.

“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”

Oh.

Oh.

You might just continue your lineage after all.

“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.

He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”

Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.

“P-pretty.” I knew it!

The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.

“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.

The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.

He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.

“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”

“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”

You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.

“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”

Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.

“Will you be around much, then?”

You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.

“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.

It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”

Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”

As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.

It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.

“Be around,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.

II. has changed

Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.

“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.

“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”

“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.

As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”

“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”

“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”

That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.

Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.

You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.

Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.

You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.

The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies. 

“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.

Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.” 

With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost. 

Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.

It was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.

Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place. 

The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?

Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”

Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.

“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”

For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.

“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”

“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”

“Do you see animal control anywhere?”

“Good point.”

Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.

“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”

“It’s just that—”

Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.

“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”

His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.

Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.

“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”

You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”

He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”

“Happier.”

He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?” 

“Even happier.”

His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.

“GET A ROOM!”

You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.

“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.

“It had to be you.”

“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”

“You cuss like one too!”

“Because of you!”

“So we’re just lying now?”

“Well, yes.”

Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”

“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”

After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Being my happiness.”

He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.

Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.

III. (besides myself)

He’s blonde.

That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.

It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.

But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.

You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.

“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.

You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.

You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”

“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.

You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.

“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.

The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.

“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.

“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”

“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.

Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”

She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”

And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.

“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.

A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.

Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.

“Hi,” he says.

You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.

“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”

The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.

“—nice,” you finish.

“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.

Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t do it for me.”

No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead. 

For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.

Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.

“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”

On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.

That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.

It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too. 

With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?

After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.

You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.

Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”

This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“Not even Snernard.”

“M’kay.”

“Or Bong.”

“M’kay.”

“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.

“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.

All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.

Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.

“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.

“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”

Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”

“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”

The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.

“No,” she replies.

“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”

“No,” she repeats.

“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”

His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“We do.”

You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.

“We?” He repeats, and she nods.

“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—

“But what is your dream?”

It becomes too much for you.

You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.

You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.

Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.

You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.

But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.

Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.

Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.

You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”

You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.

“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”

Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.

“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

[carouselunique]

Here you go!

Bonus Explanations for the Elements:

I treat the Elements as the values being the same throughout it's just how the bearers choose to interpret those values is how they end up being defined. In a sense the original Mane Six and the Swap Six all have similar values but express them somewhat differently.

Roseluck: Element of Inspiration - Rose inspires others to be their best selves, she is inspired to strive toward her dreams through her friendships and wants to pay that forward.

(Element of Generosity - Rarity focuses on what she can give to others while Rose focuses on bringing out what one already has.)

Ditzy Doo: Element of Cheer - Ditzy always delivers a smile, a cheesy mail joke, a wing to lean on, a feathery shoulder to cry on so you can feel better, someone to remember you and make you feel seen etc. She makes others feel lighter and cheerier and that cheer spreads to others in a domino effect!

(Element of Laughter - Ditzy doesn't mainly focus on laughter the way Pinkie does because she believes not everyone needs a laugh to feel cheer. Pinkie is more of a clown type while Ditzy is, well, more of a motherly type)

Sea Swirl: Element of Trust - If you put your trust into Sea, she won't let you down. She is honest sort, even if you sometimes have to take a leap of faith that you aren't sure about at first. Sea will uphold your belief in her with a trustworthiness that makes you want to be someone that others trust as well.

(Element of Honesty - AJ treats her Element as a very literal value while Sea doesn't feel the need to say every true thing outloud, more that you know that she is someone who's words and actions you can inherently trust even if she isn't always literally honest.)

Ginger Gold: Element of Integrity - No matter what ambitions Ginger has, she will always have the integrity to stick by her friends and family and do the right thing. Her integrity and willingness to do what's right by those she cares for no matter what even at the cost of her own goals makes everyone around her a little more honorable in turn.

(Element of Loyalty - It's nearly the same here more just that in my head, Rainbow will be loyal to her friends because they're her friends while Ginger Gold will have integrity because it is something she believes one should just always have and by having that she can be loyal to her friends - not to say one is more noble than the other, that is just how they see it if they're asked to really define it.)

Sunny Rays: Element of Empathy - Sunny is, as her name suggests, as warm as the sun. She is soft and understanding and empathetic and seeing everyone as being worth a chance at being seen and their issues felt allows everyone a kinder view of situations.

(Element of Kindness - Sunny Rays sees empathy as different than kindness, especially as she develops. She can have empathy and not always be kind as someone might see it and someone can be kind but not understand the point of view through an empathetic lens and therefore be kind but not empathetic. Of course it's a struggle to balance how to be kind and empathetic or when kindness has to stop because you know it is hindering your understanding of a situation, etc.)

Minuette: Element of Friendship - Her friendship brought the group together and allowed them to share their best values with each other and her realization that you should make time not just for academic exploration and what we can discover but for the cultivation of emotional and social development and that we need our connections with others to be truly happy helps other realize what truly counts.

(Element of Magic - In my head, Twilight calls it Magic because she believes that Friendship is a form of Magic a flaw that shows up in the later seasons where friendship is treated as something inherent and almost religious in a sense? At least to me? While Minuette believes that the Magic comes second to the Friendship and can only occur if one works on Friendship and treats the Magic of Friendship as something you work at and feel more than it is literal magic.)

[bohoteacher]

Navigating Betrayal: Reconciling Admiration with Disillusionment

Like many Neil Gaiman fans this month, I've been shocked and distressed by the news regarding the SA allegations. I won't go over the details, as they're readily available online. I'll start by saying that I believe the accusers, and even the most lenient interpretation of events is still troubling enough to discredit Gaiman. For a long time, I didn't know what to say. I was just shocked and, somewhat naively, felt betrayed. I don't typically idolize actors, authors, or other public figures—I'm here for the characters, they're who I love and believe in. So, how did I end up believing in this man and his rhetoric?

I only had a parasocial relationship with him, which is to say no real relationship at all. But I took his Masterclass on writing, spent hours taking notes, and learned from him. I feel betrayed by someone I saw as a beloved teacher. I know this is insignificant compared to what the women who came forward experienced, but it's a valid feeling, and I needed time to process it. My initial reaction was to throw out and discount everything he’s ever written or done—of course it was.

This isn't just about my love for Good Omens, although how can it not be? I learned so much from this man—about writing, about not being too hard on myself, about the creative process. I read his books to my middle school classes, and we all learned how to be better people from them. Today, I saw and bought Instructions, a children’s book by Neil Gaiman illustrated by Charles Vess, from the used bookstore where I volunteer. It was a used copy, so no royalties will go to him. It’s a beautifully illustrated book where the main character walks through a land that clearly symbolizes life, learning lessons like saying please and "if any creature cries to you that it hurts, if you can, ease its pain." How could someone write this and then do what he did? I asked myself. "What an evil hypocrite," was my first thought. But then I recalled a line from another author, Stephen King. In The Stand, a character is described as "awake at the lectern, but asleep at the switch," meaning they know the right thing to do and can talk about it, but in the moment of choice, they act without integrity.

I don’t know if I’m making sense, but I think it’s too easy to label Gaiman as simply evil, as if he intentionally manipulated us by saying the right things just to make us read or watch his creations. The reality is likely far more complicated. Within this man is the amazing, thought-provoking, life-affirming wisdom that many of us have tried to live by, but also the hard, thoughtless, selfish cruelty that led him to abuse young, vulnerable women. The wisdom does not justify the abuse, and the abuse does not nullify the wisdom.

I think it's too simplistic to say Gaiman is despicable and always has been, hiding it from us all along. This doesn't acknowledge the complexity of human nature—that there is potential for both good and bad within us all. As it’s said, possibly by Terry Pratchett or possibly by Neil Gaiman, “It may help to understand human affairs to be clear that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused, not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people.”

Gaiman is a man who has done some fundamentally good things and some fundamentally bad things. I can’t forget either one.

This is just my opinion. I know some people want to cancel him, while others want to exonerate him. You do you. As for me, I will continue to love Aziraphale and Crowley. I will continue to read and create fan-fiction. I will continue to find comfort and wisdom in books that have meant so much to me over the years. But I will also remember that they were created by a very flawed man whom I can no longer trust.

I understand that opinions on this matter vary widely. I know some people might feel that not discarding everything associated with him is wrong, but this is where I stand. I’m not looking to debate this or be told how I should react. I just needed to process my thoughts in writing and move forward in the way that feels right for me.

[odinsblog]

“I'm observing such a huge gap between different social groups that I didn't even realize were different. I, you know, most of my friends are in the media. A lot of my journalist friends are just much better informed.

A lot of them have had experience reporting in Israel, Palestine, and are quite critical of both Israel and the antisemitism narrative. Then, like, my wife is a lawyer, and her circle is a little bit different, right? It's not dominated by media people, like people in the law or in other professions seem to be broadly much more kind of taken by the sense of profound insecurity and shift in the American Jewish experience.

I think we sort of see different things, for example, when we watch the hearings in Congress on antisemitism on campus.

The university presidents, of which there have now been two hearings, one with three presidents, one with the president of Colombia, and there will be many, many more. And what I see is a right-wing campaign against higher education that is weaponizing antisemitism as an idea, right? Not antisemitism as a practice.

And what they see is, with the possible exception of the president of Colombia, is people who represent institutions or lead institutions that they feel an affinity with, often institutions that they graduated from, who are not standing up for them. Which I find that viewing of those hearings somewhat shocking because people seem to be turning off their critical faculties. But people, intelligent, educated, politically astute people don't turn off their critical faculties unless they're scared.

So I think the underlying fear is real. But just because it's real, it doesn't mean it's justified.

I think a factual account of what we're seeing on campuses now is that this generation of Americans is far more critical of Israel than their parents' generation. And this is true of both Jews and non-Jews. I think that they look at information available to them and they see a 57-year brutal illegal occupation.

And they don't understand how it's possible that their parents and the politicians that their parents support and the politicians who come and give commencement addresses and all that other stuff that I can say about politicians, how it is possible that these people support that state? I think that is an entirely understandable view. It also reflects a huge generation gap.

I think some of those young people are assholes, and some of them are antisemites. I think it's a small minority of the protesters, and it is not actually part of the critique. The protesters' demands, the protesters' organizing beliefs are not in any way or shape antisemitic.

And then there are Jewish students who were brought up Zionist, who were brought up to identify strongly with the state of Israel, who are, I think, a little bit like my cousin in the settlements again. They see these protests, and even probably the participation of their fellow Jewish students in these protests, as threatening their core identity, as threatening their ties to their families, as threatening everything that they were taught for the first 18 years of their lives is true. And of course they feel rattled, of course they feel unsettled, of course they feel threatened.

Like, wouldn't you, if you felt that everything you had believed in was being turned on its head, and if you, by apparently reasonable people? And so you have a couple of options. One is to look at what the protestors are saying, to engage with the facts, to engage with the critique of everything you've ever believed.

There was a terrific, George Curran's podcast a couple of weeks ago with three Columbia students, one of whom sort of narrated that kind of trajectory, getting to university and finding this stuff out and having their mind blown. That's a very difficult path, and it's a very difficult path, especially if you are, say, a first year student in 23, 24.

And then there's the easier path of staying integrated in your community, in your beliefs, and saying this is antisemitic.

Because unfortunately the things that the protestors are talking about are so horrible that you can't say, okay, let's agree to disagree, that you can't hold both of these things in your mind at the same time.

You can't continue to hold your family's uncritical, long-standing support of Israel, and an understanding of what is happening in Gaza and the occupation that has preceded the war in Gaza.

So yeah, of course they feel rattled. That doesn't mean that they're being surrounded by antisemitism.”

—Masha Gessen, the descendant of Holocaust survivors, discusses campus protests (part 3 of 3)

[somewhereincairparavel]

If Jason had been written to have atleast somewhat of a jealousy streak of Percy, then it would have made him more human tbh. Ironically I feel like the fandom would've been much more empathetic to his character, if he acknowledged that he envied Percy a little and then came to terms with it. We know that Jason's fear of being 2nd best is a very integral part of his character, I mean, Gaia taunting him with that in his nightmares was enough to reduce him into tears. and that's the ONLY time we've even remotely seen him cry. Percy had so many things Jason didn't have, a loving mom, a loving girlfriend who took a knife for him and never broke his heart, a loving camp that looked for him endlessly after he went missing, people ACTUALLY wanting him to survive because they care about him not because they need him for glory, etc. and if im being honest Poseidon wasn't even that bad of a father (for a big three god, atleast) tbh he still came to percy's 15th birthday, invited him to fishing, genuinely loved sally, she was probably the only mortal he fell in love with and it stayed that way, he was never rude to percy and stuck up for him etc. not tryna say percy had it easy or anything ofc he didnt, but there is no point in denying that he had a MUCH better support system than jason ever had.

The fact that Jason despite having none of these things was not even remotely envious of Percy made him appear like a bland robot with no emotional baggage

Compare this to Nico, who was rightfully a little jealous/idolizing Percy while simultaneously having a crush on him, also a little jealous of Jason because he was "the golden boy" who everyone respected, it made him have SO much depth and the fandom loves him (rightfully so)

also, leo. He was resentful of Percy up until blood of Olympus because of how everyone loved him, how Calypso fell for him almost immediately, etc. it's very realistic.Jason feeling a little resentful of Percy and then later talking it out would've made his character much less of a shallow stereotypical nice guy that ppl dislike.

maybe Rick could've expanded on Jason's jealousy of how quickly camp Jupiter accepted Percy and how quickly Reyna made him praetor, when jason himself had dedicated his whole life to it and was only made praetor in the last couple months, how camp Jupiter and his supposed friends never held a memorial for him even after they thought he was dead, etc. Also how Percy spent more time with thalia than jason ever did, we know he did feel a little envious since he mentioned how much he wished thalia looked for him the way she was looking for percy

I would've loved to see Jason being a little cold to Reyna too because of this and then they later talk it out, since it's VERY realistic, I was surprised with how quickly jason shrugged the whole Percy- being- a -praetor thing off, I thought he'd have felt a little betrayed by Reyna considering that they were childhood friends, and reyna never really sent a search party or something after him like annabeth did, gods, the amount of angst potential this man had i love him ugh

[squidpedia]

pedia, how would a clover and lilac swap au be in your style? like, nothing else changes except for them

Lilac if they weren’t fucking around (phrase said at least 12 times while drawing with hysterical laughter and sleep deprivation). Three leaf clovers for clover because getting the role of integrity is not a lucky one,,,,,,,,

And yeah that does mean clover would be stuck sharing the amalgamate body with kanako too to me

Lilac is a very naturally distrustful person, Flowey trying to use them would be a ticking time bomb, there is not a reality where they 100% believe he has their best interest at heart. “Shady fucking flower has ulterior motives but going along with it for now is better than dying i guess” - Justice Lilac probably. I think Lilac after enough resets would be able to reach the pacifist ending and give up their soul, there’s a certain point where they don’t remember the other timelines but they feel insane amounts of unconscious guilt over the obscene amount of LOVE they gained before. Giving up their soul would go against all of their personal rules of self preservation, but I can see them doing doing it after enough time. They wouldn’t know how to explain this, it so seemingly out of character for them but its what felt right.

I think Clover would ultimately still end up dying to axis and their soul being used in chujin’s experiments. Thats integrity soul canon event to me. Original sketch of clover had them seem much more happy, but I toned down their expression to give them a more unreadable smile. Integrity clover is a little difficult to parse for me in terms of actions and intentions because I imagine them to be a very selfless person that has a difficult time acting in their own best interest (whether it be execution in the name of justice for the fallen kids or giving up their soul to help ensure a better future for monsterkind). Integrity Clover would also have special emphasis on their role as a performer rather than as a deputy, so idk, they aim to never break character, keep up a smile regardless of the things that are happening right now. The world is your audience, and the audience wants to see a smile. But meanwhile I think their actions would be a bit more morally grey and odd to track, chujin’s attempts at using the integrity serum still don’t work because the soul lacks a pure heart after all. Integrity clover has an interest in exploring and finding the truth behind mysteries, while having a somewhat mysterious way of behaving themself I guess

[therealslimshakespeare]

Hi! I’m an environmental eng girly myself so I’m sort of very interested in this (and also a new reader so please bear with me if I’m lacking on some knowledge here). The 1950s were just generally a very interesting time for women in stem/ engineering but obviously not great for equality still. For example, since you mentioned that Lu is from Texas, in the 1950s there were roughly 700 engineers working with the Highway Dpt of Texas and only THREE were women. So I’m curious, how does Lu handle/ cope with being in a field that would have her be surrounded entirely by men? She would very likely be the only women in most of her classes and professional endeavours. And I know you mentioned that when she works on that Twisters inspired Tornado project with those military boys, all of them love and adore her which I LOVE! Because she’s so smart and such a genius so it makes my heart really happy to see that that allows her to command respect 🥰 But in college, how does she manage being in a space with all these guys who might not all respect her (god like uni eng guys are a special brand of asshole, I’m not saying all of them but some…). Because I’m being so real- that is still an issue in engineering and still something that my girl friends and I have experienced/ felt 😅 And then also with environmental engineering specifically a lot of the work is sort of… rural and isolated. Like you won’t be working in a big crowded space a lot of the time. And being with all those guys, (also like… again, college guys are just a special brand of asshole? I feel like every girl would be out of her comfort zone if she were to be around only them, even now) is that something that induces anxiety for her? Does she ever worry that “putting herself in that position” is inviting anything similar to the horrific violence she’s already gone through? And then on the fluffier side, HOW does she persevere?! Because again we know she wasn’t doing well? I get the vibes from the asks that she was genuinely very depressed and not at all in a good place. So I’m just so intrigued by this era of hers. Anyways this is sooo long and convoluted feel free to ignore it haha. It’s just something that is so interesting to me I love this woman in stem so much 🥰 But yeah I’m interested in her college days and how she handles her horrible mental health, a very very shitty boyfriend and THIS on top of it all.

Oh and to add, we know that Ida worries for her often (along with the rest of the trinity), is she ever concerned about Lu being in those sorts of situations? Because Ida has so much complex trauma of her own (remember in Hardwoods how she has that thought that being alone with men is courting violence!!!!!!!!!!!) and she had to SEE Lu being assaulted? Just wondering because I love these two. And the rest of the trinity I guess. I know my parents would be🤧

Aaaaah see now you’re educating me about the Texan engineering!!! Omg that’s so cool. I knew it had to be slim pickings but goodness, three? Yeah, wow, ok then Lu, ya got your work cut out for you. Also, Nonnie, you’re so cool, I feel special for you gracing my inbox 🥰

Oh yes, just from acquaintance I am somewhat familiar with the engineer bro vibe, ha. Having come from the army has to help her a little. So far in the story we’ve focused on all the boys who love and take care of the girls as integrated into themselves, but you know there were the assholes in the 100th about it and you KNOW there were absolute pigs in the stalag, too. So it’s not a fully new issue. But, somehow this is even more secluded, likely? So, it’s intense.

I think she’s already very withdrawn during this era so she’s not trying to make friends with them all, if they’re assholes she does her best to keep her head down and then enjoys smoking them at tests or in the field. If they wanna play a practical joke to sabotage her?!- oh well, they shouldn’t have picked on Bucky Egan’s daughter. But omg, for all these women there’s the question of if they’re inviting that violence again by pursuing these careers and that’s so horrible to even be considered but it’s so real!!! My girl has her brass knuckles though, the (pretty worthless social friends from Spencer’s crowd) and a will of iron. This is the field she wants to work in, she always did and she happened to go to kindergarten in war for it but by god she’s gonna keep at it through college.

Also. Not wanting to fail. I think depressed and miserable as she might’ve been, failing (she’s so like Gale lemme go scream) would be worse than anything that could happen to her while she was trying. She’s so dogged about it, and this is something of her own, it’s not her crew and it’s not her squadron, it’s her. She’s doing this, and she might as well not get up again if she fails, I think is her attitude…when she’s so down, ya know?

Ida…for a long time Ida lives in a world where everyone could potentially be awful. She can’t contextualize it well. It takes a massive toll on her mental and bodily health, that constant alertness and suspicion and stress. Being in Germany likely only exacerbates that, tbh. Nice thought Rosie but, she’s having some severe ptsd just living amongst the language every day. 😭

[captn-trex]

make it feel better

Rex x F!Reader

word count: 4.3k

description: when scouting a new planet, you fall into a bed of flowers that you understand the effects of all too well. Captain rex is the only person around and the only one who can help you.

warnings: NSFW (18+) minors begone! sex pollen/aphrodisiacs, oral (f! recieving), pinv sex, almost voyeurism not really, some reader masturbation, swearing, little bit of praise, non-established relationship

a/n: okay so this is the first ever proper smut I've posted and I'm SCARED. do not judge me pls and thank you <3 I haven't seen any sex pollen with Rex so I thought I'd try my hand at it

The sun was only just clinging to the horizon as you made your way back to the ship, taking a shortcut through the forest. You and Rex had been scouting for a new, and safe, planet to move to, where the small rebellion you were a part of could operate without detection. This one had been uninhabited, and so far proved to be a solid contender. You had come along because of your in depth knowledge of various flora and fauna across the galaxy, and Rex deemed you the most qualified to ascertain whether or not the planet would be suitable. He also enjoyed your company but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

You and Rex had known each other for many years, as you were somewhat of a consultant to the jedi in the war. Your knowledge of different cultures and languages throughout the galaxy proved most useful, and you often became an intermediary between the Republic forces and the primitive beings you encountered. A lot of your time was spent in the field, which was where you met Rex.

The 501st had been part of a relief mission to Abednedo, where you were required for translation purposes. The Abednedo mostly spoke basic, but it was their written language that proved difficult for the Republic to understand, and with you understanding the Republic’s supply logging system, they opted to have you catalogue the supplies rather than teach the Abednedo to use it.

Rex had been uneasy around you initially, with you being someone from outside of the GAR, but he quickly warmed to you when he saw how well you integrated with the rest of his brothers. That was part of the reason that you joined his band of rebels in the first place - you definitely had a soft spot in your heart for the clones, and even more so for Rex.

Your feelings for Rex had grown steadily. Naturally, you found him to be handsome when you first met, his closely cropped blond hair making him stand out among his brothers, but your attraction for him really set in when seeing him on the battlefield, taking down almost a whole wave of droids with only two DC-17s and his own sheer will.

Though that was years ago. Now, you found yourself harbouring deeper feelings for him, feelings you had been reluctant to admit to yourself.

When Rex had found you after the end of the war, sending you a message on your encrypted comm channel, you felt like you had finally hit a stroke of luck. The transition from the Republic to the Empire was turbulent for you, to say the least. The Empire had uses for your intellect, but you had quickly become disillusioned with the whole regime when you realised the deception that they covered up in every corner of their reach. Rex had all but saved you from the Empire, and for that, you’d always be grateful to him.

Meeting him again after the end of the war, when you hadn’t seem him in some time, was like a breath of fresh air. You had never been exceptionally close with him, no closer than you were with any of the other clones at least, but upon seeing his tired and haggard figure on the other side of the hangar, you couldn’t help but speed over to him and embrace him in a tight hug. He had chuckled and returned the embrace, commenting something about ‘understanding the feeling’.

Since then, the dormant feelings you had previously harboured for him only grew. You worked closely with him, spending most of your days by his side in the command centre, helping however you could. It was an inescapable fate that you would fall for him, and now here you were, living out that very fated feeling. You had no indication from the Captain as to whether he felt the same way, and so you kept it close to your chest, electing to not tell him.

Rex had gone back to the ship to comm the others, to say that this planet you were on could be the one, while you had stayed out to investigate a few final things. The water from the natural springs was drinkable, and the small bug you had captured carried no known diseases, and so you were satisfied that this planet would do nicely. You commed Rex and let him know what you were coming back, not waiting for an answer before you switched it off. It didn't really matter whether he heard you or not, you'd be back soon.

It was dark in the forest as you cut through, but it was just bright enough to see where you were going. Mostly.

You found yourself disproved when your foot caught on a tree root and you were sent tumbling forwards with a small yelp. Thankfully, there was a thick bed of flowers that cushioned your fall, so the pain from the impact dissipated quickly. You stood and brushed yourself off, but immediately felt your nose itching, and before you knew it, you were sent into a sneezing fit. You had sneezed at least ten times before you lost count, and you stumbled forwards, resting yourself against a tree when you came to a clearing.

The orange tone of the sky cast a gentle golden light over you as you caught your breath. The sneezing subsided, but as you breathed deeply, you realised that something felt wrong.

You felt your insides burn hot, the heat spreading through your body like a wildfire. An uncomfortable feeling settled in your stomach, but it quickly twisted into a heavy pain. You doubled over, holding your stomach as it cramped up and sent shockwaves through your system.

You dug your hand into one of the pouches on your belt urgently, pulling out the small torch you carried with you. You switched it on and shined it over the bed of flowers that you had just landed in, and inspected their yellow petals and purple centre, your eyes going wide.

Fuck.

You knew exactly what flower these were, you had studied them and their effects in your time at University on Coruscant. You knew exactly what was going to happen to you, and you almost wish you didn't.

Aphrodisiacs.

You dug your heels into the ground in frustration as you threw your head back into the tree, your eyes screwed shut. The burning in your stomach was quickly transforming from a small flame to a full blown bonfire.

Somehow this was typical. This planet was so close to being perfect, and now you had to go and trip into some flowers that would cause you a pain so sensual you'd be driven out of your mind. It had to be you, didn't it?

As you were writhing against the tree, contemplating if you could really get yourself off right here, you heard your name being called and groaned quietly. Why did he have to come looking for you right now?

You tried your best to stay quiet, listening to him calling out to you and hoping that he wouldn't find you, but then he came through the treeline, his eyes finding your struggling form.

“What's wrong?” He darted over to you, at your side in an instant, and you instinctively flinched away from him. His gaze was filled with worry.

You we're clearly in some kind of pain, your skin damp with sweat and a deep blush across your cheeks.

He reached out for you as he called your name, and you moved away again, having to look away from the man that you desired fiercely at any other given moment, but especially this one.

“Rex” You breathed out, trying to keep your voice steady, “Please don't touch me”

“Why?” He asked quickly, “Is it your skin?”

“It's… everywhere, it's not going to go away, It hurts, it hurts so much” You spoke, though you weren't sure your words were even coherent.

“What hurts?” He asked more urgently, trying to get a read on the problem the best he could without touching you.

I can't tell him. I just need to get him away.

“You need to leave. Go back to the ship and wait for me” You pant.

“What? No, let me help you” He knelt down beside you, his hand itching to reach out and comfort you, “What can I do?”

“Nothing. Please go away” You begged, but he didn't understand what was going on at all. For all he knew, you could be asking him to leave you to die here.

“Please let me help you”

You let a small moan escape your lips, one hand stifling it and the other gripping at your clothes to resist from touching yourself right in front of him.

“Rex please go away” You said desperately, your head now in your hands and gripping at your hair to try and distract you.

“I can't! I can't leave you like this, are you crazy?” His voice was so exasperated, and you ground your teeth together as you shook your head in defiance.

“I need you to leave, now. Plea-” You were cut off by your own whimper escaping your lips.

The pain in your core was becoming unbearable. While you knew you couldn't die from this drug, you knew the only solution was to satisfy the intense desire that it gave you, but you would've taken death before pleasuring yourself in front of Rex.

“Cyar'ika let me help you” He said softly, coming closer to you again.

“Please don't call me that” You practically whined, your body acting without permission and splaying out of the floor, twisting back on itself.

“Tell me what's wrong” He ordered firmly, and you felt your desire for him only spiral further.

“The flowers” You exhaled, “They're making me… hot”

“Hot?”

“Yes, hot” You gritted through your teeth, your hand playing with the top button of your trousers. You had to relieve this pain soon before it became worse.

“What can I-”

“Just leave Rex!” You hissed, the pain becoming blinding, “Please leave” You were on the edge of tears, your frustration nearly matching your arousal. You continued begging, different sentence formations that included the words ‘leave’, ‘please’ and ‘Rex’ tumbling from your mouth in a last desperate attempt.

“Cyar'ika” Rex grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him, and another whimper escaped you at his touch, “I'm not leaving you”

You whined, “If you don't leave I-” You couldn't finish the sentence.

“You'll what?”

“I need to- you can't be here” You said already unbuttoning your trousers with shaking hands.

“Why not? Cyare you're not making any sense”

You'd were finally at your limit, the pain driving you insane.

“It's an aphrodisiac Rex!” You screamed, hands tightened into fists to hold yourself back.

Rex froze, “Oh”

“Yeah. Oh” You mustered up a desperate chuckle, curling up in a ball on the floor.

“What should I-”

“I don't know. I don't know, you just need to get out of here before I do something I regret” Your words tumbled over each other as you spoke.

He touched your shoulder lightly, and when you moaned at the simple gesture, he understood how bad it really was.

“Rex, leave!” You screamed at him again, your hand finally finding its way past the waistband of your underwear.

Rex immediately averted his eyes, “I'm just going to be over there, I don't want to leave you here like this”

“Whatever! Just do it!” You said, a loud moan escaping you as you fingers found themselves running easily through your slick folds.

Rex quickly moved away from you. The sounds of your moans spilling from your lips were driving him crazy, but he was also overwhelmingly worried about you. He wanted to help you, but he knew that wasn't something he could really do without… well, fucking you. The idea alone was working him up, and the sound of your moans growing more and more frustrated had his cock hardening and pressing into his codpiece uncomfortably.

“It's not working” You cried out and removed your fingers from working your clit to pull your top off, trying to at least ease some of the heat. You were at your wits end, your thoughts all blurred together.

“Rex!” You shouted helplessly, “Please come here!”

Rex ran back over to you in a flash, the sight of your body sprawled out on the floor making his heart beat out of his chest.

“It burns” You choked out, tears spilling from your eyes, “It hurts so much”

“Maybe I could help?” He suggested, letting his emotions get the better of him.

“Help?” You said in a disbelieving laugh, “Are you going to fuck me yourself Rex?”

The silence was so loud.

You looked up at him, standing above you, and his expression was absolutely flat.

“You're serious?” You practically gasped, and he just nodded.

You brought yourself onto your knees and cradled your head in your arms, mumbling under your breath. “Maker, this is so fucked up, I can't believe this is happening. I can’t-”

Rex interrupted your ramblings as he knelt down in front of you, placing his hands on your arms to take them away from your head. You looked up to him desperately, and you could see the pity in his eyes.

“Rex it hurts, it really hurts” You whispered, the pain continuing to burn into you.

“I know” He said soothingly, “I'm going to help you, okay? I'll make it feel better”

You whimpered, your breathing calming just the tiniest bit.

“Is that okay?” He asked, getting a confirmation that this is what you wanted from him.

“Yes” You breathed out, any shame now escaping you, “Please help me”

With that, Rex took you up in his arms, and darted back the short distance to the ship. He set you down on the bunk in the back area and pulled off your trousers and underwear in one swift motion. The sight that greeted him drew a deep groan from within his throat, but he was hesitating.

“Rex please” You begged in a strangled moan, needing to feel him immediately.

“I'm sorry Cyar'ika, I just didn't think it would happen this way” He said honestly.

“Wha-?”

Before you could even ask what he meant, his tongue found its place between your legs. You cried out, the pain in your stomach melting away into pure pleasure. He was eating you out as if it was his last meal, as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. It felt so incredible, and yet, your head still felt foggy, and your pulse was elevated to an unhealthy rate. Even as he worked at your clit, the sensation of him sucking and biting feeling divine, given straight from the maker, you knew it wasn't enough.

“Rex I need-” You began, your words getting caught in your throat.

“Tell me what you need Cyare” He hummed against your pussy, “Anything”

Your hips bucked, “I need more, I need you” You panted.

“I'll need a little bit more than that I'm afraid” He said, and you looked down at him to see the slight teasing smile curling his lips.

“Please don't make me say it” You whined as he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“Come on Cyar'ika, tell me” He cooed, his hands gripping at your thighs tightly.

“I need your cock! I need you inside me Rex! Please” You finally admitted, and felt Rex hum against your core.

“See that wasn't so hard was it” He rumbled.

He placed a kiss to your clit before he moved away, and you shuddered, feeling the pain begin to twist at your core once more. Rex made short work of his armour, his dexterous fingers working the clasps quickly, his brain on autopilot as he looked down at you writhing beneath him. He then slipped off his blacks and his cock finally sprung free. You moaned as you saw it, throwing your head back onto the bunk and trying not to think about how wrong this was.

“See something you like Mesh’la?” You knew Rex was smirking, you could hear it in his voice. It only drove you more insane.

“Shut up and fuck me Captain” You hissed, which pulled a deep groan from Rex.

He chuckled slightly as he replied, “Yes Ma’am”

He lined himself up with your entrance and looked up to you for confirmation, taking your face in his hand to make you look at him. You could see the question in his eyes, and behind all of your blinding arousal, your heart fluttered at the careful actions of the man you were undoubtedly in love with. You nodded.

“Please” You sounded so pathetic, and Rex brushed his thumb across your cheek tentatively.

“I’ve got you Cyare, don’t worry, I’ll make it better”

He breached you entrance and the moan that escaped your lips was the most sinful sound he had ever heard.

“Oh Rex” You whimpered sadly, and he stopped his movements to check that you were okay.

“What is it?” He rocked his hips back and then forward very gently, earning another moan. “What is it Mesh'la?” He whispered.

“I'm sorry” You whispered

“Why are you sorry?” He frowned, and pushed your hair from your face to get a proper look at you.

The pain burned hot inside you, but you needed to say this.

“You shouldn't have to do this, I'm so sorry”

“Cyare, I can stop if you don't want me to do this, I can let you finish yourself”

“No!” You said quickly, too quickly, “I mean-” You were floundering to find the right words but Rex just pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“You don't need to say anything” He said gently and pushed deeper inside you, his cock now fully sheathed within you. You moaned gently at the sensation of the stretch, and it was music to his ears, “I'm going to fuck you now, and we can forget about it later okay?”

“Okay” You breathed out unsteadily.

He started to pick up the pace and it was heavenly. The feel of his cock dragging along your walls was divine, and if this was any other time it would have been perfect, but right now, you needed more.

“Rex, please-”

“Tell me Cyar'ika, what do you need?”

The underlying feelings that you already harboured for Rex were spilling into your words before you could stop them.

“Please, I need it harder, faster. Fuck me like you mean it Rex, please”

“Won't be a problem” He said breathily before he began pounding into you, and you could already feel the familiar coil tightening in the pit of your stomach, replacing any pain that once inhabited it. Rex slid his arm around you, arching your back so he could hit the deepest possible spot within you.

“Fuck” You hissed.

“That feel good?” He panted out, and you nodded hastily. Rex tutted slightly, “Use your words Mesh'la, tell me how it feels” He said, dragging his lips across your neck, leaving small markings behind as his teeth nipped at you.

“Fuck Rex, it feels so good. Please don't stop, I need you” You were whispering, as if it were a secret you didn't want to tell.

Rex groaned loudly, burying his face in your neck, “Say it again”

“Which part?” You said letting a small smirk onto your face at his reaction to your words. You knew exactly which ones he wanted to hear.

He looked up at you in disbelief of your teasing at this moment, then pressed his forehead into yours, slowing down his pace and making you whimper at the loss of intensity, “Tell me you need me”

You had no problem saying something as true as that. “I need you Rex, I want you” You emphasised, your eyes burning into his from a mere hairbreadth away.

He groaned, the distinction between the two phrases not lost on him. He quickly resumed his punishing pace, pulling away from you slightly to watch you. You felt the coil pull taught within you, just waiting to snap. You weren’t certain if the drug had something to do with it or not, but you had never been wound up to an orgasm so quickly by anyone else before.

“Stars, just like that” You moaned, eyes closing and head pushing back into the bunk.

“Fuck, look at you” Rex breathed out, “You’re so beautiful taking my cock like this”

The words hit you in the very centre of your being, and without thinking, you grabbed the back of Rex’s neck and pulled him in to your lips. His hips stuttered for one second, but then he was groaning into the kiss, his hips snapping to yours even harder, his fingers holding you down with bruising strength. You didn’t care at all. The idea of having his hands imprinted into your skin only sent you careering towards your orgasm.

“Rex I'm gonna-” You couldn’t even get the words out.

“That's it Mesh'la, let go, cum for me”

His words tipped you over the edge, the coil snapping suddenly and harshly, filling your system with intense pleasure. Rex wasn't far behind.

“Where-”

“Inside, please. I want to feel you Rex” You scraped your nails down the back of his neck as he rode you though your high.

“Kriff, you're going to be the death of me Cyar'ika” He mumbled, hooking his lips with yours as he snapped his hips to your one final time, spilling all of himself inside.

You both took a second to come down from your highs, breathing heavily against each others lips. The more your breath returned to normal, and the burning inside of your limbs subsided, the more the dread crept in.

Rex slid out of you without saying a word, without looking at you. You whimpered slightly at the loss and covered you mouth out of embarrassment. He left the room and your thoughts instantly spiralled out of control.

He’s never going to speak to me again. He’ll never look at me again. I’ve ruined everything. There’s no way we can just move on from this. I’m never going to be able to forget this. He’ll never look at me the same.

A moment later, Rex returned with a damp towel and knelt on the floor, placing a hand on your knee. “Open” He said gently, a kind smile across his lips as he guided your legs open to clean you up. You couldn’t look at him, opting to lay your head back and stare at the ship’s ceiling.

“Rex, I’m so sorry” You said quietly, tears pricking at the edges of your eyes.

“Don't be, I'm just glad I could help you” He replied, as sweet as he always was, and you felt the tears spill, running silently down the sides of your face.

Everything's ruined.

When he finished cleaning you up, Rex noticed your despondent expression and tear stained face and grabbed your hand tentatively.

“What are you thinking Mesh'la?” He asked, his deep voice exceedingly smooth.

“This isn't what I wanted, it shouldn't have been like this” You stared up blankly, blinking hot tears out of your eyes.

Rex's heart started beating faster, “Did I hurt you?”

“No!” You sat up, looking into his eyes, “It's not that it's-”

He brought a hand to cup your cheek and his thumb gently caressed your cheekbone, wiping some tears from under your eye, “It's what?”

You took a deep breath. Now felt like both the right and the wrong moment but you were past caring, your dignity was already laid outside in the bed of flowers that started this whole mess.

“I- I actually like you Rex, I might even love you, and now…” You looked down to your lap, shaking your head, “Now I've ruined everything. I'm just sorry” You buried your face in your hands, feeling ashamed of your actions, even if they weren’t entirely your own.

“Hey, hey” Rex pried your hands away from your face, “Cyar'ika look at me”

You raised your gaze to look into his eyes, your head still angled down as if it would stop the confrontation.

“You haven't ruined anything okay? Its not your fault, I-” He smiled a little, “I like you too, might even love you” He mimicked the way you had said it and your heart stopped.

“You do?” Your eyebrows pinched as you stared into his amber eyes, seeing only admiration and honesty swimming in their depths.

“Yes” He placed his hand on your cheek, “It's like I said, I didn't think it would happen like this”

“Oh, that's what you meant” You said plainly, and he chuckled at your expression.

“Yeah” He said, gently rubbing your thigh, “I'm sorry, I should've told you before all of this happened” He said, some kind of guilt creeping across his features.

“It’s okay” You took his face in your hands, “Thank you Rex, for helping me”

A smirk grew on his face, “Anytime”

[m0chisenpai]

Louis x reader x Armand

The reader is a witch and she meets Armand and Louis and Claudia when going to watch a vampire play. They are mesmerized by her enchanting presence, wondering what and who she is

superstitious

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

˚｡⋆ platonic!claudia x black!fem!reader

in which the missing piece fills the gaps

author note: We're gonna play with the idea that Louis has somewhat integrated into coven life

Another night of plays. And a new role for Claudia. A nod to the past, Claudia plays the maid to Marie Antoinette who witnesses both affairs and murders of the king and queen.

The role is silent, but it is better than falling out a window every singe night in that godforsaken blue dress. At least she could be a woman for the many nights to come. She'll give Louis that little credit due.

As always, Louis assumes his usual spot, watching his sister perform while his companion sits above. There is peace between all three. And at the same time, a feeling of lonesome resides. Like there is something missing. He assumed Madeline would fill it, a fledgling that he felt such pride and dare say love.

But the loneliness remained. She could feel it in him. But Louis would brush her curious gaze aside.

Until that evening when she enters.

Armand smells her before she even steps foot into the theatre. It is rich, it is new. It almost smells familiar of his previous years abroad. Whoever is here, their blood sings to his dead heart. It begs for him to consume it, to be bathed in it.

Had an ancient one found their way back? He looks down into the seats. Soldiers, husbands and wives, students fill the house. But he sees nothing.

Louis catches Armand's gaze, he sees his gaze, 'what is it?'

'Something is here. An ancient thing or being. I do not know what it is. But there is power in it.'

His gaze shifts to Medline, 'keep watch over yourself and your companion.'

"One ticket please!" The dressed up vampire hands the young woman her ticket which she holds between gloved hands. She felt out of place in her softer colors against the dark theatre, but she always did stick out. Perhaps the vampire assumed her to be a child, she certainly exuded such child like excitement as she skipped into the theatre

"Vampires pretending to be humans pretending to be vampires," you whisper to yourself in awe finding your seat. "How dramatic, Prudence was right. But when is she never?"

The act begins. Murder marks the end of all the scenes and your laughter is like a bell in the vampires ears. Armand searched but can not find you nor can Louis pinpoint your presence. But a magnetizing feeling washes over their bodies.

Then the final act happens. The vampire troupe feast on the woman and silence fills the theatre. But you stand in loud applause shouting your praise in French. And it is as though the world ends when all three look upon you. Even though the applause thunders over your praise, they hear it so loudly.

How your eyes shimmer in praise, how your pearly white smile lights the room. Claudia freezes with the blood dripping along her lips. Trying to remember your face as the curtains pull shut. Armand watches as you look up, nodding your head giving your applause to him now.

But Louis, oh he wants you then and there. But the crowd keeps him from meeting you in the aisles as you quickly move out.

You may appreciate the arts, but you know not to engage those much farther up the food chain.

"Oh sisters it was wondrous as you said!" you whisper in awe as you tie your scarf looking in to the mirror of your flat.

"Did I not tell you it was a delight, though in their early days they were more Shakespearean. I suppose they choose to cater to their English crowd now."

"And times are changing sister dear. some of us have not graced this land as long as you have," you smirk as she gasps at your retort.

"And did you see the leader? Is he not handsome!" Your fellow sister Urydice exclaims moving Prudence aside to stand in front of the mirror. Her milky white gaze grounds you as she press forward closer.

"He was..beautiful." you shyly whisper and the girl squeals.

"Oh you must approach them! you must! if not for you then for romance my sister!" She was always the most romantic of you all. Each of your sisters had their areas of the arts they adored. And your dear sister favored love above all.

"Enough girls return to your chambers."

"Yes Mother." You whisper your goodbyes to all the girls until she sits in front. Your leader, the mother of your group. She is old and wise from the many lifetimes she has survived, but no age touches her complexion. Her hair large and thick is braided back and you realize how much you miss your mother.

"My darling," she whispers with a smile on her lips "I see you are adjusting well to the city of love." You quickly nod, folding your hands tight in your lap. "Be safe. These vampires hold great power. And they have numbers. Until we have arrived you are to not engage them, please my dear."

"Yes mother," you bow your head and press a kiss to your pointer and middle finger pressing it to the glass. And as soon as she does the same all that is left is your reflection.

You should listen to her, but you don't. You ponder and mull over the many protection casts that could offer you a chance to possibly approach. But in the end you toss any ideas aside and blow all the candles out and raise a hand to dim the lamps as well.

And as you shed your robe to slip into your bed. The golden eyes that watch from your balcony disappear into the night.

That next night you sit at the cafe writing letters to your scattered sisters. Some in English, three in French and the one in Italian you work on slowly, whispering your thoughts to yourself.

"You're not from here ma'am? Haven't heard Italian before," the young girl sitting in front of you startles you, but you keep your face neutral. The younger ones are far more dangerous. Quick tempered, more fierce.

You smile at her and shake your head. "No, I am not. But Italy is not my home unfortunately." You sip from your glass of coffee. "I must say you are an exceptional actress. The breath was taken right out of me, especially at the end."

"Thank you, years of practice led me here."

"From...America?" you guess, no you know.

Her eyes widen as does her smile, "how'd you know?"

"Southern accent. Heard it growing up when I was a bit younger than you, course till we moved and such."

"Claudia, what'd I tell you bout disturbing folks?"

You hate to admit how the man who joins you both at the table makes your eyes widen. The way he places his hand on the back of her chair, appearing from the entrance inside the cafe to sit beside her. Your cheeks feel hot as his gaze settles upon you. You seem to have some affect as well because he is no longer chiding at the girl.

"No, she is fine sir. Just some simple conversation is all" you tilt your head, "your daughter I am assuming?"

"Ah well...yes" he fumbles his words. "Lost her mother and wound up here for some time."

"How sweet," you smile at the two now bundling your letters to drop at the post hoping the tremble of your hand is unnoticeable. "I should be taking my leave now. It was lovely to speak to you both."

"Claudia," she quickly shakes your hand when you step to her.

"Louis."

They wish you could stay. But you toss the necessary amount by your cup and leave the two behind to watch you walk down the stony path. You move slowly, hoping the urgency in your leaving goes unnoticed. Where two are gathered surely a secret third will try and interceded. To make you a meal.

One night turns into two, then three when you return again it has been a challenging week. A week of you trying to avoid that theatre, but they call out to you in the night. "Come, come to us." It's as though they sit by your windows whispering, begging for you. But the leader requests your presence tonight.

One of the women leads you to where he sits. The only empty seat beside him is where you situate yourself.

"When did he turn you?"

"Don't have a creator." You whisper, eyes remaining on the stage. They flicker to Louis who looks up, giving you a smile which you quickly return along with a small wave.

"You know we are not human, yet you yourself are not one of us," now his head turns to look at you. "But you do not smell mortal. And your presence...it is unusual."

"I smell?"

"Nothing like the boys of war I can assure you, it is not unwelcoming" Armand can not help the smallest of smiles when he hears your sigh of relief. "But I must ask you again. What are you if not human?"

You hesitate, remembering the words of your mother. "We are not human. In the past humans maddened by thoughts of God and Satan killed us one by one. They stopped it from being publicized but they still hunt us to this day running us into the shadows of the night and to all corners of this world."

"You are a witch?"

"We refrain from calling ourselves that," your hand rests against a necklace. The very one all of you share engraved with an ancient sigil, the metal untouched by the years you have owned it. "We are scattered across the world to avoid any more unnecessary murders."

You pause to clap for Claudia, smiling as she grins up at you at the end of her act.

"Will you be in France for long?" Armand asks once you sit back down.

"I would like to be. Rome was for a moment. And I am not sure I wish to return again to Greece, though I miss the waters." Armand returns his gaze down to Claudia and Louis both steal glances at him.

"If you stay here, I can gurantee your safety."

Claudia adores you and spends any moment she can to hear about your travels. Taking you to Madeline's shop where the young fledgling happily dresses and styles you and around the city while Louis walks around the city with you. Taking shots of you facing the moonlight or along the river. They are some of his best work.

Armand shows you artwork from the world. And some of his older works of plays dating back to the theatre's founding days.

Each of them can not help but feel you fill the gap in their hearts.

They feel dizzy just being in the midst of your presence.

Then one night, as you sit atop Armand's lap. Louis' hand settles at the back of your neck, squeezing it gently to pull your head to look up at him. Your bare chest heaves as Armand lays kisses upon it. There is something electric in the air, something magical in your eyes.

The candles burn brighter with each kiss. Flickering with your breathing, as though they are breathing with you.

"Stay with us," his voice a whisper. Your eyes remain on his. He whispers it again, "join us."

Your mothers words are drowned from the two. Their warnings are nothing but a fly in your ear which you swat away.

"Yes, please." Armand lets a soft hiss as he bites into the juncture of your neck while Louis bites into the other side. And it is like liquid fire fills your vein and fills theirs.

The candles flicker out at that very moment.

It is as though you are bonded to them in that moment.

Theirs for an eternity.

[beegomess]

T.N. || Summer wine

Summary: You and Theodore spent the summer vacation with his family on the Italian coast, something you definitely loved. However, your boyfriend could be somewhat insistent when it came to having you and your beautiful body near him for so long. Warnings: obscenities, +18, smut, relationship established.

A/N: Inspired by @motherearthlovesus imagine/moodboards about spending the holidays at Theo's summer house in Italy. I loved it so much and I had to write about...💕💕

Orders are open!

The sun threw its golden rays with a magical intensity over the Italian coast, making the turquoise sea shine like an immense sparkling emerald that extended to infinity. The heat vibrated in the air, creating a slight tremor on the surface of the water, and the gentle breeze that blew from the ocean brought the salty and fresh aroma of the waves. Every time the breeze passed, it caressed the skin like a touch of velvet, offering a gentle relief to the scorching heat of the day.

You were relaxed on the lounger by the pool, with the crystal clear water reflecting the clear sky and accentuating the feeling of tranquility that surrounded the environment. The heat of the sun seemed almost palpable, heating your skin and making the pool an irresistible oasis of freshness. Your eyes, semi-closed and shining under the sun's rays, slowly slid through the pages of the book you held, each word unfolding in a hypnotic rhythm.

The scenery around him was a visual and sensory delight: the waves beat lazily on the rocks in the distance, emitting a soft and rhythmic sound that mixed with the distant murmur of seabirds. The warmth and peace of the environment created a perfect refuge.

While you were completely immersed in reading, Theodore was at the edge of the pool, his forearms resting relaxed on the edge, with crystal clear water running down his arms and creating small waves. His shoulders, slightly tilted forward, revealed a relaxed posture as he watched his every move with a mixture of affection and worship. The heat of the sun highlighted the tanned texture of her skin, and her slightly misaligned hair completed the look.

When you raised your eyes and found his gaze, the affectionate and fun glow made you smile. Theodore, with a charming smile, approached and, in a sincere tone, said in Italian:

- Sei così bella oggi.

You smiled, touched by the compliment.

- I'm thirsty. - you mentioned, and he laughed, with a look that promised something more.

- How about we go to the kitchen? I promise to prepare something refreshing for you.

You followed him to the kitchen, which was integrated into the external environment of the house by large glass doors that opened to the garden. As soon as you entered the environment, Theodore turned around and pulled you for a deeper and more passionate kiss. The kiss was intense, a moment full of desire and connection, and you felt the heat intensify as it deepened.

Soon, his hands were around his neck, at the same time that he put you sitting on the white bench there in the middle in the middle of laughter and heavy breaths as the kisses went down his neck.

However, the kitchen door opened abruptly and Charlotte, Theodore's sister, came in, a little surprised to see you.

- Ah, sorry for interrupting. - Charlotte exclaimed, trying to hide a fun smile. - I just came to get something to drink.

- Hadn't you gone out with your friends? - Theodore asked with a note of irritation in his voice, as you came down from where you were with a flushed face and a racing heart.

- Yes, three hours ago... - The girl responds as if it were obvious and fun to see the embarrassment in you.

- So, how was your afternoon? - You decide to change the subject, while Theodore will finally make the drink he promised you earlier.

- It was great, but it looks like you were busy around here. I hope I didn't get in the way too much. - Charlotte, with a welcoming smile, took a bottle of juice.

- No, not really... - You clear your throat by noticing a clear malicious smile on Charlotte's face while she drinks the juice. - What did you do?

With the mood relaxing again, Charlotte joined you, bringing a touch of lightness and humor to the moment.

That night, Theodore made a special dinner for you. He cooked very carefully, and the aroma of the dishes mixed with the breeze of the night. Dinner was on the balcony, on a small table with a white towel and candles, which gave a soft light.

While they were eating, the conversation flowed naturally and the laughter filled the air, creating an atmosphere of relaxation and pleasure. As dinner progressed, you watched the reflection of the stars in the sea water, which sparkled under the brightness of the moon, creating a magical and quiet scenery. The murmur of the waves and the freshness of the night contributed to the feeling of peace and contentment that involved everyone there.

The next morning, you woke up slowly, surrounded by a cozy heat. The sun rose lazily on the horizon, dyeing the sky with soft shades of orange and pink. The first rays of light invaded the room, filtering through the white and almost transparent curtains, which swayed gently with the light breeze of dawn.

Lying on the bed, you felt Theodore's comfortable warmth next to you. His body, still sleepy, settled in the vicinity of him, while the heat of the sun entering through the windows warmed the environment, creating a pleasant contrast with the cool breeze of the morning. The soft sounds of the world awakening outside, combined with the delicate movements of the curtains, formed a symphony of serenity.

The golden glow that flooded the room seemed to amplify the feeling of peace, and the soft touch of sunlight on the skin mixed with the heat that emanated from Theodore, creating an atmosphere of tranquility and contentment.

You turned slightly on the bed, allowing your eyes to rest on Theodore. He was still sleeping, the serene expression, the features of the face softened by peaceful sleep. Your lips were ajar, and you could see the slight movement of your chest going up and down with each calm breath. The soft light of dawn caressed his face, highlighting his features in an almost angelic way.

While you were watching him, Theodore began to wake up slowly. His eyelashes trembled slightly before opening his eyes, revealing that deep look that always made his heart beat a little faster. Without saying a word, he sketched a soft smile, still half asleep, and extended his arm, pulling you gently against him.

His body found his naturally, fitting perfectly into the curve of his arms. Theodore squeezed the hug, engaging and protective, while his fingers slowly traced the lines of his back, as if he wanted to prolong that moment of closeness. The warmth of his body was comforting, and you felt even more welcomed as he whispered, with a hoarse voice of sleep.

- Good morning... - He tilted his head to leave a soft kiss on top of yours, his face still relaxed by the slow awakening.

His body, which until that moment, was covered by nothing more than a white shirt of Theodore, was caressed from under the fabric. The affection started slowly, but soon you started to feel your fingers going down more on your back, then waist and hips.

He pressed you a little more against him while placing light kisses on his face and neck. His hands traveled to Theodore's warm skin, feeling him tense under his touch, until you decide to start a slow but warm kiss.

His tightness on your skin increases as your kiss deepens. And in a quick movement, you see him between your legs, leaning over you and savoring every piece of exposed skin.

One of Theodore's hands climbed over his belly, groping his body until he found his breasts, you sighed as you felt a slight squeeze in one of them. The shirt you wore was folded and accumulated over his hand.

A smile formed on Theo's face immediately when he heard you sigh and whimper with such simple touches. In addition, the fact that he has his body pressing against his hot and humid core made him delirious quickly.

Theodore moved his face away just to observe his expression when he lowered his hand again, heading towards the middle of his legs. His bright and sleepy eyes looked at him with expectation.

- Do you want that, love? - His low voice invaded your thoughts quickly, making you nod positively. - So, say, let's go...

- Theo, please... - You whisper, causing chills all over his body, completely euphoric about the idea of fucking you in every possible way. - Please, I need...

A smile appeared again on Theodore's face when he heard you and lowered his fingers to his folds, realizing how wet you were already, completely under him now. A low moan escaped you when you felt it rub your nerve point, it started slowly to provoke you, I wanted to see how far you could stand it.

Therefore, he introduced one of his long fingers into you without stopping what he was doing. You moaned a little louder in surprise.

- Lower, dear, we don't want to be interrupted again, do we? - Theodore said if a somewhat possessive way, it was as if he waited too long for that. - I can't stand being interrupted anymore whenever I want to fuck you.

The movements in you only increased, the wet noise echoed in every room, your warm face threw itself back whenever you felt the knot form at the foot of your belly.

- Damn, you're sucking my fingers... - And in a matter of minutes you were a complete mess, your liquids spilled on the white sheets while Theodore shamelessly stared at the reaction of his body. - Yes, bella, come on, keep it up...

Your breath failed when you felt yourself spilled on the fingers of your boyfriend, who looked hypnotized at your orgasm happening, trying to prolong it even more.

While his discharge was happening, Theodore got rid of the only piece of clothing that prevented him from finally having you. Suddenly, you feel him stretch you little by little, loving the feeling of having him inside you.

- Damn... - Theodore murmurs as soon as he gets to the bottom. It positions your face on your neck as it starts with slow movements so that you get used to the increased stimulation, absorbing every moan of yours close to your ear.

- That's so good, Theo... - you say and your voice comes out a little more tearful than you would like. - Faster, please...

Your words just make it clear to him that you would no longer mind being careful with the noises or discomforts, so Theodore leaned on his arms again, seeing how you smiled maliciously at every beat of your hips, at the same time that your eyes rolled.

Theodore holds the head of the bed as a support, pushing the body against his own at a frantic pace. He just discounted all the desire he had accumulated since the day before, when he saw you in that pair of bikinis perfectly fitted to his body.

His voice mixed with the noise of the bed hitting the wall, while his other hand held one of his legs, with the intention of making his body stable.

It was amazing how much he seemed to know his body, hitting the exact places at an exact rhythm that made you even closer to another orgasm.

- You accept me so well, dear... You don't know how much I would do that all the time if I could. - The nicknames he used with you only gave more stimulus. Theodore felt you get close once again, hypnotizing with your face writhing with pleasure once again. - Make a mess, bella...

- Theo... - His voice was whispered, completely destroyed.

Your body writhed once again, squeezing Theodore and taking him along with you, your mind completely lost in him again, feeling every drop of the two of you drip between your legs.

He moved away from your body after a few seconds, coming out of you, also panting and convinced of having taken it twice. Your tired body sought refuge in it, you nestled just to catch your breath.

Theodore placed a kiss on the top of his head while you supported her on his chest, you could hear his heart beating fast, his tanned body had small droplets of sweat, just like yours.

He took you to the shower after that, you spent more than an hour in the bathtub, just talking and laughing.

While you were finishing breakfast at the same table on the balcony of the interior dinner, Charlotte appeared at the door, with her pajamas crupted, shaggy hair and her face swollen with sleep.

- Why did they wake me up so early? - The girl grumbles, dragging her slippers to one of the chairs, bothered by the sunlight. - It's still new hours.

- Don't overdo it, Charlotte. We didn't even make noise with the coffee. - Theodore answers, while drinking a sip of his cup.

- I was talking about the knocks on the wall, actually. - The girl replied, without realibing what it could be. Your face flushed and your eyes widened, while you choked on the food. - What were they doing, anyway?

- Just hanging a painting in the room, to decorate... - Theo responds with a malicious smile directed at you, taking advantage of his sister's slowness.

- You two are crazy. - She grumbles while serving herself a glass of juice.

____________________________

masterlist

xoxo, bebe💌🫶🏼

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 12

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, poorly written smut, mention of scars, allusions to child abuse

A/N: I feel like I say this about every chapter but I really struggled with this one. I even scrapped 3,800 words because I hated it so much. It still ended up being a long one but it feels like a lot of time skipping and nonsense. The beginning is nice though. ;) I hope it’s at least somewhat enjoyable. Thank you, my dears.💙

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Your body was on fire; electric jolts sparking with pleasure each place where his skin was touching yours. It was never like this before. It was purely physical, without attachment. Now it felt like he had integrated himself into your very soul. You wanted him deeper than his cock dragging over your inner walls; you wanted him beneath your very skin. 

Each thrust was slow but deep, his back arching when he rolled his hips into you. His lips and hands felt like they were everywhere all at once. He wasn’t just fucking you. He was making love to you. Deliberate, delicate, yet no less exhilarating. 

Your hips raised of their own volition to meet his. You were desperate to snap that inner tension; the tightly coiled heat low in your belly. Daryl had other plans. He was drawing this out. He was savoring you. 

“Easy. I gotcha.” He purred against your ear just before his lips attached to the skin above where your pulse thrummed. “S’gonna feel real good. Hang on for me.” He ventured lower to draw a nipple into his mouth, the swirling of his tongue pulling a moan from you, your hands moving from his bare back to his hair and then returning. You urged him back to your mouth, whining against his smiling lips. 

“Please.” You weren’t sure what you were pleading for; there was so much sensation that you couldn’t even pinpoint where you needed him most. “Please, please, please.” He chuckled and made a slow journey with his fingertips, whispering down your torso to disappear between your bodies. A calloused thumb pressed against your clit and you nearly wailed. 

“That’s it. Let go for me.” His thrusts never wavered, leaving you to dimly wonder if this would be the first of many orgasms he would give you before he was chasing his own high. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

You could feel your cunt clamp around him and begin to pull him impossibly deeper, preparing for your orgasm to wash over you. You were right on the edge, teetering. His lips met yours and your hips angled upward, the knot ready to burst. Just as you felt the first wave of ecstasy—

You opened your eyes to the dim light of a small lamp on the bedside table. You still felt tired when somewhere in your mind, you could recall that something happened and you should feel better. In your sleepy haze, you couldn’t seem to summon the memories. Only the residual feel of Daryl’s body pressed against yours and the pleasure he was so eagerly offering you. 

“That must’ve been some dream.”

You lifted your head to find Carol sitting in a chair close to the bedside, a small smile on her face and her hands folded on her lap. 

“Carol.” Your lips curved upward ever so slightly. 

“So dehydrated but still able to drool so I’d say we’re making progress.” She chuckled while you dragged the back of your hand across your mouth with a curl of your lip. 

“The baby okay?” You scratched at your scalp, still trying to piece together what happened that ended with you in bed and hooked up to fluids. 

“Mhm. Hershel says the heartbeat is strong.” She smiled, the sadness behind her eyes more transparent than she probably realized. 

“What happened?” You inquired, slowly pushing yourself up to sit against the headboard without disturbing the IV tubing. Just as her mouth opened, the memories of your rescue mission came flooding back in a breathtaking onslaught. “Oh god, Daryl!” You grabbed the blanket and threw it back, aiming to get to your feet, only halting by a gentle touch to your ankle. 

“He’s in the next room. He’s gonna be fine.”

When the sudden rush evaporated, you sank back against the pillows. You had all three made it. 

“He was in shock by the time you made it back. Hershel gave him some IV fluids and is going to start some antibiotics. He’s all patched up. He’ll be back to his cheery self in no time.”

You chuckled. “Just a ball of sunshine, that one.” Your smile fell away, remembering just how horrible he had looked the last time you saw him; dragging his feet along behind you. Blood dampened his shirt, his pants. He was pale as milk, dark circles under his eyes. You held on to a fragile hope that he—if nothing else—looked better after stitches and fluids. “Is he awake?”

“He was stirring a little while ago.” You nodded, picking at your left thumbnail. “I’m gonna get you some water. Maybe we can take out that IV now that you’re awake.” The other woman stood gracefully, donning her usual smile except it wasn’t quite reaching her eyes. Your gaze followed her out the door, your heart aching for her. She was so intent on caring for you and your baby while her own child was still missing. It was a bleak reminder of how unfair life truly was. 

You inwardly sighed, your stomach beginning to feel ill at ease. How did you end up in this position? All of it. The dead rising to eat the living. Losing everyone you held dear. Making a baby with a complete stranger. And now so desperate to keep that man in your life that it frightened you. Just—how?

Everything had been so normal before. You had your routine with your father waiting at home for you everyday. You’d sit with him over a dinner that you prepared, listening to his lame jokes and laughing even harder when they weren’t funny. Your uncles and aunt would come over once every two weeks for a big supper. You’d usually save the larger kill for those occasions. 

God, you missed them. 

But they weren’t here now.

Daryl was. You’d be damned if you’d lose someone else. 

A soft knock on the door signaled Carol’s return. She had a tray of food. Eggs, apparently. The last time, when Daryl had brought them, you had been famished and paid no mind to the smell. It was different this time, and your stomach was not pleased. 

“The eggs.” You gagged, sitting up and covering your mouth and nose. Carol’s eyes widened and she swiftly put the tray outside the door and grabbed up the water glass before she shut the smell out. 

“I’m sorry.” She said quietly. “I brought the pills that Maggie and Glenn were able to get. They found a few bottles so you should be set for now.” She handed you the medication and the water. Your stomach churned angrily. “I’ll see about getting Beth to make you another smoothie.”

“Thank you.” It was made clear by the expression on her face that she was worried. “I’ll be okay.” The pill had a grainy texture and left a horrible taste. You washed it down with a sip of water, but the unpleasant assault on your tastebuds continued. It would be worth it if it meant everything would stop trying to crawl out of your throat. 

“I’ll get Hershel to see about that IV. Then maybe you’d like to go see Daryl?”

You gave her a nod and a tight-lipped smile, watching her leave to fetch the vet. Ugh. You knew he would lecture you, but you couldn’t let it sway your desire to protect your little family. That’s exactly what it was: a family. Your relationship with Daryl didn’t alter the fact that you would share a child. Co-parent. Protect one another.

A rapid knock on the door before it opened revealed the vet. “Carol tells me you’re feeling okay. Maybe we can remove your IV if you can ensure you’ll continue to take in as much water as you can.” 

“I can do that.”

He studied you for a moment, as if searching for a hint that you may not follow through. Apparently satisfied that you’d heed his instructions, he rounded the bed and began working on removing the catheter from your arm. The grim expression was sign enough that you were about to be scolded. “Y/N, you understand the risks involved when you go out there.” And so it began. “This, I can’t stop you from doing but you should consider the safety of your child if nothing else.”

“No one else was going to try and find him. It was something I had to do.” You lowered your head, feeling not unlike a child who was in trouble for drawing on the walls and knowing better. 

There was nothing left to say. He continued to stare for a moment after instructing you to bend your arm and hold pressure on the square of gauze he’d placed there. Perhaps, he was attempting to understand. Maybe he was judging your decision. Maybe he was even praying for you. It didn’t matter. In the end, he gave a curt nod and turned to leave the room. 

As soon as the door closed, you tossed the gauze onto the bedside table, carefully lowering your feet to the floor. The mattress acted as support while you ensured dizziness wouldn’t bombard you. Your vision stayed clear, even if your stomach was still protesting. Hopefully it would settle soon enough. 

You knew Daryl would likely be across the hall. There was an anxiety at the thought of seeing him; one you couldn’t validate. You knew you wanted to go, to see with your own eyes that he was alive and healing. You chose to ignore the feeling and opened the door, pausing on the threshold when you heard his voice. 

“I didn’t do anythin’ Rick or Shane wouldn’t done.”

“I know.” You could see Carol step into the doorway of the adjacent room. You stepped back behind the frame of your own, feeling like an intruder. “You’re every bit as good as them. Every bit.” The door closed, her soft steps moving further away, most likely in route to get your smoothie. 

You could absolutely throttle the redneck after hearing him downplay what he had been nearly killing himself to achieve. He had worked just as hard as anyone else in the search for Sophia. If he wouldn’t acknowledge the effort he’d put in, he was likely giving himself hell over being placed on the sidelines after his injury. There was no way Hershel was going to clear him to go back out there anytime soon. 

Your bare feet barely made a sound when you crossed the space between rooms, leaning into the door with one hand on the knob while the other quietly knocked. 

“Jesus, can’t a guy get some sleep ‘round here. What is it now?”

Scrunching your nose in response to his grumpy attitude, you opened the door and peered inside. He most likely wasn’t expecting you. His back was to you, the sheet up to the curve of his hips, giving you a glimpse of the deep, dark puckered lines of several scars. His skin was still pale. They likely didn’t appear so harsh against his normally tan complexion. Still…

“Hey, dumbass. How’re you feeling?” The way he flinched and clumsily gripped the thin cover to drag it up higher made your chest tighten. The reason he didn’t want to remove his shirt when you fucked; he didn’t want you see. 

“Callin’ me a dumbass when you was the one came runnin’ after me all half cocked.” He mumbled, not turning to look at you. Deflecting. You decided to let it go. He was so ashamed of that part of himself. He needed to keep that secret. It wasn’t yours to know. Maybe one day. 

“I could make so many jokes out of what you just said and most would be at your expense.”

“Y’can go now, funny girl.”

You crawled up onto the mattress and maneuvered your way over to where he lay, resting your chin on the curve of his shoulder while carefully avoiding adding any pressure against his wounded side. 

“Don’t be such a sourpuss. You know you’re glad to see me.”

Daryl scoffed, shrugging his shoulder to jostle your head. “Pain in my ass.” You peered at his outstretched right arm, the taped tubing leading up to a bag of clear fluids, half empty. At least his skin was feeling warmer. “Y’okay?”

“I’m sure they already told you that I’m fine.” You answered softly. You resisted the urge to brush your fingers over the bandage on his head. 

“Don’t matter. Better to hear it outta ya own mouth.”

You smiled. “I’m fine, Daryl. A little nauseous but Maggie and Glenn found the medicine.”

He grunted, a moment passing before he asked “baby okay?” His voice had lowered, muscles tensing beneath your chin, as if he were bracing himself for your answer. 

“Mhm. Hershel checked and said the heartbeat was strong.” He relaxed almost immediately. You were once again reminded of his desire to not be touched. You had seen him flinch away from Rick and Carol. After a rare glimpse at his bare back, the fear made sense. But he saw you differently. He had chosen to accept you as safe for whatever reason. It had to be more than your willingness to spread your legs for him once upon a time not that long ago. 

“That’s good.” He muttered. He sounded a little groggy. 

“He give you something for the pain?” You tilted your head on his arm, your cheek lightly pressing against the muscle there. 

“Mhm. Didn’t want it. Shoulda saved it.” 

“Take the meds, you stubborn ass.” You nearly shoved at him, albeit playfully. It still would have caused him discomfort. His movements were stiff, the muscles rippling under your face as his hand came up to present a clear message in the form of one finger. “You’re so mature, Dixon.” You teased. “I’m so honored to be the birth giver of your spawn.” There was instant regret when you felt him flinch, tense up, and then deflate. 

“M’sorry.” His voice was raspy. Tired. You didn’t hesitate to caress the white bandage over his temple this time. 

“Don’t be.” You soothed, watching him battle to stay awake. “I’m not.” You glanced at the sheet covering his back, shielding his shame from you. You could see the very top of what appeared to be the aftermath of a burn. Daryl had definitely had the opposite of your childhood. Where you had love and tenderness and support, it was suggested Daryl had pain and cruelty and isolation. Somehow, you knew that he would want better for his own child. 

“I ain’t gonna be—like our daddy. My kid—ain’t gonna be like us.”

You brought your hand up to trace shapes onto his forearm, smiling as goosebumps rose from the gentle caress. “Daryl?”

You thought he might already be asleep, but then he drew in a breath and answered with a drawn out “hmm?” 

“I really am honored.” 

He went so still that he appeared to hold his breath, before he made a dismissive noise and shrugged you off of him. “Tryin’a sleep, woman.”

“Okay.” You had hit a nerve. It wasn’t like you didn’t consider the possibility he’d react negatively. “I’ll be across the hall.” You gracelessly scooted across the mattress, just having thrown your legs over the edge when there was a grip on your wrist, firm but gentle. You looked over your shoulder to find him awkwardly balanced on his right elbow while keeping the arm as straight as possible for the IV. He wasn’t looking at you but it had to hurt for him to have twisted into how he was to reach for you. 

The breath he took shuddered. “Stay.” 

“Alright.” Your free hand came to rest on the one that held your wrist, intending to provide comfort for a request he was obviously uncomfortable to make, but he pulled back his arm and settled against the pillow. Withholding your sigh, you settled behind him on your side, facing him but not touching. 

It wasn’t difficult for sleep to find you in the dimly lit room with Daryl’s deep, even breathing acting as your gentle lullaby. 

It was frightening how so many things could change so quickly. Hell, an entire world could end in a matter of days. 

You were up and about the day after you awoke with the IV in your arm. Hershel had instructed you to take it easy and, for once in your life, you had listened. You helped with cooking and hanging laundry. Anything that allowed you to sit often for water breaks and did not require you to lift. 

Daryl was also out of the house that following day. Not because Hershel had allowed it. But because he felt anxious, cooped up. He was stealthy, as per usual, and back in his tent with a book before anyone had noticed he was missing. To his credit, he did move slower and didn’t engage in anything strenuous. Well, for a few days anyway. 

Lori’s pregnancy had been a shocker to everyone. It was laughable to you how suddenly, you weren’t such a burden in the eyes of the second officer. It was also very revealing. You had suspected something all along, but watching him with Rick’s wife when he thought all heads were turned had just confirmed your suspicions. 

That same man was growing more and more volatile with each passing day. He was constantly challenging Rick, the sort of leader of your little group, and then going off on his own to do god knows what. Daryl had butted heads with him a few times over a variety of things. The most recent was just before Lori’s pregnancy was revealed. Shane made an off-handed comment—after you had once again stood your ground against him—about breeding with a redneck having an affect on your mentality. The archer had only conceded when you had stepped in front of him. 

Tensions only rose when Glenn had revealed that Hershel had been keeping walkers in the barn. The issue was debated and discussed repeatedly with no clear resolution. Shane had come stomping over to the porch where everyone was congregated, handing out guns and riling everyone up. He was determined to clear the barn. You stood with Lori, even as Daryl went in with Shane, guns blazing. The action was one that would change everything for everyone forever. 

When the lanky little girl stumbled out of the darkness beyond the barn doors, no one moved. No one made a sound. Except Carol. She had tried to run to Sophia, would have gladly allowed her daughter to rip into her throat at that moment if it meant she would get to hold her. Your fingers only brushed the woman’s arm as you attempted to stop her with a watery call of her name. Luckily, Daryl was successful. He held her until the last moment and even after the walker had fallen by Rick’s gun. 

The drama didn’t end there. 

A young man had been kept in the barn after Rick, Glenn, and Hershel had brought him back with an injury that required surgery. Randall ended up knowing of the Greene farm and thus, became a threat. Rather, the group that had left him was a threat, but—guilty by association and all that. Daryl had participated in the torture of the kid for information. That led to the collapse of already unsteady ground between the two of you. Dale had died still believing that the group was above taking a life. Randall was still in that barn, awaiting the decision on his fate. 

Daryl took the discovery of Sophia in the barn harder than anyone, the exception being Carol. He moved his tent away from the camp, hunted alone, and stayed away from everyone. 

Including you. 

The one time you had tried to talk with him, not even about the distance between you, he had reacted with anger. When you stomped away, you swore you wouldn’t go back. And you hadn’t. That had been more than two weeks ago. 

Inside the house, you were noticing even more changes but these were within your own body. It was as if, over night, your breasts had decided that your bra was just no longer suitable housing. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you studied them. They didn’t look bigger. Squeezing them in your palms, you hissed at the tender ache the gentle action left behind. You’d just have to wear a flannel over your cami so your nipples didn’t alert everyone that the evening was getting chilly. 

Your special condition had been particularly nasty the past two days, requiring fluids once again, leaving you weak and exhausted. You grabbed your jeans from the armchair and stepped into them. There was the slightest bit of resistance getting them over your hips, earning a crease in your brow. It wasn’t until the button and zipper wouldn’t meet that you realized something really had changed. 

Pushing the denim back to your knees, you turned sideways in front of the mirror. Sure enough, there was the slightest curve to your lower belly. How hadn’t you noticed? With a defeated slump to your shoulders, you let your head roll over to where your sleep pants laid at the foot of the bed. Those and your oversized t-shirt had been enough to keep you ignorant to the changes your body was making to accommodate your baby. 

“Ugh, I’m not ready, Thumper.” You whined with a cool palm over the small bump. Grumbling to yourself as you kicked off the jeans and grabbed the plaid cotton pants, you slipped them on and just pulled the t-shirt back on over your camisole. Your flannel would be enough against the autumn chill and with your boots adding to your already questionable attire, you trudged out the door and down the stairs. 

Your first stop was the kitchen. Lori was there with Carl, handing him a plate that contained a sandwich and probably stale potato chips. She smiled at you as you entered, eyeing your outfit with a barely concealed smile. 

“Hey there. Making a fashion statement?”

Drinking down a glass of water to swallow your pill, you turned sideways and hauled up your shirt and cami before lowering your pants slightly. The other woman gave you a nod. 

“Ah, I see.” Lori began putting away food that was not used for lunch. “How far along are you?”

The question caught you off guard. You honestly hadn’t thought about it in a while. You had been more concerned with Glenn being able to find enough vitamins, with keeping down enough food and water, with Daryl being a jerk, and just with surviving. The farm had brought about several weeks of safety and you wished for your little calendar that you had kept in the beginning. 

“It’s okay if you don’t—”

“No, I got this.” You assured, beginning to count on your fingers. It was more difficult than you thought. The days seemed to blend, some more eventful than others, leaving you unable to recall the quiet days in between. “Maybe 17 weeks?”

Lori nodded. “Sounds about right. Everyone’s different but I’m finding myself more sick with this one than I ever was with Carl. When you have your second, it could be smooth sailing and you could have already popped,” she raised her hands in air quotes, “by the time you’re this far along.”

You tilted your head. “Popped?”

Lori chuckled and continued with her task. “Means that one day you just wake up to a very noticeable belly.”

You looked down at your stomach, still on display with your shirt tucked under your arms to keep it raised. You wouldn’t say that you have popped as Lori put it. It was hardly noticeable until you tried to fasten your jeans. However, it was there. You adjusted your clothes and pursed your lips with a hum. 

“Not sure there’ll ever be a second. I think one might be enough for the end of the world.”

You could see her expression shift, the smile and ease morphing into a questioning discomfort. Maybe it was time to table this conversation. 

“I think I’ll head outside for a while. Get some fresh air. Maybe see if someone will take me to get some different clothes. I definitely don’t want to run around in my pajamas when the weather turns.” The other woman nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”

“I will, thanks.”

You dipped your head and ambled out the screen door. The sun’s glare, high in the sky, was a shock to your eyes after being tucked away inside. Your hand acted as a visor against your brow as you scanned the farm. Everyone was scurrying around in their day to day activities, a sort of normalcy settling since everyone had moved into the house.

Except Daryl, of course. 

You heaved a sigh at the thought of him out toward the edge of the farm alone. He could handle himself but the self isolation he was inflicting caused a heaviness in your heart that was beginning to fester. Carol had tried to bring him back and he had become irate. The things he had said to her were shared with you when the woman had finally let her tears fall against your shoulder. You wanted to throat punch him. 

Maybe you would. 

You saw Andrea perched on top of the RV with her rifle. You could almost picture Dale hovering behind her, as he often did. The vehicles had been moved closer to the house, providing much needed reassurance of a quick escape if it were deemed necessary. Chewing on your lip, you let your shoulders drop. It was time to bury that hatchet. 

The climb up the ladder wasn’t as difficult as you thought it’d be. You weren’t thrilled about the height with your sporadic bouts of dizziness but as long as you stayed near the middle, it’d be okay. 

Andrea glowered for a moment before turning back to keep watch over the fields. 

“Hey.” You greeted. She didn’t respond, her eyes looking you up and down before she turned around again. “I deserve that.”

“You deserve more than that. You pointed a gun at my head.” 

You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath. “You could have killed Daryl, Andrea.” You kept your tone level, holding up a hand when she spun around with no doubt a snarky retort on her tongue. “I didn’t come to argue with you. I came to apologize.”

“Yeah? Apology not accepted.”

Another deep breath. “That decision is yours to make. Nevertheless, I’m sorry. I was sick. I was exhausted. I wasn’t thinking clearly and you had just shot the man I lo—the father of my baby.” You blinked, stunned by what you’d almost said in the moment. The look that suddenly appeared on Andrea’s face conveyed she’d caught it too. You shook your head and continued, hoping both of you could just forget it. “None of those things are an excuse for what I did when it was truly a mistake. So, I’m sorry.” When you turned to climb down, you had nearly let yourself be suffocated by the weight of your near an admission. Was it an admission? Were you just emotional? Hormones? Insanity? The dream and then this?

“I won’t tell anyone.” 

You turned back, catching her eye and holding it. She could. She could spread it through the group and eventually it would make its way to Daryl and you were not ready to have that conversation. After a moment, you nodded in silent thanks. “Are we good?” Your voice was weaker than you intended. 

Andrea smiled, a surprising kindness in her gaze. “We’re good.”

You inexplicably wanted to cry, barely controlling the quiver of your chin. “Thanks.” Going down the ladder was a little more difficult in part to the blurred vision for which the tears were responsible. 

Once your feet were on the ground, you just started to walk, no destination in mind. When your heart screamed for Daryl, your rationality stomped it down. He was your friend. Alright, you’d been closer to him than anyone else in the group. It was never supposed to be something more. You didn’t want anything more. You didn’t want a baby with him. You didn’t want to feel trapped there. 

But you didn’t feel trapped, did you? The majority of that group was kind to you. They cared for you when you were ill, expecting nothing from you. Daryl, for all his tendency to an absolute asshat, had been tender with you at times. You were safe when you could have been alone, left to figure out the pregnancy and raise a baby on your own. No, you wouldn’t have made it on your own. The complications would have killed you. 

You let out a sob, walking faster and allowing the tears to flow without wiping them away. Your cheeks and neck were damp. Why were you even upset? Had the world finally broken you? You thought you’d last much longer than that, but you never could have predicted the events that had led you to where you were. 

And where you were was Daryl’s camp. 

The archer was perched on the ground, next to a dark patch of earth surrounded by rocks; a fire pit that was currently unutilized. He was scowling when he looked up at your approach, but his expression changed; a sudden conveyance of concern as he hauled himself to his feet. 

“S’wrong?” 

You didn’t know why you were there. The last thought of him before you spoke with Andrea was one of anger. Your body was crying out for a feeling of safety; for a shield from everything bad that could harm you or the little innocent life inside you. Somehow—for reasons you no longer had the energy to debunk—your feet took you straight to Daryl. 

“Y/N?” His gruff voice spoke into your hair after you walked directly into his space, your fisted hands tucked under your chin while your face pressed into the solid warmth of his chest. He didn’t move. You didn’t want him to, not really. It would only make everything more confusing. 

When he remained silent but his hand came to rest lightly against your back, you turned your hands and grabbed fistfuls of his vest. You pushed him away and hauled him right back, angry that he let you. You needed him to yell at you. You needed him to tell you that he didn’t care; that he’d only be around for you because of the baby. 

When you tried to shove him again, he stood firm, his other hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 

“Goddamnit, Daryl! Push me away! Shut me out!” You slapped a hand hard against his chest, fingers pulling at the leather again. 

“Why?”

You couldn’t answer him. You couldn’t answer because you didn’t know. You didn’t want him to send you away. And you were so scared of that revelation that you yearned to scream just to feel something other than scattered turmoil that was enveloping your heart in a deviant swaddle of barbed wire. 

Without a resolution to your emotional plight, you continued to cry until it drained everything out of you. Damn him, he just stood there with his arms around you; being the shield you so desperately needed. You wanted to hate him for it. 

You wanted to, but you couldn’t. 

Your sobs eventually dulled into sniffles and hiccups. After what felt like hours, your legs gave out, any strength you had when you left that bedroom was utterly spent. Daryl didn’t let you fall. You knew he wouldn’t. You weren’t tired enough to miss the way he held you up or the way he bent to sweep his arm under your knees. 

You didn’t look at him while he carried you; turned your back to him when he placed you on the cot inside his tent. The flinch when he draped the sleeping bag over you was unintentional. You hoped he’d leave. Maybe he’d go out to hunt, irritated that you invaded the space he’d built for himself. 

“Why’re ya here?”

Of course he didn’t. The universe hated you, that was abundantly clear now. “I—don’t know.”

“This cause’a hormones or whatever s’called?”

You snorted weakly, your hand working out from beneath the sleeping bag to wipe at your face. “What do you know about hormones, Daryl?”

“The book says—”

“Book?” You sat up on your forearm and twisted to look back at him. The archer looked annoyed, a decent flush spreading from his cheeks to the top of his ears. 

“Went into that town they go to for the meds an’ shit. Grabbed a, uh, book about baby stuff.” You blinked at him, earning a frown in return. “Don’t look at me like that. Yeah, I read, Y/N.”

You looked past his shoulder to where two books peeked from beneath some of his clothes. The one in question was closer, upside down and open beside the battery powered lamp. 

The Expectant Father: Facts, Tips, and Advice for Dads-to-be

The small upturn of one corner of your mouth had him shifting to shield the book from your sight. 

“How much have you read?” 

“‘Nough to know it ain’t much fun for ya some’a the time.” He wouldn’t look at you now, finding interest in a piece of grass that he’d tracked inside. You hummed, a stirring in your chest that directly correlated with the feelings that had guided you there in the first place. The difference now was that you felt oddly grounded, able to focus on a single thought or feeling. 

“Daryl?” He grunted without looking up. “Will you please move into the house?”

He sighed as though he’d been asked a thousand times. “Nah, too many people.”

“Then—can I stay out here with you?” It was your turn to find something to occupy your gaze. You settled on the sleeping bag zipper. 

“Ya need to be inside. Safer there.”

“I have a bedroom.” You weren’t sure how you felt about sharing a close space with the hunter, but you knew you needed him close. Tent or bedroom, you didn’t really care. “It’d just be me and you.” 

The subtle shift of his jaw indicated he was chewing the inside of his cheek. Maybe you could find him something like toothpicks or straws, anything to keep him from hurting himself when he was uncomfortable. 

“Why ya want me there? Ain’t like I’m miles away.”

“I feel safer with you.” Now it was you turning pink, your cheeks and neck flushing warm. 

Daryl snorted. “Ya got over half a dozen people in there.”

“They’re not you.” You countered before you could think of a better way to say it. “Look, you’re the first person I met from this group. You’ve never hurt me. I trust you to fight with me.” You ducked your head. “To fight for me. To protect me if I can’t protect myself. To protect our baby.” When you met his eyes, you realized he had never looked at you the way he was at that moment. He still had that unreadable expression that you sometimes wanted to slap off of his face, but his eyes. There was something in his eyes. 

“Lemme think ‘bout it.” He stated while rising to his feet. “Gotta meet ‘bout the kid later. Letcha know after.”

You didn’t want to drop the subject but at least he was going to consider it. Sitting up, you slumped on the cot, already feeling the need for a nap. Your energy levels had taken a major hit from your momentary lapse of sanity. Scratching at an itch on your belly, you were suddenly struck with the urge to share the progress note with Daryl. He was reading damn books on pregnancy. Surely he’d want to see. Right?

“Um, Daryl?”

“Yeah?” He’d stepped out to get his crossbow and bring it inside, continuing whatever he’d been doing. He still hadn’t asked you to leave. Maybe he was afraid you’d go batshit crazy a second time. 

“I thought you might—well, this morning—” You furrowed your brow, groaning at your inability to put it into words. Finally, you just stood and lifted your shirt, sliding your pants down to just above your pubic bone. “I, uh, can’t get into my jeans anymore thanks to Thumper.” 

Goddamn the man’s ability to maintain an expression of complete and utter stoicism. You suddenly felt self conscious, exposed. Maybe he couldn’t even see the difference. Fuck. 

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t—I think I should go.” You slipped your fingers beneath the waistband of the pants but that’s as far as you got before you felt Daryl’s fingertips on your knuckles. He didn’t say anything as he stepped closer, shining blue orbs zeroed in on your stomach. You tracked his movements, each step slow and deliberate until he was directly in front of you. Using the tip of his index finger, he drew a line from your sternum to just where your pants sat below the small curve of your belly. 

“Really in there, huh?” His voice was soft and raspy and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you at all. It seemed like a moment between father and child. His palm was warm when he placed it flat just below your navel. You watched his hand, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin. It tickled but you stifled the giggle that threatened. 

You opened your mouth to ask what the book said about how far along you were but when you lifted your gaze from your belly, he wasn’t looking at it at all. Deep blue pools were staring right back at you. 

You knew your breaths were coming faster and your heart was beating a tattoo against your ribs. “Daryl?” Did you imagine that or did he just glance at your lips? You brought your hand to his face, barely brushing his skin when he pulled away abruptly.

“Head on back to the house. Don’t think I’ll be movin’ in there. Better out here.” He grabbed up his weapon and turned his back to you. 

You were still standing frozen, belly exposed and hand just finally dropping to your side. “Daryl, I—”

“Go.” Daryl’s voice cracked on the word. 

You adjusted your clothing and stepped toward him. “Daryl—”

“GO!”

Eyes blown wide, you flinched back and stumbled from the tent. With energy you didn’t know you had, you ran and managed to make it to the house without falling though you stumbled on more than one occasion. You ignored the concerned calls of your name, nearly taking a tumble on the stairs, before finally disappearing into the bedroom and slamming the door. With your back against it, you tried and tried to catch your breath through the onslaught of tears. Your chest was tight, your stomach rolling. 

Trapped in your distress, you couldn’t hear the screen door slap against the wall, Daryl’s boots heading toward the stairs, or even Carol’s accusatory shout. 

“What did you do, Daryl?!”

[slasher-art]

(A small headcanon, in which It was the Supreme who hid Zagreus from everyone with the help of darkness. :))

Beware of spoilers!

The headcanon in which Dr. Strange Supreme became everything and nothing after falling into the sphere of the universe. But even though he restored the balance of energy, thereby restoring the universe, his consciousness continued to exist, still being imprisoned in everything around. After that, for some unknown reason, Chaos found this situation curious and returned, as far as possible, to Strange's consciousness a tangible form, while preserving it as a habitat for all living things. Perhaps Chaos felt that the former magician was somewhat similar to him.

The presence of the Supreme can be felt, you can even talk to him, but immediately after someone leaves Chaos gates, the consciousness of anyone ceases to perceive the Supreme as a unit of something integral and real, since the fact and mechanics of his existence cease to fit into the framework of consciousness.

The only one who can remember him and constantly contact him is Chaos, but this does not prevent the Supreme from enjoying even a short communication with someone who enters Chaos gates.

[featguler]

baby steps, baby ────── a late night conversation in his car. threading on a whole new thing with kylian.

♡ ────── pairing : kylian mbappé x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. reader lives in an apartment in paris and is a normal person. reader is somewhat insecure and is filled with doubts abt their relationship. ♡ ────── wordcount : 710 ♡ ────── notes : seems like i'm just writing whatever the fuck i want. send in req's pls ♡ masterlist.

You choose not to ask Kylian if he had ever felt the way you are feeling before.

Why would you?

His past relationships are none of your business, the previous pairs of lips he’d kissed are none of your business, and the beds he chose to spend his nights on before yours are none of your business either.

He opens the door to your side of the car, he orders your food for you, and asks if you would like to share a dessert to hide his own eagerness. He is endearing, and the right now you have is enough.

It’s silly to obsess over did-not-happen-yet scenarios. Your brain, though, cannot help but string you along.

As he drives down the road leading to your arrondissement, on your third night out after an awkward confession in your apartment, Kylian talks about how he has to fly soon to Germany. He talks about how they—whoever they are—have begun integrating group games and activities into practice, and he talks about how keeping a team cemented requires more HR work than anything else.

It still feels out of your mind that you are dating Kylian Mbappé—superstar footballer, conceited on field and humble off it. Grace lace his strides and half the world wants him. Or maybe not. You’re not sure. That’s what it feels like, though.

You wouldn’t imagine that you’d be sharing a drink together a few months back, moreover a car ride, moreover a night out, moreover a kiss.

“...come with me?”

You noticed that you were dozing off the conversation, preoccupied with Paris’ night light just outside your seat window.

“To Germany?” You ask, trying to gauge the context of the conversation from what you remember. “Me?”

He laughs a hearty laugh, glancing over at you as quick as he looks back to the road.

“Yeah,” his grin is illuminated by the occasional streetlights—you recognize the quirk of his eyebrow as the sign of an incoming jest. “Watch me play, beat the whole tournament in one game.”

You laugh along with him. “I’ve watched you plenty, Kylian.”

“Not outside France,” he retorts before stopping for a quick second. “And not outside Paris.”

“Well,” you hesitate, “I’ve got a job and all, you know? Can’t exactly drop everything and leave for Germany.”

You watch the fist around his steering wheel tighten, his lips pursing after yet another one of your rejection. He’d always asked you to come to his games—begged you, even. Far before you had recognized the intention behind his invites, he’d send texts asking if he should save a ticket. It would be a game in Spain or Germany, always somewhere far-off, and always on a working day.

You would think that he had gotten used to the disappointment, but you try putting yourself in his position, and imagine how he would feel. It’s probably different from the hurt you feel every time he has to leave you for long, but you try matching it.

“But anyway,” you speak, hoping to distract the sudden tense atmosphere invading the car. “How do you win a tournament with just one game?”

“You never know,” you hear the light returning to his words. “If I score 20 points in the first 30 minutes, maybe they’d change the rules.”

“I’d change the rules,” you counter. “For you.”

You turn to watch the road ahead, but from the corner of your eyes, you see a quirk of his lips, and then a quirk of his eyebrows.

“That’s sweet,” he reaches over to touch the hands folded on your lap, grabbing one in his. “But it would be boring if all the rules were altered to fit me.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, flipping your hand to return his hold. “You gotta take it one game at a time, one goal at a time.”

“Uh-huh,” he nods. “Baby steps. I’ll get there in due time.”

He pulls your hand over, pressing a kiss on top of your knuckles. This right now feels too good to be true—if it were you and him against the world, it seems like it wouldn’t be as scary as all of the imagined scenarios in your head.

“Baby steps, baby.” You look at him and cannot hold back the smile, “Baby steps.”

[gamerwoo]

Hyunjin: Age-Restricted (Epilogue)

Characters: Hyunjin x female reader (ft other skz members)

Genre/warnings: nanny!reader, ex-porn star/neighbor!hyunjin, fluff, humor, alcohol consumption, implied smut but nothing explicitly happens, if i missed anything lmk!!! (minors dni!!!)

Word count: 4,370

Summary: You think it’s luck when the new family you nanny for is so stupid rich that they rent you a fancy new apartment just so you can live closer to them. You think it’s luck when the guy across the hall is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your entire life and makes an effort to talk to you. But that’s just about where your luck runs out, because Hyunjin is more out of your league than you could ever imagine, and you’re just some hopeless virgin who never had good luck in the first place.

a/n: we finally reached the end!!! i will be revisiting this bc i just love the characters and universe so much so there will be little spin-offs and such here and there. thank you sm for all the love this series received :') <3

Previous | Series Masterlist

Out of all the outfits you’d seen Hyunjin wear, this was definitely the most handsome he’d ever looked. Even if it wasn’t as intricate as some of the other suits he’d worn, this was by far the best he’d looked. Standing in his all-black suit, he smiled at you across the aisle, absolutely beaming as he took in all the work on your hair, makeup, and perfectly-tailored dress. The song that the small orchestra played was a love song you were somewhat familiar with but you couldn’t put a name on – you didn’t have a say in the music and nobody told you what it was called. But the band put a twist on it to sound more like a wedding song since it was, in fact, a wedding.

All you could see was Hyunjin. Felix and Jeongin standing behind him as groomsmen were basically just blurs to you. All the flowers, the small audience, the officiate – everything had faded out of view. You had Hyunjin tunnel vision.

Unfortunately, Kit’s head was now eye-level with you because of the heels she wore, and it mildly destructed your view of your boyfriend. The white veil pinned above her perfect curls didn’t help, either.

You were a bit shocked that Kit had asked you to be her maid of honor. You thought she must’ve had other friends or family that she had known longer or were closer with. She did have a friend from the industry in her bridal party, as well as Changbin’s sister, but that was really it. She claimed you were her favorite girl in her life and she wanted you to be the maid of honor, and really, who were you to say no? You loved Kit and felt honored that you meant that much to her.

Of course, Hyunjin was Changbin’s best man. You remembered how he was beaming when Changbin had asked him. He had come back from a night out with Changbin, Felix, and Jeongin, and he squealed about how all of them were in the wedding party but he was the best man. It was really sweet how much Changbin and Hyunjin cared about and supported each other.

The wedding was big and extravagant like you thought it would be since it involved Kit. While you knew she wasn’t the one who found marriage to be completely necessary, you knew that if she were going to have a wedding to make Changbin happy that she would want to go all out. And as anybody could guess, Changbin would never tell Kit no. The wedding looked like if the Twilight wedding was held in a warm, sunny field outside of a large venue. The venue itself just looked like someone’s large palace. It made you wonder just how much money Changbin and Kit were making, but that wasn’t any of your business. You just had to sit back and enjoy the wedding.

Well, after the ceremony, of course.

The crowd consisted of Kit’s dad’s side of the family, as well as Changbin’s entire family, your old roommates who had integrated into the friend group, and some of Changbin and Kit’s own friends that you’d either met a couple of times or had never seen before. You were actually a bit surprised – and intimidated as you stood in front of the crowd – by how many people they’d invited to this wedding.

The ceremony was short, but sweet. They each prepared vows, and that was honestly the longest part of the whole ceremony, but it was the most entertaining as well as the sweetest. They both put little jokes here and there in their vows to tease the other, which made everyone laugh. But in the end, they were both sniffling with eyes filled with tears of happiness. They kissed, were dubbed married, and walked back up the aisle as they smiled and held hands. 

Leaving you back to grinning like a goofball at your boyfriend across the aisle, who tried to hold in a laugh as he shook his head back at you.

The justice of the peace gestured for you and Hyunjin to come together, so you both walked forward to meet in the middle. You hooked your arm through his, carrying your bouquet as you walked back up the aisle.

You felt Hyunjin lean into you before you felt his warm breath fanning your ear as he said quietly, “This’ll be us someday.”

You tried to contain your eyeroll – you didn’t because you still couldn’t control your facial expressions and had started to believe you never would – since you knew pictures were being taken as you replied, “Probably soon since you have to rush straight into everything.”

Hyunjin scoffed, “Angel, you already know it’s the drama gene. I thought we were passed this.”

-

“So I block her number, but then Jeongin also has to block her number because she started calling him,” Felix explained, talking about a development in the story of him and a girl he started going on dates with from a dating app. 

The short of it was that he matched with this cute brunette girl with freckles, they went on three dates, and she slowly started revealing more red flags throughout each date until the third and final date where Felix broke it off. Now, she was stalking him.

“Ew,” Minho showed a look of disgust, holding a beer bottle in his hand as he leaned against the bar and listened to Felix’s story. 

He was sitting in a stood between the two of you, pulled out just enough that he could look at you both comfortably. You were sitting in a stool on his other side, turned sideways to face your two friends while your arm rested on the cool countertop and your hand wrapped around your mixed drink. You were currently drinking Changbin’s signature drink, which was a whiskey sour. You decided you like it better than Kit’s spicy strawberry daiquiri.

“Yeah, I know!” he agreed, eyes wide. “So we both have her blocked, but then she starts showing up at work!”

“Dude, what?” you laugh, unable to believe what you were hearing. “How did she find out where you work? Did you tell her?”

“No! Never!” he insisted. “I was always sober for my dates and I was so sure to be careful with giving out information too personal on the first date. I just said I worked at a hotel which is…almost true. It’s not a hotel but it’s, like, the same sort of job, right? Anyway, after the end of the first date, I knew I wasn’t gonna trust her with anything personal yet, and the dates kept getting worse and worse, so I never said anything.”

“Yeah, she’s just a certified psycho,” Minho nodded before taking a sip of his beer. It was a bit weird seeing Minho all cleaned up, but you had to admit he looked nice. Perfectly combed brown hair, the jacket of his tux left at his table draped across the back of his chair, and the sleeves of his white button-up were rolled up his forearms. You’d known Minho a long time but never knew he could look this handsome. 

So the reason he’s single has nothing to do with his looks, you thought to yourself. Got it.

“Crazy people will find out anything,” he continued once he had swallowed. “Take Jisung for instance. He knows everything. …And somehow still nothing at all.”

You shrugged with a slight nod. Jisung was definitely the dumbest smart person you knew.

“Okay, but Jisung isn’t stalking people,” Felix stated.

“Okay, but she found out where you work,” you interrupted, trying to get the story back on track. You were very invested. “Then what happened?”

“Yeah, so she showed up during the day before mine or Jeongin’s shifts started but she was asking for me, right? Well, I go in for my shift and Hannie was leaving and mentioned how this girl came in asking for me and she described her. So obviously, I’m like, we need to ban this girl from coming back here. Well she put in an application to live there!”

Your eyes went wide and so did Minho’s. This girl was straight-up insane.

“Does she realize how much that place costs?” you asked.

“Possible sugar mommy,” Minho suggested.

“Oh, shut up,” you told him, rolling your eyes. “So what’re you gonna do?”

“So, what I’m thinking I should do–”

You suddenly saw an arm swing between you and Felix, slapping the counter. You first looked to see it was Kit in her smaller white dress for the reception. It had sheer long sleeves like her actual wedding dress, but the rest of the dress was a plain ivory that was form-fitting and went down to her mid thigh.

“Speaking of psycho sugar mommies…” Minho mumbled before sipping his beer like he didn’t say a word.

Then you followed her tattooed arm down to her hand and saw she slapped cash on the counter. Twenty to be exact.

Felix’s eyebrows were furrowed, “What’s that for?”

Behind Kit was Changbin still in his suit, but without the jacket. You thought the suspenders might make him look silly, but you had to admit, he looked pretty good with them. His hands were in his pocket, but instead of looking disappointed like you thought he might, he was smirking.

Instead of waiting for Kit to answer Felix’s question, your head was whipping around, eyes darting to find your target.

“_____ wins,” Kit sighed. “Unfortunately, we didn’t count on the weird one having just natural weird-kid rizz.”

Finally, you spotted him. Through the crowd, diagonally across the room from you, was Jisung standing there beside a girl with beach blonde hair, and wearing heels that made Jisung perfectly eye-level with her very large breasts – even you were staring and you were shocked to see Jisung was looking straight up into her eyes the entire conversation. You could tell that he was a little nervous but was trying to play it off – the beer in his hand was probably helping – but also that she was very blatantly hitting on him. Touching his shoulder, biting her lip, and twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Yeah, Jisung may be weird, but he had an undeniable draw to him because he was weird. That’s why you bet your twenty bucks on him.

The other two at the counter began looking around to see why you were smiling and laughing like a maniac. When they spotted Jisung with someone who was obviously one of Kit’s friends, they turned back to you.

“Hang on, what’s happening?” Minho asked.

“Us and Hyunjin made a bet on who would pull a pornstar first,” Changbin clarified with a chuckle as he pulled one hand from his pocket and handed you a twenty himself between his forefinger and middle. “_____ made a brave choice and put her money on Jisung.”

“But it’s always the weird ones…” Kit sighed heavily, shaking her head like the loss of fourty bucks between her and her new husband was the worst thing to happen to her.

Changbin smirked and gently elbowed her, “You of all people should’ve known that.”

Now, the two men you had been having a conversation with were staring at you. Minho looked angry, and Felix just looked offended.

“Jisung?!” Minho demanded. “You picked that freak over me?!”

“Well clearly for good reason,” you laughed, gesturing over to Jisung who was still having a conversation with the blonde girl. “How many pornstars have you talked to besides these two and Hyun?”

“What’s going on?” Jeongin waltzed up with a drink in his hand, and Seungmin and Chan behind him with drinks of their own. “We saw Minho looks pissed.”

“Did you know about this bet?” Felix asked them.

“What bet?” Seungmin asked.

“The four chuckleheads made a bet on which one of us would pull a pornstar first, and the traitor didn’t choose any of us!” Minho exclaimed.

None of them seemed to care, and Chan was the one shrug and ask, “Who’d you choose.”

“The winner,” you grinned widely, pointing over at Jisung.

The small crowd turned their heads. That was when they started to care.

Well, except for Chan who just smiled and nodded and said, “Damn, good for him.”

“Jisung?!” Seungmin shouted, whipping back to you. “You picked that weirdo over your best friend?!”

“Hey!” Minho scowled.

“Clearly it was the right decision,” you shrugged. “Don’t be mad that I was right.”

“It’s not about being right, it’s that you didn’t have faith in us but you did in him,” Jeongin frowned, also clearly very butthurt about the situation.

“For good reason!” you insisted.

As the group began attacking you for your choice, Jisung suddenly walked up and let out a breathy, “Hey…”

Everyone looked at him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wide. But more perplexing, he had a napkin stuffed into the pocket of his unbuttoned suit jacket.

Chan reached over and plucked the flimsy paper out and saw that there was a number written down on it in red pen. He was grinning and giggling, but everyone else – other than you and the happy couple – seemed annoyed and began groaning and huffing.

With fearful eyes, he looked across the group at Kit, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do anything with her. I’m just a guy.”

“Truthfully, Aliyah is never like that,” Kit laughed. “She’s actually painfully shy unless she turns the persona on. She was really trying to impress you.”

“And for what!” Minho shouted, gesturing very sharply at the flustered boy.

“Porn stars are also very well aware that sex isn’t like in porn,” Changbin told him matter-of-factly with a chuckle. “We’re…still people, dude.”

“That’s not a person, that’s a goddess,” he said, pointing back to where Aliyah once stood but was now off giggling with some friends like a middle-schooler who just got asked out by her crush by her locker.

It was actually really cute.

“_____,” Changbin spoke up while the group was either trying to give Jisung a pep talk – that was mostly just Kit and Chan – or were complaining how it shouldn’t have been him, “Hyunjin still owes you money. I think he’s outside.”

He ended the statement with a wink and gestured for you to leave the group as he stepped aside to make room for you. You weren’t entirely sure what the wink was for, but you got up and slid between him and Kit to go outside, leaving your drink at the bar. Either it would get drunk by one of your friends, or it would be there when you returned. You didn’t care either way.

The outside back garden of the venue looked like something out of a fairytale. There were bushes that went up to your hip that were perfectly trimmed, and flower bushes scattered about. The bushes were spread out and separated between pathways with benches scattered throughout the garden. And in the center of it all was a beautiful fountain surrounded by four benches that were spaced out with a few feet in between them.

You found your boyfriend sitting on one of the benches by the fountain, but he was facing away from the fountain and the building, staring up at the night sky. Surprisingly, you could still see a decent amount of stars since the lighting was so warm and dim outside. Wordlessly, you went over and sat down beside him, the bottom of your dress hitting the ground. You were too tipsy at that point to care about it getting dirty, though.

“Wish I brought my pad now,” he mused quietly. “I didn’t think the sky would be so pretty. Watercolors would capture this pretty well.”

All you did was hum and nod in agreement, your eyes also on the stars.

You felt Hyunjin’s head turn, his gaze now on you. He studied your profile like he wanted it to burn into his memory – if it already wasn’t. 

“I was serious before,” he told you.

You turned to look back at him, “What?”

“When I said that would be us someday. And sooner rather than later.”

Once again, you scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully, “Yeah, babe, I know.”

“Oh, do you think I’m bluffing?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “Do you really think my dramatic ass wouldn’t go out the morning after we first had sex to buy you a ring?”

That caught you off guard. Your eyes were locked on him again, searching for any hint of him kidding around or just saying that to get your attention. You wanted to call him crazy. What kind of incel would go out and get an engagement ring after one night of intimacy?

But you had to remember this was Hyunjin, and he was as dramatic as they come. But he always was sure of his decisions before he made them. And he was sure of you from the start.

However, this was a huge deal, and you had to call him on his bluff. He must’ve been exaggerating. Who the hell in their right mind would go out and buy a ring immediately after some probably-decent-at-best sex?

So your eyes narrowed, “Hwang Hyunjin, there’s no fucking way you did that.”

The look he gave you said, ‘Oh really?’ as he immediately leaned toward you and began digging in his right pocket. 

Oh god, was he serious? Did he actually have a ring? And he could see the panic replace the smugness on your face because his smirk only widened.

If he was serious, you couldn’t let this happen now. And maybe he was just fucking with you, but this wasn’t a chance you could take anymore.

“No, no, no!” you rushed to get the word out as you scrambled to reach over and grab his arm, stopping his actions. “It’s literally your best friends’ wedding! You can’t propose at a wedding! Stop it!”

With loud laughter, Hyunjin pulls his hand out of his pocket, pulling the inside of it out with his index and thumb. You could see there was nothing there, and Hyunjin had, in fact, played you. You did find it funny, but you scowled at him anyway. He could still see in your eyes how amusing it was, so he only laughed harder.

“I’d never do that. I’m not that dramatic that I’d take the spotlight like that,” he promised, still laughing. But then he stopped, leaning into you. “But, tomorrow is completely on limits.”

As he gave you a sweet smile and batted his eyelashes, you pushed his head away and rolled your eyes, “Yeah, okay, just give me my twenty bucks.”

His eyebrows raised as he sat back again, “Oh, Jisung won?”

You nodded.

He let out a deep sigh as he went into his other pocket where he was keeping his wallet, mumbling, “I really thought it was gonna be Felix…”

“No, you just have a crush on Felix,” you reminded him as he slid a twenty out and you snatched it up.

“But nothing compared to what I feel for you, my love,” he cooed, and you could tell he was trying to be overly-sweet, but also that he meant it. So when he puckered his lips, you sighed and gave him a chaste kiss. He hummed and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Oh!” you suddenly had a thought that you had wanted to bring up to Hyunjin. “Changbin’s sister told me I don’t need to babysit anymore because their parents want to bring them to the zoo tomorrow, so I’m free to, like, rot in bed or whatever you wanna do tomorrow.”

Word had gotten to Changbin’s older sister, who had a son, that you used to be a nanny and you had been a free agent. He got the two of you in contact, and she offered you a job. And she was a great boss with an easy kid to take care of, so you’d been working for her for the last almost year.

“Ugh, thank god,” he sighed as he leaned into you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “It would feel so awful to go home, celebrate our friends’ marriage, and then wake up to an empty bed.”

Your eyebrows raised as you looked down at him where he had his head rested on your shoulder, “Oh, you had plans tonight?”

He rolled his eyes, “Come on, _____. We both know I have plans for us almost every night.”

-

“Baby?” Hyunjin’s soft voice was breaking through your sleep as he gently shook your shoulder. “_____, my love.”

You got home at about 11:30. There was no after party since Kit and Changbin had a few friends who were either sober or had substance addictions, and the pair didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. So while you had expected for some sort of celebration to continue after the venue had shut down, you were a little relieved to know you could go home and go to sleep.

Despite Hyunjin’s words, he had rolled over and was seemingly out before you even got out of the bathroom after taking off your makeup. But you were fine with that. You had all day the next day to do whatever the two of you wanted anyway, so you laid down beside him and fell asleep.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed between then and now.

You hummed in response, rubbing your eyes.

“It’s 12:01,” he whispered in your ear, his breath fanning your hair. “It’s tomorrow.”

“Mm…so?” you asked groggily, trying to roll over with your eyes still closed. You were now on your back, arms sprawled out but legs still in the same curled-up position.

He chuckled, “Open your eyes.”

You blinked them open. You were pretty sure one actually opened before the other one like a lizard. And you had to blink a few times to focus on anything. But when you did, you shot straight up.

Hyunjin was sitting up in bed, facing you with a fond smile, and a small box held open with a dainty but absolutely sparkling and stunning ring in it.

“But, tomorrow is completely on limits.”

He really wasn’t bluffing.

“I could spend hours talking about how much I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I already do that every other night,” he laughed softly. His cheeks were flushed pink, and you were sure this was maybe the fifth time you’d seen Hyunjin flustered to any capacity. “So, for once, instead of doing all the dramatics, I want to keep it simple. Just like that first night. Simple, yet romantic.

“So, ______,” he was giggling, and you were giggling. And you were both leaning in closer and closer. “Will you marry me?”

Your heart was fluttering in your chest and you had that weird cold/hot feeling you got in your stomach when you were about to have an anxiety attack. But this time, it was a good feeling. It made your smile widen and your giggle go higher because you were just so excited and happy and every good feeling you could possibly have even if you felt like you might throw up.

And it was a good thing Hyunjin did this all sitting in bed because you were sure your legs would give out if he did this all traditionally.

You wanted to ramble out something like “a million times yes” or “i’d say yes in every universe” or something to really get the point across, but that felt too cheesy and insincere. But just “yes” felt like it wasn’t enough. So instead, you just sat there nodding furiously with a smile so wide you thought your face would split into two.

“Don’t know how to reply?” he guessed because he knew to this day you still overthought sometimes.

You nodded again.

But he knew you so well and knew you didn’t have to say anything. So he sealed it with a kiss so you didn’t have to worry about saying anything at all. When he pulled away, his forehead stayed on yours as he looked down and slid the ring on your finger.

He smiled, “Perfect fit.

“And speaking of perfect fits…” he chuckled evilly while he grabbed your waist and rolled you over so you were laying down again on your back and he was above you, “we never got to our plans after the wedding.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and your head cocked to the side as you looked up at him, “I don’t ge–... Hyunjin!” your cheeks heated as you got what he meant, and he just laughed.

“Good thing you’re not working tomorrow. Would hate to have Eunwoo ask why you’re walking funny.”

“Yeah, don’t get me fired from a second job,” you joked.

“I’m always more than willing to be the sole provider,” he reminded you with a playful grin as he nudged his nose against your jaw.

“Save your money, Hwang. We have a wedding to plan now,” you told him as he left soft kisses along your neck.

“Are you sure you don’t want to elope?”

“Really? You want to miss out on the one time you can be as big and dramatic and romantic as you want?” you laughed.

“Oh, we can still have a giant party. But I want to be married to you now,” he pulled away to grin down at you, his forehead resting against yours. “But if it’s what you want, I can wait.”

“I love you,” you told him sweetly.

“God, I never get sick of hearing that,” he chuckled as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I love you more. Can’t wait for you to be mine.”

“I’m always yours. Ring or no ring.”

“Now who’s the dramatic one?” he asked teasingly, his tongue poking out playfully between his teeth.

“What can I say, you’ve rubbed off on me.”

“Oh, I’ve done a lot more than that.”

“Hwang Hyunjin!”

[carionto]

What Humans call the "Thousand Yard Stare"

As more and more Humans interact with and integrate within Coalition stations, reports, closer to hushed whispers really, began to circulate of some Humans being... discomforting... to be around.

Initially we thought it was just rudeness or passive aggressive behavior or any number of subtle actions or choice of words, no matter how advanced or civilized there will always be some assholes.

However, when some of these "offenders" were presented to us peacekeepers, we found them to be perfectly polite and reasonable. As our conversation continued and shifted topics, whenever there was a lull or the focus was on another speaker for a longer time, the Human's gaze drifted somewhat.

Sometimes she would look to the side and it was harder to tell what her exact expression was, but every so often she would be looking at one of us, but... not. It was as if she was staring at something behind us, through us even. Beyond the walls of the station, it even felt as though beyond space and time itself.

It was one of the most unnerving and chitin-chilling feelings we've ever felt, but then the Human seemed to notice our change and became that friendly and cheerful person once again:

"Sorry, my mind drifted there for a bit. What were you saying?"

And the conversation continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary for the Human.

Upon our return to our office, one of the Human peacekeepers heard about our impromptu assignment and offered this explanation after we told him what happened:

"Oh yeah, I think that person was a retired firefighter or rescue worker of some kind. Professions like that can be dangerous and you'll eventually encounter something horrible at a disaster site or crime scene. Probably saw someone die, or a person they rescued later didn't make it, or it was a kid... It's the toughest when you're the last one a child sees before..."

There it is again. That look, but with a tinge of sadness this time. We didn't know he was carrying such memories. The untimely death of anyone is a difficult time for those that survive, especially when it is the young whose life was still just starting. It seems Humans with their heightened senses and sensitivity to the feelings of others these kind of experiences imprint a far stronger memory than for most.

"Anyway, we've got a bunch of names for such things, but typically we call it the thousand yard stare. It's an old measurement unit, don't worry about it. I think the meaning may have changed a bit over the years, but basically some people go through traumatic stuff and they decide, consciously or not, to sort of... detach themselves from reality. It's a coping mechanism.

A few people thrive on horrible things, but they're the exception. Most of us would go crazy or depressed or any other infinite bad possibilities our brains can go in if we don't find a way to separate ourselves from certain realities. It can get real bad otherwise. It's rare, but a few go truly nuts and try to inflict their pain unto others. Most end up suffering alone for a long time. And some can't take it anymore and decide to end it themselves.

Thankfully therapists and support options are widely available, so those kind of scenarios are really rare, like... suicide accounts for about three out of a hundred thousand deaths last time I saw those charts. Plus drones and automation take care of most of the dangerous tasks, leaving the vast majority of cases to be caused by interpersonal relations actually. A broken heart is one of those traumas we'll never get rid of it seems. That's just life, I guess."