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elysianslove · 4 years ago

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heaven on your lips; matsukawa smau

synopsis; he finds refuge in that no matter what, you will always come back to him. he finds refuge in that he’s the sole reason for your pleasure and happiness. whether that be from the sidelines, or from within the four walls of your home, in the confines of your bedroom. no matter what, you’re his, and he’s yours, even if neither of you seem to notice it.

pairings; matsukawa issei x fwb!reader

genre; fluff, smut, humor

warnings; cursing and inappropriate language. nsfw and suggestive themes.

masterlist | previous , chapter fifteen , next

“you look so— good.”

it’s the first thing that you notice when you slide open your door to greet semi, at exactly seven minutes past five in the evening. he’s punctual, and you’re sure of that because you’d heard the roar of his car’s engine arrive at your door seven minutes earlier. you’re not too upset about this though, because you’d needed those extra seven minutes of preparation and self boost, as much as he apparently did too.

at your words, semi laughs lightly, and the second thing you notice is just how much prettier he is in real life. of course, you’d met him before, spent hours with him too. but seeing him in a different light, from a different perspective, and also with how the two of you are older now, it somehow makes him even more attractive. his hair is the same lovely silver, dipping into a darker tone at the ends, and it’s styled nicely, yet not too neatly: making an effort, but effortlessly. his smile is slight and simple, and it sends a flurry of butterflies to the pit of your stomach. you shiver to try to rid yourself of them.

you were right, for the matter. he does look really good. he dons a plain, loose and thick, lavender sweatshirt, which compliments his hair rather nicely. it’s tucked into his black trousers, which have a two chains dangling from one hook in the front to the back on his right hip, similar to the chain on your own skirt. to compliment the simplicity of his sweatshirt, he wears a couple of chain necklaces, paired with a small cross. you were really right.

as your eyes travel back up to his face, you notice the light pink that’s dusting his cheeks, and instead of eliciting a cheeky, teasing remark from you, all it does is fluster you even more, and you shiver lightly. so instead, you ask, “ready to go?”

he nods at you, smiling and muttering a simple, “whenever you are,” before he steps back to allow you space to leave and shut the door behind you.

soon after you’re in his car, the neighborhood’s music playing in the background as he drives off. he has the windows down, the wind’s breeze welcome despite it tousling your hair. december weather is always perfect back home: it’s not snowing yet, so it’s not too cold, but it’s not the stifling heat of the summer either. it’s settling somewhere in between, enough to make it necessary to wear thicker layers, but not to the point that your fingertips purple.

the route he takes is not familiar, but you still recognize the streets. it’s not a reason for worry either way; this date is iwaizumi-approved after all. you enjoy the scenery as it dashes by you, making small talk with him, catching up slightly as he drives the two of you to your destination.

“would it scare you too much if i asked you to put on a blindfold?” he asks, eyeing you slightly with a careful smile.

you laugh, twisting in your seat to face him better. “depends; what’s it gonna be for?” you tease, and he gasps jokingly at your insinuation.

“that sounds more like a second date activity than a first, don’t you think?” he retorts.

you giggle, leaning your head against the passenger seat’s headrest, watching him as he drives. he has a really nice side profile. a nice everything. “aw, already thinking of the second date?” you say. he only hums in amusement to humor you, pulling out the blindfold from his pocket and handing it to you. “alright, my life’s in your hands now, pretty boy,” you tell him, before you lift up the cloth, and tie it at the back of your head.

when semi unlocks your car door, you try not to resort to your other senses as he leans down and takes your hand, leading you out of the car. his hands are firm, grasping yours steadily and firmly, and the pads of his fingers are calloused, a symbol of his musical talent. when your fingers brush against the back of his hand, you find it so soft, veins barely evident underneath your touch.

“careful, don’t trip,” he guides you, and you hear the car door shut behind you. wherever he’s taken you, there seems to be a lot more wind, and excitedly, you squeeze his hand, letting him lead the way, before, a couple steps later, he comes to a stop. you do too, and you hear him step behind you, feel his hands brush lightly against your hair as he tentatively undoes the blindfold. “moment of truth,” he whispers, before finally the blindfold falls, and your eyes blink back open.

your breath hitches in your lungs, and you freeze, eyes frozen on the scenery before you. you’re at a beach, the shore a little bit further away from you, the sun hanging low, cascading a pink and orange simmer on the waves. once given the okay to feel and smell all around you, the sea salt breeze rushes through you, and you shiver, but it’s not from the cold. it’s from just how thought out this is. there’s a blanket spread out on the sand, plain white, with two pillows and food spread out. there’s fruit, bread, ramen, drinks, everything. and on the picnic basket in the corner, there is another, smaller bouquet of flowers, simple daisies. he planned a beach picnic.

he planned a beach picnic.

holy shit.

“semi,” you gasp out, finally managing to turn to face him. he’s eyeing you carefully, observing your expression in an attempt to read it. “semi this is—”

he laughs lightly at your speechlessness, and walks closer to you, closer to the setup, outstretching a hand. “after you,” he urges.

you look back quickly at the blanket spread out by your feet, before gazing back at him, and in a sudden rush, you reach out for him, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady him, and leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“oh,” he sighs, breath staggering as you step back.

“thank you,” you whisper, smiling at him brightly. he smiles back.

by the time you’ve finished your ramen, sipped on your drink, and have begun snacking on the fruit semi’s brought, the sun is dipping further down, illuminating your surroundings barely. he’d come prepared though and had brought out two lamps, placing them between the two of you. as you stick your toothpick in another piece of fruit, you listen intently as he speaks, telling you of some hilarious rampage him, tendō and ushijima had gone on.

“you three were pretty close, huh?” you mumble, shifting so that you lean on one hand to your side, your legs spread out elegantly to your other side.

he nods. “yeah we spent a lot of time together,” he replies. “what with school, volleyball, and the dorms.” at the mention of this, he laughs, before continuing, “yeah don’t get me started on the dorms and the shit tendō would drag us into.”

you laugh with him.

“what about you?” he adds. “you and your third years were also pretty close, weren’t you. i saw you at a couple of their games.”

you hum, sitting up straighter. “i grew up with oikawa and iwa, so i’ve known them my whole life.”

he looks surprised at that, asking, “you— you did? i didn’t imagine the three of you went this far back.”

“oh yeah since diapers,” you say, giggling lightly. “oikawa i’ve known maybe two years longer, since our mothers were friends, and then iwa moved in right by us and it was like fate really.”

his mouth falls open, and he breaths in steadily, as if about to speak up. but then his eyes falter, and he sighs instead. instead of mentioning it, you pick up a cherry stem, two red cherries hanging off on either end, and pop one in your mouth, spitting out the seed before eating the other one. he watches your mouth part carefully as you take the other seed out, fiddling with the stem in your fingers.

“can you tie a knot?” he asks, curious.

“hm?”

he nods at the stem in your hand, pointing a finger barely, before asking again, “can you tie a knot with your tongue?”

you raise a brow at him. “maybe.”

he grins at you, before suddenly, he’s a lot closer. “show me,” he encourages. you see his eyes flicker to your lips, to the stain of red from the cherries you’d just eaten, and reflexively, you bite on your bottom lip, muffling your laugh. otherwise, you do as he asks, and brings the cherry stem in your mouth, placing it on your tongue.

you yourself have settled closer to him, and you’re not sure when this tension had built all of a sudden, but you welcome it. with the cold that’s pinching at both your revealed skin, his cheeks are dusted pink, and so is the tip of his nose. his hair, longer than it had been in your high school years, covers the tips of his ears, but the breeze shifts it, and you notice how red they are too. maybe it’s the dimming light around you that’s set the mood like this, or maybe it’s the fact that you’re all technically alone, secluded away in this corner of the beach. either way, you feel your nerves alight as his eyes remain on you, as your tongue moves and twists and your teeth pull at the stem. and when it��s all done, when you’ve tied the knot, you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out and revealing the stem to him, and he visibly shivers.

taking it between your fingers, you showcase it to him. “that’s what i like to call talent,” you joke, twisting the stem between your fingers.

“can i kiss you?”

the question forces you back slightly, throwing you off guard for a second, but you drop the stem without another moment of hesitation, and gasp out, “yes,” and his hands are settling on your cheeks and bringing you to him before you could think. you welcome the taste of him on your lips, kissing him back. although he seems eager, he feels gentle. he’s testing out the waters, letting you slightly take the lead, so you do, leaning closer, kissing him harder, breathing him in, leaning into his touch. as he deepens the kiss, encouraged by your actions, you sit up. his mouth doesn’t leave yours once as you push yourself closer to him, hands blindly reaching for him until finally, you settle on his lap. his hands leave your face at that, dipping down to your waist, welcoming the new position.

it’s when his hands grip your waist, caress down to your hips and squeeze at your thighs that you realize— he’s different. he feels different, smells and tastes different. his hands don’t necessarily feel wrong, because they feel good on you. you want more, want him to push you flush against him, want to press your lower body harsher on him, want to kiss him till he’s breathless. you do, you want to so much.

and yet, even if it doesn’t feel wrong, it also doesn’t feel right.

there’s something missing, something you can’t identify. you kiss him harder, pushing away at the thoughts, trying to lose yourself in him, in all of him. he gasps against you as you grip at his sweater, your hands trailing upwards tangling in his hair, pulling and tugging. his moans are muffled against your mouth and you swallow them eagerly, hips rutting against him, your own gasps tumbling out.

still, there’s something missing.

you’re unable to dwell on it for too long as he grabs a firmer hold on your body, and twists you, pushing you down onto the blanket.

end note; i’m v sorry to have kept you guys waiting so long for this chapter omg, but i hope it didn’t disappoint at all. i’m nervous to post it uh oh. anyways! things are gonna get so good ugh i miss issei

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i’m really sorry if tumblr won’t tag you :( please let me know if you’re not getting notifications or if i’m misspelling your @ or if even missed it!!

and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!! <3

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu smut #haikyuu first kiss #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa smau #matsukawa issei smau #mattsun x reader #mattsun smau #semi x reader #semi smau #semi eita x reader #semi eita smau #s. heaven on your lips

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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

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Cabur - Rogue, Chapter 6| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: A few weeks have passed and after landing on a small planet to collect a bounty, you and Mando decide to take a little trip to the market to stock up on some things. Nothing will come up here.. right?

Warnings: Angsty angsty annnnngst, (Sorry, I don’t mean to be so horrible to dear reader), Swearing (mild), brief mentions of death, touching on the same things as chapter 4 but not as heavy but I’ll still add the trigger warnings ♥︎ These chapters will get lighter, I promise,

Not beta read, I wanted to get this one out because I love it so apologies for any mistakes, I’ll be going in to edit a little later

Trigger warnings: Anxiety, horrible thoughts/insults, triggering comments maybe, thoughts of not being able to cope.

Words: About 6210

AN: Okay, okay, so, I was listening to my Rogue playlist on Spotify (link coming soon) and a certain song came on that just fuelled this chapter. SO, I highly recommend listening to Leave A Light On by Tom Walker if you want the vibes for this chapter. Just… honestly, please do it (I may have had tears)

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss

Mando’a translation: Cabur - Protector or Guardian

A few weeks had passed since that night you saved the Mandalorian’s life, since he threw away the bounty puck to keep you safe.

You’d stayed that night grounded, and then when Mando was able to get up in the morning, he flew you off of that dump of a planet.

He didn’t ask anymore but how you had managed to save him. Whether he knew you were lying or not, he hadn’t pushed it, choosing instead to respect you. Kind of like how you respected him and his Creed.

You’d fallen into a sort of routine around the Razor Crest, without either of you realising it. Mando would fly the ship, and you could be found seeing to Grogu and Duru, or tidying things up. Sometimes you would clean the weapons in the cabinet, making sure they stayed in pristine condition.

Now and then, Mando would head out to get a bounty and when he got back, he would let you help patch him up. You never saw his bare skin, respected that. You would look away or close your eyes, pointing out the best things to use or how to administer them. The man was good at first aid, but his answer to everything was to shove the cauteriser on it. So, when you had been passing through some shops one day, you had stocked up on medical supplies, even found a shop selling the same herbs and plants that your mother had taught you about.

You’d even been on a few of the hunts with him.

Of course, you had argued first. When you’d asked him about it one day on the way out of Nevarro, Mando had simply said no.

Which had immediately riled you. You were not a girl who liked that word. You despised that word.

Which is how you’d spent the whole night and next two days bickering, over the question of your safety. When he lost that front, (“Seriously, Mando? I’m a fugitive. And after all, I’ve got a big, strong Mandalorian to protect me”) the Mandalorian had moved on to your lack of thinking before throwing yourself into the firefight.

He lost that one too.

(“Says the man who stole back a child surrounded by Stormtroopers.”

“You’re not coming. End of.”

“Did you want me to bring your pulse rifle over?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“You’re right. Pulse rifle and an extra blaster.”

“I hate you, you know that?”

“Sure you do, Lori. I’ll see you at the ramp.”)

That nickname had slipped out by accident, and he’d regarded you, for a long time. He’d gone still, and you almost swore you heard a hitch of breath through his helmet and then he just nodded and murmured softly, “See you down there.”

There had been a lot of little moments like that but they were so fleeting that you were almost convinced you’d imagined it. You were imagining a lot of things lately.

Sometimes, when you were walking through forests or towns, you thought you spotted something lingering at the edges of your vision.

A tall figure, cloaked in a hood that was embroidered in either silver or gold, depending on the light.

You’d even asked Mando about it a few times, but he hadn’t seen anything so you simply put it down to a trick of the light or sleeplessness, nightmares still plaguing you now and then.

Regardless of the nightmares and your vision playing tricks on you, you were doing… okay. You were warm, safe, had a comfy place to sleep. You had things to keep you busy, things that weren’t hunting for food or a good spot to hunker down in for the night.

Duru was happy too, having become fast friends with Grogu and the two of them ran rings around you and the Mandalorian. Well, mainly Mando, which you found hilarious because he was such an exasperated dad with them both.

It was a rare reprieve from your life, letting you slow down and… live. Rather than survive.

“I do not talk in my sleep.”

“Yes, you do!! Sometimes, I think you’re awake but you’re just having a fully-fledged conversation with your blanket.”

“Oh, shut up. I know I don’t talk in my sleep, tin can. You were probably just having dreams about me again.” You examined the fruit in front of you, then handed over a few credits to the kind vendor, slipping the fruit in your bag.

The sound of fabric hitting the floor sounded from behind you, and you turned to see that the Mandalorian had dropped the bag you’d made him carry. “I do NOT have dreams about you!” He stooped to pick up the bag, then rose to see you standing with your hands on your hips, eyebrow raised and that damn smirk on your lips.

“Mmhm, is that why you always have to pull something over your lap when I wake you up?”

He stared at you, and you had the very correct feeling that he was looking at you in mild shock, too caught out to come up with his usual cocky response. “I -you.. That’s completely..”

You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes at him and then dropping him a wink, “Come get me when you’ve thought of a response, Lori.” You turned and carried on walking through the market.

The two of you had stopped off on a nearby trading planet, to gather supplies. Mando had recently secured a bounty with your help and it had paid well, giving you enough extra credits to stock up and treat yourselves. Grogu was already half-way through a packet of blue macarons, which would no doubt come back to bite you both later when he was pelting through the ship whilst you tried to catch him. And it would be your fault because you had taken one look at those big ears and eyes, determined not to break but when the little womp rat had cooed at you… Of course, he had gotten his own way.

It felt good, to wander a market and not be scrounging for things under the cover of a hooded cloak. You still had one on, you couldn’t bear to part with this item, the most beautiful piece of clothing you had ever had. You just didn’t have the hood up disguising you.

A gift, from Mando.

The first time you went out with him after the puck was destroyed, Mandalorian had insisted you wear yours. However, it had been covered in his blood from his injury, and you couldn’t get it out, no matter how hard you had tried. It hadn’t bothered you that much, though you were.. not sad as such, but it felt a little strange because it had been one of your few possessions for so long. But, maybe it was a symbol. That things had changed, and that was in the past.

A couple of days later, you had just walked into the cockpit when you noticed there was a package on your seat. When you picked it up, it was squishy, bound in a sort of thick papery material and tied with a length of string.

You’d glanced at the Mandalorian, who was watching you, the picture of calm but his hands had been fiddling with something on his belt, a shockingly nervous gesture you weren’t used to.

That simple, uncertain gesture had risen your pulse and you unwrapped the package, trying not to show how your hands were shaking at the first gift you’d received since being a child.

A gift from the Mandalorian.

Pulling away the paper had revealed a mass of fabric, a blue so deep it was almost the same colour as the night sky. You’d lifted it out and it had unfolded and revealed itself to be a new cloak. The material was soft, thick enough to keep out a biting chill. You’d made a noise of awe and surprise, but had immediately fallen in love with it, pulling it on. It fell to about the middle of your calves and secured at the base of your neck with a small silver clasp.

The inside was lined with a thin layer of heat-reflective material, and when you’d run a hand over it, Mando had finally broken his silence, “I noticed you were always cold, even if you had layers on so I.. wanted to make sure you weren’t cold anymore..”

You swore you could almost feel the heat creeping up his neck, and that softened you. He was nervous about giving you this cloak, like he didn’t know how you would take it.

You had smiled at him, a soft smile that made your eyes glitter like the surrounding stars and placed a hand on his knee lightly, “Thank you, Lori. I adore it, I truly do.” Then you’d spent the next minutes admiring it, putting the hood up and realising it shielded your face in shadow.

So, naturally, you had moved around the cockpit and upper level like a phantom, pretending to be a shadow in the night.

You’d even earned yourself a laugh from the great wall of beskar that was fast becoming your friend. It was only a soft chuckle, just picked up by the vocoder, but all the same, it had lit something within you.

It still echoed in your ears now.

A few moments later, the Mandalorian was back at your side, Grogu in his little bag and Duru walking next to him. “The point still stands. I thought I might finally get some silence at night, but you talk just as much.” His raspy voice had a softened edge, one of teasing and you might even have heard the hints of a smile playing at his lips.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, “You love it when I talk. I have to talk to you, otherwise I’d be worried you had turned to stone. You’re so quiet sometimes.” You stopped at a stall, admiring the fabrics here – not to buy, just to look at the different things in a place you had never seen before.

The Mandalorian made a soft noise, “No, sweetheart, that’s just called quiet time. You might want to try it sometime.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but something behind Mando caught your eye. Rising up on tiptoe, you peered over his shoulder… but there was nothing there. Weird. You could have sworn you saw someone wearing a hood just… watching you.

You shrugged, assuming you had imagined it like before and then looked back to the man before you, “I can be quiet. I just choose to fill your hours with my wonderful voice.” You flashed him a grin, eyes dancing.

A voice cut across before Mando could talk to you, “You.” It was a snarl, tinged with recognition that wasn’t exactly the most positive. It was bitter, aggressive and almost… pained.

Mando turned quickly, his hand flying toward the blaster on his hip, instinct overriding him. His movement allowed you to see who had just interrupted the conversation.

A lady stood there, with curly magenta hair twisted up into a braid. She had tattoos along her neck, and her eyes were a shocking green. She was breathing quickly, staring at you with such disdain that it made your neck prickle.

How did you know this woman? You’d never been to this planet before.

You blinked, holding up your hands as a surrender gesture, “Uh… I’m sorry but I don’t know you. I think you must have me confused with someone else…”

The lady shook her head fiercely, making the whisps of her hair that had escaped bounce wildly. “No. I do not have you confused. I would know you anywhere.” Her eyes were wild with fury, pinning you to the ground with just a stare.

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t know who you are. Maybe you could tell me your name?” You extended a hand, trying to diffuse this situation and help the woman understand that you aren’t who she thinks.

She flinched back from your reach, even though she was still a good few feet away. “How dare you. You don’t even know who I am?” She made a noise of disgust, looking you up and down in such a way that you were surprised the skin didn’t flay from your bones, “Typical. I don’t know why I’m surprised. She was probably just another tool to you, wasn’t she? Another person to use and discard like trash.”

You blinked, your hands dropping to your sides. Your skin began to tighten, your blood turning a little frosty. You looked to the side, seeing a few people start to stop and watch this altercation happen.

The Mandalorian seemed to pick up on this at the same time as you. He turned more toward the lady, his hand still within reach of his blaster, “Why don’t we take this somewhere more private?”

The woman barely even looked at him, “Don’t get involved in this, Mandalorian. You’re just as bad as she is. At least to do what you do, you have to have respect and creed. You have morals, no matter how murky they are.” She jabbed a finger at you, “Unlike this savage monster.”

Your breathing immediately shallowed, getting a little unsteady as she spat out that word, that hateful word that followed you around and hounded at your feet. “I’m sorry? For whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry if it’s hurt you. I didn’t mean it, truly-”

She laughed, a cold and cruel laugh, but her eyes were slowly turning glassy with tears. She took a few steps closer, “You don’t even remember her name, do you? Shall I remind you? Help you distinguish her from your kill list?”

You didn’t fail to notice the way the Mandalorian’s stance shifted. His body tightened and he stood closer, shielding you slightly with one of those ridiculously broad shoulders. He was going on the defensive, feeling the situation start to spiral.

The woman barely spared him another glance, “3 years ago, you showed up on Trask. You stumbled around the market for a few days, bleeding from a wound in your leg and you passed out.”

Realisation was beginning to filter through you. It sparked in your mind and you remembered a dark street and rain, your leg heavy and cumbersome beneath you. It had burned like fire and when you went down, you couldn’t get back up again.

The woman was still talking, “Someone picked you up, took you to their home. My sister. She was there for work, and saw you lying in the street, like some kind of dumped animal. She nursed you back to health, gave you somewhere to stay.” She could see it as it began back to you, “You took her aid, her comfort and then, there was a warning put out in the village. There had been a high-risk fugitive spotted in the village. Anyone with information was to come forward immediately.”

Your hands curled into fists, your chest shuddering as guilt and darkness began to swirl within you, “Stop.”

She chose not to hear your quiet plea, “I was supposed to meet her. But she sent me a comms message. She would meet me, but she would have someone else with her. Someone who she couldn’t tell me over a comms message. Someone in trouble. People said this girl was dangerous, to be handed over with no hesitation but she didn’t see that. No, she said this girl was terrified, that she just wanted to live.” She tilted her head, walking closer again, “But the next day, this special little girl was gone. And then the Imperials came.” Her voice shook, her expression unreadable.

You shook your head mutely, not wanting to hear this, memories flooding your brain.

“Someone had tipped them off that my sister was harbouring a fugitive. They tore through her home, destroyed it and dragged her in for questioning. They demanded she tell them, beat her when she denied it. She never gave it up.”

The woman was right in front of the Mandalorian now, who extended his arm out, ‘That’s close enough.”

Nausea roiled your stomach, and you weren’t sure if you were going to pass out or throw up. There were too many eyes on you, too many people watching as this woman revealed you bit by bit.

The woman lowered her voice, deadly soft and it shook, but carried in the silent square, “My sister was murdered because of you. Because of what you are.”

Mando froze, his head tilting back to look at you slightly. You still hadn’t told him.

She wasn’t done. “They told me a few weeks ago that you’d been captured by a Mandalorian. I wept with relief that day, because I knew the Mandalorian wouldn’t fail. You’d be taken to whoever wanted you, and you would finally repent for every single sin you’ve ever committed. Your life is littered with them. My sister, my beloved sister is dead because of you. A killer. A beast. Your hands are stained red, girl, and they will always be stained red. I admit, I’m disappointed that you slithered into his head with your poison too but you will kill him too and then… You deserve everything that will ever come to you. And more.” The woman was breathing almost as quickly as you, her eyes glinting in sick delight at the pain she was causing you.

My sister is dead because of you.

A beast.

Her words mingled with that seductively dark voice in your mind and you gasped for a breath, knives feeling like they were digging into your lungs. Your eyes darted around, noted the strangers looking at you with horror and that shared disgust. A father pushed his daughter behind his legs as he caught your stare, hissing at you.

A flinch ran down your body and without a second thought, you turned tail and bolted. The sunlight was too bright, obscuring your vision harshly and making you stumble every now and then.

You were distantly aware of a male’s shout, then a harsh thumb and the Mandalorian’s voice snarling, “Stay down.” He stopped to check your pursuer was down and then he was running after you. “Hey, wait.”

You ignored him, boots pounding into the dust as you ran through the market, needing to get out of this place, get away from her and the memories. Where the hell was the ship? It was right here a minute ago. I haven’t gone the wrong way. This is the way we came.

You could still hear Mando behind you, knew he was hot on your heels. “Drop it, Mando.” You led him around people and stalls, knowing if wanted to be in front of you, he would be. He was letting you flee, stopping anyone coming after you.

Dodging around a crate of fruit, you almost sobbed. There it was, the Crest, gleaming in the sunlight. You slowed down as you reached it, stopping a little way away to let the ramp come down, let you inside to sanctuary.

Nothing happened.

Bastard.

You took a breath, trying to get past the tightness in your lungs, “Let me in.”

“No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.” His voice was firm, arrogant, in a way like he knew best and you’d listen to him.

~“A killer. A beast. Your hands are stained red.”~

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, staring at the Crest, at where the ramp was tucked in tight. Your heart was pounding, not from the run, but from the realisation that no matter where you went, there would always be someone you had touched with that curse. “No. I’m not telling you anything. I don’t owe you anything.”

He laughed behind you, but it was a cool laugh, nothing humorous in it, “I’m not saying you owe me anything, princess. But some woman just cornered you in the street and spat abuse at you. I thought I would be prying you off of her, not chasing after you.”

A wolf. No. A beast.

You spun round, eyebrow raised, “Because I’m some wild animal that would rather fight than talk my way out of a situation?”

If he had no helmet, you would have seen him blink, “No, I’m not saying that. But, well. You have to admit it, don’t you?”

Something was beginning to prickle up the back of your neck, his words threatening to cut a little close, “Admit what?” Venom laced your tone and you tensed, as if bracing for a punch.

The Mandalorian walked closer, oozing confidence like he somehow knew you better than you knew yourself, “You don’t really think, do you? You never calculate the risks of a fight. You just jump straight in with no regard for your own safety. I mean, when I came for you on Sorgan, anyone smart would have seen a Mandalorian and run.” He wasn’t saying it in an arrogant way, he was saying it as fact. And he was right. A Mandalorian appeared on the street and you turned around and crossed to the other side. You didn’t engage him a fight and flirt with him.

A cold laugh rocked though you and you tilted your head, “Anyone smart? So you’re calling me stupid now? Is that it? Beast or stupid?” You took a few steps closer to him, ignoring the villagers milling around that had started to look, having heard the fight in the centre of the market. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t calculate risks. You think I’ve had time to calculate risks in my life? I don’t have time to sit with my little notepad in my ship and jot down the pro’s and con’s of engaging in battle. I didn’t have the luxury of being trained like you.”

Bitter astonishment filled the Mandalorian’s voice, his own body going rigid, “The luxury of training?! You think I chose to become a Mandalorian? That I woke up one morning and skipped along to Mandalorian school?” His voice rose, the rough rasp turning to stone with every word.

You observed him with a steely gaze, something in you needing to push him away, to protect yourself before he got too close. So, you aimed for what you knew would work, his Creed. Your eyebrows rose, looking him up and down as you leaned your weight on one leg, “You’re telling me you weren’t born with that thing already stuck on your head?” Spiteful sarcasm dripped from your voice and you pointed up at his helmet.

The Mandalorian let out a snarl that no doubt usually sent normal people running. He stalked toward you with predatory grace, a hunter toward his prey. “Don’t you dare.” Like he read in your eyes where you were going with this.

Ugly triumph filtered though you as you stood your ground, not afraid of him, “It’s all the same with you Mandalorians, isn’t it. You have all your training, don your shiny armour and suddenly you’re better than anyone. That helmet goes on, you don’t have to face the consequences of what you’ve done. No one knows who you are, so you don’t need to take the blame.” These words were spiteful, beyond cruel and you hated yourself more and more for each one, but he was starting to get into the cracks, starting to see you. You couldn’t see him die.

Mando was right in front of you now, towering above you with all his broad-shouldered posture, frustration roiling off of him in waves. “You think I don’t feel remorse for what I’ve done?” His voice was so low, barely leashed.

You nearly purred, tasting the promise of a fight, even if it did twist a knife into your heart. “I’ve never seen it.” You tilted your head back to look up at him, letting every ounce of spoilt, cruel brattiness melt into your expression.

A soft growl rumbled through the helmet, so muted you barely heard it in the noises of the market behind him.

Yes. Yes.

And then he relaxed, his shoulders eased and his hands uncurled.

What? No – Disappointment, maybe even shock registered on your expression. You’d been sure, so sure that aiming for his beloved Creed would get him to fight you. Why hadn’t it worked?

Mando shook his head, the sunlight bouncing off of the shiny metal, “No. I’m not doing this with you. You can’t push me away, no matter how hard you try. You don’t mean anything that you just said, I can see it in your eyes.” He pressed a button on his vambrace, and the ramp opened behind you.

He saw you.

That dark beast was starting to awaken, its ears pricking up. You needed to get out of here, away from him, away from this, now. You just shook your head, turning around and walking up the ramp, watching Duru as she ran ahead of you.

Footsteps sounded from behind you as the Mandalorian followed you. He took Grogu from his little pouch, popping him on a cargo crate and Duru immediately jumped up next to him. “Don’t walk away from me. I’m trying to help you, but you keep shutting me out. Why did that woman say those things about you?” His gloved hand enveloped your wrist, his grip not tight or authoritative, but it began to break something in you.

“Let me go, Mando. I mean it.” You let ice creep into your tone, trying to disguise the cracking inside you, the darkness that was beginning to stir and whisper.

And the damn tin can saw it all. Your back was to him, but he still fucking knew, “Please… You know I would never judge you for it, for whatever you did to make her say that.”

Excuse me?

Anger flared through you now, igniting into a blaze and you snarled, “Whatever I did?!” You didn’t give him time to respond, not before you swung around, using his grip on your wrist for leverage. You had spent enough time around him now to become familiar with the plates of his armour, so you knew you aimed correctly when your fist connected with the side of his ribs between the front and back plates.

He grunted, jolting a little but he still didn’t let go. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant-” His voice had softened and, in your rage and hurt, you mistook the pleading tone for a condescending one.

Before he could finish, you punched him again, harder, “Don’t. Don’t try to start spewing excuses at me. I knew perfectly well what you meant. You thought that she had been hurt by me. That I killed her sister with my own hands. Probably slit her throat and bathed in her blood.”

“No, no, I didn’t. If you would just listen to me and stop shouting, please-“

Your foot connected with his shin, making him stumble backwards. You followed after him, “You didn’t even stop to think that maybe, for once, I didn’t actually do anything. But no. Like always, you looked at me and saw the worst. You assumed that I was a monster.” You chopped down at his inner elbow this time, causing him to let go of you in reflex.

Mando tilted his head, his voice coming out sharper this time, “I assumed?” He laughed, the bastard laughed, “What else am I supposed to do, sweetheart? You’ve been on this ship for nearly a month now and I still don’t know anything about you. So yes, I was wrong for assuming, but can you blame me?”

Your eyes flashed and you were on him again, “So it’s my fault that you thought I was a monster? You’d met me for all of two seconds on Sorgan and started whispering in my ear like honey, that death followed me wherever I went. There was a bounty over my head and that’s all you saw.”

Mando went still, his shoulders tightened, and his voice came out lower, “You’re still bringing that up? I told you that you weren’t my bounty anymore.”

Before you could answer him, that velvety voice inside your head started to whisper in your ear, “Oh no, oh my sweet darling. He sees you. The real you. He knows you’re a monster.”

You shook your head sharply, lifted your eyes back to the Mandalorian’s stupid face. Helmet. Visor. Whatever. “I’m not your bounty but you believed that woman. So say it.”

His confusion was palpable, “Say what?”

You took a step forward and your chest butted up against his, “Say it! Say that I’m a monster. A murderer. I kill everything I come near.” You laughed, coldly, the words coming out with your voice but in your head, they were being repeated in that cruel, silken whisper. “You regret it, don’t you? Throwing away my puck. You wish you’d kept it, then you could get rid of me, be free of what I’ve done, why I’m being hunted.” Those steel bands were still wrapped round you, crushing you, swallowing you whole again.

Something broke in him, his composure as the anger rose again and he leaned down to you, “Stop.” The command was a growl and he lifted a finger, pointing at you, “You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

Yes. Yes, fight back, fight me. Tell me what I know I am.

You raised your eyebrows, smirking at his finger and then back up at him but your expression was bitter, “Am I? Why’s that, Mando?” You tilted your head and practically purred, “Tell me.”

The tension in the room was tight, the air almost crackling around you with this outburst of emotion, the threads of your entwined lives pulling taut.

The light bounced off of the plates on his shoulders, betraying his slightly ragged breathing, “You just screamed at me for assuming the worst about you, yet you did just that to me. How can I want to be free of you, when I don’t even know who you are.” He lifted his hands to your shoulders, to try and calm you down, to push you away maybe.

The smirk began to slip from your face, “Does it matter who I am?”

His grip tightened, “Of course it does. Because you’re not a bad person. Let me help you, please. Just tell me something. Anything.” His voice turned pleading, and he lifted a hand from your shoulder, like he was going to cup your cheek.

You’re not a bad person.

Fire blazed within you again, protective and destructive. This was too close. He was getting too close. You had to stop it, now. You had to get away.

You reached up, grabbing his wrist and using the element of surprise to slam him against the wall behind him, pinning his wrist there and then your blade was at his neck, dull light glinting off of it, “Back off. You can’t help me. I’m not some broken doll to add to your ragtag collection.” Your own breathing was ragged, coming in sharp pants as the room started to spin.

The Mandalorian flinched, like you’d hit a nerve and his free hand moved. Bingo.

Yes, you thought, almost begged, Punch me. Fight me, please.

But he didn’t. He just curled his fingers around your wrist and pushed you away, dislodging your knife and knocking you back a few steps. Like you were weak.

You couldn’t do this, he was starting to slip through the cracks that were forming in you. He was looking at you, seeing you. He always had, from the moment you were nothing but hunter and prey, he knew exactly how to get through your intricately woven net of silver-tongued quips and cocky arrogance.

No.

Your voice cracked, echoes of the dark beast’s laughter in your ears “No! Stop pushing me away, stop taking it. Fight me!!” You surged for him again, your hands curling into fists, slamming against the beskar plates again and again.

You didn’t care that it hurt, that it made pain explode across your knuckles.

You liked it, you liked the pain. Deserved that and so much more.

And the Mandalorian… just stood there. He shook his head, just slightly, “No.” He stood there as you hammered your fists against his chest, even when you started to kick him. Just watched as your eyes became glassier, your punches harder but less accurate.

Why wasn’t he fighting you?

Your hazy mind began to overwork, searching for something, anything to provoke him, “Why? You don’t want to fight a girl? Too proud are you?” You slammed your knee into his, pulled at the armour plates, honed your pain and fury into him but he just absorbed it. “You’re as weak as I am, you’re running too. You’re the hypocrite, Mandalorian, not me.” Your words were stilted, made no sense as you spat out words as cruel as you could, just needing to provoke him.

Nothing did. Nothing. There was no noise in the cargo hold but the sounds of the people outside, beeping, the dull thud of your fists, your spiteful words and your own ragged breathing.

And the whispering in your head that had turned into a full-on symphony of bitter taunts and sniping truths. It rose with memories, flashes of your dead parents, the battered bodies of those that had tried to help you, people who had been caught in the cross-hairs of your life. Innocent people that had turned into nothing more than collateral damage.

Blood had started to smear on the beskar, your knuckles splitting open with the repeated impact. You could hear Duru meowing, Grogu gurgling in worry but you didn’t care.

The beast and its army rose, tasting the scent of blood and bringing you visions of the future, of the Mandalorian, dead on the ground. The blood from your fists turned into his own, painting the ground red. Duru, fur soaked in scarlet and Grogu, his tiny little body broken on the floor in a pool.

And above them, you stood, soaked in the blood of these three. Relishing in the pain and torture that you had caused. You could taste their blood.

The room began to spin further, the whispering detonated into a roar and it unleashed a heavy roiling cloud within you. It choked you, squeezed fists around your lungs, clouded your eyes and snuck into your head. It whispered to you, such cruel taunts, sucking out the deepest, most vile thoughts you had about yourself and spat them back out, combined with these visions of the future. It leeched the energy out of you and with a choked sob, your knees gave way.

Duru let out a yowl of concern, springing off of the cargo box.

I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be confident, or strong. I can’t be brave and cocky, I can’t keep throwing myself into every fight, I can’t run anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t-

And then a pair arms caught you.

Mando caught you. He didn’t haul you up against him. He didn’t try and pull you up.

No, he sunk to the floor with you, supporting your weight in his own body, leaning against the wall and letting you collapse against him.

You froze, your body stiffened as he did. This… people didn’t touch you like this. They didn’t put their arms around you unless they were trying to drag you somewhere.

You hadn’t been hugged since you were a child, and yet here you were. The Mandalorian was holding you, but loosely.

Waiting, for your consent. For you to be okay with this.

And as his gloved hand brushed your back, such a tender warmth broke through you, caressed your pain and you couldn’t resist. You sunk into him, the last saps of energy leaving you as tears flooded your cheeks. The armour was hard, digging into you a little bit, but the feeling of just being held was more than enough.

He wrapped his arms around you, coaxing you against his chest. His legs were either side of you, one stretched out on the floor and the other resting up to support your back. Distantly, you were aware of four clawed feet padding over your lap, Duru settling into the space between you and Mando’s arm.

The armour disguised the frantic beating of his heart, your tears and shaking of your body held the trembling of his own hands, but he didn’t mention it. Didn’t mention the fact that this was the first time he had held someone like this that wasn’t the kid… since he was a child himself. He was just as starved of touch as you, even more so because he had no skin-to-skin contact either. He could feel your warmth through the fabric of his clothes that weren’t covered, could feel the weight of you leaning into him.

He didn’t speak, just held you in the dimness of the cargo hold, keeping you together as you fell apart, kept the promise of death away, just as you had done for him.

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #reader insert #star wars #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #grogu

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ithinkthereforeidread · 4 years ago

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the collected poems of todd anderson

christmas day of 1959.

ao3 link here

He knew this day would come. He’s been dreading it, sure, he’d never really enjoyed Christmas much beforehand, his multiple unopened desk sets epitomised such. At his house, fires weren’t warm, hugs were stiff and silence was punctured by the sounds of laughing children in the house next door. It’d always been this way for the Anderson family. Todd grew to accept it.

But this year was supposed to be different.

He was supposed to spend his Christmas at Welton, with all the Dead Poets.

Usually, the boys would go home to their families for Christmas, but through the efforts of Neil he assembled a complex string of falsities about a gargantuan Latin group project that all the Dead Poets needed to finish.

“Serious business, I care about my education father, why else would have you sent me here?” said Neil over the phone, holding his index finger to his mouth to silence Todd from his chuckling, although all Todd really saw was the wide grin that hid behind it, and the way Neil’s eyes crinkled up all the way, a complete oxymoronic action when Neil was usually on the phone to his father. Todd stifles back laughter and Neil smacks him lightly, only causing him to laugh more.

“Well, that was quicker AND easier than I expected...” Neil states after placing the phone back on it’s cradle and ending the call. “But hey!” Neil squeaks, “We’re all spending Christmas together! The biggest concern was just getting my father to agree, everyone else’s parents seemed fine with it.”

Todd and Neil start to walk, side by side, Neil bumps him playfully. “I’m so glad you told me, Todd.” Neil turns his head and looks towards the shorter boy. “My Christmases at home aren’t that great either, I’ve always wanted to spend them here, but I could never work up the courage to ask my father, ask Charlie, in our first year he almost called up my father himself. It was hilarious, he had to look up at the phone, he was so short.”

“You and Charlie have been friends for ages then?” Todd queries “Oh yeah, we met in our last year of preparatory school, he was a pretty mischievous kid, obviously not much has changed.” Neil laughs, “he was just always so confident and sure of himself… I always wanted to be like that, nothing ever got to him.”

“Has that changed?” Todd’s questions were always short and straight to the point. Startling upfrontness in the most unexpected of moments. It was something Todd was known for.

“Not really… I mean, I try to get him to open up… he just isn’t an emotions type of person, I think?” Neil scratches the back of his head. “During our 9th year he went through something really big and not great, but he didn’t tell me a single word about it. To this day I have no idea wahat happened. I tried asking but it didn’t lead anywhere… all I know is some kid had been expelled but it didn’t look like him and Charlie fought or anything because they spent so much time together ....” Neil trails off.

“You know people stare at us sometimes.” Todd blankly states, an unconscious switch being flicked immediately. “When we’re walking to classes, when we go into our dorm, when we exchange smiles in classes… They bump their friends with their shoulders and snicker under their breaths… Have you noticed that Neil?”

Neil’s walking pace slows slightly, “Uh… no, I-uh I didn’t… Do they think we’re-“ “-Maybe.” Todd interrupts before Neil can say The Word. “Bu-but we aren’t, I mean, you were talking about that girl from-“ “-Yeah! Ginny, from the play, wow, I mean, she’s just great.” “Yeah, I’m sure she is.”

God.

This got awkward.

Nice one Todd.

Did it again.

Ink splatters dried on the paper he cradled so delicately, he stares at the contents once more.

“what wouldn't i give to love myself as feverishly as I love you? what is the opposite of amnesia? that is what you are. sometimes i cant find my way around my memories. i have to take detours… i think you were the best one.

little fragments of joy pepper my vacancy i didn't know that i should want to be hopeful or that being hopeful meant giving up some intrinsic part of me.

last night i had a dream that we were breathing underwater flying high in the sky, arms outstretched, laughing, smiling, hugging, bodies pressed onto one another. it didn’t last long. piece by wretched, fragile piece i throw out every hated qualm of thee your impenetrable stare fixed onto me

i have hoped for love that is beyond you being caught by me or me trying to slip through the cracks. they read me, you, us, with their glacial eyes and think they know but they don't

and it seems neither do we.”

“Wow, Todd. This is so… different. But good! It’s just, I’ve never seen anything like this in our English class, in the poems we’ve studied… I just… wow.” Neil looks up at Todd, eyes so soft, Neil knows how big of a deal this is to Todd. He doesn’t just share his work with anyone.

“I-I’m glad you liked it.” Todd smiles, it’s almost as if he’s had to completely remove himself from himself in order to let Neil observe and compliment this part of him, he takes the page out of Neil’s hands and places it in his book. “What-er, who was it about?” Neil gingerly queries. “I- uh, well.” Todd’s heating up now, he should’ve expected Neil to ask him this question. Dammit. Why was he so stupid for letting him read it. “Well, I-I don’t think you necessarily have to go through something to write a-about it, it-it’s fiction for a reason.”

Neil’s lips downturn slightly, “I guess, but everything that we produce in art- whether that be acting, or poetry writing, painting- whatever… it… subconsciously shows something that you might not necessarily want to show or see, right? Like how Keating got us the other day to choose a poem we liked and recite it… It tells you so much about a person. When Charlie was reading his poem… wasn't all you could think about was how bleak it was?” Neil continues, “The academically and poetically rigorous selection made by Cameron or Knox’s complete devotion and enamoration with the simplest emotion of the human being, love? We hide these parts of ourselves, maybe we view them as flaws and faults of our cognitive machine, but art reveals them all.” Neil delivered a love poem to the class himself. He takes a big breath and lets the words he just spoke sit in the air of their dorm for a while.

“Into the meadows dawn..” Todd clicks his fingers, a vague ritual to jog his memory. “flashes my faun.” Todd recites “O Hunter, snare me his shadow… O Nightingale catch me his strain. Else moonstruck with music and madness, I track him in vain” all they’re doing is staring at each other.

“You- you remembered my poem?” Neil questions. “Yeah- I went to the library after you said it- wanted to see if there was more… Oscar Wilde…” “Yeah.” “I notice them staring now that you mentioned it.” Neil breaks the trajectory of the conversation, “God, they’re all so stupid, it’s as if Judy Garland and President Eisenhower just strutted into the school, arms interlocked!” Todd chuckles. Then more silence.

“Has anything changed, Neil?” “What do you mean?” “Between us. What this is. Our comradely bond, as Keating puts it.” Todd chuckles, “ Our co-dependence, attachment at the hip.”

More silence…

“I-I think…” Neil finally states, “that it was never anything it wasn’t already… perhaps we ignored it, suppressed the feeling… but… it was always there.”

“For me, at least.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

~~~

The wind pierced Todd’s skin in tiny microscopic ways, embedding itself under the protection of his coat and completely evading the rest of his physical form, though perhaps the wind wasn’t the cause of the spine-curdling ache he felt, but simply an additional symptom.

Bells rang, green and red Christmas themed paraphernalia adorned the streets he’d previously been driving through, staring out the window at lights and snow that trickled onto an already naturally bleached layer of the ground. His footprints leave indents and obtain a slippery consistency to the outer sole and toe cap. He treads more carefully.

His hands clutch the leather cover of the journal he is hiding underneath his jacket, minimising any further damage that may soon come its way, finally, through minutes of soul-searching and carefully treading through stones and flowers, he makes his way to Neil.

He looks at him with a certain sense of fragility, his stone head protruding from the ground and covered in snow. Todd wipes some away to see the carvings made into him. His full name. Aged 17. Dutiful son of Tom and Susan Perry.

The newness of it all sends a pang to Todd’s stomach as he looks at the other stones weathered with age and the constant bombardment of the elements. That’ll be Neil one day. Flowers not fresh and carvings unreadable. Forgotten to the world and all its inhabitants, rotting in satin lining and cherry oak wood. Todd stifles back a sob and covers his mouth, forcing himself to get it together for just this moment.

“Merry Christmas Neil.” Todd whispers, the words can barely come out. “You-you’re not here physically but you’re here with me, and Charlie, and-and all the other Dead Poets.” he continues, “though- though Charlie isn’t here technically either. He left. Had to. He’s not graduating, at least he’s not at Welton” Todd looks down, brushes his emerging tears away with his shoulder

“I just wanted to come here and give you your gift, I’ve had it in the making for a while now, you’ve seen some of it already. I wish I could’ve given it to you earlier… if I had known this would happen.” he pulls out the journal, and opens it up.

“Here, I’ll read you some.” Todd, though already cold and miserable, situates himself next to Neil’s cold headstone and leans his head on it, opening the journal's contents to its first page.

“Dear Neil,” Todd’s starts, but adds an offside, “It’s dated on the 7th of a while back, my-my birthday.”

“I hope this book finds you well,” Todd’s breath hitches, “especially considering that I’m probably too anxious to deliver it to you. What you’ll see here is what we spoke about the night we first kissed. About freeing ourselves from any subconscious fear or dichotomous dread of both working with and against the grain or being liked or disliked. The people I look up to the most are inspirationally unpopular. So, here’s a suite of poems by yours truly. Hopefully you’ll find your own meaning and reverence in the words my brain has conjured up, words mostly pertaining to you. Every inch of your being alive has me transfixed and enamoured, and I’m truly gobsmacked on the good deed I must’ve committed to have deserved having you in my life.” Todd’s face is red and stuffy from the cold and his breathing is short and punctured.

“You’re sleeping right near me at this moment, and as a sweaty toothed madman once said. We were together. I forgot the rest. Consider this journal a detachable limb of my own self, something you can always carry around and know that I am with you, always. You can suck the life force, the bone marrow out of the words I have written in here and I would applaud and encourage you to do so. Without you, I have no idea where I’d be right now. I owe you so much Neil, you’ve taught me that sometimes the world can be good. That a person’s smile can brighten an entire room. A performance perfectly acted can be a person’s ultimate achievement and their triumph. You are the word phenomenal incarnate Neil, I hope my words do you some sort of justice.

You deserve the world, Neil. I’m brainstorming ways to give it to you.

With love, Todd.”

——————————————————————————

i hope you guys enjoyed!! its fucking brutal honestly but needed some angst and tragedy in my fictional life to reflect my own.

just a preface that some of the poem todd read's is borrowed from pete wentz old emo livejournal posts because i need to somehow tie my two big interests together and MAN does that man write some gay ass shit. hope your heart doesnt hurt too much <3

creds to @neilscrown on tiktok for posting the headcanon "Todd definitely bought Neil a Christmas present and he never got the chance to give it to him so he would sit in his once shared room and stare at it" it tore my HEART OUT and inspired this rambling

#dead poets society #dead poets #dead poets honour #dead poets fanfiction #anderperry #anderperry fanfic #todd anderson #neil perry #todd and neil

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justfangirlthingies · 4 years ago

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Treat You Better (Draco Malfoy) (Theodore Nott)

This is part 1 of a 2-part-series called "Moving on with(out) you" This part is a songfic about "Treat You Better" by Shawn Mendes

This plays roughly at the middle/end of year 5 and is written in Draco's pov.

It's mostly a Draco x reader, seeing as Theo barely appears in the story, but don't you worry, there'll be a part 2 written from Theo's perspective.

Summary: yes this is the first time I'm actually writing a summary. I might add it from now on, not sure yet. Draco watches as (Y/n), his best friend and longtime crush, progressively becomes more and more miserable in their relationship and decides to help them out of it.

Warnings: angst?, relationship struggles,

Word count: 1942 words

"I'm so sorry I didn't mean to run into yo-" I was about to let whoever just ran into me hear a piece of my mind, but just as I was about to speak, I heard it. Your voice. The voice which always caused my face to soften, but only for you. It made me look down a little only to find a pair of brilliant (e/c) eyes. (Y/n) (L/n)'s eyes to be exact. Your eyes. "Malfoy" You grinned and pulled me into a side hug, causing me to smile as well. Until I saw your hands intertwined with his, that is. "(L/n)" I greeted back with just as much enthusiasm. I paused as I looked at Theodore Nott. Your boyfriend. Someone who was somewhat a friend of mine, he was not involved in my friend group, much like Blaise and Daphne. "Nott" my voice came out less cheerful and he nodded his head in a way of greeting me back.

You whispered something to the other Slytherin boy. What you said exactly, my ears couldn't pick up on. However, judging by the way he let go of your hand and continued on his way to wherever he spent his lunch break, it had to be something like "Go ahead I'll see you later." It was then, that I took in your form, the way your eyes lit up, but dulled as soon as your boyfriend had left without even giving you a kiss to the cheek or saying so much as a goodbye to you. You always looked drained and tired when you were with him, but I've never seen you look as miserable as the past couple of weeks. "So...Draco." You flashed me your sweetest smile "how are you?"

"Quite alright, what about you?" I returned your question, making some small talk. What I didn't expect you to do though, was to sigh and lean against one of the castle's cool walls "I'm alright."

"Now that is a blatant lie (Y/n). Spill it. What's going on?" I already knew where the conversation was heading and it hurt me to see you like this. After all, I would never make you feel so miserable and with everything I've heard before, what you were about to tell me next was the final straw. "He-he" your lip quivered "Can we go somewhere more private? I don't want to have this conversation in the middle of some hallway." "Of course." I felt the small smile form on my lips as I grabbed your hand and took you to our spot.

▪︎

Once you got comfortable on the rug, which decorated the floor in our usual meetup spot, you spoke up again "He's doing it again. We have so many arguments and-" A shaky breath escaped your lips as I sat down next to you. I'm sure my cheeks would've turned a light shade of red at the way you buried your head in my chest had the circumstances been different. I tried to soothe you as I felt your tears staining my uniform "shh.." The sharp breath you inhaled did not go unnoticed by me "I just- I don't know, Theo is great. He's all I ever wanted, we-we're just going through a rough patch at the moment" After hearing this statement, I pulled you from my chest gently, my hands gripping the fabric that covered your shoulders "(Y/n)" I sighed "the two of you are ALWAYS going through a rough patch." You shook your head in disbelief, your (h/l), (h/c) hair swaying from side to side (if you don't have hair just ignore that part). What? Did you think I'd lie to you and tell you what you want to hear, instead of what you need to hear? Now, that would be stupid of you and I know you are many things, but stupid is not one of them, and maybe someday I'd even get to tell you all the things you are. But for now they'd have to stay in my head. "But- but it's going to get better eventually, right? I love him" my heart ached when you said that, but you didn't sound sincere, it sounded more like a question than a statement. "Draco please say something. Theo and I will get through this and be fine again, right? This will all change for the better. I-" You stopped yourself "We just need to get through it together and hold on tight. Sometimes it feels so unbearable, but that's normal. A relationship never comes without a challenge, right?" Your pupils were moving frantically as you searched my eyes.

A sigh left my lips and I moved one hand to your face to brush away your stray tears "I won't lie to you"

"Thank you. I know you'd never lie to me" a small, hopeful smile appeared on your lips. "But that doesn't mean you'll like the truth" I briefly flicked my eyes downward, before meeting your (e/c) ones again "I know he's just not right for you." "DRACO-" you wanted to cut me off, but I wouldn't let you. Not this time. "And you can tell me if I'm off, but I see it on your face" Your tears returned as you stuttered out "see what?"

"I see it, when you say that he's the one that you want" You shook your head in disbelief at my tone of voice. "Theo-Theo is the one that I want." The crack of your voice sent a pain searing through my chest. "(Y/n) please listen to me, you've told me times and times again how he acts around you. How badly he treats you-" This time, you did manage to cut me off "He's just going through a hard time and needs more time for himself. The day will come where he's back to normal. Back to the Theo I fell in love with."

"He's not the Theo you fell in love with anymore, he's changed and grown up and you know it. Besides, even if it does get better, then what?" I felt a scowl make its way onto my features "Who's to say it's not going to happen again? For Salazar's sake (L/n). Nott's draining you completely, he neglects you, he insults you and look at you now. That-that bright smile of yours is completely wiped off your face. You look tired. Don't think I wouldn't notice my dearest friend hurting like that. You know I'm right, that he's not the one for you and that you're spending all your time in this wrong situation and anytime you want it to stop"

"Draco, stop it. Please" I inhaled and exhaled deeply, it was now or never. "I know I can treat you better than he can" The surprised expression suited you, but then again, you always looked beautiful in any situation. Even with those tears cascading down your cheeks, I'd much prefered a smile on your face though. "And any girl like you deserves a gentleman" You didn't seem too opposed to the idea. Of course you weren't, not with the way you always held me close and the sheepish smile that graced your lips when you realized just how close we always were. Yet, that didn't stop my hands from shaking or the nervous sweat I felt, covering my body in a thin layer. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and did my best to continue. I wasn't brave like a Gryffindor, but I was ambitious and I was also determined to show you what you really deserved. "Tell me why are we wasting time on all your wasted crying, when you should be with me instead?" Was that a smile I just saw? It sure did look like one. "I know I can treat you better. Better than he can."

"You don't have to do this just to make me feel better" With that, your smile turned to a sad one again. "I'm not pitying you. I'd do anything for you. To see you happy and energetic again. I'll stop time for you the second you say you'd like me to" My fingers gently cradled your tear stained face, as I flashed you a soft smile. Maybe it wasn't my brightest idea to confess when you were still with someone else, but what else was I supposed to do? Leave you trapped in a relationship that is becoming more toxic day by day? No. "I just wanna give you the loving that you're missing. Baby, just to wake up with you, would be everything I need and this could be so different. Tell me what you want to do." My heart fluttered when you put your hand over mine. Over the one which was holding your face. And oh Merlin, that gorgeous grin of yours. "I- I didn't know that's how you felt. I have to think about this Draco. I'm in a relationship still"

"In a toxic, emotionally abusive one" I chimed in. "A relationship nonetheless" you retorted immediately. "Yes. But you feel miserable with him. You should finally end it. Once and for all. 'Cause I know I can treat you better than he can. And any girl like you deserves a gentleman." "It's not that easy. I-" You sighed, but it seemed to me, that you were out of arguments. "Tell me why are we wasting time, on all your wasted crying, when you should be with me instead? I know I can treat you better. Better than he can. Better than he can"

I decided to give you some time to think.

After what felt like hours, I dared to speak up again "(Y/n), please give me a sign." And just like that, you were in my arms, head buried in my chest again, leaving me to press soft kisses to the top of your head to soothe you. "Take my hand, we'll be fine. Promise I won't let you down" To my surprise I felt your hand make contact with mine and cling onto it tightly. Your whole body was wracking with your painful sounding sobs as I heard them slowly turn to sharp inhales. With my free hand, I caressed your back and the back of your head "Just know that you don't have to do this alone." The sound of your sniffles was what I heard, before you shuffled around in my arms, your gaze lifting to meet mine. "Really? You mean it. You'll help me and be there for me?" "When have I ever not been there for you? I Promise I'll never let you down. And do you wanna know why? 'Cause I know I can treat you better than he can and any girl like you deserves a gentleman. So, darling tell me why are we wasting time on all your wasted crying? When you should be with me instead? I know I can treat you better-" you smiled when you cut me off, a genuine smile on your lips. "Better than he can?" You asked and I noticed your voice had a playful tone to it "Better than he can" I tried to reassure you. I'd give everything for you, but what if I turned out to be like my father or if I hurt you just like Theodore Nott did?

But when I felt you lips brush over my own, your arms wrapped around the back of my neck as I held you close, I realized. That now it was you who was reassuring me. "Better than he can." You breathed against my lips, before you pulled me into a kiss.

Taglist: @paulina1998 @ateez-star @littlemissnoname13 @gwlvr @dracomalfoys-wh0re

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mangozcat · 4 years ago

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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. lee taeyong x fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. some fluff, smut 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. taeyong always adored the flavors of winter. he loved the smooth hot chocolate, the strong taste of whiskey that he often celebrated with, and munching a cookie between his teeth. when you join him for christmas, he finds yet another thing to add onto his list of favorite flavors.

"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖, 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑, 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃." taeyong said, disappointment evident in his tone as his eyes skimmed over the christmas movies and dollar store bag in your hands, and your obviously very much not naked body.

you shook your head, lifting a hand to slap the side of his head gently. “not everything has to do with sex, buddy,” you declared, grinning to yourself as you pushed the bag of hot chocolate mix, whiskey, and cookies into his hands. “I came over because I wanted to spend my christmas with you, babe.”

he peeked inside the bag, smiling at the goods, before looking towards you. his hair was messy, hanging just above his eyes, and you wondered how it didn’t bother him yet. “yes, and I always wanna spend my days and holidays with you, but I had a particular idea in mind for this one in specific.”

“save it for valentine’s day.”

he shrugged, accepting defeat. it didn’t feel as bad as it would typically would, especially when he glanced back at the bag of his favorite sweets. cookies because he always enjoyed the simplistic treat on special occasions, and just in general. whiskey because while taeyong liked the sober life, he wasn’t too good at denying how incredible the free feeling made him feel. and finally, hot chocolate. not much explanation needed.

you always did know him best. and by how happy he looked, you knew it all too well. you took pride in understanding the layered man, and you were extremely pleased to be able to call him your boyfriend.

as taeyong wandered into the kitchen to make the hot chocolate, you took the cookies and whiskey out of the bag, placing them on the table. losing your heavy coat somewhere along the way, you managed to tie your hair up as you found several blankets and pillows scattered around taeyong’s apartment.

“hot chocolate’s so good,” you heard him call from the kitchen.

“don’t drink it right now, dumbass!” you yelled, sighing loudly. you had wanted the man to drink it with you while the two of you watched home alone. it wasn’t long before you heard taeyong’s voice call back to you, “sorry! couldn’t help myself.”

“you never can,” you mumbled under your breath, pulling away from the couch to admire your handiwork. it wasn’t fancy at all, but it looked extremely comfortable and you could imagine yourself falling asleep in taeyong’s arms, surrounded by fluffy blankets.

suddenly, you felt arms wrap around your torso and you grinned to yourself as a kiss was placed on your shoulder. two glasses of hot chocolate were in his hands and he lifted one up to you, allowing you to grab it and take a sip of the steamy drink. “perfect,” you said, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

taeyong smiled cheekily, “I know I am, babe, but I want a compliment on the hot chocolate I spent so long making.”

you only shook your head, a small smile dancing across your lips. he truly was a unique guy, and as obnoxious as he could be sometimes, you couldn’t deny that you wouldn’t trade it for anything. “well, my dear perfect boyfriend, how about you make some food while I shower?”

his face scrunched up, “I’ll pass, thank you very much.”

you only rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink. “figured as much,” you sighed out, walking towards the bathroom to take a nice warm shower before snuggling into the covers and getting lost in a movie. prancing around in all the snow beyond taeyong’s door had left you mildly freezing and you were ready to wash it all away with a layer of warmth.

and of course, the sweet smell of taeyong’s body wash.

the first thing you saw when you came out of the shower was light. green and red and blue and gold adorned the walls as you stared in awe at the string of fairy lights hung (although messily and rushed) dashingly across the wall. they were all so pretty, and made the room feel so cozy.

your eyes then found your boyfriend, shooting him a curious look as you pointed towards the lights. he only smiled shyly, biting on his lower lip as a small dash of red made it’s way upon his cheeks.

“I saw them at the store,” he said, eyes flitting between you and the lights. “when I was shopping for your present I saw them and figured they’d make the place more homely.”

you only smiled fondly.

he scratched at the back of his neck, saying, “I know they aren’t exactly christmas colored but they’ll have to do. do you like them?”

nodding your head, you walked towards your boyfriend, arms wide open to signal a bear hug before he met you half way. “they’re perfect,” you whispered into his shirt. he gave the top of your head a gentle kiss, rocking the two of you back and forth unknowingly.

leaning your head up, you connected your lips to his in a small, affectionate kiss, before pulling away and flopping down onto the couch. you grinned and patted the space next to you, making him crawl over top of you. resting his head on your chest, and setting his body between your legs, he turned his head to see the tv as you started the movie. your fingers started threading through his hair, making him hum in delight at the soft feeling.

he closed his eyes as the movie began playing, and you had almost believed he was asleep. that is, until his hand traces circles on the skin of your thighs, which were covered by a pair of his sweatpants. if you were any other girl, you’d think he was simply being overly affectionate and comforting. but you were taeyong’s girlfriend, you knew better.

taeyong was sweet, caring, everything. one thing he wasn’t, however, was more clingy than any other boyfriend. he’d touch your hips, your arms, your hands, but he never touched your nether region unless he wanted something. he never felt the need to.

so when his fingers poked at the hem of your pants, you sighed heavily, pretending you didn’t notice his movements while continuing to watch the movie. but taeyong had different plans. his arms wrapped around your stomach, forcing you to arch gently as he planted a small kiss on your shoulder. and then your collarbone, and then he was hiking up your shirt to place a kiss right above your breasts.

he wanted your attention.

and this time you were determined to not give in. he only narrowed his eyes when he glanced up at you, noticing how your gave wasn’t on him. he huffed out a growl before sucking harshly on the skin between your breasts. you didn’t have a bra on, he had noticed; probably because you were lounging in the comfort of your boyfriend’s apartment, he guessed.

you let out a little gasp at the feeling. it hurt, feeling his teeth scrape over the blossoming bruise, but at the same time, it felt so good. you finally closed your eyes at the sensation, deciding to give in, and buried your hands in his hair and giving the strands a soft tug.

“there’s my baby,” he said, a smirk gracing his features.

you simply let out a small whine as he continued to kiss down your stomach. the feeling was so soft, so gently, so sweet, so sickeningly good that it had your insides churning with desire. he was taking his time, making sure to praise your body along his journey down. the man was on a mission; leave no piece of skin untouched, unloved, and he was surely fulfilling it.

when you couldn’t handle the slowness anymore, you whined out his name. he simply looked up at you through his lashes, feigning innocence in his gaze. taking your sweatpants strings in his teeth, he tugged on the fabric slightly. “what do you want, angel?”

“y-your tongue, your fingers-” you stumbled out carelessly. he smiled to himself, happily listening to your moans of frustration as he tugged your pants, along with your underwear, down your legs. “f-fuck, just- ah! -just want you, baby!”

the cold breeze hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. taeyong didn’t seem bothered, simply pressing a kiss just on your clit, making you keen out at the feeling. he knew what you wanted, you knew what you wanted, but he was so intent on making you wait to receive it.

it only took a few helpless moans and begs out of pure lust to make him finally give you what you desired; his fingers. moving one in and out of you swiftly, he started a bruising pace that left you breathless with it’s intensity. you cried out his name several times, making taeyong smile as he watched his fingers get sucked into your eager heat.

“does my baby like this?” he asked, adding a second finger in and halting to hear your strained moans, “does she like it when I fuck her with my fingers? your cunt’s just swallowing my fingers up, baby.”

you whimpered a yes in response, making taeyong hum to himself in satisfaction. curling his fingers inside of you, you cried out when you felt his fingertips brush against that spot inside of you. your toes curled at the sensation and you tugged a little harder on his hair.

finally, as if taeyong couldn’t hold back any longer, he attached his lips to your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud. “fuck,” you muttered breathlessly, pulling him as close as possible as your hips started buckling up into his face. he groaned out, licking a stripe of your wetness from your slit.

his fingers were still in you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“are you going to cum?” he asked against your bundle of nerves, making you whine at the vibrations. he glanced up at you, admiring the fucked out look on your face and loving how his name slipped from your lips on occasion. he knew you were close, just by how erratically you were clenching around his fingers.

“go ahead, baby,” he said, pulling back to give your clit yet another kiss as his fingers continuously curled inside of you to give you that one last burst of pleasure. you were seeing white, crying out when you finally were pushed over the edge.

“cum around my fingers, sweetheart.”

part of the christmas chronicles series! you can find it here.

#taeyong #taeyong smut #lee taeyong #nct 127 #lee taeyong smut #taeyong fluff #nct 127 smut #nct #too lazy to write more #haha

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firstofficerwiggles · 5 years ago

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Dress Code, Part 2

Link to Part 1, Part 3 (T rated), Part 3 (M rated)

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Some swearing, Jealous!Din, sexy dancing, touching

Summary: You continue to challenge Din about what you choose to wear. Pretty fluffy overall. Plans for a Part 3.

Word Count: ~4200

Author’s Note: I am not good at making up planet names so I will admit to totally stealing these. Eridani is the name of a real star and Alastria and Chantil are both from Star Trek. Also again a little hint of Ed Sheeran in the dancing scene.

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

“Are you serious? More snow?” Your voice is incredulous as you fly over the frosted winter landscape of the planet Alastria. It’s been two weeks since you won your wager against the Mandalorian and you haven’t had any opportunity to wear anything that he could consider even remotely revealing. First he took you to Hoth, and although you and the child had a great time playing in the snow, you spent the whole time covered in sweaters and a giant parka. You had laughed it off though, enjoying his cleverness at finding a way to circumvent your win. But then, he had dragged you to Eridani and Chantil each one colder than the next. Plus to add to his diabolical plan, he has purposely been keeping the Razor Crest’s internal temperature low in order to ‘save on fuel’ so you can’t even wear your lighter clothes on board. You’ve been so covered up you might as well be wearing your own suit of beskar.

You suppose it hasn’t been all that bad though, you begrudgingly admit to yourself. The three of you have been spending more time together as you’ve been traveling. Lately it seems like Din always finds a way to be around you and the child. In the past he’s preferred his pilot’s seat while flying even with the autopilot engaged, but now he seems to find little projects to do wherever you are. Like the evening you were cuddled up with the baby telling him various fairy tales and Din had sat near you both spending the whole time cleaning the same blaster. Or when you were baking cookies, and he had decided to reorganize some supplies that happened to be right next to where you were working. Finally, the other day he had even thrown off the pretense of being busy and joined in and helped you and the child build a blanket fort in the hull. As the baby napped on a pile of pillows inside the fort, Din had stayed with you in there, just resting for once while you both had the chance.

With all of this closeness, you had hoped there might be some movement on the romantic front between the two of you, but there hasn’t been anything definitive in that area. You must have replayed him calling you ‘sweetheart’ a million times in your head, but he hasn’t said anything like that again. You’ve tried to show him how interested you are, wearing your necklace everyday so he can see it, smiling at him as much as possible, teasing him, and going so far as to touch him with little brushes of your hand, a pat on the shoulder, or even a squeeze of his arm whenever you get the opportunity. He seems receptive enough to your flirting, yet he’s given you so little response you wonder if he’s realized what you’re trying to do.

The Mandalorian’s voice brings you out of your musing, “I thought we could visit my old mentor, Davi. His town might be in the mountains, but it’s nice, I think you’ll like it, despite the cold.” He smirks a little under his helmet. He knows he should probably feel a bit guilty at the tour of icy worlds he’s been giving you, but honestly, he’s been enjoying getting under your skin each time you land on another freezing planet and he hears you sigh over having to bundle up again. He should probably admit to himself that he does miss seeing your dresses, but you look cute even under all those layers. Plus he was right, your necklace looks good with all of those sweaters and heavy knits you’ve been forced to wear.

“Who is Davi?” you ask, curious to know more about Din’s past.

“He sponsored me when I first joined the guild. I was his apprentice for two years before I starting hunting my own bounties.” Din tells you. “He’s retired now, and he lives with his niece, Isa. I think you’ll like them both.”

Even with the snow and ice, you can see that Davi and Isa’s town is charming, and you enjoy the quaint buildings with their pretty trim. It reminds you of the gingerbread houses you used to make as a child in the winter. The majestic mountains make for a stunning backdrop too and you are glad that Din brought you here. He notices the happy light in your eyes as he says, “I knew you’d like it here,” rather smugly.

“Yes, yes, you know everything,” you reply, rolling your eyes only slightly at him.

You arrive at a brightly lit home that oozes warmth and coziness from its frosty windows, and when Davi throws open the door, you receive a cordial welcome that makes you feel like he is your old friend too. Davi is thrilled to see Din and even more delighted to meet you and the baby. Even though Din has introduced you as his friend, Davi teases the Mandalorian about finally meeting his lovely family. Davi’s niece, Isa is also quite pleased to meet you and she even hugs you in greeting. She’s a pretty young woman in her early 20s with bright eyes and a cheerful smile.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she tells you excitedly, “I thought I was in for another ‘guy’s visit’ having to hear all of their old hunting tales again.”

“Oh come on, Isa, you love that story about the crazy Gungan we had to chase through the swamp,” Davi reminds her with a laugh.

“Sure, maybe the first 100 times I heard it,” Isa retorts. “I’m looking forward to some quality girl time instead.”

“That sounds great,” you tell her. You have been living in a heavily testosterone-laden climate and it has been forever since you’ve had the opportunity to hang out with another woman and just do ‘girl’ things. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’d love to go shopping and maybe get our hair styled too?” She suggests, “There’s this great party tonight and I wanna look fabulous!”

“Count me in!” you reply enthusiastically. You look over at Din for a moment though, hoping he’s not going to insist that he needs to accompany you shopping like he usually does. But he’s obviously comfortable here and he just gives you a small nod. “Let’s go now.”

Isa notices your exchange with interest, but doesn’t say anything, yet. She can’t wait to get you alone though and grill you all about your relationship with the mysterious warrior. You head back out into the snowy streets with Isa chatting excitedly about the shops and the fantastic salon that she’ll be taking you to. You arrive at a store with many party dresses, they’re beautiful but most of them are a bit risqué too. You’re just starting to look when Isa interrupts you with “Ok, spill, I want to hear all about you and Mando.”

“There’s not much to tell, I’m the nanny to his foundling.” You try to tell her, but your cheeks flush and she knows there’s more.

“Oh c’mon, I can tell you’re not ‘just-the-nanny’,” she laughs lightly. “He’s never ever brought a woman to meet Davi before.”

“Well, a few weeks ago I thought there was more starting to happen between the two of us,” you say and then tell her about the necklace and your silly wager. “I really thought that was leading to something…” you trail off and shrug, “but I guess not?”

“What?!? There is definitely something happening,” Isa asserts. “That was super romantic of him to buy you that necklace, and he clearly gets jealous of other men paying attention to you. He likes you.” She says it like it’s a fact. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Maker, I do, so much, probably too much,” you admit to Isa. “He’s the best man I’ve ever known. I know he seems rough and dangerous, and he can be, but he is also very kind, respectful, and considerate. You should see how gentle and soft he can be with the child. I don’t even care that I’ve never seen his face.”

“Your whole face lights up when you talk about him,” Isa is beaming at you. “I think you need to tell him how much you care.”

“But if he doesn’t feel the same way, it will just make everything awkward and weird.” You want to believe Isa, that Mando reciprocates your feelings, but the alternative scares you too much.

“He feels the same way.” She is confident about that. “But, maybe you could just give him a little push, feel him out more,” she says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What are you suggesting?”

“Let’s find you a killer dress and make sure he takes you to this party tonight.” Isa turns back to the dresses pulling out several that are very sexy. “It’s in the hot springs caverns and it’s warm and steamy in there all the time,” Isa explains.

“Wait, so no bundling up?” you ask hopefully.

“Just for the walk there, but once we’re inside you’ll be plenty warm. So, we’re going find you something that shows plenty of skin,” Isa declares.

Gathering a pile of garments, Isa pulls you to the dressing rooms and then you both try on several looks that range from seductive to downright lascivious. She is partial to an electric blue dress that is tight on her figure and has several cutouts exposing various sections of her skin. The dress you find is surprise, surprise, silver, in a halter style. The bodice is tight fitting with a deep vee that ends just at the top of your stomach before flaring out into a flirty mini skirt looking like molten metal is pouring off of your hips. Your back is almost totally bare save for two delicate straps that cross over one another to hold the bodice in place. It is a lot more skin than you normally show, but you have to admit you look great. Light winks off of your necklace and you smile to yourself thinking about how your Mandalorian might react to seeing you like this.

“That’s the one!” Isa announces handing you a pair of strappy stilettos to try on with the dress. They are the perfect final touch. The rest of your time with Isa passes quickly in a happy haze of hair styling and gossip. She tells you about her friends and the guy she wants to impress. You’re really looking forward to tonight, but you’re worried, “How are we going to convince Mando to go to this party?” you wonder to Isa, “It’s not really his thing.”

“Leave everything to me.” Isa sounds like she is up for the challenge.

You and Isa return to her home giggling cheerfully about your big plans for the evening. Din loves seeing you so happy, his only regret is that you can’t have more days like this one. He had a long talk with Davi about all that has happened since he first found the child and the dangerous path it has thrust all three of you on. Fortunately for Din, his old mentor is more tactful than his niece merely providing a friendly ear as Din lists all of his concerns for your life with him. Davi can tell that Din cares for you more than he is admitting, but he doesn’t push the point. Instead, he calmly suggests that you appear to be able to meet the trials of living with a bounty hunter, otherwise you probably would have left by now. Din nodded in agreement to that, making Davi smile knowingly to himself.

As you sit down to dinner with everyone, Isa chats animatedly about your fun day together and suggests that you prolong your visit by a few days. Din, who ate his own meal in private beforehand, seems amenable to the idea, this town is fairly remote and only Greef Karga remembers Mando’s connection to Davi. As Isa talks, she manages to casually bring up the party to her uncle. Din is only half-listening as he is focused on the baby actually eating his food and not playing with it, until Isa says, “And you don’t have to worry about our safety, Uncle, because Mando will be there to watch over us!”

“Wait, what are you saying?” Din’s head snaps up.

“I think it’s a great idea!” Davi replies, delighted, “The ladies are all excited for you to take them to that party in the caverns tonight.”

“A party?” Din sounds like you are going to drag him to a deadly ambush. Except he feels more confident that he can handle the deadly ambush.

“Oh come on, you’re still a young man, you’ll have a wonderful time with these beautiful women. And I can take care of the little one,” Davi urges him, “after all he loves his Uncle Davi.” Davi tickles the child under the chin and receives a joyful coo in return.

“Please, Mando,” you give him your most hopeful look, “I promise we’ll have fun.”

Din sighs, but he knows he can’t say no when you’re looking at him like that, he’s not made of stone. “Alright.”

“Great! We’ll go get dressed!” Isa springs into action pulling you with her. You both manage to get ready in record time knowing that you don’t want to give Din any opportunity to back out on your plans. Before you leave her room though, both you and Isa make sure your cloaks are completely covering your outfits for the night. You caution Isa that if Din has even one inkling of what you have on, you won’t be going anywhere. You are thankful your cloak is so long that only the toes of your shoes peek out.

Isa leads you out of town towards the caverns and you see other young people heading in your direction. She discreetly stays ahead of you and Din the whole time under the guise of being the leader but mostly so you two are walking side by side. The new shoes are higher than anything you’ve worn for a while so you lean in and take Din’s arm. He seems to take this as perfectly natural and helps steady you on your feet. When you arrive at the caverns, balmy air hits you and you breathe it in welcoming the warmth. Isa ushers you in and leads you to a place where you can leave your cloaks. You can’t resist being a bit dramatic now that your big moment is here and you let your cloak drop from your shoulders in one fluid motion before handing it over. Then you do a small twirl to let the Mandalorian get a good look at you.

Din’s mouth goes completely dry and he feels like his heart skips several beats as he takes you in. He is thankful that his helmet hides his expression because there is no way he could hide the raw desire he is feeling right now. You look more gorgeous than he could have imagined. The silvery dress makes your curves sparkle alluringly and all he can think about is running his hands all over the silky looking material and then moving on to all of your soft exposed skin. Plus the color of the dress perfectly matches his armor, making it look like you belong with him. He feels as if all of the blood in his body is rushing to one sensitive spot and it’s making him slightly lightheaded. You are smiling at him expectantly, but he has forgotten how to speak. He has to clear his throat twice before he can ground out, “What is that?”

Ok, that wasn’t what you expected him to say. “It’s my new dress,” you retort, a little exasperated.

“That is not a dress. That is pieces of fabric pretending to be a dress.” He sounds frustrated and like he is trying to control himself.

“Hey, you remember our deal, you can’t say anything critical about my clothing.” You give him a pointed look.

“You look like walking sex.” He hisses at you.

“Well, I am going to take that as a compliment.” You flip your hair over your shoulder and huff off in the direction of Isa and a group of friends she has found. If Mando wants to be a fuddy-duddy all night, you’re going to let him. Isa is fun and you’re sure her friends will be too. You put your smile back on and square your shoulders in determination as you stride over towards them.

The caverns have been lit with several colorful lights which bounce off of the icy walls and the pools of hot steaming water. There’s a band playing music with a strong beat, a lively dance floor, and several servers circulating with fancy drinks. Isa cheerfully introduces you to her friends, one of whom is a handsome man with golden brown hair and a charming smile, named Guy. He seems to be a bit of a scoundrel, but when he voices how beautiful you are, you can’t help but be flattered. He’s telling you about his job as a pilot for a transport ship, trying to impress you with tales about near misses with ex-Imperials, when he notices the Mandalorian who is not-so-subtly invading your personal space.

Din had watched you walk away, a bit mesmerized by your swinging hips. Of course, by the time he gets his feet moving in your direction, some asshole is already flirting with you. He sees the man flash you a toothy smile and he even has the audacity to lean in and pick up your necklace, Din’s necklace, under the guise of admiring it, all the while staring blatantly at your breasts. Din hears his pulse roaring in his ears as he comes to loom over you and glare at this jerk.

“Hi, Mando,” you say a little sarcasm in your voice at the greeting, “meet Isa’s friend, Guy.”

“Guy?” Mando drawls out incredulously.

“Hey man, nice to meet you,” Guy is affable. “Didn’t catch your name?”

Mando just stares at him and then says, “Seriously, your name is Guy?”

“Guy was just telling me about making the Kuiper run in under 20 parsecs,” you break into the frosty exchange.

“Impossible,” is all Mando says drily.

“No, really,” Guy insists, “I managed to do it by skimming by a black hole.”

“It’s impossible,” Mando says again.

“Maybe you and Guy can trade piloting tips?” you say, adding a small chuckle to ease the tension.

“Not fucking interested.” Mando is being downright rude to him. You’ve never known him to act this way to someone who wasn’t a threat. Luckily, Isa comes to your rescue as she brings her friend Lisbeth over to meet Mando. He seems to come back to himself a bit and is polite as he greets Isa’s friend.

“Are you two together?” Guy questions you nodding his head in Din’s direction.

“Not like that,” you reply, “we’re just friends.” But you say it as if you don’t really believe it.

“You sure?” Guy smiles shrewdly at you.

“Well, he’s never said otherwise,” you conclude with a small shrug.

“In that case, how would you like to dance with me?” Guy holds out his hand to you and gives you a wink. You can’t help but glance back at Mando for a moment, but then turn your gaze back to Guy and say yes. You don’t imagine that Din will ask you to dance anyway as he seems determined to be a grump tonight, plus you’re pretty certain he doesn’t know how to dance.

Guy leads you to the crowded floor and you begin moving to the beat of the heart-pumping music. At first you’re just dancing next to Guy but then he starts closing the distance between you two and eventually puts his hands on your hips. He pulls you in a little closer to him but then suddenly he’s gone, being shoved away roughly by a beskar-clad arm.

“If you’re going to dance, you’re going to dance with me.” Mando tells you possessively. His hands replacing Guy’s on your hips, pulling you in close to him.

“Mando!” you squeak out in surprise at his abrupt appearance. “Is he ok?” You turn your head to look for Guy, embarrassed that Din has so rudely dismissed him.

“I don’t give a damn,” Din tells you as he reaches up and turns your chin so that you are looking back at him. Ironically, the lead singer of the band is belting out a warning to a woman not to fuck with his love. You face flushes as you look into the black visor of the helmet.

“I- I didn’t think you’d want to dance,” you stammer out, stunned by his actions.

“You didn’t give me a chance to ask you,” he replies and he begins to direct your hips to sway with his to the music. You move with him in a sultry pattern. You were wrong, Din does know how to dance. You move your arms up to encircle his neck as you let yourself relax into the movements, your bodies syncing together with the beat.

As the music changes a bit, he turns you in his arms and pulls you against him until you are flush with his body. You lean into his chest feeling the cool metal of his cuirass against your bare back and he dips his head down to your ear, and says “I like dancing with you.” His voice seems huskier than normal.

“I do too,” you tell him in reply. You’re feeling bolder now and you roll your hips over his and brush against something hard that is definitely not beskar. He groans deeply and then turns you around again so he can look in your eyes as he asks, “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“I think I have some idea,” you say flirtatiously and give him a wink. He pulls you back into him with a growl and guides your body into a move so sensual it makes your head spin. His hands are on your bare back now and even though it’s only the leather of his gloves that touch you, the heat coming off of them is undeniable. You can’t resist telling him, “Your hands feel good on me.” He doesn’t say anything in reply but merely tightens his grip on you and then lets his hands explore more of your back.

You lose track of time as you focus only on the Mandalorian and the way you move together. You’ve both become quieter the more you dance as if you no longer can handle verbally teasing each other and just want to feel. Each song blends into the next, and it’s like you are the only two people in the room. A sonic charge could go off and you wouldn’t even notice. When the lights flicker to signal the end of the party, you’re surprised. It takes you a moment to come back to reality, you feel like you’ve just awoken from the middle of an intoxicating dream and your head is a little dizzy. Fortunately, Din seems more in control, and he guides you towards Isa and the exit. Isa! You completely forgot about her. When you reach her, she gives you a sneaky smile and hands you your cloak. As you take it from her, she leans in and whispers, “I told you so.” Din takes the cloak from your hands and places it around your shoulders covering you back up against the cold. Then he takes your hand in his and threads his fingers through yours as he leads you back out into the dark night. All three of you are quiet as you walk back to Isa’s home. When you arrive, Din tells Isa, “We won’t come in, we’ll just let the child sleep here and come back in the morning.”

“Not too early,” Isa says rather cheekily, “I’m sure you’ll need your rest.”

As you head back to the ship with Din, your stomach flips at the idea of being alone with him all night. You shiver a little in anticipation.

“Are you cold?” he asks, noticing the shiver.

“Only a little,” you tell him, not wanting to give away the real reason.

“Maybe you should be wearing more clothing,” Din says, but there is a teasing tone to his voice now.

You reach the ship and head inside. It’s a little chilly in there but not as bad as you thought it might be. You whisk your cloak off of you again, headless of the cold, wanting Din to see you in the dress again.

“I’ll make you a new deal,” he says, his helmet moving up and down as if he is looking you over. “I’ll take you to some warmer planets and I won’t complain about your clothing, but only if you promise to never wear that dress in public again.”

The dress has served its purpose, better than you could have anticipated. “Alright, it’s a deal,” you tell him with a smile.

“Although,” Din drawls out, “if you want to wear it again when we’re alone together, I’d like that.”

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

Thank you for reading! I promise there will be a Part 3 (if I can, I’ll do one T rated and one M rated). Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

@sleepwithacommunist @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @rueblogsthings @mackycat11 @tv-zepeda @remmyswritings @dee-rosemary @boomtownboy @mandosboobiez @hoodjarin @haley7242

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction

173 notes · View notes

tangledinmdzs · 5 years ago

Text

night hunt injuries (heavy), junior quartet headcannons

junior quartet reaction to you being gravely injured, coming back from a night hunt

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧ ✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Lan Sizhui

the intense burns, wafting in the air

the music that is played fills up every available space, seeping into every empty crevice

the guqin glows with spiritually infused music, making the air heavier than it would have been without

Sizhui plays diligently

desperately

when his eyes open, the breath that comes from him is strained

the final note of his spiritual cleansing song hums in the air, only stopping when he places his hand on the stringboard

Sizhui breathes quietly, blinking out of his stupor to look down at his hands

they’re warm from the hours of playing

his fingertips are coated in a thin layer of crimson, drops dotting the metal-nylon strings

but Sizhui doesn’t feel any pain from that

only when he looks up to see your quiet unconscious form a few feet away, does his heart suddenly ache

Sizhui seals his emotions, regaining his focus with a deep calming breath

he doesn’t look at you anymore

he simply plays

he has to play

‘please’, he pleads with every strum on the guqin

he plays and plays and plays

hours pass by like honey in a jaw

his tiredness becomes apparent, only when his string whines an out of place note

it breaks his concentration

Sizhui’s eyes open

they land on you lying on your bed quiet and still

it takes him a while (longer than he would have liked), but he notices the very shallow rise of your chest

‘please’ Sizhui whispers, pleads into the quiet overcast when his piece is finished

the air is tense, quiet

you do not wake

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Lan Jingyi

“...that’s enough.....”

“....”

“...he hasn’t stopped for a while...”

“....”

“Jingyi”

the shout of his name breaks his focus

Jingyi blinks his eyes open just to stare at Jin Ling’s face

he doesn’t understand why it looks so blurry

honestly, the entire room looks blurry and tilted

Jingyi doesn’t even realize he’s unsteady until he’d felt someone catch his arm

it almost makes him let go of his hold on your wrist

but at the thought of you, Jingyi steadies himself

Sizhui’s warm hand doesn’t leave his arm

“I’m fine...” JIngyi breathes out, but his voice sounds weak even to his own ears

Jin Ling looks like he wants to shout again but Sizhui interrupts

“You need to rest,” Sizhui tells his friend but just like the first time he tried, Jingyi brushes him off

“It’s fine, I can still go on,” Jingyi says, but Sizhui’s grip moves to his friend’s shoulder and stays there

“Y/N’s already like this, we don’t need another person dying-”

“Y/N is not dying” Jingyi states darkly, silencing any other words from Jin Ling’s mouth.

Jingyi turns away from Jin Ling and sits down, heavily on the floor by your bedside with Sizhui’s help.

he readjusts his grip on your wrist and takes a deep calming breath

you had come back from a night hunt a few nights ago, spiritual energy so low it was a wonder how you had made it back to Gusu Lan at all

you barely had energy to recall what had transpired before you had lost consciousness

and ever since, you hadn’t woken up again

you had been in a coma for nearly four days now

and Jingyi had been the constant present at your bedside, feeding you spiritual energy nearly (basically) 24/7

Sizhui rubs his friend’s shoulder, taking in a deep breath himself

“What Jin Ling means is you might collapse like Y/N too if you continue,” Sizhui explains, hand overlapping Jingyi’s when he catches his friend trying to sneak some energy to you again

“Y/N needs it more,” Jingyi protests, gently

“But you don’t have anymore left to give,” Sizhui replies, and holds his friend’s hand tightly over your wrist

the quiet between you all is heavy

Jingyi focuses on your light, slow pulse that had been his anchor for the past few hours

“I can take over for you; go rest a bit and then come back.” Sizhui tells his friend with a finality that Jingyi doesn’t have the energy to fight

doesn’t think he can fight against Sizhui anyways

Sizhui helps Jingyi stand up again and Jin Ling comes to take his arm, albeit worriedly

even then, Jingyi doesn’t leave your room until he sees the soft blue flow from Sizhui’s hand to your wrist

only then does he leave with Jin Ling in relative silence

they’ve both only just started back onto the path to the pavilion when Jin Ling speaks again

“I’m sorry, I overstepped” Jin Ling says to Jingyi when you both are far from the quiet somber air of your residence

Jingyi shakes out of his friends helping grip, even though he is unsteady on his own.

Jin Ling stretches his arms out just in case, but when he locks eyes with Jingyi, he knows the other doesn’t need his help anymore.

“Y/N won’t die. I won’t allow it”

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Jin Ling

Jin Ling’s hurried steps slow

maybe...maybe it had been a good thing that he hadn’t been able to see you

but it had been a week since the last night hunt

and he hadn’t heard from you since

it doesn’t sit right with him

but when enters the physician’s tent and he looks at you now...

he can’t breathe

you’re dressed in your inner robes, something that he had always imagined seeing you in intimately for the first time...not...not injured like this

there’s a large white bandage wrapped around most of your lower torso, the color almost as pale as your skin

when Jin Ling stumbles close to your bedside he catches the not even a pale parlor of your skin, but the near translucence of it

you don’t stir even as he falls to his knees loudly by your bedside, wide eyes staring at your still form

if he hadn’t noticed the soft lift of your chest he would have thought...he would have almost believed...

“what happened” Jin Ling asks quietly, when the physician’s step slow to a stop nearby

"a kind of monster demon... still unclear from the younger disciple’s accounts...” the physician answers shakily

“you do not have to worry though, many of the younger disciples from this mission are safe” the physician adds on and Jin Ling closes his eyes and sighs

of course, just like you to risk yourself for the protection of others, Jin Ling thinks heavily to himself

he hopes, prays, that your sacrifice will not cost your entire life

“how long as Y/N been like this,” Jin Ling asks when he leaves his thoughts

“...nearing a week now... Sect Leader...”

Jin Ling’s eyes flicker to your still form and then harden with his voice

“you will search through all of Lanling’s medical inventories for any needed supplies and herbs. you are free to use as much as you need and if there is anything that isn’t found, report back to me as i will have it delivered to us.” Jin Ling commands, his sect leader voice coming out

though it sounds smaller next to your bedside

“leave us for now,” Jin Ling commands, doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge the stiff departing greeting

his eyes stay on your sleeping face

if the physician had seen his hand wrap around your limp hand, he doesn’t comment

only when he hears the door to the room close does he finally bow his head, leaning against your hand

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Ouyang Zizhen

the signal had gone off last night

it lit up the dark midnight of Gusu Lan

and this morning, nobody could believe all the injured that were carried back

Zizhen easily rushed in to aid with his peers not just because it was needed but because you had been on this night hunt

and he hadn’t seen you come back yet

“Y/N” Zizhen calls your name amongst all the stretchers and injured surrounding the physician tents

but no one answers to your name

some people look up at him

others called him over for extra help and assistance

but none of them are ever you

Zizhen is truly on the brink of tears

because your unit had only around 10, 15 people at most

and barely half of them came back

he stands by the gate for hours and he’s nearly close to tears because he’s asked everyone and looked everywhere

no one knew where you were

or where you could possibly be

Zizhen circles around the main gates of Cloud Recess like a guard, staying there until late into the afternoon

the sun is nearly setting when a shadow flies overhead

and it takes him an extra second to believe his eyes

he’s running to you, meeting you half way on the path, your name on his lips

when you land from your sword, you are spent

the moment your feet touch the ground, you close your eyes

you fall to your knees just as Zizhen runs up to you

he breaks the rest of your fall as he brings you into his arms

“Y/N” Zizhen whispers your names shakily

there’s no response except a breathy exhale, as you lull your head again his chest

he gathers you into his arms quickly, getting a sturdy grip before running back for help

a heartbeat by your head lulls you into darkness

166 notes · View notes

wedreamedlove · 4 years ago

Text

MLQC Men Headcanon Notes

Now that I’ve spent more time with these men (it’s getting close to 2 years!) I wanted to share the general thoughts, themes, motifs, etc. that I keep in mind when I’m writing their character.

This is 1000% headcanon territory, so feel free to take what’s useful and ignore what’s not LOL but I’d also love to see people add in their own “character reference cheat sheet” to this!

(I’m especially curious because, due to being of Asian diaspora, I write best in English but my understanding of the characters come from CN/JP text). Incidentally, if anyone feels ANY of this when reading my fics, then that’s all I could ever ask for LOL.

LI ZEYAN

He is Capricorn² and, while the game doesn’t make explicit mentions to this, I associate the element earth with him because of this. He’s described with attributes like being steady, calm, and always in control. He is the epitome of an immovable boulder and things revolve around him, not the other way around. I like to draw on imagery of unbending steel and/or the stable ground.

Meanwhile, like the goat of his astrological sign, every step he takes to climb to his goal is assured. He doesn’t do anything spontaneous or without thought, so if he does lose control and act without thinking then it has to be a momentuous occasion. Basically, it’s really important to me that if I write a loss of control, then it’s likely to be the centerpiece.

Keeping in mind that his Evol is time control, I also like to try and subtly weave an atmosphere of how everything happens at his pace. Winter being his season only adds onto this because the world stills when it’s covered in snow; everything becomes muted, hushed, and slowed in this season.

The chemistry in his romance arc is how his pace and control gets disturbed, but he adapts quickly and learns to go along with these moments of whimsy. Or more like that’s his character development and how love changes him.

His canon (spirit) animal is the cat and lion. Felines go along very well with the emperor or noble archetypes he has in all his AU cards, because cats are stereotyped as being independent and haughty animals. He’s not big on PDA or excessive skinship, but he’s not disagreeable to them either. Too much stimulation and, like a cat, he’ll probably show exasperation. Ignore him for too long though and he’ll come to share his presence with you.

For me, his love is shown through quiet acts of service that don’t have any attention drawn to them. Him just being in the same room or giving his attention is how he emotes his love.

He’s quite low-key in his normal life so he doesn’t seem like someone who gets confused over commoner things, but there are also moments where he spends an enormous amount of money without blinking. If life can be made easier with money then why not, right?

Keywords: Calm. Steady. Earth. Immovable. Control. Exasperated Affection. Time. Cats. Literal Capricorn. Winter. Mature.

ZHOU QILUO

First thing that comes to mind is the sun and heat. Fire is his element and so I go for stereotypical imagery like flares of passion and burning bright. He switches expressions and moods at the drop of a hat and he’s a mood maker to the extreme, but there’s no hiding the way he shines with his love for his love.

However, because he’s also Helios, it’s really important for me to play around with dualities and explore the other side of this positive imagery. So, just like how the sun can bring warmth and life, it’s also a deadly laser something that can hurt people by blinding them or setting fires. It’s also fun to remember that the moon only has light from the sun’s reflection.

Game-wise, I believe Helios has been described with cold and ice imagery but, because I try to keep that imagery for Li Zeyan, what I like to consider instead is that extremely cold things can “burn” you too. Frostbite can also be called ice burn.

The sky is repeated imagery for Luoluo too, because of his eyes, but I’ll admit I’m still uncertain about how to interpret this for his character. Generally, the sky represents freedom but...? How I approach this is that the sky doesn’t discriminate and protects everyone below it (echoing his quote about how he protects the light in the dark).

On this note about the sky being welcoming, I view Luoluo’s love as one that accepts his love no matter what they’re like and he grows together with them (unlike the two adults, Li Zeyan and Xu Mo).

However, again, it’s super important to remember his duality and just because he’s a playful mood maker doesn’t mean he’s not able to switch into a serious and mature mode. He keeps his innocence and warm heart despite the darkness he’s seen and understands.

His canon animal is the bear which also makes me tilt my head. I can only see this as how bears are seen as both cuddly and cute, but also fierce and protective. He was also given a stag but... no one uses that LOL.

Keywords: Fire. Passion. Playful. Innocent. Little Sun! But Moon. Spring. Sacrifice. Darkness. Sky. Mischievous. Mood Maker.

BAI QI

Every single cell in his body is attuned to his love. You ever lose your phone and then, for the rest of the day, you feel as if you’re missing an important piece of yourself and you have intrusive thoughts wondering where it is? That’s him. You ever see something so cute you experience cute aggression and don’t know what to do with yourself? That’s him. You know those dogs that strain at their leashes on the streets because they want to go and greet you? That’s him.

It’s all about the yearning.

I know, I know, I wrote essays about how he can survive without his love and how he’s someone who carries both love and a greater justice BUT let’s not kid ourselves that he doesn’t revolve around his love like Jupiter around the sun.

Anyway, so the game shoves wind descriptions down our throats. It’s literally another vehicle for him to emote his love and, to be honest, I don’t do much with it other than use it for that. I talked about it extensively in my character essays, but I suppose I play with the irony of how he’s only free because he has a home can return to. [Loneliness SR Wind and Care Call] “Because I have a place for my heart, I can fly anywhere.”

I don’t believe the game emphasizes this any more than it does with the other men, but I try to always have a point of contact between Bai Qi and his love because, again, the yearning and vibrating with All That Love. He’s such a physical character (military archetype) that I also want to emphasize that in writing.

In addition, I’m all about him being the most feral of the men. Heck, his canon animal is the wolf which is great for both its stereotypical and non-stereotypical meanings, such as being a lone wolf and ferocious animal but also a pack animal that can’t survive on its own and needs a pack. Meanwhile, NW717 is described in-game as a monster.

Look, one of his signature descriptions in the game is resting his chin on or against his love’s head and nuzzling them. I’m not baselessly trying to push my kink I swear.

So, like how Bai Qi said in [Light Bath SSR: Tenderness Call] that maybe he only shows his gentleness towards select people (his love and mother), he’ll give the person he loves all the warmth of his being but, oh boy, I see him as being a beast who will remember his true nature upon being chained; the “chain” of love gives him the reassurance he needs to be truly free... in all its meanings.

Keywords: Ginkgo. Summer. Primal. Wind. Love is love is love. 3-Point Contact. Wolf. Yearning. Vitality. Justice. Freedom. Physical. Restraint.

XU MO

First, given how vocal I am about Elex’s changes, this is probably going to be the most drastically different section out of everyone vs. their English version.

Soft. Light. Gentle. Kind. Gossamery. Feathery. Ethereal. Faint. Whenever I write him, do I literally open up a thesaurus to find synonyms for gentle, light, and soft? Yup! LOL.

Fun fact, in CN and JP the word for “smile” and “laugh” is the same character and so sometimes there is ambiguity when translating if there’s no clear markers. The writers definitely had a word in mind when they wrote the scene, but unfortunately we don’t have the ability to check with them at every use and so sometimes it does come to subjective interpretation.

For me, Xu Mo is characterized by a lot of quietness. Game-wise, there are enormous usages of silence and descriptions of emotional fluctuations in his eyes so Significant Silences and Looks are a major thing with him and in my writing for him, which is why I always choose “smile” over “laugh” if there is any ambiguity in the line (I believe Elex leans towards chuckles).

On a similar note, the game also gives him a gigantic serving of descriptions that only ever use the word for “light, slight, faint, soft, gentle” in JP and CN. It gives him a very floaty and dreamy feeling, even if he’s doing something physical. So, it’s important for me to keep a similar atmosphere when writing and make everything feel as if it has to be shared in a whisper.

A bonus here is that it doesn’t require much to turn this ethereal feeling into a melancholic one, so you get that dash of angst that layers over everything. Leave a few things unknown here and there, incomplete actions, eyes that get averted and Boom. Angst.

Shifting gears, but if my imagery of Bai Qi’s love is like a tense, vibrating, and restrained chain of yearning then Xu Mo’s love is like a flood barely being held back by a dam. Knowledge of the quantity and weight behind the dam is terrifying, but it’s safe to be submerged inside it. Much like Luoluo and Helios, Xu Mo also has a dangerous duality in Ares and so I also like to play with this imagery.

So, on this point, I like to preserve an underlying sense of darkness (all-consuming possessiveness, etc.) and envision that he also wishes to stain his love in his colors, like a drop of ink on white paper and how it seeps into every fiber of the paper until the whole thing is saturated with him.

Incidentally, I’m reminded that—whenever possible and natural—I want to exclusively use water imagery with Xu Mo. The game supports this too! He is described with extensive water imagery and so I try to use water metaphors, analogies, and similes.

I try to make sure every sense is present, but I feel like the game emphasizes (especially with the red thread of fate imagery) that Xu Mo and his love are connected at a soul-deep level and so I always keep in mind a mental, emotional, and spiritual aspect.

Lastly, his canon animal is the fox (we ignore the black goat LOL) so contrasting his elegant, scholarly, and gentleman’s air with a black belly, teasing, and mischievous air is also important! Sexual but with, you know, class.

Keywords: Butterflies. Monochrome. Artist. Red Thread. Autumn. Melancholy. Water. Soft. Gentle. Light. Faint. Dreams. Spiritual. Fox.

LING XIAO

I’m getting more comfortable with him, but he’s still shrouded in so much mystery. If every one of the other men treat their loves with gentleness though Ling Xiao is definitely one who isn’t afraid of roughhousing. He’ll act first and then ask for forgiveness afterward, if needed.

But I like to keep in mind that, for all his roughness, he’s still a good kid at heart and when he saw MC’s skirt rising up when he tried to pull her over the fence he immediately stopped. So, a bit of a bully but without any humiliation.

Intelligent, strong, and dangerous but hiding all of that beneath a devil-may-care attitude and someone who does things on a whim. I don’t know what to do much with his canon animal being the shark except to attach it vaguely to this point and think that, as an apex predator of the sea, it does things at its own pace (somehow, it gives me the image that he likes to bite... but, uh, that’s probably just me LOL).

Keywords: Mercurial. Lightning. Sarcasm. Physical.

#love and producer #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mlqc lucien #mlqc kiro #mlqc bai qi #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc xu mo #mlqc zhou qiluo #love and produc(ing) meta

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wannabe-fic-writer · 5 years ago

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Smut

Chapter 10

* * * * * *

Eyebrows shoot up into your hairline. E/c eyes blinking in surprise.

Across from you stands the entire team, in front of them is a large breakfast spread, and balloons.

You smile with a shake of your head,“ what is all this for?”

Tony smiles, rounding the corner to stand at your side. His arm circles your shoulder,“ as of today, you have officially been with us for a year.”

“Awe, guys this really didn’t have to be celebrated.” You tell them, once again looking at all the food on the counter.

All of them instantly wave you off a layer of replies rolling over you varying from “you deserve it” to “Tony just wants to party” which makes you laugh.

Said billionaire picks up two champagne flutes and hands one to you.

“Y/n, this is to a year of being the greatest of friends, a shoulder to cry on, and pretty much the most important member of this team.” Tony holds his glass up and everyone follows in agreement.

Most important member is a stretch in your opinion but they all seem to think so.

Taking a sip, you realize this orange juice is mixed with champagne. Which you should’ve expected from Tony.

Everyone starts to dig into the breakfast, chatter filling the room like it usually does throughout the facility.

“Y/n, congrats!” Peter exclaims, happily wrapping you in a hug that you return.“ I can’t believe it’s been a year. It’s like just yesterday I was learning your name right? And now we’re like best friends.” The boy rambles.

Chuckling, you give him another one armed hug,“ I was starting to see you as more of a little brother actually.”

His brown eyes light up, just like they had on Christmas.“ I’ve never had an older sister before.”

“I know.” You chuckle again.

He smiles brightly once again and gives you another hug,“ I’m glad we met Y/n.”

“Me too Pete.” You rub his back and then pull away. The both of you then going to fix a plate.

Setting your overflowing plate(thanks to Tony’s persistence) on the table, you move to pull your chair out, only for a certain redhead to pull it out for you.

“One full year huh?” She winks at you and sits in the chair next to you.

One year with the team and six months with her.

All that time seemed to fly by in the moment but looking back on it now it’s like more than a year. A year of building these incredible friendships and the most important relationship you’ve had.

“Crazy right.” You breathe a laugh.

Natasha leans towards you, arms supporting her on the table,“ call me corny but, this has been the best year of my life.”

Your hand reaches up to cup her cheek,“ I couldn’t agree more,” the two of you meet for a short sweet kiss,“ also you are corny.”

Laughing, the woman rolls her eyes and kisses you again.

“As cute as you two are, I’d rather eat my food without all the PDA.” Wanda’s voice invades the small moment.

“Sorry Wan.” You smile softly at her.

The younger woman waves you off,“ I was only joking. Partly.”

When the rest of the team sits at the table, you take a moment to thank all of them. Not just for the breakfast but for being so welcoming and just incredible in general.

All the relationships you’ve built wouldn’t have happened without them. And you wouldn’t have been able to help them if they didn’t trust you.

They raise another glass to your thanks and Tony tells you it’s only the tip of the iceberg since he’s throwing you a party later. You’re quick to tell him that’s not necessary but he informs you it’s all planned already.

There hadn’t been a “Stark Party” in a while according to the team. Sam and Peter were quick to thank you, saying they didn’t think there’d be one if you hadn’t showed up.

You hadn’t been to one of Tony’s parties in years. Since long before both snaps.

So you are, admittedly, excited for it. After you’ve gotten dressed you wait an hour after the party had started, as Tony asked you to, before heading out. And even though you were expecting the surprise, the number of people that shout “Happy One Year!’ to you startles you.

An excited laugh leaves your lips and once again Tony approaches you first.

“Okay,” you nod,“ I’ll admit this is pretty great.” You smile at him as the two of you hug. Pulling away you then look to his wife.“ Pep, it’s great to see you.”

She squeezes you tightly,“ I hate that you’ve been here a year and we’ve barely spent any time together.”

Your eyes widen in agreement,“ I know. It’s been way too long since we’ve had a wine night.”

Together the two of you quickly plan a night to do so. Pepper then urging you to go mingle. And you do, making your way through the large crowd of people, those you’ve met and others you’re positive you’ve never seen before.

Until you approach a pair of both someone you know and someone you’ve only heard of.

“Y/nn!”

A smile bursts across your face the second she smiles at you. The blonde woman’s energy contagious.

“Carol! I missed you.” You hug her close, reminded of the months it’s been since she was last here.“ You didn’t have to travel all the way through the galaxy for this but I’m glad you’re here.”

Her hands rub your arms as she pulls away,“ me too. I’ve missed you.” She then steps back, hand resting on the back of the woman you assume to be her girlfriend,“ Y/n this is Maria Rambeau. Maria this is Y/n.”

Maria smiles at you, holding her hand out,“ Carol’s told me a lot about you, it’s a pleasure.”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine. This one doesn’t shut up about you when we talk.” You say teasingly, chin nodding to Carol who’s cheeks tint pink.

The smile Maria sends to Carol is full of nothing but love and adoration. And if there was ever any doubt that Carol loved her, the smile she returns throws it out the window. But you knew.

Your body stiffens in shock when a hand presses to your lower back and you quickly relax once the familiarity of the soft skin and cold temperature hits you.

Your girlfriend smiles over at you and you don’t even fight the urge to place a kiss to her cheek. Afterwards looking back at Carol and Maria.“ Maria this is my girlfriend Natasha. Tash this is Maria, Carol’s girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you. Carol’s told me a bit about you.” Natasha nods to the woman.

All the while Carol is smiling proudly at you, which you shake your head at in amusement.

The blonde quirks a brow,“ girlfriend huh? And how long has that been going on?” Her tone is teasing and curious.

Brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you mumble,“ six months.”

Carol’s proud smile becomes knowing and you swear the heat rushing to your face could be felt around the room.

Natasha, being the god send she is, excuses the two of you. Gracefully pulling you through the crowd to the designated dance floor.

She pulls you to stand in front of her. Those cold hands circling your waist, hands locking behind you at the dip in your back.

Focusing on this moment, your eyes scan her face, taking in her perfect lips, her cheekbones and those tiny dimples, and those eyes. God you swear those eyes were the start of it all.

“You’re so pretty Natasha.” Your hands grip her hips a little tighter.

A smirk curves her lips,“ and you’re beautiful.”

Despite your blush, you jokingly add,“ well you’re gorgeous.”

She laughs, forehead resting on your shoulder,“ getting competitive are we?”

“Maybe a little.” You kiss her temple just before she lifts her head.

The two of you continue to sway to the lowly playing soft music, completely entranced by each other’s presence.

For the last six months the two of you have reveled in these moments together. Some days you could spend together completely. Others you had to steal minutes throughout just to see each other. But it was all perfect.

Learning about Natasha has just proven to make you fall for her more and more. You could safely say your list of reasons why you like her has become reasons why you love her and it’s definitely grown longer.

As all good things come to an end, you’re pulled from your moment with Natasha, by the hand on your shoulder. It’s unexpected which startles you but you’re further startled by the force of the emotions hitting you.

You spin around and lock eyes with Bucky. The anxiety you’d just felt from him is hidden in his eyes, had he not touched you, you wouldn’t have known.

His jaw clenches,“ can we talk?”

“Of course.” You nod, hand squeezing Natasha’s waist as you mumble an excuse me, and walk away with Bucky.

Once in an empty hallway he turns to you, his feelings now showing. Fingers wringing together, his teeth abuse his bottom lip, and his eyes remained trained on the ground.

Knowing not to touch him unless told to, you choose to speak softly,“ Buck, I can tell you’re incredibly anxious. What’s going on?”

“I-” he swallows and when his eyes meet yours there are tears welling in them,“ I saw someone. Someone from HYDRA. I- I don’t know if I’m seeing things or if they were actually here.”

This was a recurring problem with Bucky. One you’d discovered while taking him and Steve to the mall one day. Being in such large crowds overwhelmed the man, triggering his anxiety which in turn triggered hallucinations.

When you addressed it then he revealed that he’d been experiencing these highly anxious moments for a while. The first time the hallucinations had him was months before you’d gotten there while he and Steve were out together.

At that point you’d begun working him through breathing exercises. Coming up with ways to help him cope with the anxiety so that it wouldn’t reach a point where he hallucinated.

“Bucky breathe. Five seconds in and out.” He starts to do as instructed.

You then walk him through his five steps. Listing five things he can see, four things he can hear, three things he can feel, two things he can smell, and one thing he can taste.

He’s calmed down but you can tell he’s still anxious.

“Hey,” your hands rub his arms,“ I’m gonna make it go away okay?”

Brown eyes look into yours and he nods.

Taking a deep, stilling breath in, you take away his major anxiousness, and project the happy excitement you’ve been feeling to him.

Bucky brightens instantly, giving you a small smile, and squeezing your arms.“ I- thank you Y/n.”

“Anytime Buck.”

You wait for the man to disappear around the corner before collapsing to the ground. Your back presses to the wall as you breathe heavily.

“Y/n?”

Overly anxious, you involuntarily jerk away from the redhead beside you.

The woman’s heart races as she looks at you, eyebrows pinched together,“ Y/n what’s wrong?”

“Just- hold on.” You speak through deep breaths.

Natasha waits with you until you calm down. When your body finally untenses and you sag against the wall, your girlfriend moves to kneel in front of you.

Fingers grazing your legs she asks, with a soft demanding tone,“ what was that?”

“It was nothing. I’m fine I promise.”

“That wasn’t fine. When you left you you were fine. Just now, you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” She presses.

You push your hands up your face and through your hair,“ I didn’t. I was just-”

“Using your powers on Bucky.” She finishes, an almost hard look setting in her eyes.

Her words take you by surprise.

When she found out about your powers is lost on you. And what did she know about them?

Eyes wide, you can barely ask what she’s talking about before she speaks again.“ Have you been using your powers on everyone this entire time?”

“I- yes.”

“And you weren’t going to say anything?” She stands.

Following suit, you stand as well,“ I was going to tell you but I didn’t want to worry you. And I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle it-”

A deep frown covers her brow,“ you never even gave me a chance. Am I correct in assuming you’ve been lying to me then? All those times I came to see you after your session and you told me you were fine?”

“That wasn’t necessarily a lie. I was fine it just took me a minute.”

“Necessarily?” Green eyes narrow at you.“ Lying is lying I don’t care how technical you want to get about it. I do care that you’ve constantly been telling me to trust you and be honest, yet you’ve been lying since the beginning.”

You open your mouth to protest or object but she’s right.“ Tash I’m sorry okay. I swear I was planning to tell you.”

“Planning or not, you lied. You could’ve just told me you weren’t ready to talk about it. How was lying the better option?” A deep sigh leaves the woman’s lips and she runs a hand through her hair, before simply turning to leave.

“Wait Ta-”

She holds her hand up,“ don’t follow me Y/n. I need a minute. Just go enjoy your party.”

With that she leaves you in the hall alone. And you can only blame yourself.

* * * * * *

taglist: @username23345 @muffliat-o @aaron-despair @natasha-danvers @wildhoney32 @criminallyhamilton @fayhar @nat-km-mh @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #prove me wrong #reader insert

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wienerbarnes · 5 years ago

Text

Witch Bitch

Pairing: Bucky x Witch!Reader

Word Count: 3,943

Warnings: witch stuff, burning at the stake 😳

A/N: this is heavily inspired by american horror story: coven bc i recently watched and ive been binging all of it lately but its not necessary to know anything about ahs lol i kinda just used their fancy magical terminology and concepts bc they were cool🤪

MAIN MASTERLIST

The best time of the day was breakfast. It was the time when Bucky, Sam, and Sharon were most often together. Sometimes training overlapped and they missed lunch. Sometimes missions ran long or friends were in town and they missed dinner. But the morning? They were all early birds, all awake by seven. They took that shared characteristic and shared breakfast together whenever they could. Bucky usually took care of the coffee, Sam usually took care of the eggs and bacon, and Sharon usually took care of the bagels, toasting them to perfection before slathering on a layer of cream cheese.

It was a moment of peace in their day. Quiet before the noise of the gym or the conference room or the jets or the private trainings or the interviews with prospective agents or anything else they do on a daily basis. It was a time for three friends to just sit and eat and enjoy each other's company as though they are just that: three friends. Not super soldiers or captains or special agents. Just people being normal. Normal doesn’t last long, though. It never does for them.

Bucky’s on dish washing duty this morning while Sam and Sharon chat idly behind him, waiting for him to finish so they can all leave together. A soft voice interrupts them, though, making the three of them stop what they’re doing because no one has access to this floor except for the people that live here - meaning them three.

“Who’s in charge here?” You ask.

“Who the hell are you?! How did you get up here?!” Sharon asks, ignoring your question.

You were in a long, flowy black skirt, slit cut in the left side exposing your leg, and a long-sleeve black shirt, tucked beneath the waistband. Think black boots cover your feet and a black hat sits on your head to complete your look. Bucky almost doesn’t notice the folded black umbrella underneath your arm as his eyes trail down the multiple chains and necklaces around your neck, falling between your breasts.

“I’ve been trying to find someone to help me but the people in this building are not very helpful. I figured I’d find who’s in charge myself, something that you all don’t seem to want to help me with, either.” You explain.

“The only way to even enter this building is through strict appointment and background checks, and no one’s even allowed past the nineteenth floor.” Sam explains.

“Why are you entertaining this? I’m getting her out of here.” Sharon says, moving to walk towards you to take you out of the building herself.

As she nears closer and closer, you wave your hand lazily, without taking your eyes off Bucky, the only one who hasn’t said anything this whole time, and Sharon collapses on the floor soundlessly.

“Jesus!”

“What did you do!”

Both Bucky and Sam panic as they rush to Sharon’s body on the floor. They frantically run their hands over her body, looking for the point of injury that made her collapse the way she did, but they find nothing. No holes, no blood; she didn’t even make a sound.

“She’s not breathing and she doesn’t have a pulse, what the fuck did you do to her?!” Sam yells at you.

You roll your eyes, “Okay, you got me. I don’t need help finding who’s in charge, I already know it’s you. I still do need your help, though.”

You’re ignored as the two men hover over their friend, unsure of what to do or what even happened to her.

“Oh, alright, move.” You order them, stepping over Sharon’s body.

You stand before her, lifting your hands to hover over her body before closing your eyes and letting out a deep and long exhale. Bucky and Sam watch as it takes only about seven seconds for their friend to suddenly gasp for air, jumping back to life. The boys crowd her once more, checking her eyes, her pulse, everything to convince themselves that she’s actually alive like that, and if she was even dead in the first place.

Sam finally looks back up at you from the ground, as though he just remembered that you’re there, “What are you?”

You smirk in response, ready to finally get what you came here for.

…

“So, you’re a witch?” Sam asks, the four of them now occupying a private conference room for some privacy.

“A witch who killed me.” Sharon adds.

“And a witch that brought you right back.” You reply, leaning back on your chair, leg crossed over your knee, slit exposing your thigh. Bucky’s eye twitch to look at your bare skin for a second before returning to meet your eyes.

“So… what do you do?” Bucky asks.

You smile at his innocent curiosity, “All witches don’t have one universal power. Some are clairvoyant, some do voodoo, some dabble in pyrokinesis, divination, transmutation, descendum,” You glance over to Sharon, who’s still pouting at you, “Resurrection.”

“And can you do all of those?” Bucky asks.

“Almost all of them, but I’m not here to talk about me.”

“Why are you here?” Sharon asks.

“You guys hunt the Nazi’s, right?” You ask, aiming your question towards Sam, knowing he’s the Captain in charge.

“Hydra, yes.” He confirms.

“Well, your Nazi’s somehow got a hold of my magic. And they are playing with very dangerous fire,” You begin.

Bucky interrupts, “We’re all for taking down Hydra, but, don’t you think you’re a little more… powerful than us?” He asks.

“Bucky!” Sharon slaps his arm, as though she’s shocked that he would ever admit such a thing.

“I am. But I’m not that powerful, either. Not anymore, at least. A group of those Hydra invaded the coven my sisters and I were at. I was the only one that escaped.” You tell them.

“Did Hydra take them?” Sam asks.

“No, they killed them.” You respond, growing irritated as the subject grows touchier and touchier.

“Can’t you just bring them back like you did me?” Sharon inquires.

“No! I can’t. Like I said, I’m not that powerful anymore. Maybe I’d be able to bring back a house full of dead girls when it was me and twelve others but it’s just me now. I wouldn’t come all the way over here if I had other options.”

Silence grows over the group as they process what you’ve gone through. Surviving through the massacre of your fellow witches and not being powerful enough to find the people that did it on your own. You’re vulnerable.

“So what can we do?” Sam asks, ready to join forces with you.

“Help me locate the men who did this so I can handle the magic part.” You tell him.

“What magic do they have?”

“Although witches control most of the magic, sometimes it can be taken on in… physical forms. Specifically blood. The blood they retrieved was from a witch that was skilled in Vitali Vitalis.”

“The alive within the living.” Bucky translates.

“There are two worlds: the living and the dead,” You begin to explain, “Vitali Vitalis keeps the balance between these two things and it’s one of the most difficult powers for a witch to master. Oftentimes it’s used to give parts of your own life, health, and energy to someone who needs it. But it can also allow you to take life from someone and give it to yourself.”

“Like immortality?” Sam questions.

“Not quite. Any witch can be killed with a knife or bullet. This kind of magic keeps you from dying of age. I’ve only ever known one witch who mastered it.”

“What happened to her?”

“She used it for evil, like this. Took the souls of hundreds in order to allow herself to live for almost three centuries. Until she was killed, of course.” You finish, a small smile on your lips knowing that she got what she deserved.

“What, you burn her at the stake?” Sharon jokes.

“Yes, actually. We did.” You tell her matter-of-factly, becoming more and more irritated at the fact that she doesn’t seem to take this is as seriously as you are.

Bucky interrupts, sensing the rising tension between the two girls, “So when we find these guys, you’re going to burn them at the stake, too?” He asks.

“Yes,” You say, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “The consequence of using magic like this for evil is death by fire. I hope you all don’t think the rules will change on account of these men being Nazi’s?”

“Well, we just have a different way of doing things -” Sam begin to defend

“Yes, I’m aware. The countless destruction caused by you and other militaries, the millions of innocent lives lost yearly, not only in the constant war and irresponsible handling of your nuclear and alien weaponry, but by incorrect prosecution. Not to mention the billions of dollars spent on your ridiculous prison systems that don’t work when actual bad people escape and the death penalty practices in certain states. I just figured my way was easier. And cheaper.” You reply.

Silence crowds over the four of them once more as they think over all their options.

“I’m in.” Bucky speaks first.

“Me, too. Even if I don’t like you.” Sharon follows.

“Feeling’s mutual, dear.” You smile at her.

The three of them look to Sam, waiting for his commitment as well.

“Alright. Let’s get to work.”

Plans were made, theories of location were thought of, and plans to execute the mission were put into place, all of which included you. A temporary room was given to you when the information of your lack of a place to stay was brought to light. Only for the duration of this mission, is what Sam told you, but you can spot the amount of love and light in his heart from miles away.

It was later that night, and you’ve since cleansed the room, going as far as to place a protective spell on the entire floor. You’ve lost too much already, and you’re not about to risk anything.

A knock at the door sounds and the visitor you’d been expecting has finally arrived. You walk towards the door, still in your clothes from earlier but now you’ve removed your shoes, and open the door to reveal Bucky.

“I was waiting for you.” You tell him.

“How’d you know I’d come?” He asks, stepping through the door when you step aside, silently gesturing to him to enter.

“I can hear your thoughts. You've been debating whether or not to come see me for the past thirty minutes. Your mind is very loud.”

“Tell me about it.” He mumbles to himself, thinking about the countless nightmares, voices, and all the other reminders of just how loud his mind was.

“You can ask all your questions, you know. I won’t take any offence. You’re just curious.” You tell him, settling on your bed, hoping he’ll join you and stop hovering near the door.

Luckily he takes the hint and takes a seat across from you.

“I’ve never met a witch before. A real one, I mean. Like, someone born a witch. Like Salem witches -”

“I understand.” You chuckle lightly.

“You don’t seem… afraid of me. Or, hesitant, rather.” You tell him, thinking about how he’s received your presence here compared to his colleagues.

“I was wary when you killed my friend, but… you just need some help, is all. I’m sorry, by the way, I’m not sure if I said it before, but, I’m sorry for what happened to your friends.” He tells you.

He’s very polite. But you supposed that’s not abnormal considering he got his manners from the 1920’s. You like it, though. You give him an appreciative smile before giving him the okay to ask you whatever he wanted.

“So you said that witches can master multiple powers but have one specialty; is yours resurrection?”

“Yes; it was the first power I ever exhibited when I was a teenager. I was about fourteen or fifteen. My next mastered skill is descendum and then clairvoyance, where I was in my twenties, or so.” You tell him as he looks at you with pure fascination in his eyes.

“What is - what is descendum?”

You pause, “The power to descend your soul down into the afterlife - to hell. And return alive.”

His eyes widened, not even knowing that was something someone can do; not even knowing that hell existed in the first place, “So, you’ve been to hell?”

“Yes. I’ve also been able to retrieve people from hell, their soul. A variation of my power of resurrection, I suppose.” You explain, not being too fond of that power; descending to hell.

Bucky sits in silence for a few minutes, and you let him. You can hear the question lingering around in his head; what he’s thinking. But you let him build up his own courage to ask it. You know he’s only scared of the answer; the answer you know he’s not going to like.

“What is hell like?” He whispers.

“It doesn’t matter what my hell is like. Everyone has their own personal hell they experience when they die.” You tell him.

Confusion clouds his features as he registers your answer.

“Is there… Is there no heaven?”

You smirk, “It’s nice that you’ve remained religious after all this time.”

“Yes, there's heaven. But only for the purest and most innocent of souls. And rarely do people escape life without sin. Everyone has evil in them.” You tell him, knowing it’s a harsh truth that no one wants to hear.

The people Bucky’s killed, the crime he’s committed, the families he’s hurt; it all passes through his mind. Everyone has evil in them.

“What was your hell like?”

“I’m not telling you that.” You tell him quickly.

Bucky ponders what his own hell will be like, after seeing the way you’re clearly shaken up about your own. The fall from the train. The man in a lab coat sawing off the rest of his arm. The needles poking through his skin in the middle of some facility. The chair.

He doesn’t realize that he’s looked away from you until he snaps his thoughts back to the present and sees he’s looking down into his lap. He glances up to see your face, your soft features and kind eyes staring at him. He glances from your eyes to your lips and back up again before clearing his throat, not realizing how close he got to you during his time here sitting on your bed.

“You know, I, uh, I should go. Thank you for, uh, answering my questions, but we head out pretty - pretty early tomorrow, so,” He trails off, standing and patting down his shirt to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles in a nervous habit.

He makes his way towards the door and his hand touches the knob when he hears your voice, “Hey, Bucky?” He turns slightly to face you again, a hum to indicate for you to continue.

“Thank you for coming to see me. And thank you for all the kindness you’ve shown me. You’re a very good person.” You tell him sincerely.

He gives you a nod of you’re welcome before exiting.

He’s not sure if you told him that because you truly mean it, or if it’s because of the state of anxiety and existential crises you’ve put him in now that he’s going to be thinking about his personal hell, but he appreciates it, nonetheless.

He thinks you’re a pretty good person, yourself.

…

The mission goes off without a hitch. The combined skill of the Avengers’ stealth, spyware, and experience along with your magic and witchery makes for an easy capture of the men who killed your witch sisters and stole your magic.

It’s not long before the facility they were at was shut down and cleared out, arresting any officers and rescuing any prisoners or hostages, and the five men specifically responsible for the destruction of your coven are in separate custody. What’s left of the blood is returned to you, as well.

That’s where the group of you stand now, a decision to be made about the criminals you’ve captured. To be put in the maximum security prison floating in the ocean, or to be put to death by fire.

“I don’t believe in being the executioner of people.” Sam tries to convince.

You can’t help but let a laugh escape you, “Do you know who you work for?! Do you know who you are?!” You remind him.

“Those guys can’t escape the Raft.” He tries, referring to prison in the middle of the ocean you’ve heard about.

“You did.” You respond, knowing about when Steve Rogers took him out of that prison, along with other superheros.

You see Bucky and Sharon look between the two of you, torn between how these Hydra criminals should receive their fate. Staring into the hot depths of flames or rotting alone in a cell? Both seem to be too merciful, in Bucky’s opinion.

“This isn’t just running the facility or experiments, Sam. This is different. They were using dark magic to commit crimes. Maybe they should face the consequences of a dark-magic-punishment.” Sharon offers.

You don’t have time to be shocked at Sharon agreeing with you and picking your side before Bucky agrees and Sam is outnumbered. He stares at you and gives a single nod, allowing you to do this your way.

You smile, a silent thank you for giving you the closure and opportunity to serve justice to those who did you harm. “Off to Massachusetts, then.” You tell them, and Sam takes his seat in the pilot's chair, Bucky accompanying him in the front of the jet.

You take a seat, making yourself comfortable for the flight to Salem and you feel a body take the seat next to you. You glance up to see Sharon looking at you, but you notice she has something in her hand, offering it to you.

You look down to see a small plastic bag of fruit gummies. But not just any fruit gummies, you realize. Halloween themed fruit gummies. The pictures on the outside show the various options inside: witch’s hat, a broom stick, a melting pot, a vial, and a magic wand. Hilarious.

You take the gummies, though, accepting her attempt at a truce.

It’s not long before you and your temporary teammates find themselves standing before a large, empty field, multiple wooden stakes standing about fifteen feet tall scattered about with plenty of space in between.

You lead the walk to a group of them standing tall in line, so the men can be burned at the same time, as opposed to one by one. A group of large, burly agents lug the Hydra operatives along, behind you and the rest of the team.

Bucky hangs around your left, as to not be in the way of the black umbrella held in your right hand, and Sam and Sharon trail behind you. You can sense their uneasiness and tune out their worried thoughts. Everyone’s first burning is always an experience; they’ll get over it.

Bucky doesn’t seem worried, though. In fact, you can’t hear his thoughts this time around. But he still stands tall and straight, walking with confidence, so you make a safe assumption that he’s okay.

None of the men’s cuffs or shackles are removed, but thick rope is tied on top of it, around the wrist and looped around the waist, tying them to the stake. The cuffs are special grade - high tech Avengers vibranium - and they can be retrieved later once the fire burns out.

“Any last words?” You ask, more for tradition than whether or not you actually care.

They look scared, obviously not expecting their fate to look anything like this. You remember seeing Bucky tackle one of them in the facility, prying his mouth open to rip out a tooth, or what looked like a tooth, like a dog caught eating something it wasn’t supposed to. A cyanide pill.

Silence comes from them, except for one of them, “Hail Hydra!” He yells, as if that cowardly and pathetic phrase would change anything.

With a raise of your hand, seemingly with no effort, you wave it and the stakes all begin to rise up in flames. There’s nothing to spark, no twigs, no gasoline, nothing, and Bucky watches as the flames rise, growing stronger as they engulf the five men. They begin to scream, and Bucky looks over at you, as if to confirm you didn’t bring gasoline or something with you, and he sees a smile slowly grow on your lips.

They haven’t stopped screaming; they’re still alive when you turn and begin to walk back the way everyone came. Bucky follows, and eventually Sam and Sharon do, too, the other agents staying behind until the end to retrieve the cuffs and shackles that will survive the fire.

“So, now what?” Sharon asks, the air quieter as the screams have slowly stopped in the distance.

I can’t imagine what kind of paperwork follows this, “Back to the tower.” Sam responds.

“The coven’s only a short walk from here.” You say, not needing to elaborate much more. The men have been caught and brought to justice, but you still have a broken, battered, and beaten down coven to fix.

A friend of yours was meant to go by and retrieve the… bodies. Which you’re grateful for. But magic won’t help you fix the walls, the floors, mop the blood, or find other witches in need of an escape and a place to improve and master their powers. You have a lot of work to do.

As the view of the jet gets closer, you prepare to bid your goodbyes to the Avengers, your thank you’s as well. Regardless of your attitude towards them before, you couldn’t have done this without them.

A metal hand engulfs yours, pulling you back a bit as Sam and Sharon continue on.

“Do you need any help?” Bucky’s warm and gentle voice floods your ears, hand still in yours.

“You guys have been more than enough help, now, really.” You try to tell him, but he has none of it.

“You may be tough, but you can’t fix up that house by yourself,” He tells you, “I can be pretty handy, fixed up a few things back in my day.” A soft smile grows on his face.

You glance over his shoulder as Sam and Sharon wait by the entrance of the jet, “Don’t you have to go back?”

“They won’t miss me.” He tells you, not even looking back to confirm with his teammates, hand dropping to run it through his hair.

You giggle at him, before giving him a shy nod in answer to his offer to help you fix up your big house.

“I’m going to hang out here for a few days.” He yells over his shoulder.

“We figured.” Sam calls out, and Sharon throws you a wave as they board the jet, the opening close after them.

“Lead the way?” Bucky offers you, taking your hand once more, interlocking the fingers this time.

And so the two of you are off, one of your hands still clutching the umbrella, holding it above your head, and the other hand interlaced with the one of a handsome and kind super soldier. This wasn’t the way Bucky expected the last two days to transpire, but he’s glad they led to holding the hand of a very pretty witch.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x witch!reader #marvel #bucky oneshot #love me some magic #also if anyone watches ahs... hmu i love it #ive watched all of them except cult and im currently rewatching freak show rn

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lovelyunholyc · 4 years ago

Text

Sol x (MC) Reader

Smut. 2k words . Light spoiler, takes place on Day (?) of Sol's route.

Sol keeps staring.

His eyes don't move from yours for what feels like eternity.

He's so pretty, you think blearily, the eye contact only making you more dazed. Black hair falling in small tendrils over his forehead, cheeks angular, dusted with roses.Since you walked through those doors and caught his eyes in the reflection of the floor-length mirrors lining a majority of the store, you could hardly think. You could only see, touch, smell the man behind you, so intoxicating, so alluring. Even from behind, he towers over you.

Those icy blue eyes, half-lidded, freezing you in place. Though there is something warm in them, something that stirs your insides and makes your mouth dry.

There is more warmth in his body to match it - so much it radiates off of him in waves, you can feel it, though still he doesn't touch you. The sweet smell of his acme permeates the air around you, between you, pulled tight with tension. It's in every slight huff of his chest as he breathes, caressing the back of your neck with his breath and making you shiver.

He wasn't doing anything but staring, and yet he was torturing you in every way imaginable.

Did he know that?

He murmurs your name, so softly you have to strain to hear it, even with your heightened senses. "Do you trust me?"

There isn't an ounce of doubt in your answer, though the question catches you off guard. "Sol, of course." When you speak you find yourself matching his volume, your voice only slightly above a whisper, though there was no reason for you to be so quiet. The store was empty except for the two of you - he'd made it so especially for you.

"Lean back." He says it softly but firmly, in the simple, direct way that's purely Sol.

You comply almost immediately, as if his command had power over your body. Your back touches his clothed chest, his arms snaking around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The contact, even through the layers of fabric between you, sends a jolt throughout your body, and you feel too hot to stand still, trying your best not to squirm in his arms because no matter what, you know you don't want him to let go.

"Is this okay?" Sol asks, resting his chin on your shoulder, observing your reactions to his touch closely through the mirrors. His lips are dangerously close to your skin, and at this moment you'd do anything, anything to have them touch you, anywhere, everywhere.

You start to shiver with the need, but bite your lip to try and hold it in. You nod weakly.

"Then why are you shaking?" Sol squeezes your waist, an innocent, comforting gesture in extreme contrast to the other things you wish he would do to you instead.

You struggle to find the words, cheeks flushing further, this time out of embarrassment. "I don't have to say it! It's- it's you!"

You think you see hints of a smile playing at his lips and your face grows hotter still. Serious, thoughtful Sol, teasing you?

"Please just touch me," you breathe in exasperation, and the effect is immediate.

You feel his acme flare, explode into a tsunami of desire within him, and despite his cruel taunting, you pity him. It must be even harder for him to deal with than you.

But then, why was he holding back?

Finally he breaks your gaze, instead following the trails his hands made on your body, sneaking under your clothes and savoring your skin. Sol starts at your waist, going over the smooth bump of your stomach before moving down to your thighs. His hands are smooth and warm, his touch gentle, though it's paltry for your satisfaction and only makes you yearn for more, your own fingers automatically coming up to clutch at his biceps. He gives your bottom a little squeeze, making you giggle despite yourself, before he comes back up to your chest, beneath your sweater, and suddenly nothing in the world is less funny.

"Is this okay too?" This is the first time you've heard Sol sound so hoarse and clearly strained, and it only adds to your desire. He was obviously having a hard time as well.

At your hummed approval, he cups your breasts firmly, appreciating their weight. He kneads them lightly only for a second before his fingers sneak under your bra to tweak your nipples.

If you weren't shivering before, now you were positively quaking, thighs rubbing together desperately. "Sol, Sol, please," you whine, barely able to form the words, your mouth suddenly dry.

Sol nods astutely, carrying on as if he's just taking care of business as usual, but his unsteady breathing and slight shivers tell you he's more affected than he lets on. You sigh heavily in contentment when you feel one of his hands move back down to your stomach, somehow unhindered by the material of your skirt. One of his fingers slides beneath your underwear, and you almost fall limp in his arms.

Sol calls you back to him, his knee moving up between your legs to offer extra support. You don't have a moment to thank him, even mentally, before his first touch makes you want to scream.

Sol traces your folds with one finger, then another. His touch is slow, deliberate, savoring the sticky sweetness that coats the pads of his fingers, making for a smooth glide when he makes his way to your entrance; savoring the sweet sounds that come from deep within you, your hips swaying with his movements so nicely, as if you were dancing, just for him. A private performance, in its own way. Every little strum of his fingers had you singing, swaying, unbalanced and weak in his arms.

He was playing you like an instrument. And by God, if he wasn't a master of the art.

All the while, he watches you through the mirror in absolute wonder and admiration. He'd found not too long before that watching your reflection provided a better view of you than looking down, though he did so occasionally for a different angle. This, coupled with the overwhelming feeling of you against him so wholly, writhing, calling his name deep in the throes of pleasure, is enough to drive him insane. He is absolutely mesmerized by you, your body, every little movement, every little sound, too focused on giving you all he can to pay much attention to the growing need in his own abdomen, grinding his hips distractedly against your ass every so often.

You whine, almost pained, when his two fingers leave you momentarily to trace along your folds once again, one digit on either side, pressing in slightly. Your fingers clutch weakly at his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, panting at the short reprieve. "Sol, Sol," you manage, mostly unaware of what you would say. "You're so good, so good, fuck."

He bites your shoulder playfully, and you see his teeth glint through the mirror. "If you keep praising me, I might do something I'll regret," he says lowly, a breath short of a dark chuckle.

His words send a pleasant chill down your spine. A smile makes its way onto your lips. "You're amazing," you whisper, mustering up any compliment you could give as occupied your mind was otherwise. "So good to me, so lovely." You reach up and brush your fingers through his hair with one hand before clutching at his soft strands, forcing his head up to look directly into your eyes. "Sol, you're such a good boy."

You think you hear him curse, but your heart is beating too loudly in your ears, and you have no time to reconsider your boldness before his fingers snap into you once more, without warning. Your back arches sharply, the pressure of his palm against your clit unexpected yet full of promise. Your head falls back against his shoulder, and his hand moves from your chest to your hair to hold it back up, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. He pauses momentarily at your neck, and you both marvel at how nicely it fits in his hand. Then his fingers are back in your hair, maneuvering you to bare your skin for him. All the while, his fingers are pumping steadily, fucking you with an expertise that seems impossible as your first encounter; he abuses the spot that makes you see stars with hardly any effort.

You watch, powerless to do much else, as Sol leaves a trail of kisses from your collar to your jaw. You shiver when his tongue pokes out to lick playfully at the skin on your neck.

And then, he releases his acme into you through that point on your neck.

You practically scream his name, losing any last bit of sense you'd been barely holding onto. You only just miss him lose his composure as well, groaning and biting his tongue behind you as white spots dot your vision. Your orgasm swallows you whole, wave upon wave of pleasure racking through your body, leaving you quaking. You have no control over the way you move, your walls convulsing around his still-moving fingers and releasing your juices into his palm still grinding down hard on your clit, your hips stuttering and pushing sporadically against his thigh between your legs. Your senses are so overwhelmed yet everything feels good, so, so good, you can't focus on any one thing, mind numb with euphoria. You gasp and shudder, a string of curses mixing along with his name falling from your open mouth, and you clutch desperately onto his strong biceps, his hold on you like a vice, grounding, comforting.

He was the source of your blissful little chaos, yet was a beacon of assurance at the same time. How very like him.

In what seems like hours, you finally fall limp in his arms, utterly, satisfyingly spent. "Sol." Your voice is raspy, and you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze just yet, cheeks heating in embarrassment. If this was the effect he had on you with….just that, how much more wild would he render you when...when…-?

You're distracted by his fingers leaving you, and you almost weep at the loss of warm pressure. You look up just in time to see him bring his sullied digits to his lips, and he sucks on them diligently. Something warm and familiar shoots down your spine, and your face only grows hotter still. "Sol!”

Sol only smirks imperceptibly, releasing his ring finger with a barely audible pop that makes you flinch. He reaches down to straighten up your skirt, and abruptly catches you when your knees buckle. He scoops you up in his arms without another word, letting you bury your face in his chest in unspeakable humiliation as he carries you to a lusciously cushioned chair. He brushes his fingers through your hair soothingly, letting you recover in comforting silence. You hug him tightly and focus on his breathing, until it matches up to yours.

"I'm sorry," he says finally, and his deep voice is a soft rumble against your spot on his chest. "I don't want to hurt you."

You peek at him through your lashes, and blush again when you find him staring intently at you, those icy blue eyes so sincere. "Don't apologize, you didn't hurt me." You reach up to straighten the lines of worry on his forehead with your finger, admiring how adorable he was even when he was so concerned. Which was almost always, as you've come to know. "I promise. I'd tell you if you did."

He only looks at you, unconvinced.

You take one of his hands and press your lips to each of his knuckles, grinning as a thought takes root in your mind once more. You know exactly how to distract him, to tease him.

"So, you like it when I praise you….."

#love unholyc #sol #love unholyc sol #sol love unholyc #love unholyc drabble #my writing #ten.writes #love unholyc scenarios #love unholyc imagines #i forgot which day it was dkjesabf im sorry #but i wanted to put this out asap bc its been in progress for like 2 weeks #these tags could use some love #will b posting on ao3 also

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evansyhelp · 5 years ago

Photo

✧ TEXTURES – A TUTORIAL BY EVANSYHELP.

In this (long and image-heavy) tutorial, I’ll be showing you how I make textures, as requested by a very kind anon. I use Photoshop CC 2019 but you should be able to replicate my methods on most editing software. Please like or reblog this post if you find this helpful!

Index.

Ethically Sourcing Your Images.

Finding The Right Image.

Making Your Texture.

Other Tricks I Use.

Quick Recap.

Making Textures Without Images: Speedrun.

Outro.

Ethically Sourcing Your Images.

I will be explaining a couple quick ways to make textures without any images at the end of the tutorial, but since my personal favourite way involves images and that’s specifically what the anon requested, that’s what the majority of the tutorial will be focused on.

The first step, naturally, is finding an image to use. My personal favourite site is Unsplash, but there are plenty of options out there.

What you need to keep in mind is what kind of license the images have. Unsplash is free for personal and commercial use with no attribution required, which makes it perfect for things like this. There are more sites like this in my free for commercial use masterlist (linked at the end of the post), but unless you’re using them in products you’re selling (like graphic commissions), the commercial aspect isn’t something you need to worry about. Just check the site/photographer’s rules to make sure you’re allowed to edit the images for personal use, and whether attribution (credit) is required.

Another important thing to keep in mind is that these sites typically never allow you to redistribute the images as they are. That means you can’t just go to Unsplash’s texture category, save the images without any changes, and reupload them in a texture pack on Tumblr. That’s stealing. We don’t do that.

Finding The Right Image.

Knowing what kinds of images will make good textures is a learning curve. My first couple texture packs are rough compared to what I make now, because I basically taught myself with no guidance and learned through trial and error. But with practice, I learned what worked and what didn’t.

You want your images to be HQ, either with no ‘subject’ (ie. a person) or with a large background. Higher contrast is better but not super necessary. You should hopefully be able to envision what kind of texture you want to make before you even touch the image.

Making Your Texture.

For the majority of the tutorial, this is the image I’ll be working with. Credits can be found in the link at the end of the post.

Open your canvas. You can make specialised textures, like 100px for icons or 540px for Tumblr graphics, but I personally prefer to make them large for versatility. I’m using 800px in this tutorial. Once you’ve chosen your size, upload your full-size image into the canvas. This is where the fun begins!

Drag the image around into a nice position. Or use Edit > Transform to rotate, flip, and warp the image in different ways. Or use Edit > Free Transform (Ctrl+T) to change the size or the angle more precisely. Or probably some combination of all three! With Free Transform, make sure this aspect ratio anchor is selected so you don’t butcher the quality of the image, unless you’re warping it intentionally:

This is all very individual to each image you use. You might want to flip one, shrink another, put another at a 30 degree angle. Just experiment until you end up with something you think would look awesome as a texture. For the sake of providing a good example, I flipped this image vertically, shrunk it to 80% its original size, and rotated it until it looked like the smoke/cloud was coming from the bottom right corner. This is what we have:

Then we move onto enhancing. Textures work best when there’s a lot of contrast because it’s easier to manipulate the blending modes. So if your image isn’t already high contrast, these adjustment layers (Brightness/Contrast, Levels, and Selective Colour) are your new best friends:

If you don’t see this on your Photoshop, go to Window > Adjustments and it should pop up. Again, just experiment, because different images will require different things. Essentially, you want to make the darks darker and the lights lighter. Something I like to do is add a Selective Colour layer and use the Black slider. Pick out the primary colour of the image, and then Whites, in the drop-down menu, and move the bottom slider (left to lighten, right to darken) until you’re satisfied. Like so:

So with those Selective Colour settings and the following Levels settings, here’s the before and after of my image.

Much better contrast! If you want to end here, you can, but I personally prefer grayscale textures a lot of the time because it makes it more versatile. Instead of being forced to make a blue graphic because this image is blue, I can make any colour graphic I want with one simple black and white Gradient layer. Photoshop does have a default Black & White adjustment feature, but I prefer using Gradients.

Pro tip: if your image doesn’t have a pure black, you can keep the darkest parts of your image dark by using the left slider, shown below.

A lot of the time, I’ll also decrease the opacity of that Gradient layer, to somewhere between 80% and 95%, so just a hint of the original colour comes through. This gives it more dimension in my opinion, while still keeping it mostly neutral. Here’s 100% vs. 85%:

You may find that you want to add a little more contrast after. With this texture, I decided to grab another Selective Colour layer, pick ‘Black’ in the drop-down menu, and pull the Black slider up to +40. I also settled on 95% opacity for the Gradient. And here’s the final product!

Other Tricks I Use.

That covers how I make a lot of my easier textures, but here’s a quick run-through of other, slightly more complex tricks. I’ll be working with this image (again, credit at the end of the post):

This, of course, is not as obviously texture-worthy as the previous example, but I love textures with strong lines, so here’s how the magic happens! I wanted to get rid of the detail on the bottom half, so I used the Polygonal Lasso tool to select it:

Then I used the eyedropper tool (the 4th symbol under the polygonal lasso in the image above) to select the blue of the sky and, on a new layer, painted that selection completely blue. I decreased the opacity to 90% just so it wasn’t a total block colour, but not enough that you can really see the lines. I repeated this process for the sky, so it looked more consistent with the bottom half.

Then, using the eyedropper tool again and making a new layer for every colour, I went in with a small soft paintbrush and painted out the harsh vertical lines on each segment of the stripes. I didn’t want to make them totally perfect, but I painted over the bulkiest interruptions.

I added a black and white Gradient layer, using the slider tool I showed you before to darken the darks and lighten the lights, and decreased it to 50% so that it wasn’t totally black and white but still more neutral than the original. Here’s the result:

Another fun way to shake things up, which unfortunately will require Photoshop (CS6 should be fine, not sure about earlier versions), is the Filter Gallery. Go to Filter > Filter Gallery, and you’ll find a TON of effects that change your image drastically. Most of the default settings are nightmarish, but you can play around with the settings panel on the right.

Here’s just a few results that are possible with the Filter Gallery, labelled for convenience. You can view the HQ versions in the link at the end of the post.

Quick Recap.

So you don’t have to reread this obnoxiously large tutorial every time you want to reference it in the future:

Choose a HQ image.

Resize, rotate, flip, and/or warp.

Enhance the contrast.

Black and white!

Paint over problem areas!

Filter > Filter Gallery.

Making Textures Without Images: Speedrun.

We’re almost done! There are some tools built directly into Photoshop that can allow you to make textures completely from scratch, and I’ll briefly cover my favourites here.

The first is pattern fill layers. I spent too many years not appreciating the patterns feature in Photoshop, but they’re great. Go to Layer > New Fill Layer > Pattern, click ‘OK’ on the box that pops up, and another box will pop up to let you choose your pattern.

By themselves, they are UGLY. It can take a while to figure out how to use them. But if you change the scale, change the blending mode, and change the opacity, you have thousands of textures at your fingertips. And if you add two or three together? Billions of possibilities. I can do a more in-depth tutorial on patterns if y’all are interested, but here’s two examples I just whipped up in a matter of minutes, using two patterns on each:

The next feature is gradient fill layers, and the gradient tool. Go to Layer > New Fill Layer > Gradient… to select a gradient (or make your own!) and an angle, OR use the gradient tool (featured below) to drag the gradient across your canvas manually. On its own, boom, that’s a gradient texture. Paired with a pattern or put through the Filter Gallery? Even better!

The last is brushes. Brushes can be great for textures because there are so many kinds. You want to make a paint splatter texture? Paint splatter brush sets are everywhere! You want to make a smoky texture? You can get brushes that look like smoke! Smudged? Scratchy? Grunge? Halftone? Light leaks? Torn paper? Brushes have your back.

With all of these features (and things like actions, too!), your saving grace is going to be this little cog wheel shown below, and the list you’ll find under the Reset/Save/Load section. There are SO many more options built directly into Photoshop that you don’t even see right away, because you have to add them manually from this little cog wheel.

And you can download countless more patterns, gradients, and brushes from sites like Brusheezy and DeviantART. A couple tutorials on downloading and installing them can be found in the link at the end of the post, but remember, download these things ethically. If you want to sell products that use a custom brush, it’s your responsibility to find brushes that are free for commercial use. If you don’t want to credit the creator, it’s your responsibility to find resources that don’t require attribution.

Outro.

I think that’s everything, guys! If you found this tutorial helpful or otherwise enjoy my content, please consider supporting me on Ko-fi! I offer exclusive rewards, like custom graphics, to everyone who donates.

Due to Tumblr’s latest rules about links, you can find the credits list, the promised bonus tutorials, other important links, and the full-size HQ versions of the textures made in this tutorial over here.

Thanks for reading!

#rph #allresources #completeresources #itsphotoshop #chaoticresources #photoshop tutorial #photoshop resources #photoshop help #ps resources #ps tutorial #eh #eh: tutorial #tutorial #ps help #texture #*100 #*250

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beautifulterriblequeen · 4 years ago

Text

Runaan, the Dragonblade

I woke from a dream this morning where I figured out half of this and came up with the rest while I mulled it over, and now I have a new angsty headcanon: Runaan was raised by Avizandum and trained to fight by Skywings at the Storm Spire.

Runaan is a soft elf who's learned to adopt Hard Mode at a moment's notice. Avizandum is a rat bastard who truly thought of humans as lesser beings. Runaan's Hard Mode and his attitude that humans are liars, nothing in them worth sparing, etc etc, is all learned behavior. It makes sense that all his harsh attitudes are part of his assassin training, since Ethari and Lujanne don't share them. And we’ve seen how certain other old dragons feel about humans. Considering that Xadia once wanted to wipe them all out, and that the dragons live by far the longest, it seems to me that the source of prejudice against humans lies with the dragons and is taught to the elves over and over with each new generation.

Then there's that casual line in the Book One novelization where we learn that Xadia wouldn't necessarily choose to avenge Avizandum because he was a morally gray bastard, but it would absolutely cry for justice over Zym being killed. That scene is Rayla's, and all her assassin information comes from Runaan. Bitter about his upbringing at Avizandum's claws, maybe? I don't blame him.

If Avizandum really did raise Runaan and see to his training, then S1E1′s title “Echoes of Thunder” just keeps having more layers to it, doesn’t it? Gosh. Runaan is connected to so many parts of the plot, to so many characters, but behind him lies Thunder. Just like Aaravos lies behind Viren and his own web of connections.

I keep trying to puzzle out Runaan's scars, where and why he got them. This headcanon has yet another guess. See, Ethari is eager to use the Sun's Tears salve to keep Runaan healing quickly--he hates to see his husband hurt, of course he does, he loves him! So I don't think it's very likely that Runaan got those scars after he married Ethari. And then there's his bio clue about "learned to put his mission above all else". If you learn something, that's a lesson, and lessons usually are learned early, especially when assassin training begins before you can even walk.

So if his training supervisor was Avizandum, and Runaan wasn't hard enough during training... I can see it. Typical dragon behavior, a little smack of the tail. It wouldn’t do much damage to another dragon, not with their thick scaled hides. But used on elves who are short and tiny and delicate in comparison? Ouch.

None of Runaan’s scars or even damage from his fight in Harrow’s chamber, none of it is on his back. Runaan never turns his back unless he’s spinning with his blades out. So whatever hit him, he was facing it directly. And if it was Avizandum’s judgment, then he stood there and saw it coming and took it like the stoic Moonshadow he is.

This poor angst-ridden elf, god.

I'm dancing around it here. But Avizandum losing control of Zym was a good thing, and Viren interrupting his hatching storm was beneficial for Zym and therefore all of Xadia - once the Dragaang got to hatch him, anyway. Because however much Avizandum cried at dying and being unable to reach Zym, whether from love or fear or loss of control, he would've raised him to be hard and trained him to be ruthless. Just like Runaan.

Zym was spared all that. But maybe Runaan wasn't. Maybe it's tradition for the Dragon Throne to raise and train each assassin leader, and that's where the blood promise thing comes in. A Moonshadow elf, separate from their people, surrounded by dragons and Skywings, needs to bond with someone. So they make the promise, swear their honor and loyalty in service to the one being who has seen to their education and whatever guidance and comforts they are given in life. And then they go home to the Silvergrove and bind others to the will of the Dragon King.

I had a really old headcanon once that Runaan was raised by Skywings, lol. This version is cooler though. It's just the way he fights. It's so aerial! And all the spinning! Everything about Skywings being strong and fast really just adds more strength to this headcanon. Rayla believes Runaan is the best assassin, and he's described as basically unstoppable. A Moonshadow who fights like a Skywing would have serious advantages over most other combatants. Maybe this will be one more connection between Runaan and Callum someday? How fun would that be? Runaan actually being able to train Callum in Skywing aerial techniques to some degree. Whether he would... ehh. I could see him silently adjusting Callum’s elbow or something and nodding for him to try again, though. Perhaps in a “but I doubt you’ll get it--oh huh, look at that” sort of way. Which would be awesome all around, tbh.

Unfortunately, if Runaan were trained by Skywings, he would have thought himself slow and sloppy during training. It probably influenced his constant training regimen in the Silvergrove. If he trained all the time, he'd at least get closer to Skywing standards. But maybe he still lives with a deep-seated sense of inadequacy for not being as swift and light on his feet as his trainers. And I can see Avizandum allowing that mentality, and even encouraging it, since it would urge a young Runaan to constantly push himself harder.

Now, let me headcanon about Rayla: if she were the child that Runaan chose to follow him as the assassin leader, there is no way in hell he'd let her go back to the Storm Spire for instruction at Avizandum’s claws. So maybe he told Lain and Tiadrin what happened to him, or maybe they already knew. Heck, maybe they were there with him, or maybe Lain was and that’s why he’s Runaan’s best friend. In any case, no one wanted to put Rayla through that, so they all managed a compromise. Lain and Tiadrin went in her place and served on the Dragonguard. And Runaan got to keep Rayla away from Avizandum.

He was so gentle with her when he raised her, it kills me. The irony that he was still training her to be an assassin despite his own history is very deep. But I don't think anyone knows how to get out of that one yet. Still, he raised her softly and with encouraging guidance, not with tail smacking. Somehow, that sense of "I'll never be good enough" did carry over, though... Rayla really is as perceptive as her mother sometimes. She picks up things Runaan never meant to teach her. Luckily that also includes kissing techniques.

Runaan helped Rayla avoid his harsh upbringing at the Storm Spire, but he raised her so softly that she got him captured. He keeps using those Skywing moves like mental chess to try to get around the dangers in his life and protect his friends and family, but the board is set against him. And I'm guessing the only way to win is not to play.

tl;dr: Runaan was raised by dragons and trained by Skywings and it shows, but he didn't want Rayla raised the same way because it was traumatic and scarring, so her parents went to the Storm Spire instead of her. And everything still fell apart because the system is broken.

Extra hc’s:

Runaan got over his fear of heights and death at the same time because Avizandum made him jump off the Spire repeatedly, and he’d have to be chill and calm and accept his fate, and when he was at peace with it, then a Skywing would catch him.

Runaan gave Hendyr his cheek scars for catching him too early one time. Dude was trying to help, and Runaan was trying to be perfect, and it ended with shades of Amaya.

Rayla throwing herself off the pinnacle when she killed Viren was something she may have heard about before, and once again she’s copying Runaan.

There’s a Moonshadow room at the Spire because there’s always a Moonshadow there for training, and that’s where Lain and Tiadrin were living: in Runaan’s childhood room. They’ll know him so much better after having spent time there.

Runaan’s got chronic stress about messy windswept hair now, and that’s why Ethari does his hair for him every morning with those dexterous hands of his, to make sure Runaan feels calm and ordered and as far from the Storm Spire in his mind as possible.

#tdp headcanons #angsty tdp headcanons #tdp angst #runaan #runaan headcanons #storm spire #rayla #lain #tiadrin #moonfam #moonfam angst #Skywing elves #the dream part was about avizandum raising runaan #and i added the skywings training runaan after i woke up #like holy shit this is angsty #i love and hate it aaaaaaa #why everything terrible gotta happen to my boy #no i know why

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sprnklersplashes · 4 years ago

Text

hey who wants some good old fashioned early s1!bellarke fic?

The dropship is cold at night.

Clarke keeps telling herself that’s why she can’t sleep. Not because every time she closes her eyes, all she sees is Wells, or her dad, or Charlotte. She wakes up because of the cold, not because she’s choking on words she never said, or because her eyes are too filled with tears to stay closed.

No, it’s just the cold.

In fairness, it is freezing in here. The Ark really should’ve given them more supplies, but then she remembers with a silent groan that they can’t. The whole reason they’re down here is because they were already stretched thin. That doesn’t make it fair, of course. At least they have machines to make more blankets up there, and workers to run them. Down here they just spread them out as fairly as they can and wait for their turn. Or steal them, in some cases.

She walks in a silent circle, mindful of the others dotted around her. She turns around on her sock-clad feet-her boots might keep her warm but they’re far too noisy for this time-and looks at them. Monty is spread across two seats, his hand hanging off the edge and his lips slightly parted, his hair falling past his forehead. Jasper is next to him, because where else would he be, tucked slightly awkwardly beside the chairs with his back against the wall, a blanket around him. They both look so young when they sleep. They are young, Clarke reminds herself, but now they’re not pretending to be older. They don’t have to be. In sleep, they look like they did on the Ark, before they were arrested. There’s something unfamiliar about them like this, and so she turns away.

Octavia is on this floor too, wrapped so carefully in a blanket that it could only be Bellamy’s work. She looks different in sleep too, far less angry than she is during the day. But somehow, still tense. Clarke’s observed that she’s a light sleeper, and it makes sense. She can’t imagine how she could have lived like that for so long, her own existence deemed a threat. Bellamy may be an ass most of the time, but she can’t blame him for being so protective over her.

Hang on she thinks. Where is Bellamy? Not that she cares, but he was in here when she fell asleep. Just before she nodded off she saw him, whispering something to Octavia, who was half asleep already. She turns again, her eyes better adjusted to the near-darkness, but she doesn’t find him.

She shakes her head and hopes he’s not off doing something stupid. She has enough to worry about without chasing after him.

She pulls her jacket tighter around herself and watches as her breath appears in white smoke in front of her face. Seriously, would it have killed them to add a heater or something? A second layer of insulation? More blankets? Warmer clothes? Anything. Sure, they probably didn’t have much time to plan, and they didn’t know what climate they’d be in, but still. It would’ve been nice to cover all their bases.

She tilts her chin up, her fingers straying to her bare wrist. She probably shouldn’t, but her mind turns up to the Ark, to her mother, who thinks she is dead because she wanted to spite her. Was she ever this spiteful before? Ever in her life, had she gone out of her way to hurt someone the way she has. She doesn’t know. Maybe she’s changing. Maybe the ground brings out the worst in them.

She shivers, and this time it’s not from the cold.

“Morning, Princess.” She nearly jumps ten feet, her hands raised instinctively to fight. Funny how quickly habits have been built into their bodies. Bellamy raises an eyebrow, amused, clearly, his lips curled into a smirk.

He may not be a grounder, but maybe she’ll smack him just for this.

“Is it morning?” she asks instead. Bellamy shakes his head.

“I checked out one of the windows. Still pretty dark out,” he replies. “I’d say we have a couple of hours yet.” She nods and ducks her head as he eyes her curiously. Her first impulse is to storm out and find somewhere else to sleep, but she stays behind, feet rooted to the ground. His eyes stay on her, even if he pretends they don’t.

At least she’s not cold anymore, thanks to the hot flush on her face.

“So what are you doing up?” he asks eventually. He takes a step closer, not invading her space but not staying away either. “Couldn’t sleep?”

She shakes her head. It’s not his business, but there’s no reason to lie. She has a feeling she couldn’t lie to him, not with that sharp mind of his. Or the way he seems to see right through her.

“What about you?” she asks. “Do you regularly walk around the dropship at night, or is this a new habit?”

He laughs at that, soft and quiet. Different from how he usually is. Her curiosity is piqued, even if it’s just slightly.

“Only on nice nights,” he replies, and now it’s her turn to laugh.

They fall quiet again, listening, or at least pretending to listen, to the sound of their friends soft snores. It’s strange, living without the constant rumble of engines in the background, or the casual humming of lights and generators that used to lull her to sleep. Quiet means something new on the ground.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watches as his gaze moves to Octavia again. She sees the way his jaw clenches protectively, but also how his face softens, how his eyes fill with affection at the sight of her. It’s amazing, this fierce kind of love she sees in him, reserved for her and her only.

When she first heard about Octavia and her arrest, of course she was shocked. Who wouldn’t be; a family hiding another person in their unit was unthinkable. But she was curious too. In almost a century, no-one had known the kind of bond that siblings share. Not until them. They were unique on the Ark, just as they’re unique on the ground.

“We should try to sleep too,” he tells her. He looks back at her, and the mask is quickly restored. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“We always have a long day,” she says. “Sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever stop.”

She doesn’t mean to say that part out loud. Her breath hitches, but when she raises her eyes to meet his, she only finds understanding.

“We will, Princess” he tells her, his voice both soft and firm. “We will. One day you’ll be sitting out on a deck chair with a drink in one hand and book in the other and you’ll be laughing about all this.”

She doesn’t think she’ll ever laugh about this, but she smiles all the same. It’s a nice thought.

“And you’ll be there too?”

His smile fades then, the bravado slipping away. Twice this has happened now, and both times it’s drawn her in. Like a loose thread on a sweater that she’s desperate to pull at. To unravel him until she gets to his core.

“Maybe,” he says, but there’s no conviction there. “For now let’s just get some sleep.”

He turns away from her, his clothes blending with the darkness surrounding them, making it hard to tell where he ends or begins, and settles himself against the wall. He leans back and closes his eyes, only to open them moments later.

“You going to stand there all night?” he asks her. “Or are you one of those people who can sleep standing up.”

A sarcastic remark dies on her lips and she crosses over, settling herself a little bit away from him. It would only take extending her arm to touch him, and the thought shouldn’t comfort her as much as it does.

Maybe she’s just lonely, she thinks to herself. She’s never alone. not with 99 kids asking her anything and everything, and certainly not with Finn hovering around her almost all the time. And there’s always something that needs doing, something that occupies her time. But lonely? That’s something she knows. The boy who was her closest confidant is dead in the ground, buried under mounds of dirt, and she spent the little time they had together hating him.

Oh God, the time she wasted.

“Clarke?” Bellamy’s voice snaps her back to reality, his eyes wide when she turns to look at him. He’s pushed himself up the wall and into a half crouching position, one hand ready to reach out to her. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she says. She wipes at her face and buries herself in her jacket, her arms wrapped around herself. “It’s freezing in here, aren’t you cold?”

He hums in agreement. Even when she turns her head away, she feels his eyes on her.

“Come here.” The command catches her off guard, so much so that she’s convinced she imagined it. Until she looks up at him and finds his eyebrow raised and he’s once again sitting, but shifted to welcome an extra body. “Come here.”

“What?” is all she can ask.

“Come on, I know you’re smart, Princess,” he tells her. “Body heat and all that.” He shrugs, playing it off like it’s nothing. Maybe that’s what it is. Nothing. “We can keep each other warm.”

She feels like she should roll her eyes, reply with a quip about how not even in his wildest dreams, but she can’t. Maybe it’s the lateness of the hour, or the fatigue and cold creeping up on her, or the lack of an audience. But she can’t, and she doesn’t even try.

“Just for tonight,” she tells him.

“Just for tonight.”

She shouldn’t be wanting this. She can take care of herself, always could. And besides, he isn’t her friend. He’s done little more than antagonise her and risk lives and be an asshole since they got here. He’s made it his life’s mission to make her life more difficult. He’s selfish, and a dick, and the last person she should ever want to be with.

But he’s sitting there and she’s freezing and the way he’s looking at her is doing something to her. She’s not sure if it’s something good or something bad. It’s just something.

So she settles herself down beside him and ignores the way her heart skips a beat when his leg brushes against hers. Her position is awkward at first, the two of them struggling to get comfortable. The dropship isn’t meant for comfort. But his body is and when she rests her head on his shoulder, he doesn’t complain. And she doesn’t when he takes off his jacket and pulls it over the both of them, his arm around her waist. They’re both too tired and too cold to, and there are more important things to waste their energy on.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare her, being this close to him. Not in that way. Not scared of him, just of the proximity to him. Feeling his breath tickling her ear, or her legs slipped in between his. Or his heartbeat, steady and strong against her side. Doesn’t mean that this doesn’t confuse or scare her, this feeling of complete serenity washing over her. Only means that there are things to do, people to lead and she can only do so much.

Besides, serenity is hard to come by on the ground.

“Don’t think this means anything,” he says, his voice murmured. There’s the Bellamy she knows. “Like I said. Just for tonight.”

And despite herself, she smiles.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replies, but he’s already asleep.

******

She wakes later than usual in the morning, the sun already beaming through the dropship door and dragging her out of sleep. She groans and buries her face in her knees, for a moment forgetting herself and make believing she’s back at home, ignoring her mother’s morning greetings. But her instincts and the Earth’s sunlight are stronger even than Abby Griffin, and her eyes drag open of their own accord. And when they do, she finds the dropship empty, save for Jasper, who she believes could sleep through anything. She shakes her head fondly and pushes herself up, despite her body’s protests. Her arms and legs twinge and her back creaks like the ship’s escape hatch. She’s had her fair share of nights spent on the floor and yet the waking up never gets easier.

There’s a noticeable lack of a body beside her. He must have gotten up before, and a few seconds spent listening confirms her suspicions. He’s outside already, barking orders in that unmistakable voice of his. He carries so much authority in his words, when he wants to. No wonder he was training to be a guard. She considers going out and joining him, or more accurately taking over, but something in her holds back. He’s got it covered, and baring a grounder invasion in the next five minutes, she has time to wake up properly. Besides, he can’t do that much damage this early in the morning.

He must have slipped out quietly enough, she thinks. And carefully, because she didn’t feel a thing. If it weren’t for the heavy guard’s jacket carefully wrapped around her body, she’d have thought last night was a dream.

But it wasn’t. She didn’t dream at all last night. For the first time in far too long, she had slept soundly.

And who’d have seen that coming?

#the 100 #bellarke #bellarke fic #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #bellarke ff #*writes bellarke fic for the first time despite not having watched the show properly in 4 years*#unless u count the two episodes of s5 that I watched

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