#it took me 3 days thinking about the colours and textures i liked running out of glue and cutting parts of my gf thesis

[souvenirmp3]

THIS IS WHY I DON'T LEAVE THE HOUSE!

my contribution to the This Is Why zine @paramoreblr i'm so honoured to be a part of this project <3

[frogzzai]

do you have any headcanons of things the upper moons like to do when they’re not doing demon things? (specific hobbies or secret talents they have?)

I love this ask-

Ofc I do 🤞🤞

Send in requests I have no motivation :'( (I write for MHA, Creepypasta, Slashers, Demon Slayer, JJK, Harry Potter, Rick and Morty, Fantastic Beasts, Winx)

Characters included: Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Hantengu, Sekido, Urogi, Karaku, Aizetsu, Gyokko, Gyutaro, Daki

Uppermoon 1- Kokushibo

So we all know Kokushibo has a flute, right? This leads me to think he'd enjoy music in his spare time and also be quite talented at it.

He wouldn't be able to play any of his instruments inside the infinity castle because it has to be silent on Muzan's orders, so instead Kokushibo would ask Nakime to send him to the outskirts of a serene forest with pretty views and clearings where he can sit and recite different tunes on whatever instrument he wants.

I think he'd prefer the flute, pan pipes and the biwa, he took a liking to the biwa after hearing Nakime strum on it day in and day out.

Another hobby/ talent Kokushibo would have it hair styling and hair care. This man has some of the nicest hair in the demon slayer verse and he is well aware of that.

He dons his usual high ponytail when he's out but he's definitely tried different types of braids on his hair.

He enjoys trying new products on his hair to enhance its beauty.

He isn't a fan of curlers or straighteners, you won't find a single sign of heat damage on this mans head.

Uppermoon 2- Douma

Douma is a fashion fan. Fight me.

He enjoys scouting new outfits of different styles and trying them on to see what he likes best.

Probably one of the few demons that actually changes and washes their clothes.

He likes to try and match his outfits to his fans.

Speaking of his fans, he enjoys polishing them and sharpening up their edges.

If the colour gets chipped he'll carefully repaint them.

He doesn't do it often, but, Douma is a very neat painter. He isn't very good at drawing but he's great with all sorts of tone and texture.

Uppermoon 3- Akaza

Pretty self explanatory, he loves all sorts of combat sports. Judo, Kung-Fu, Thai, Taekwondo, Jiu Jitsu, Kendo.. you get the point.

He can't exactly go to a proper teaching place due to, well, he's a demon. However, there's definitely some sort of demon fight club that he attends, it's not exactly training for him because he's incredibly skillful, yet, he doesn't just do it to get better. He does it because it brings a strange sort of comfort to him.

When Akaza isn't training his combat skills he's reading up on different forms and types of fighting to see if there's anything he's missed despite reading the same content multiple times.

He's very selective on who he spars with. In the demon clubs that gather he only chooses those with the biggest and most noticeable fighting spirit, whether that's a good or bad thing is up to the demon he chooses I suppose.

Pretty much his whole personality revolves around forms of combat. He by far prefers hand on hand combat but occasionally takes a small amount of time to learn different weaponry and it's strengths and weaknesses.

Uppermoon 4- Hantengu

He's scared of literally everything.

I'm not really sure what hobby he'd have, nothing really fits his character.

I've been running through different things in my head and nothing clicks, I can't see him reading, drawing, enjoying music or enjoying nature.

He's just sort of, him?

I guess the one thing I can see him enjoying is people watching and day-dreaming about being in another persons shoes. He probably just sits in the shadows observing people and imagining what their individual lives are like.

Sekido

Enjoys rage rooms.

They fit well with his personality, he probably has his own makeshift rage room with things that are harder to break for a normal human.

I can see this man just hurling tables across the room or splitting a tire in half.

He likes to take out his unrelenting anger on inanimate objects in his spare time. It doesn't satisfy that angry itch inside of him but it lessens it.

That's one of the only things he's able to do, any other hobbies he's attempted lead to frustration and annoyance.

Urogi

His wings and abilities bring him great joy, (obviously).

He enjoys flying around, not really caring if he's seen. He likes to find high places out of reach of any ordinary person or demon and just sit there for a while.

As uncharacteristic as it sounds, he's seemingly one for stargazing, he can't observe the clouds so they're the next best things.

He takes great pride in his wings, he spends multiple hours a day preening and fluffing them.

Definitely parades around different forests showing off his wings to any bird or creature with wings he finds as if to say, 'Hah, my wings are way better, read it and weep bitches'. Urogi, honey, I don't think they care.

Likes to annoy his brothers about the fact they don't have wings, Sekido throws the closest object at him, Karaku uses his leaf to give Urogi 'extra flying lessons' and Aizetsu cries.

Karaku

Karaku's a menace.

One of his favourite past times is to sneak up behind his brothers and give them one of his famous 'free flying lessons'. Most of the time they know he's there and are able to evade his attacks but sometimes they pull the short straw and he's able to successfully sneak up on them.

If they do manage to evade him, they all have very different reactions. Sekido will throw something at him and use a very 'colourful' choice of vocabulary, Urogi will flip it back on him and instead give Karaku flying lessons by dropping him from at least a height of 120 feet and Aizetsu will run off to Sekido, most likely crying, for protection. It's impossible to tell if Sekido is more pissed at Aizetsu for bothering him or at Karaku for being the reason Aizetsu is bothering him.

Aside from bothering his brothers I feel like Karaku would enjoy studying different types of leaves and their qualities, not only does he like them for the fact his blood demon art uses one, he loves how they can vary in colour even if they're of the same species.

Aizetsu

We all know he's very sensitive, it's not exactly a secret. That doesn't necessarily mean he's soft though, (he is a bit).

He's a massive pushover when it comes to animals, it doesn't matter what it is, he finds it adorable and wants to keep it. He knows he can't though, Sekido wouldn't be happy having wherever they're residing at that time to turn into a jungle.

Aizetsu's favourtie animals to interact with are either extremely fluffy ones or ones that are a bit shy by nature like himself. One of his favourites are deer, the forests he visits are practically untouched by human so deer are common.

Aizetsu finds animals with defensive abilities fascinating, he's a massive fan of armadillos however he's never actually seen one. They aren't your everyday animal you'd find in a random forest in Japan, he's only seen them in little animal books he's got one of his brothers to steal for him. He's made it a mission of his to see one, however, seeing as they're only found in zoos or South America that might pose as a bit of a challenge.

Gyokko

Pottery.

Ironic huh?

Actually, it's kind of obvious if you think about it, he did it while human, he incorporates it into his demon activities so of course he does it in his free time.

He doesn't just make pots though.

Pots are his all-time favourite but he also enjoys making sculptures.

If he is fond of another demon he'll make a little sculpture of them as a gift. Along with a pot.

Douma has one, he gave Douma a pot with snowflake designs on it and put the little figurine inside as an extra gift.

He's made multiple of Muzan. Muzan doesn't really care for them but seeing as Gyokko's pots bring in such good money he'll take them and stick them on a shelf somewhere.

Another.. hobby? of Gyokko's is being carried around in his pots. He gets one of the other demons (not necessarily an uppermoon), to bring one of his pots with them on their travels so he can come and go from that pot when he pleases, sticking just his head out and enjoying the ride. It's a bit like having an annoying younger sibling really. Or a little dog that won't leave you alone.

Gyutaro

His main interest is looking after his sister and making sure she's content. That doesn't mean he stays inside of her body all the time though.

The times he's out, usually in her room as he'd stick out like a sore thumb anywhere else, he likes to paint his nails, Daki does it most of the time because she's neater than he is and it brings her joy. The only colours he'll do is black or grey.

Occasionally he does Daki's hair, contrary to popular belief he's actually quite skilled at it.

He doesn't go near her makeup though, he leaves that area for Daki to do herself.

If she needs a container holding he'll do that but he'll never help her apply it. He doesn't want to taint her beauty.

Another one of his hobbies is people watching. He'll sit at the window, occasionally accompanied by Daki, and will mutter to himself about the different people walking by and what he thinks of them. Most of the time it's about how they could never even dream of being as gifted in looks as his sister is. He sneers at them from under the cover of darkness where they'll never see him even if they're looking around at the feeling of being watched.

Daki

Fashion.

Makeup.

Hairdos.

Anything like that and she's into it.

Seeing as she can pass off as human, she's often seen buying an average persons yearly salary worth of high-quality makeup and hair accessories. Nail polish and designer clothes. Expensive lotions and perfumes. Hair products and stylers. You name it, she's bought it.

He favourite things things to buy are hairpins. Even if she'll never wear them, she'll buy them just for the pretty jewels and designs.

She's got a glass cabinet specially designed to hold up her hairpins so they're on full display to anybody who enters her room.

Her wardrobe has a glass door to put her best clothes on display but still protect them from moths and other bugs.

She has different vanity cabinets and desks in her room all for designated items, one for perfumes, another for lotions, multiple for nail polish and many more for different makeup bits and bobs.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

While we're all in our feelings tonight, one thing I'm really grateful for this year for this community and for following Taylor is that it's helped me regain some of my sense of style which has been sorely missing for years. (Caveat: everyone can and should wear whatever they want at all times. This is a very me situation.)

I was very much a Rory Gilmore-type dresser in college and liked to dress up cute and play with makeup and such but then eventually ended up in a job where I was working seven days a week and almost exclusively wore athleisure most of the time. (Not that there's anything wrong with that!!!! You do you boos! It served its purpose for me as well!) And between just being exhausted and being in an environment where dressing up was Not A Thing (which had its own benefits absolutely) and also gaining a lot of weight in the past 5-7 years, I've been so absolutely uncomfortable in my skin and stuck in such a rut.

And while Taylor's style isn't always in my wheelhouse (though it is a lot more often than not) and I'm not tall, thin, blonde or rich, seeing how Taylor plays around with accessories and palettes and textures and kind of inadvertently studying that (and a huge thanks to the Taylor Swift Style blog for tracking all that stuff down), I've started playing around with that myself to see what I like and how I can express myself and my own style through that has honestly been kind of life changing in a way. Because while I still very much feel like an alien in my own body (and wish I looked and felt like I did ten years ago when I was in the best shape of my life), it's at least making me feel like I am gaining the tiniest bit of confidence in myself.

This is not to say that makeup and clothes make everything better. The beauty industry complex is toxic as fuck for a million different reasons and I actively resent it everyday. But I also love the art of makeup; I love how using different palettes play off the colour of my eyes, or different lipstick colours can convey totally different vibes. (I don't wear it everyday, and more often than not when going out don't wear more than a little mascara and eyeliner.)

I love how changing an outfit can go from "I'm a cosmopolitan girl walking through the big city like I belong"* to "I want to run through a field and get lost"** or whatever. I've spent more money on clothes this year than I have in the past five, but they've been intentional and made me think about how they go together, the quality of fabrics and how they hang, and how I can achieve the looks I aspire to. And I also started thrifting!

(*I am definitely not, I'm hopelessly suburban, but I could be a big city girl again if I wanted to. **I also am not actually one to run through fields but you know, I could cosplay the folkore photoshoot if I really wanted to too.)

When those first post-Joever photos from dinner hit in April from NYC in the black bodysuit and jeans, it made me think, "huh, I really like how this looks, but if I were going to wear it, what would I do differently?" and it's gone from there. I've discovered that despite the fact that at first it made me feel like I was 14 in my skating costumes again, I really loved how versatile bodysuits could fit with other pieces of clothing, whether they were high-waisted jeans or wide-leg pants or linen shorts or whatever, and took off from there.

I started experimenting with all the costume jewellery I have (and added more) and how I could change up my stack in a way I haven't since I got my second piercings when I was 13. (Still really tempted to go for #3 and/or a helix that I've wanted since I was 17 butttttt think I'm too chicken at the end of the day.) I've rediscovered my love of blazers and found my pair of go-everywhere white sneakers. (Am never going to be a high heel girl except for fancy events though lmao.) I dug out my jean jacket I hadn't worn in years. I have tried (and mostly failed) to draw a cat eye sharp enough to kill a man.

I'm getting a little better at caring for myself and becoming marginally more accepting of myself where I'm at.

I'm by no means a fashionista and don't follow that world in a general sense, and I'm definitely not, like, setting out to copy Taylor's style at all, however I am grateful that not only do I have all these music that fills me with joy, have made friends online and have bonded with friends IRL over it and now have an awesome trip to Europe on the books for 2024, but that I'm also kind of rediscovering and reconsidering what I like to wear and feel directly and indirectly thanks to Taylor too.

If 2023 was good for one thing for me, it may just be that at least.

[amerrierworld]

Little Songbird (pt 3)

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu becomes addicted to your voice and wants to hear you... sing some more.

Characters: Alcina Dimitrescu x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,087

Warnings: The extra Smut Chapter ;)

The next day, you were a bit exhausted from the previous night’s... activities. But you set about work the same way as usual, though buzzing with an unusual excitement about the evening to come. 

You were working on repairing a rip in one of your old dresses. You really wanted to impress the Lady and look as good as possible, now that she had taken a liking to you. As you worked, the head maid asked you about your previous night’s duties while preparing lunch.

“It wasn’t all bad.” You kept your gaze on the hole in the dress you were mending as she prepped ingredients. “The Lady seemed very preoccupied. I don’t think I was much of a bother.”

“That’s very rare,” another maid cackled while peeling potatoes next to you. “She always looks at us like we’re the dirt on the bottom of her shoes. But I suppose the pay is good.”

“Not freezing out in the cold is very good pay, I agree,” the head house maid said dryly. “I suggest you try to keep it that way.”

The maid looked flustered at the comment and scampered off, intimidated by her gaze and muttering something about more things to be done. You bit your lip to stop from smiling.

“How was it really, my dear?” The head maid turned to you, a much kinder look in her eyes now. “The Lady can be a touch.. harsh.”

“It was fine, really. I didn’t know she had a piano until now.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve never heard her play myself, but I’ve heard stories she used to perform. Especially around holidays or important events.”

“Really?” Your mouth gaped a little as she explained. “I didn’t know she was that good at piano.”

“Oh, no, dear. Not piano. She would sing. It’s a bit sad we haven’t heard her sing at all in our time at the castle. I suspect it would make her a little more approachable. But that may not be what she wants. I’ve heard she was quite a talented singer though...”

As she kept talking, the needle had stilled in your hands, your body freezing at the sudden revelation. Lady Dimitrescu, a singer? Surely not. 

“..Are you alright?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, thinking of how she would sound, what she would sing, and if you would ever get to hear her sing. 

“Yes, yes I’m fine.” You kept pushing the needle through the fabric, trying to remain calm. You felt your body tingle as you remembered the way she wanted to hear you sing. “I have to say, it is quite surprising.”

“Our Lady is definitely full of surprises.” She patted your shoulder before leaving you to your thoughts and your half-stitched handiwork. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to focus on any tasks for the rest of the day now.

Later that night, you hurried to sneak through the hallways on your way to your Lady’s bedchambers. You really didn’t want anyone to see you on the way, since you had no supplies to have an excuse of a chore to be done this time. There was one maid who caught your eye, and she gave you a curious once-over as you walked by in your nicest dress, looking like you were going out rather than going to bed. 

When you got to the door of the room, your heart was thundering in your chest. Your hands had gotten sweaty, and you didn’t understand what was so stressing for you. She had seen every inch of you already, had stripped you on top of the piano, and made you come like you never had before.

You delicately rapped your knuckles on the door, and waited for long, agonizing moments for a response. When none came, you became curious. You turned the door handle and pushed. It opened with no resistance, and there seemed to be no noise coming from inside the room.

You poked your head inside, and was once again astounded by the sheer size of the room. Against your better judgment, you slipped inside and shut the door behind you. Being early was always a good thing, you decided.

Since Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t there yet, you had time to take it in. You were drawn to the massive bed, and the dark red sheets that adorned it. Probably the best colour choice, you figured, considering the high risks of blood stains on any surface in the entire castle. 

You approached and ran a hand over the edge of the fabric, marvelling at its silkiness and expensive textures. It reminded you of everything Lady Dimitrescu liked to wear; expensive, silky, smooth...

The door slammed open, ripping the quiet thought out of your brain, and there stood Lady Dimitrescu. Her expression was fuming, angry, but it didn’t seem to be directed at you, because the minute she saw you standing in the room, it softened in confusion. Like she had forgotten you’d be coming.

You let go of the sheets and clasped your hands behind your back, curtsying quickly in fear of her anger and not wanting to step out of line. She nearly scoffed at you, and took a few long strides to the vanity, sitting down heavily on the bench.

“Help me with my dress.” Her tone was curt, demanding. You paled a little, thinking this night wasn’t gonna go how you expected it to, but still doing as she said. You were a maid, after all.

With her seated, it was easier to reach the buttons along her back, and you made quick work of them. But when you stepped back and she didn’t make any move to get out of her seat, you realized she wanted you to get the entire garment off her.

Her pointed gaze at you in the mirror disappeared from view as you approached the open back and pushed the two halves of the dress aside like peeling delicate fruit. You couldn’t help it; you ran your hands along the thick skin of her back as the dress fell off her shoulders, revealing a tantalizing bra clasp right at eye level that you could have undone quickly if you wanted to.

“You’re being quite bold, little one,” Lady Dimitrescu finally spoke, her voice deep, sultry, but not gentle like it had been last night. There was an iciness to it that stung. Your hands had been lingering a little too long on her skin.

“Forgive me, my lady,” you said, stepping away as she got up to her full height and let the dress pool at her feet. You saw heels in your view and stockings raking up long legs, but you didn’t dare look any higher. 

“Oh, pet. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She ran a hand over your head and walked past you. Your instincts kicked in and you picked up the dress to fold tidily on the vanity’s bench. The slightest touch from her fingers made you shiver, and a blush crept up the back of your neck.

“Look at me, sweetling.”

You turned around to face the bed, where she was sitting, one leg swung over the other, hands perched behind her on the mattress. Yellow eyes looked at you and you gulped for air at the sight of her.

“You’re allowed to look, darling. It would be a bit inconvenient if you weren’t.”

Your cheeks were burning now, but you finally let your eyes wander down her frame. Her lingerie was the epitome of femininity, yet dark and sultry, just like her. The black lace hugged her curves. Her stockings were held up by a garter belt, and she kicked off her heels with one smooth jerk of her legs. 

Her tummy folded in when she was seated, and her thighs, though muscular and lean, were thick and looked strong enough to crush your entire body if she wanted to.

“Come here.” That familiar voice zapped through you and you approached the bed, briefly wondering if what you had heard about her singing talents were true. You supposed it wouldn’t surprise you. As a lady of her standard, learning an instrument or musical skill must’ve been a required lesson for her etiquette. 

She picked you up to sit in her lap, and you squeaked in surprise as she lifted you once again. A chuckle rang throughout the room and you looked up at her, relieved to see the earlier anger had dissipated from her gaze when she looked at you.

“I’m glad you’re here. I had almost forgotten you were coming,” she said, running hands soothingly over your thighs as you straddled her. “I apologize if I was a bit of a sight when I arrived. The staff in this castle is somewhat... incompetent at times.”

So it was the staff that had made her angry. Did another maid try to escape? Enter the cellar? Was there an errand boy that couldn’t keep his hands off of one of the new deliveries? 

Her head lowered to breathe in your scent, lingering right by your ear. You let out a heavy sigh at the feeling of her so close to her, and you reached out to grip her upper arms that framed your body. You ran your fingers along her skin, and she recoiled for a moment, pulling away.

You froze. Did you do something wrong? Fear etched in your eyes, you looked up at the Countess, wondering if you stepped out of line for touching her. Then her gaze focused in on you and she seemed to relax a little.

“Don’t stop.”

Was it a request? An order? You didn’t mind either way, because now your hungry hands ran over her, feeling the dimples and ridges of scars and stretched skin all over. You explored with your hands as much as you did with your eyes, gazing at her cleavage, the curve of her neck, the muscles in her shoulders. 

You ran a hand over her tummy, feeling softness and subconsciously prodding it a little with your fingertip. She giggled at the feeling. Giggled. Her body jostled a bit, moving you about. You liked the feeling and the softness, so kept your hands there.

“I can see a question in your eyes, little one,” Lady Dimitrescu purred, combing a hand through your hair. You cast your gaze downward, running a hand over her skin repeatedly, familiarizing yourself with the patterns of the stretch marks.

“Just.. something I heard today.”

“And what was that?”

You squirmed uncomfortably. “I’m not sure if you want to hear.”

A finger tipped your chin up to her piercing eyes, “I doubt it’ll go unnoticed by me, sweetling. Even if you don’t tell me now, I will hear about it.”

Your mouth went a little dry at that. She was right, nothing happened in this castle without her knowing about it, but goodness... the power behind those words made you weak in the knees. Thank heavens you were sitting. 

“I was told you used to be a singer.”

An amused look crossed her face. “Is that it? I was expecting you to announce a mutiny at hand.”

You shrugged slightly, delighted in the way her hand reached to cup the back of your neck, a thumb running over your throat. “I was hardly a singer, darling. But yes, I used to.. dabble in performance. Long ago.”

“Is that why you were so interested in my singing?” 

She grinned, teeth gleaming. “I was interested in your singing because I was interested in you, little songbird.”

She tugged you impossibly closer, leaning down and running her wicked tongue over where her hand had just been on your neck. 

“W-will I ever get to hear you?” you managed to huff out, because now her firm hands were holding your middle, exploring your body the way you had been exploring hers.

“Is that what you want? To hear me sing?”

You nodded, because the low timbre of her voice was reverberating throughout your whole body, and you suddenly needed to hear it singing a tune.

“Perhaps... if you indulge me like I had indulged your last night, you may get to hear me sing too.”

You felt the tips of your ears nearly burst into flames, but you were so desperate... so eager to please. You nearly dropped down to the floor to get on your knees. 

She chuckled, “not so fast. I have a better idea.”

Lady Dimitrescu shuffled back on the bed until she was up against the pillows. Shoving a pillow under her lower back, she crooked a finger to beckon you closer, spreading her legs. The sight of her, half in candle light, spread out for you this time, but still in charge, made you swoon.

You crawled towards her and pressed your lips against the inside of her knee. She rocked her hips a little at the feeling of your warm, small mouth on her body, and fisted a hand in your hair.

“I really won’t need any foreplay, dear,” she said in a hushed tone. “Give me your mouth.”

You raced to tug the black lace panties off of her long legs, and were met with the sight of slick, swollen flesh. A carnal desire overtook you, and you surged forwards to press your mouth against her, desperate to taste.

A soft ‘oh’ escaped the giantess at your eagerness and your soft tongue tasting her arousal without hesitation. She enjoyed teasing you, yes, making you beg and dance around the sexual gratification she could give you. But this, your hunger and desire to please, made her warm all over.

“Good girl,” she said softly as your tongue began flicking over her swollen clit, lightly and experimentally. Your hands gripped the inside of her thighs, keeping them steady and spread. She was able to look down at you, and realized her rough gripping had made your hair come undone, causing curls and locks to drop down, loose and wild. Your eyes met hers, pupils dilated, and then you sucked. 

The high-pitched cry that escaped her was broken and sudden, and it made your body flood with arousal. Your legs trembled a little, the space between your legs begging for attention.

“Oh, who would have thought you’d be so good with your tongue, sweetling?” Lady Dimitrescu moaned, “I knew you were talented.. but that mouth...”

Her sentence was left unfinished, and she bit her lip, groaning softly in the back of her throat as you kept going. Your fingers rubbed her folds, teased her entrance, kissing and sucking until you could find a rhythm that made her squeak.

A nip at the hood of her clit made her gasp delightfully, so you did it again. The hand in your hair pressed down to bury your face in her cunt.

“Wicked girl,” she growled, and you moaned against her, your face wet. “Don’t you dare stop now.”

You pressed harder, one hand pushing three fingers at her entrance without any resistance as they slid inside. Your brain wasn’t working enough to keep up the pace of both, so you curled them and pressed against that soft, swollen frontal wall, scratching with the pads of your fingertips.

She nearly howled, a string of soft curses and... were those pleads? Her eyes were screwed shut, and you looked up at her strong, soft body. You couldn’t help but reach down and rub yourself through the fabrics of your clothes with your other hand. 

Eventually she noticed when she opened her eyes again, and she chuckled, making a point of slowly rolling her pelvis into your face. 

“Couldn’t keep your own hands off of yourself?” she said, her voice slurred with arousal. You made a whiny sound, restrained by your tongue and mouth against her cunt.

“I want you to come with me,” she gasped, her thick thighs beginning to shake from approaching her orgasm. You rubbed yourself even harder, eager to do as she said. 

Her usually-reserved voice came out in whimpers and low growls, and you sucked hard at her clit again, pressing your fingers deep inside, and her whole body instantly convulsed. 

Her cries of pleasure and incoherent words of praise made you topple over the edge shortly after. Her well-kept hair was undone, her mascara a little smeared, and her hands were digging painfully into your scalp. She let go once the last tremors left her body, and you relaxed against her thigh, breathing in her smell and kissing her everywhere you could reach.

“Well done, little songbird,” she cooed, eventually managing to open her eyes again and look at you. “You really are too precious for words.”

You blushed. You extracted your hand from between your legs, grimacing a little at the stickiness of your clothes.

“Let’s get you out of those,” Lady Dimitrescu whispered softly. You let her hands lift you up like you weighed nothing, and strip you.

“But- work...” you made a feeble attempt to get up, but she tutted, holding you closely to her chest, your head resting on her breasts. 

“Nonsense. You will stay the night here. You’re in no state to return to your duties yet.” She spoke curtly again, meaning there was no room for argument, but the soft throb between your legs and the haziness of your sated mind already left you limp and jelly-like. You wouldn’t have made it out the door without collapsing even if you did try to leave.

And so, you were bundled up in her arms, the blankets pulled up around your trembling form. She had pulled out a book from her nightstand and let you relax against her body as she flicked through the pages, a quiet peace filling the atmosphere around you. And then you heard it.

With your head pressed against her chest, you heard the rumble of her voice under your ear, and then her soft humming filled the room. You held your breath as you listened to the low, baritone-like notes, and the occasional page flipping of her book. 

You didn’t know the song, didn't know if it came with words, or if she had come up with it right now, but it made your heart flutter. Did she know you were still awake? 

Eventually, a hand came off of the book and pressed on your head, helping you settle against her warmed skin a little more, and then she spoke,

“Sleep, little songbird. There’ll be plenty of times for you to hear me later.”

A/N: It really doesn’t take much to convince me to write more of a series when I love them as much as this one ;) I hope you have ~enjoyed~

[anyoneseenadam]

The Moon Spirit - three

Dorian x reader, Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

Description: When you’re taught to be a queen from such a young age, nothing could go wrong. But when the king starts to fear your growing power you find yourself thrust into a world of faeries, evil magic and powerful men, learning to stand on your own can be harder than it seems.

warnings: Fenrys being cute, badass reader but like a shit ton of angst, allusions to sexual assualt (Fenrys canon stuff), mentions of weapons? idk if that counts

word count: 4.4k

a/n: so this took a while but it’s finally done, please comment it genuienly keeps me going cause it’s super easy to get unmotivated, hope you enjoy <3

——————————————————————————

After he left you, Fenrys begrudgingly found himself back at the palace, bowed on one knee in front of Maeve. She looked cruelly beautiful as always but there was something more sinister sparkling in her eyes today, remaining quiet as he stood back to his full height, meeting her gaze with wavering confidence.

“Who have you been with?” she finally broke the silence and he cursed himself for thinking he could ever get away with that.

“I just walked a young girl home, she was new, and I was afraid someone may take advantage of her if she was alone,” he spoke truthfully, allowing Maeve to push into his mind as she searched for a hidden lie.

He watched as she drew in a sharp breath, something like fear flickering across her face before her tightly drawn lips spread into a wide smile.

“Come here,” she commanded, and he went to stand in front of her, close enough to smell her sickening perfume and to see the flawless texture of her skin. “Do you love this girl?”

He shook his head, no, and she ran a hand down his face in a motherlike way. “Good, you will be recruiting her.” His eyes widened and he had to put his energy into not flinching away.

“What?” he spoke with an incredulous tone and Maeve glared at his lack of respect making him bow his head. “Sorry your majesty, I’m just slightly confused. She was just a young girl and didn’t seem to have any former training.”

“And that’s why I’m in charge, you men are too foolish. That was a powerful girl, and I would rather she remained on my side than any other.” He frowned, powerful? She had seemed kind, lost and strong enough to hold her own – but not powerful.

“I need you to see her again, convince her to join.” Fenrys physically felt the command go through him and he stood taller again, nodding gruffly as she waved her hand in dismissal.

--

Your first few days of work had been harder than expected, and you had gone home with aching muscles from lifting books and sore cheeks from plastering on smiles. Albert had made your days easier, drinking hot tea with you as you slowly revealed more and more about your past to him, his kind, old eyes lulling you into a comforting state.

But you didn’t receive rest when you got home. Ploughing through books on spirits and practicing using the limited magic you had found until the early hours of the morning, getting barely two hours of sleep a night unplagued by nightmares. By your fifth day Albert had handed you a pot of cosmetic product to hide the circles forming, commenting on scaring the customers away as you stuck your tongue out at him but smearing some on regardless.

On the second Saturday after your arrival you had a day off and used it to venture into the market, your empty shelves no longer sustaining you, let alone Amaris. Your basket soon filled with colourful fruits and vegetables, and you were browsing the fish section when a shadow fell over you.

“Let me take that for you,” you turned to see Fenrys standing over you with that same easy smile, his head tilted slightly. You rolled your eyes, trying to block out the feelings expanding in your chest at just the sight of him.

“And here I thought I had lost you,” you muttered, and he laughed, taking your basket from you, and paying for the wrapped salmon you had just been passed. “You don’t need to do stuff like that,” you told him, and he took your arm as he led you out of the market.

“Can’t help myself, I see a pretty girl in need and boom, I have to help.” He joked and you laughed lightly.

“Oh yeah, the damsel in distress disease, I’ve heard that’s a nasty one to cure,” he smiled down at you with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Not really, all I need is a kiss,” he tugged you closer and you squealed, shoving him away as he laughed.

“As I said, nasty.” He dramatically put a hand to his heart, throwing his head back in distress.

“You wound me darling,” he complained, and you laughed, hating how much you genuinely enjoyed his company. You reached your apartment in no time, and he stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to your door.

“So no invitation of tea, a glass of wine, a home cooked meal?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes,

“I’m afraid I reserve that for people I like,” he raised his eyebrows, hopping up the steps two at a time.

“Even if I have genuine cause to talk to you?” he asked and the sincerity in his eyes made a shot of fear run through you. He couldn’t know, could he?

“What is it?” you asked, and he smiled softly, a little pain shining through his loving eyes.

“The queen has a proposition to make.” His voice quietened and you straightened your posture, your entire demeanour switching in a second.

“Come in.” you opened the door and stepped in, allowing him to duck as he followed.

The first thing he noticed was how barren your apartment was, a simple kitchen, connected to a room with a pale blue sofa and worn coffee table. Your shelves were bare, and he sneaked a look into your room as he passed the open door, your mattress on the floor covered by only a thin blanket and a few cushions, one incredibly expensive looking gold dress on the floor, stained dark red. But before he could venture further in he heard you cooing in an impossibly soft voice.

He turned the corner and blanched at the sight he saw, “What the?”

You turned from were you were feeding small bits of salmon to a pure white bundle of fluff that hissed as soon as it saw him. “Amaris, be polite!” you scalded, and he surveyed the cat with a wary look, untrusting of the small creature.

“You have a cat.” He stated, suddenly completely unsure of his taste in women.

“No he’s actually a spider,” you deadpanned and Fenrys pouted.

“But I thought you’d be a dog person,” he complained, and you laughed, moving to throw open the curtains in the room before you started putting away the food you had bought, boiling a pot of water over your stove.

“I just like animals, why does it matter?” you asked, and he threw his arms up before transforming into his wolf form. You gasped and Amaris meowed loudly, scampering to hide behind your legs.

“You’re a wolf.” You stated and he turned back with a smile.

“No I’m a spider,” you flipped him off as you turned to put the rest of your food away.

“I prefer you as a wolf, they’re one of my favourite animals,” you told him and he smiled, sticking his tongue out childishly at Amaris who just sauntered of to doze on a pillow.

“So, what does the queen want?” you asked, pouring the hot water into a pot you had prepared, and he sat down on your worn-down sofa, cringing as it creaked under his weight. You followed suit soon after putting the pot and two mugs down, curling your feet underneath yourself as you looked at him.

“Well, she has told me that you’re actually extremely powerful and because of this she wants to recruit you. She wants you to join the Cadre.” He spoke surely and confidently but his eyes shone with wariness.

“Okay first of all, I’m not at all powerful, secondly how would she even know if I was, which I’m not! And third, what is The Cadre?” he laughed slightly and moved forward to pour himself a cup of tea.

“Well you clearly are because she recognised you and always knows these things, trust me. She’s never wrong about this. And The Cadre is a group I’m in, elite soldiers sworn to protect Maeve.” He explained and you shook your head.

“Fenrys I barely know basic self-defence, I’m not a soldier. And I don’t want to be sworn to royalty.” Your hands were shaking slightly at the thought of being sworn to another tyrant, “Plus in all honesty I only found out I was Fae on Monday, so I’m not exactly well versed in this shit.”

“How did you not know before?” he asked – frowning.

“The country I… come from, there was no magic. The king wiped all magic out years ago.”

“Why?” It was an understandable question but still made you panic, he couldn’t know.

“I don’t know, all I know is he did, so those alike me – with magic but born into a magicless world – never got to know.” You were good at concealing emotions, that much Fenrys could see. You seemed to have iron walls built into the clouds around your heart, protecting it as fiercely as you would Amaris.

“Well, Maeve wants to meet with you soon, so let me know when you decide gorgeous,” he stood, and you smiled at him gratefully for not prying further.

“I’m really sorry Fenrys I just don’t think it’s a good idea. As I said I’m not a soldier.” He nodded but his eyes still conveyed a sense of worry.

“Well keep in mind you would get to train with me, probably shirtless.” He joked as you opened the door for him, grinning when you laughed loudly, shoving him through the door.

“Bye Fenrys,” you said, eyes sparkling as he waved, whistling his way down the street comically.

You closed the door as your smile fell, a weight settling on your chest as you already knew why he looked so wary – Kings and Queens didn’t understand the word no.

--

You practically ran to the library the next day, opting to bring Amaris with you as he peeked out of the small handbag you had found stuffed into the back of your closet. When you flew into the library you instantly sought out Albert, who took one look at your flushed, shining appearance and abandoned the pile of books he was putting away, motioning for you to sit down.

You sat quickly, huffing out a breath as Amaris crawled out of his makeshift home and started exploring the new territory of the small backroom reserved for staff only.

“What bothers you child?” Albert’s voice was steady as always and his dry, warm hands grasped yours gently as your eyes filled with unshed tears.

“I just – I needed to talk to someone,” you stuttered out, your breath coming in harsher pants as he shushed you.

“Take a minute and allow yourself to breathe first dear,” he commanded, and you pressed a hand to your heart as you tried to slow its pounding. “Start from the beginning, tell me what’s wrong.”

“The man I loved, his- his name was Dorian, Dorian Havilliard.” You said quietly and Albert let out a small chuckle.

“I presumed as much, I visited Adarlan once, and an old man never forgets the face of a princess.” You looked at him through blurry eyes, confused.

“You knew?” he smiled sadly at you.

“I was 90% certain, but I would never have pressured you to reveal secrets like that.” He passed you a tissue, “But I sense that’s not all that weighs heavy on you?”

You shook your head, “Queen Maeve has made clear that she wishes me to join the Cadre.”

Albert’s face changed with the clear shock, and you bowed your head, shamefully.

“And what did you say?” he asked slowly.

“No, of course! I don’t have any desire to be another monarch’s puppet.” You stated and he shushed you again.

“You need to remember that people always listen.” He scolded, repeating one of the first things he had told you when you started working. “I agree that you should be cautious, but perhaps gaining the queens protection would be beneficial. Plus you would become an extremely skilled swordsman.”

“I am not a man, nor do I wish to be.” You said through gritted teeth, “And I vowed that I would become skilled on my own and go back to Dorian.”

“Yes but if you join, you will be more skilled than ever before,” Albert reasoned and you shook your head, tears welling up again.

“I thought you’d be on my side for this, you are the one who told me to be careful around powerful people.” You felt unjustly betrayed as he spoke and his shoulders slumped slightly, sighing before grasping your hands lightly again.

“I am dear, and I urge you to do what you think is best. But I am simply reminding you that if you truly want to beat this king you are being offered power on a silver platter right now, and perhaps it would be foolish to deny yourself it.” You let his words run around your head as you worked overtime trying to figure out a plan.

“Say I joined – what do I need to do to ensure I don’t become another puppet?” you asked, and he smiled at you.

“First of all, she will offer a blood oath and you must refuse it with everything you have in you – she came to you remember you hold the power. On that note you must summon all those queenly powers of yours and ensure when you speak to her, she is meeting you and she is trying to win you over. Never the other way around.” You nodded, pocketing the information in your head. “When in the palace you are always being watched, always being listened to, so keep your wits about you. But I’m sure you’re used to that by now.”

You laughed under your breath, “It’ll be just like going home,” you commented, and he smiled.

“Sadly yes, now take this money. Go but a new dress and tomorrow you will take a carriage, you can’t walk there.” You thanked him softly, placing the gold in the purse you held, “You’re a kind girl, that is what makes you strong and that’s what will make you a good queen. Don’t let them take your heart.”

Your throat tightened and you nodded due to the lack of trust you held for your voice, standing, and collecting your bag in one hand and Amaris in the other. Albert stood to take you to the door with a smile, and a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“You can have tomorrow off work as well, however I feel our work together is already coming to an end.” You smiled softly, allowing him to pet Amaris’ head softly before he kissed your cheek gently, ushering you out the door.

“Have a good night Albert,” you said, turning to see him watching you with sorrowful eyes.

“Remember what I told you dear, don’t let them take your heart.” Your smile was sad as you spoke,

“I won’t.” You both heard the lie but, neither of you decided to correct it. Not tonight.

--

Of all the things Fenrys expected to see the next morning, you were the one he hoped for. But as he looked around at the powerful men surrounding the room he felt white-hot panic seize him as he realised what you were about to do. You hadn’t even looked at him when you walked in, keeping your eyes trained solely on Maeve, not even dropping them as you dropped in a low curtsy.

He was even more shocked by the blood red dress you adorned, the v-neck deep and skirts long with a slit up either leg, high enough to reveal the halter you wore with a silver dagger and a ruby encrusted hilt secured into place. Every man, woman and mouse watched as you walked through the room – head high and shoulders back, revealing enough to entrance everyone in the room but covering enough to keep them wanting more and he felt his anger grow as he watched you.

You waited with a soft, but condescending, smile on your face, allowing Maeve to regrasp some power by speaking first – every movement so calculated and precise. As he watched you he saw the power and understood the fear and lust building in the room.

“So I guess you heard my offer.” Maeve finally said, drawling low with relaxed posture.

“I did.” Your statement was short, to the point but you saw it grate Maeve’s nerves and smiled as sweet as spun sugar, “Your majesty.”

“And?” he watched as Maeve grew more agitated and was surprised she hadn’t killed you yet, usually not standing for even an ounce of insubordination.

“I am willing to accept on one condition – I’m not taking a blood oath.” He had to fight jumping in the air with glee as you spoke, so afraid you were going to get tangled in the mess he was in. Maeve’s face grew dark, but you held your ground, never letting your eyes stray lest she see your weakness.

“Well that’s simply not viable,” she stated, glaring you into the ground but you just smiled again, nodding with a polite laugh.

“I see, well this was a lovely meeting, gentlemen.” You raised your hand politely as you moved to leave, your eyes finally flittering over him and the rest of the cadre. You bowed once again to Maeve, making to leave when Maeve raised her hand.

“We are not finished.” She stated.

“Well I’m terribly sorry your majesty but I’ve made my terms extremely clear, and since you refuse to budge - I believe we are done.” Your voice was still sweet, but he watched your face change slightly, every bit a queen looking down upon her people. He couldn’t help but wonder were you learned to speak this way, but Maeve simply laughed.

“Yet here you are,” she spoke with a mocking tone, and you smiled with your teeth this time.

“Need I remind you that you sought me out, if I have terms it should be in your best interest to meet them if you wish me to join your miniature army.” Fenrys heard Lorcan snarl lowly next to him but gripped his arm in warning.

“Oh your training is impressive princess, but I’m afraid it will be of no use.” Your face didn’t budge as Maeve spoke, but Fenrys watched as something flickered through your eyes, “You see, I learn of misdemeanours in other courts very easily and I wish to show you what I learned of Adarlan.”

“There’s nothing you could show me that I won’t have seen before,” you said, and he watched the two of you laugh like you were mingling at a party instead of standing of in a court.

“Oh I’m afraid this is relatively new, you might reconsider your terms after this,” you stood straight as Maeve walked down the steps and moved to whisper something the rest of them couldn’t hear in your ear, her hand pressed lightly to the base of your neck.

She pulled away after a few minutes and he took in your now shaking hands, eyes filled with tears you clearly refused to let fall. You took in a steadying breath before speaking, “You’re lying.”

“Oh I wish I was princess, but I can only show the truth and it appears your prince had moved on rather quickly, what use is there going back to a country where you can no longer rule.” She stroked your hair condescendingly and you chewed the inside of your lip as it quivered. “But here, here – under my control – you have power of your own. Men will no longer hold onto you like a prized pony, you will become something they fear, you will be my perfect princess, the daughter I never got to have.”

Fenrys inhaled sharply, he knew Maeve never planned to relent the throne, especially not to a woman from another country. She looked at you like you were a doll, something for her to reshape and change. You must have seen it to, but through your blurry eyes everything had changed.

“Okay,” your voice was smaller than before, and he wanted to tear Maeve limb from limb for having broken you down so harshly with just a few words. She smiled cruelly at you as she cut a small line along her forearm and you bowed your head in pain, before falling to your knees – graceful even as pain consumed your entire being. You brought your lips to her wound and drank as she repeated the words that he remembered all too well.

When you rose your lips were sparkling red, and your eyes were glistening with tears still unshed – but you raised your head like a queen and Maeve smiled.

“I believe you have already met Fenrys, he will be training you as the training you have received is not proficient, I’ll have all your belongings brought to a room here.” Maeve waved her hand to some guards, but you stopped her.

“I only need Amaris brought here; the rest can burn.” You muttered.

“And for your new wardrobe?” She asked and you smiled looking down, wiping your mouth slowly.

“Make it red.” You finally met Fenrys eyes, and he stepped forward, desperate to drag you far, far away.

“Shall I escort her to her new room?” he asked Maeve and she flitted her eyes to him, then to the hand he had pressed to your back.

“Yes and then afterword’s come find me,” she smiled cruelly at him, and he felt you stiffen under his hand, but he just nodded and began to lead you out of the room.

He led you through the corridors and up the stairs in silence, angry at you for accepting and at himself for not putting up more of a fight. When he reached the room he presumed would be yours he opened the door for you, following you in as you sat on the bed, your usual lightness replaced by the weight on your shoulders.

He watched you bow your head and came to sit beside you, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise; this was my choice.” You said and he reached an arm around your shoulders, but you quickly shrugged him off.

“I shouldn’t, we shouldn’t, if you and the queen are…” you trailed off and Fenrys bowed his head in shame.

“It’s not like that, she, she makes me,” he muttered, and you inhaled sharply, turning to him with those watery eyes.

“I had no idea, I’m sorry,” you whispered, instantly looping your arms around him neck and holding him tight. “She’s a monster.”

Fenrys huffed a laugh, pulling away, “You’re telling me.”

He reached a hand for your face slowly, wiping under your eyes where a tear had escaped, “how did she change your mind?” he asked, dark eyes searching your face for clues as your bottom lip quivered in pain.

“She showed me home,” was all you said, and his shoulders dropped. He would leave it for now, you were young and clearly not ready to speak – and now, they had all the time in the world to speak.

“Sleep tight, training starts at seven tomorrow,” he stood and kissed your head lightly and you nodded, words getting caught in your throat. He left quietly, walking away as quickly as he could to avoid hearing the soft sobs that erupted as soon as he closed the door.

--

You could barely contain your tears until you got to your room, repeating rule thirteen over and over in your head, crying in public is only appropriate at funerals and weddings. But as soon as Fenrys left your room you sobbed into your hands, wailing, and crying like a child throwing a tantrum as you let out the emotions, the screams that have been locked inside of you for so long.

You had done everything for Dorian, changed every part of yourself and become the perfect princess, girlfriend, fiancé – and he, mere weeks after you had to run, was already moving onto a new girl.

As hard as you tried you couldn’t get rid of the image of him and the blonde girl out of your head. How he kissed her softly, his hand on her lower back where it always used to rest on yours. The smile when he pulled away, the way he laughed with her, the way Chaol smiled at his brother when he was happy. You had been forgotten, replaced, almost instantly, the warmth you used to feel when you thought of home, of your princes’ arms replaced by a tight chest and a cold feeling encompassing your heart.

“I’m sorry Albert,” you whispered into the air as you stood looking out on your balcony, gripping tightly to the rail as you feared your legs would give out, “She already took it.”

You were interrupted by a quiet knock on your door, wiping your eyes as you opened it – taking Amaris from the tall guards’ hands as a flurry of women pushed in, filling your drawers with clothes and cosmetics, candles and hair pins, books and plants, a million supplies for Amaris and then some. You smiled politely at them as they left without saying a word, in and out extremely quickly as you stared at a knot in the floor.

Another knock sounded soon after and you turned your head to see one of the Cadre staring in with piercing green eyes. You motioned for him to come in and stood, tilting your head up to meet his gaze as he took in your messy, tear-stained expression.

“You’re the first female member of the Cadre, ever.” He stated and you blinked slowly.

“Lucky me,” your tone was sarcastic, voice rough from the crying but the man smiled.

“I’m Rowan, it’s good to meet you.” He reached out a hand and you met it, allowing him to kiss the back gently.

“(Y/n)” you returned, with a slight curtsey.

“I look forward to fighting with you (y/n),” he stated, releasing your hand and turning to leave, stopping right before he reached the door, “Oh, and don’t lose that dagger, you’ll find a shocking number of men dislike powerful women.”

“First I’m hearing of this,” you deadpanned, and he chuckled.

“Goodluck kid.”

[acourtofsnakes]

Ret'urcye Mhi - Rogue, Chapter 7 | The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (F)

Summary: Can things go back to normal after the Mandalorian saw you break down? Or have walls been torn down that can’t be replaced?

Warnings: Light swearing, I don’t want to give it away but no smut but… a ‘moment’ with some certainly hot thoughts and pining but nothing heavy though, reader has a back tattoo, let me know if I forgot anything!

AN: I have brought in Cara Dune in this, and she will be a frequent character. I by no means condone what Gina Carano did, and I am pleased and relieved that she is gone. However, I do like her character, as many others do. She IS only mentioned in this one briefly but will be a main character in a few future chapters. 

Also, Readers tattoo is loosely based on this design!(link)  I’m not sure who the exact creator is, but it was posted by Urban Threads on Pinterest, but if you know, please tell me! ❤️

Word Count: 8231

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​ @jackgrzs

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl | 5: Kyr’am | 6: Cabur | 7: Ret'urcye Mhi |

Mando’a Translation: Ret'urcye mhi - Goodbye

Neither of you mentioned that afternoon. 

It hadn’t come up in the 3 days since, and it hadn’t come up today. You made sure of it. 

Every time Mando looked at you, and you just felt he was going to mention it, you’d change the subject. Or just walk away. You didn’t need to have that conversation with him. You couldn’t have that conversation with him. Or anyone. 

The Mandalorian had sat there, holding you for the hours it took for you to cry yourself out. When the shuddering sobs had given way to hitched breaths and a numb stare, he’d still sat there. Rubbing your back in gentle circles, in time with Duru’s tail gently swaying over your arm. He hadn’t uttered a single word either, just letting you break down in his arms. 

When the quiet ambiance of the ship and the pressure of his hand had lulled you into sleep, he’d carried you to his bed – well, the narrow cot that jutted out from the wall in what was supposed to be the medical area. He’d given up his sleeping compartment to Grogu a long time ago, to keep the little creature warm and safe. 

He’d laid you in, covering you with the blanket and then one more that he pulled out from a unit. 

You were asleep, so you hadn’t seen the way his gloved fingers gently brushed back the hair from your tear flushed cheeks, the way they’d lingered for a moment as he’d looked down at the soft strands gliding over his fingers. You hadn’t felt the way he’d frozen when a sudden want crashed through him, to yank off his gloves and run his bare hands through your hair, feel the silkiness and the texture for himself. 

And you also wouldn’t have noticed the way his breathing went ragged for a moment and he’d lurched back, stumbling away so quickly he nearly overturned a box on his way out of the door. 

Your sleep hadn’t remained easy. Only a few hours later, you had woken up screaming, unsure of where you were, why you were on a thin cot that smelled like metal and smoke and something distinctly unique and almost like sandalwood. It was somehow comforting, soothing. You had inhaled the scent, trying to calm down your pounding heard and regain control of your breathing.  

It was only when you could suck in a full breath that you realised where you were, who’s bed this was. 

A feeling of gratefulness had crashed over you, only to be immediately wiped out by shame. You had broken down in front of him, spat such awful, awful things to his face.

And when you heard footsteps outside the compartment door, the husky baritone of his voice as he called out your name softly, you’d gone still. Like you were back on the run, mere inches away from a hunter and one move would mean disaster. 

He’d lingered, you could see by the shadows of his feet under the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. A wild thought had come to you, that he had his hand pressed to the door and you could just.. open it. Open it and let him come in, let him carry the burden of your nightmares and your feelings even If it was just for a little while. You could share some of those plaguing thoughts that you’d unleashed today. And he would listen. You didn’t know him that well, but you knew him enough to be confident he would sit there, let you talk. He knew what it was like to be alone, to have emotions and worries that you had no choice to bear yourself. 

The temptation was so strong, you craved that contact and connection so much that you were halfway across the room before your snarling argument came back in full technicolour. The things you’d said to him. The appalling way you’d acted. 

No.

You couldn’t see him. You couldn’t face him after that. After what you had said and the way you had cracked. You shook your head firmly, waiting until you heard a sigh so soft you might have imagined it and retreating footsteps. 

It was only then you that you returned to the bed, pulling the twin blankets up high over your shoulders. 

You’d deal with seeing him in the morning, but for now, all you could do was bury your face in the thin pillow and try not to notice how it smelt like him.

Something had changed between the two of you since that afternoon. He had glimpsed a part of you that you normally kept perfectly hidden, even from yourself. 

…

You were on your way to another bounty, one of the last couple of pucks that Mando had left. 

Mando had mentioned it was a hot, desert planet and he’d prefer it if you stayed in the ship with Grogu. It’d be far too hot for the little guy out there. You had obliged happily, more than fine to stay in. You didn’t like to be too hot, it made you uncomfortable and agitated. 

The cockpit was quiet, a peaceful silence had descended upon it as Mando flew the ship. 

You’d found yourself drawn to watching his hands lately. There was something… oddly soothing about it. Watching him work the controls, hold Grogu, clean his weapons. 

You wondered if he missed the sensation of touch, and then wondered if yours and the kids presence here made it harder for him. Meant he had less chances to take off his armour and be free of it. 

Of course, that had then led you onto the thought of wondering if he slept naked when he was alone. 

The thought of him lying there, nothing hiding him, separating him from the world. 

The thin blankets sliding over the body you knew was toned, yet soft enough in all the right places. 

It made your mouth a little dry, your cheeks a little pink and you struggled to find something else to think about. 

Your eyes drifted to his hands again, remembering the sound of the gloves being drawn off the other night. 

They were mesmerising, agile, and you couldn’t stop thinking about them in your hair, on your skin. 

Stars above, get a grip, girl. 

You mentally scolded yourself for these thoughts, trying to steer your damned imagination onto something more appropriate. 

Luckily, your saviour came in the form of Mando himself. He tilted his head back slightly, enough for you to know he was talking to you, ���What’s your favourite planet? Or one you’d like to visit?” 

The question surprised you, you had to admit. You weren’t used to people asking about your likes and dislikes. You smiled though, perhaps this was his gentle way to break any tension left over. “Hmm… I think… I’d have to say the planet I’d like to visit most... either Hoth or Coruscant.”

Mando laughed, that gorgeous rough, honey laugh, “Okay, Coruscant I can understand, but Hoth? Really?”

You pouted at the back of his head, “Yes!! It sounds beautiful.”

The Mandalorian laughed more, “Beautiful? Sweetheart, it’s covered in ice. It’s freezing there. All you would see is ice and snow… and more ice and more snow.”

You scowled at him now, throwing the leftover wrapper of Grogu’s cookies at his helmet, “And? Snow and ice are stunning. They’re powerful and strong. I’ve only ever been in a proper snowfall once, and I fell in love. The way the flakes float down and.. dance even if there’s the faintest breeze. And then when they land on your skin or your eyelashes like little cold kisses… The sound it makes under your boots when you walk on a fresh fall. And it softens everything, makes it easier on your eyes to see across the landscape… it’s quiet, muffled… Besides, I like the cold.”

Little did you know, Mando was grinning like an idiot under his helmet, adoring the way you defend it to him, the way you describe something as simple as ice and snow. “You like the cold, huh? Then why are you always grumbling that the heating is broken?” The teasing lilt to his voice was evident, so animated and content, compared to his usual cooler, calm silence.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. “That is… completely irrelevant.” You looked at the back of his head, “What about you? If my choices are so hilarious.”

The Mandalorian made a thoughtful noise, “I wouldn’t say there’s one place in particular… But… there’s a few sanctuary planets dotted around. Places with really pretty, dense forests where you could walk for days and not spot anyone else. They’re protected and safe, no dangerous animals or anything allowed… literally sanctuaries. I’d like to take Grogu there… let him wander and have fun and eat things he shouldn’t without having to look over my shoulder.” 

It was the most you’d ever heard him speak in one go, and there was a tenderness in his voice that brought tears to your eyes. This man truly loved his little green adoptive son and would do anything for him. “That sounds... stunning. I’ve heard of those planets and always wondered what they were like...” 

He made a hum of agreement, fingers working over the control panel as he put it in autopilot. “One day…” He turned around in his chair, “What about your favourite colour?” 

You moved to sit cross-legged in the seat, defying the concept of a chair. “Blue. Darker blues, like a midnight blue.” You swayed your chair from side to side slightly, “Actually, the same colour as the cloak you got me. So well done, kudo’s for you.”

Mando leant back in his own chair, tapping the side of his helmet before resting his hands on his thighs again. “This thing lets me read minds; you know.”

You began pulling the pins from your hair, “Mmhm, and I can fly.” You raise an eyebrow at him, grinning. 

He chuckled, watching you intently behind the helmet though you wouldn’t know that, watching every pin get removed from holding up your hair, “It wouldn’t surprise me at this point, princess.” He tapped his thighs absently, “You wanna know the real secret?”

You nodded, reaching in for a pin that had become stuck deep in your hair, the last one. “Surprise me.” Got it. You yanked the pin out, letting your hair fall down and your fingers through it. You sighed a little in relief as you rubbed your fingertips against your scalp, chasing away any tightness from the day. 

Mando didn’t say anything. He was too distracted, to struck into silence by the sight of your hair. 

The light from the ship and coming in through the windows turned some of the strands to gold, igniting them with that fire that blazed within you – and that he’d been on the receiving end. 

His hands tightened over his thighs, because he was overtaken by a craving, a need to remove your hands and feel your hair for himself. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d had these thoughts. 

Fuck, he’d been having these thoughts since he first saw you. He just hadn’t realised them until that night he’d nearly lost his life and woken up to you passed out on his chest. 

He’d frozen, even his breathing stopping as he felt the warm weight of you, even though the armour. 

He couldn’t bear to move you, to take away that pressure, the closeness of another human that he had missed for so long. 

So, he hadn’t. He left you there. Spent hours watching you sleep, the warmth of your breath slightly fogging up the armour on his chest. 

“Lori? Anyone in there?” You tilted your head, watching the man before you that was staring at you intently, his breathing somewhat ragged. 

He startled slightly, coming back to himself, “Huh?”

You chuckled, “Where did you go? I was waiting for you to knock me off my feet with your revelation.”

He made a noise, “Uh… I.. actually can’t remember...” He tugged at his glove, an odd gesture so at odds with his usual confident demeanour. 

You tilted your head, still smiling a little, “Are you okay?”

Luckily, he was saved from answering by the beeping of the controls behind him. 

You’d arrived at the planet. 

~

It was hot. 

Beyond hot. 

The air was warm, the water was warm, you were warm. 

And already awake, having just calmed your breathing down from another nightmare, when you heard Grogu, his little coos and gurgled filtering down the hall to you. 

The poor little creature had probably woken up from the heat. You had been on this desert planet for a couple of days, opting to stay in and look after the Child whilst Mando hunted down the bounty. The days here were scorching, a dry heat that sucked the life from you immediately. Even the nights were hot, unlike normal freezing desert nights. 

Mando had returned this evening, panting from the heat after coming up from the carbonite chamber. “I swear it’s getting hotter out there.”

The cooling system on the Crest was just as temperamental as the heating, so it wasn’t exactly cool in here. The metal floors, which were normally always chilled, were warm underfoot. Mando had let you keep his room, and it was just as hot, being contained in with itself, so you’d been sleeping with the doors open. 

Not that it made a dent. Every single closed space was like a heat trap, especially Grogu’s little compartment. So, no wonder he had woken up. 

You stretched, then slipped from the cot and made your way to Grogu.

It didn’t take long to settle him, he was all tuckered out from the games you’d been playing today, so after patting his skin with a cool cloth, he had fallen back under. 

You were now at the small ‘kitchen’ area in the ship, washing out the cloth. You huffed, splashing some water on your wrists and pulling out the pin that was holding up your hair, and falling out. Grogu had a habit of tugging the ends of your hair in his little fist. 

You’d taken to wearing a thin floaty dress to bed, one you’d picked up in that market before it had turned into a horror show. The material was gauzy, allowing the heat to escape your body without it sticking to your clammy skin. What helped enormously was the large cut out in the back. It secured at the back of your neck, and then fell open, exposing almost your whole back before joining again at the base of your spine. 

It was probably the flimsiest, most sinful thing you’d ever worn, but it was gorgeous and hey, it did the job. 

You rolled your shoulders, pressing the cool cloth to your neck and you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips and you could have sworn you heard a sizzle. 

Footsteps behind you startled you, breaking you from your reverie, and then Mando’s voice filtered through the silence, “Are you okay?”

You turned around, smiling when you saw him because he was still in all his armour… not that you were surprised. He must have been boiling though, under all those heavy layers. 

You nodded, lifting the cloth from your neck, “The kid was awake, but I settled him down, he was really warm.”  

His head was covered, naturally, so you wouldn’t have seen the way his eyes followed a bead of water rolling down your neck, and the unbidden thought of his tongue catching it “Thank you for seeing to him, I didn’t hear..” 

Weird. Normally he was so attuned to Grogu, hearing him before he even woke up if you were sitting together. Maybe he was tired, from his hunting. 

What you didn’t know, couldn’t know, was that he had been staring at the ceiling for the 3rd night in a row. Having thoughts that he should not be having, his body yearning for things it shouldn’t. 

You shook your head, still smiling and turned back to the sink area, “It’s no worries, I was awake anyway so… And you’ve been hunting. You deserve the rest.” You set down the cloth, running your hands through your hair and reaching for your pin to secure it back up. You faced him again, gathering your hair in your hands, “How was it?”

But he wasn’t listening. 

He suddenly moved forward, and then he was in front of you. “Wait.” His voice was low, almost strained. There was a husk to it that hadn’t been there before, but it ignited something within you. 

You froze, your hands still stuck in your hair. You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows slightly, “What..?” It was only now he was right in front of you that you could see his chest, rising and falling rapidly. “Mando, are you okay?”

He shook his head quickly, his helmet tilted down to you, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides, “Let your hair down.” His voice was still that rumbly order, and it was such an odd request that you did just that, letting it tumble back down again. Your own hands trembled slightly as you lowered them. 

A shudder seemed to roll through his body, and he rocked forward on his feet, lurching toward you in a movement that lacked his usual smooth elegance. It was unsteady, unsure. 

He stopped when he was a mere few inches away, the closest you’d been to each other since that afternoon. 

This close, you could practically feel the heat roiling off of him under his armour, and you tilted your head up to meet him, concern in your eyes, “Mando, you need to go and have a cold shower.. You sound like you’re burning up… do you feel flushed?” 

He shook his head jerkily, his hands raising, “Shh… please. I just.. I need to..” He broke off, a sharp intake of air cutting his words. 

Something else began to curl through the worry in your belly, like some instinct knew things you didn’t. You swallowed, your voice low when you next spoke, “You need to what..?”

The Mandalorian was shaking, his body tensing and untensing like he was fighting himself, telling himself not to do this. “I.. I need to touch your hair.” 

Stars, you could feel the flush that crept up his neck and cheeks, like it burned through his helmet but you stayed completely still. 

His words were whispered through gritted teeth, like he was physically trying to bite them back, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-” He sounded like he was in pain, still breathing raggedly. 

Heat flared through your blood, igniting a flame within you that was irresistible. You nodded, letting him see you, “Okay.” Like you could say no to him. 

The vocoder nearly didn’t pick up the huff of relief that escaped his lips and he curled his hands into fists again, “Turn around. And close your eyes.” That rough command was back and you were more than obliging to let him navigate this moment. 

You turned around, facing the kitchen area, looking over the darkened surroundings before shutting your eyes. It immediately threw all your other senses into overdrive, so you could hear every single rasp of his breath as you exposed your skin to him, and the pounding of your own heart. 

“You have to keep them closed. You cannot turn around or look.” There was a desperate plea in his voice, an edge to it that hurt your very soul. He was audibly torn, between his Creed… and this desire that he seemed to have given into. 

You nodded again, aching to reach back and reassure him, “I won’t. I won’t open my eyes or turn around until you tell me, I swear on it, Lori.” You let every ounce of truth and understanding seep through your words, praying that it would be enough to convince him he could trust you. 

Seemingly, it was, because the next noise that you heard could have struck you dead. 

It was the sound of leather rubbing against skin, the friction as they were pulled off, then a soft thump of the material on the floor. 

He had taken off his gloves. 

He was standing behind you… with his hands bare. 

You. A person he hasn’t known for very long at all, and he was partially bare, uncovered. 

Your head exploded, a million thoughts racing through it once, sending your heart into overdrive and your own breathing rapid and unsteady. 

There was a pause, like he was steeling himself and then… then the slightest sensation, like he was catching the ends of your hair, just brushing them. 

That simple movement sent a shiver down your spine, and it was enough to get him to move more. He lifted his hands and then you felt fingers slide into your hair at the back of your head, then slowly, slowly, drag down the length. 

You heard a sharp intake of breath behind you, and then a soft mutter, “It’s so soft..” You barely picked it up, even though the ship was silent. The fingers ghosted through your hair again, and his voice was bewildered, “How do you get it this soft in that tiny ‘fresher..” It was like he was talking to himself. 

You couldn’t help the soft laugh, a release of tension from this whole thing, “I can’t reveal my secrets, Lori. Can’t have your hair being softer than mine. There’s only room for one on this ship.”

He chuckled, and it ran over your bones like honey, dousing them in such a sweet sensation. “I’ll get it out of you one way or another, princess.” 

You rolled your eyes but didn’t get the chance to speak because then his fingers were running up your scalp from the base of your head to the crown, with a light pressure and the feeling was so unbelievably good, that you couldn’t help it. Your head leant back into his touch and the faintest sigh left your lips. “Keep doing that..” Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment crashing over you. Why did you have to say that?

The Mandalorian’s hands had paused, absorbing that soft sigh of pleasure and trying to cool his body. But you had a hold over him, he couldn’t say no. He merely did it again, with a firmer press of his fingers against your scalp, a light scrape of his nails just to get you to make that noise again, to be convinced that you were enjoying this just as much as he was.

You didn’t stop the next sigh, this one louder, more delighted. It was like you knew what the other was thinking, could read each other that well.  

He was driving you insane, rendering you speechless just from playing with your hair. 

You don’t know how long you stood there for, his hands running through the soft locks. 

He lifted it slightly, then made a soft noise. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

A tattoo? Oh right. 

It was true, you did. It was a delicate piece, spanning from the top of your spine to just above your hips, lining your spine. It showed the phases of the moon, drawn in a minimalist style, with small stars and additional lines coming out of every other piece. 

You nodded quickly, “I’ve had it for years.” Fuck, could your voice sound anymore needy?

“What does it mean?” His words were murmured and then the next thing could have had you on your knees. 

You heard a sound that had haunted you since the night he nearly died, the sound of leather sliding over skin. The soft plop as it fell to the floor. 

No way. Has he just..

His fingers, his bare fingers ghosted down your spine, following the line of it with a touch so fleeting it almost made you whine. 

In fact, it did, a whimper rising from deep in your chest. 

He was touching you. 

His bare skin, skin that he had sworn by Creed to keep covered and hidden until marriage, was trailing down your spine as light as wings. 

Pleasure shot straight though you, making your nerves and blood sing, making your knees shake and your belly hot. 

A tug on your hair, a tug that was sharp enough to send a faint tinge of pain through your scalp had you moaning, you couldn’t help it. Your lips parted and the moan fell from them, soft, a little high and drawn. 

Mando swore under his breath, his whole body twitching behind yours, “I asked you a question, sweetheart.” There was a hoarseness to his voice that hadn’t been there before, a straining note like your moan had shot right through him. Which is had. 

What does it mean… what does it mean? Focus!!

“Um… right. When I was on the run, initially in the beginning, I never had a place to call home. Everything I knew had been torn away, and I could never settle anywhere. Every night, I would look up into the sky and watch the moon. No matter what planet I was on, no matter where I was, or if there two moons or 4, it was always there. I only had to look up, and there was something up there to ground me, give me some sense of comfort. It might look smaller, or be a different colour, but it was still the moon. And it made me feel… safe. Like it was a… a companion in a way. I just had to look a little closer, beneath the colours or the distance and there it was. It was always in the sky, so I wanted to get it tattooed so that it would always be with me. No matter if I was outside, as free as I could be, or inside and trapped.” You flushed a little, “That probably makes no sense and sounds so stupid.”

You could sense the Mandalorian shaking his head, his voice still low and soft, “No.. I think it’s beautiful. And I get it. I move around so much too, there’s only a few things that always remain the same. So I know the value of having something familiar.” He ghosted his fingers down it again, trailing all the way down to where the cut out portion of your dress stopped and then back up again. 

When his hand reached the top of the tattoo, he slid it up further, cupping the back of your neck in his broad, warm hand. 

It sent electricity shooting across your skin, that blazed as he wrapped his thumb and fingers around either side of your neck, just a gentle pressure there. 

You moaned again; you didn’t even try to hide it. Your head fell back, exposing your throat to him in a sign of instinctual submission, even though you knew he wouldn’t kiss you. You didn’t mind, you just needed more, more than this teasing touch, more than the faint brush of his fingertips. Your chest shuddered, knuckles white as you gripped the counter in an effort to stay still, “Lori…” You whined his name, hoping it would spark something in him, would force him to do something. 

You felt him shudder again, felt his hips draw back from your body like he was trying to hide just what these noises did to him. 

Fuck. 

It burned you, turned your belly molten and the power that washed over you was heady. You had turned him on just from your hair, your skin and your moans. 

The voice that came out was equally as tight, husky and you might have lived and died inside the low baritone “What is it, princess?”

Your fingers curled around the side of the counter in front of you, and you were glad he couldn’t see your face when you whispered, “Please..”. Your voice was low, pleading and aching. 

You felt him shudder behind you, a tiny groan echoing through the helmet.

His next words nearly undid you there and then, “Like I could say no to you.”

Then his fingers pressed into your spine, caressing down your back over the tattoo with such admiration, such warmth that it arched slightly, chasing more of that sensation. 

Your head was spinning, convinced you were dreaming, that this wasn’t real. 

This didn’t happen between you both. 

You flirted, sure. But that was harmless, playful. 

This… this was real. He was letting you feel his bare skin, uncovered and unhidden. 

And it was tearing you apart. 

The scrape of his thumbnail on your skin tore you from those thoughts, ripped you back to the present as it ran down the curve of your back. If your eyes had been open, they would have rolled into the back of your head. 

Your head fell forward, back arching completely into him and the sound that you let out was sinful. You could only concentrate on the that sharp, pleasurable hurt that you felt in your belly, the feeling of his other hand as it held your shoulder, holding you in that arch. 

Heat pooled low in your belly, and every dream, every thought you’d been trying to suppress about him came blasting into full technicolour. All because of his hands. 

Those damn hands you’d been pining over since saving his life. 

His head was so close over your shoulder that you could hear the low pant of his breath, the coolness of his armour barely brushing your shoulders as you pressed back into him. 

Fuck, did he want this as much as you did? 

By the way his hand tightened, he had to. You didn’t know how you knew it, but you did. 

You swallowed, licking your lips to say something, anything, spur him on but a harsh beeping suddenly broke through the thick tension on the room. A light was flashing, and by the time the fog of pleasure cleared in your head, he was gone. 

Gloves picked up and yanked on, boots disappearing up the ladder into the cockpit to check on the autopilot. 

The taut sensation in your body snapped, making you sink to the floor as though the strings had been cut.

You lifted shaking hands to your face, burying them in them with a low noise. Your head was a mess, you couldn’t get over it. Couldn’t stop feeling his fingers on your back, your hair. Hear the ragged pant of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against your shoulders. 

It was just touch, just the simple act of touch but it had igniting something so fierce within you. 

Something had changed. 

What the fuck was that?

You sat there on the floor for Maker knows how long, before dragging yourself up and hurrying off in search of a very, very cold shower. 

~

You weren’t quite sure how to face him the next morning. 

You had taken your cold shower, and it had done nothing to cool the fire in your blood so you had to take the initiative, hoping the crash of the water and the fact you were biting down the back of your free hand would cover the desperate moans you made. 

Little did you know, the Mandalorian was going through the exact same thing, back arched, lips biting into his lip to stop the groans. 

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, stop thinking about what had occurred between you. 

Surely it broke some kind of rules of his Creed?

He had touched you with his bare skin. You weren’t married. You weren’t together. You didn’t even know his name. 

Yet he had touched you and.. reacted to you. 

Maybe that was just instinct, his body’s natural response to such things. 

But he had carried on… until you were disturbed anyway. 

Your head went round and round in these circles until your body had calmed down enough to sleep. 

…

You rose early, wanting to be washed, dressed and ready and doing something to occupy you before you had to think too much about what you were going to say.  Maybe just… Good morning?

Sure. Good morning was fine. 

Normal. 

It totally didn’t reveal what you’d had to do in the shower, or the thoughts you were still having about it. 

You had this discussion with yourself all the way up the ladder of the cockpit, and when you rose to your height, you blurted it out in a cheery voice before you could bail, “Morning!”

Breezy. Nailed it. 

The Mandalorian was sitting in the pilot’s chair, fiddling with controls and levers, gloves firmly on. “Good morning. Did you sleep okay in the heat?” 

You nodded, sinking down into the pilots chair and feeding Duru a treat, “Yes, thank you. Finally.” You stroked under Duru’s chin, your eyes straying to those hands as he slide them over some switches. 

The same hands that had cupped the back of your neck and trailed fire down your spine. 

A flush started to creep along your cheeks, so you quickly looked away, “Did you?”

The light bounced off of his helmet as he nodded, “Yes, thank you.”

Polite. His words were polite. Almost... distant. 

Okay… Okay, so maybe he just feels awkward?

You bit your bottom lip, worried if you should say something. 

No, leave it. He no doubt feels over-exposed and maybe shy about what happened last night. Don’t bring it up. Just act normal.

You nodded faintly to yourself and returned your attention back to Duru. 

~

Mando was ignoring you. 

You had been trying to deny it, but he most certainly was. 

Yesterday, he had engaged in talking to you now and then throughout the day, but only passing comments and a few spare words. 

You had spoken more when you were beating the shit out of each other. 

You kept telling yourself that it was just lingering awkwardness from how to go back to normal after that night, but the gnawing in your gut told you otherwise. 

It had been shouting at you this morning when he had parked the ship on a planet, announced he was going hunting and he’d be back in a few hours. 

Then he’d just gone. 

You had waited for him all day, mooched around the ship, played with Grogu and Duru and tried not to worry. 

You sat up for hours, even when the little ones had gone to sleep, waiting to talk to him. 

You’d convinced yourself that you should talk about. You should tell him you didn’t expect anything from him. That you didn’t hate him, that he didn’t hurt you or anything like that. 

Just to tell him whatever you needed to stop this frostiness. 

You had it all planned, had every phrase and comment worked out to stop this atmosphere. 

About 15 minutes ago, you’d heard the ramp open. 3 minutes after that, the hiss and echo of the carbonite chamber. 

Then you’d heard him go and check on the kid, then go to his quarters. 

And now, it was his booted feet on the steps to the cockpit that held your attention. 

You took a deep breath, prayed to the Maker and spun your seat to face him as he rose up. 

The mere sight of that beskar-clad body set your heart thumping, but you coaxed an easy smile on your lips anyway. “Hey, how was the hunt? Cause you any trouble?”

Mando didn’t turn his head to look at you, just padded over to his seat and spun it to the control panel, “It was fine. Easy.” His words were clipped, not harsh, just… efficient. Straight to the point. 

You swallowed, your courage faltering a little. 

Mentally, you scolded yourself. You didn’t falter in the face of a man who’d touched you and now wouldn’t talk to you. You didn’t whimper and pander to a tense atmosphere. 

You sat up a little straighter, pulling your shoulders back and you looked over at him. 

Now or never. 

“About the other night-”

“I’m taking you to Nevarro.”

What?

You had both spoken at the same time, your eyes now bewildered as you beheld him. “What?”

He said nothing, just fiddled with some controls. 

“Mando, what do you mean?” Your voice was shocked, but steady. Did nothing to betray the shock that had just hit your chest like a punch. 

You didn’t hear him swallow, only heard his words, “I’m taking you to Nevarro. We’re on the way now.” He said them softly, evenly. 

Hearing it again only made your heart drop to somewhere around your waist. 

He was leaving you. Dumping you on some planet. And going. 

Your hand tapped your leg as sort of nervous habit, and then the words were out, “Is this because of the other night?” 

It was his turn to sound bewildered, his head just turning to the side, but you knew he couldn’t see you in his peripheral, “What? What do you mean?” 

Your heart was starting to beat uncomfortably in your chest, a sense of shame beginning to creep over you, “Because of what happened in the kitchen. I didn’t see you, I didn’t see your skin.”

Mando turned to face you, one hand still on the panel, his hair half turned but head rotated all the way to look at you, “No, no it’s not because of that-“

You cut him off, “You didn’t… you didn’t offend me. Or hurt me. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry if.. if my reaction made you feel awkward or think something. I don’t.. I don’t expect anything from you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I never have, so please don’t think that.” You flushed, the shame colouring your cheeks. You couldn’t help it. But this was the reason, right? The only reason why he would be dumping you. 

He shook his head, “Stop. Stop..” His voice softened slightly, “No. It’s not because of… that. I know you didn’t see me. And I know you don’t expect anything from me.” He took a breath, “I’m taking you to Nevarro to keep you safe. That’s all. I have friends there, Cara Dune and Greef Karga. They’ll look after you. They’ve already set up accommodation for you, so you don’t need to worry about that. 

They already knew? 

Something like hurt flashed in your eyes, colouring your tone, “They… You already planned this..?” There was no bite in your voice like you would normally have in this situation, you were too shocked by the sudden change in direction your journey was taking. 

Mando tilted his head, “I contacted them whilst I was on the hunt… I wanted it set up before we got there, so you wouldn’t stand out to anyone looking.” He still looked at you, “Is that okay?”

You sensed you wouldn’t have a choice in this. So you decided to take the high road. You wouldn’t whine about this. 

You smoothed your expression over into a mask of calm, “Yes… I was just a little surprised that’s all. But thank you, really. I’ll… set about packing my things.”

He sounded confused, his head tilting back to watch you rise from your chair, “We have a couple of days yet.”

You nodded, “Oh, I know, I just want to make sure I have everything. And all the things I want to steal from you.” You laughed, even going so far as to nudge his shoulder before escaping. 

You were gone to quickly, so you wouldn’t have seen the way he slumped in his chair, dropped his head into his hands. You wouldn’t have heard the pained sigh that escaped his lips at the thought have having to part with you. 

~

~

~

The Mandalorian stood at the top of the ramp with you, staring out across the dusty, volcanic terrain of Nevarro. Your new home for… however long. 

You said nothing, running your fingers along the edge of your cloak, observing the landscape and trying not to let any emotion show on your face. You had kept up natural conversation the past few days. Saying nothing of the wrenching pain that tore in your chest every time you remembered you were departing. 

Mando cleared his throat, one arm holding Grogu and the other hand resting on his hip in a gesture that was becoming painfully familiar, “Cara and Greef know you’re coming. They’ll be waiting in Cara’s office for you.” 

Grogu was sulking, squirming every now and then to try and get out of Mando’s grip. He had screamed the whole morning, and only calmed down when you hugged him and sung to him on the way here. 

You nodded, also trying to ignore the thoughts swirling round in your mind as to why he was leaving you here. Was it because of your argument? The way you had broken down in front of him? Or was it because of the other night? The way his fingers had run through your hair, and then trailed down your spine, mapping your tattoo. His bare fingers. The things he’d whispered to you, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-”

“I’ve been thinking about this for days..”

Had he known then that he was going to leave you here? Or was it after that, that he’d decided he had broken one too many rules and had to get rid of you. 

Words floated over to you, and you realised he was talking again so you hauled your attention back to the conversation at hand. 

“-safe here. No one will come looking for you. Greef has taken all the pucks that have come through with your name on them and Cara will do sweeps every couple of days to make sure.”

You looked down at your feet, a bitter feeling leeching through your veins that was getting stronger with every moment you got closer to leaving the Crest. 

“Hey… look at me..” 

It was that honey softness of the Mandalorian’s tone that finally had you looking up at him, your expression perfectly masked to hide every ounce of emotion in you aside from a calm neutrality. 

He tilted his head a little, turning his body toward you, “Please don’t think I’m dumping you here. I had planned to bring you here since I destroyed the puck and the fob.”

Like that made you feel any better. 

He must have read the flicker in your eyes, because he stepped closer, his hand lifting to your upper arm, “I want you to be safe.” You could almost feel his eyes boring into yours, “I am more than grateful for everything you’ve done for me. And the kid. More than you’ll ever know. But, travelling with me.. it only increases the target on your back. People know you’re with me. I don’t want that for you.. you deserve to be free..”

And what about what I want?

You only smiled, forcing your expression to one of a lighter one and you nudged him gently, “Hey, I get it. You have to get rid of me because I’m showing you up on hunts. Can’t have anyone destroying your infamous reputation.” You rolled your eyes, laughing even if it did send daggers into your heart. 

And his. 

He squeezed your shoulder playfully, then dropped his hand. “You’re hilarious. I told you, the day you beat me is the day the stars implode.” You could feel a line of humour in his voice though, and it softened your shoulders, made you relax. 

He was doing this to keep you safe. He had planned this for weeks so you could have a break, a chance to rest. 

So, you lifted your head a little higher, your smile becoming more real. “Thank you, Mando. For everything. I can’t ever repay you for this, for what you’ve done.” You motioned to the outside. 

He nodded, his hand resting at his sides again now, “We’ll call it even.” His head remained focused on you, lingering on you and then he reached into a pouch and held out his free hand, “Here.”

You let him drop the objects in your hand, a small stack of credits. 

“It’s not much, I know, but it’ll be enough to get you some food and supplies you need. You don’t need to worry about a place to stay, Cara will show you but… You can get what you want and need.” He withdrew his hand slowly, almost reluctantly.  

You swallowed, closing your hand around the credits and you slipped them into the pocket inside your cloak. “Thank you..”

The Mandalorian merely nodded again, leaning back against the threshold of the ramp, his thumb absently rubbing circles on Grogu’s belly.  

It seemed that there was nothing else to draw this goodbye out, so you took a breath, straightening your cloak. “Well… I guess I’ll say goodbye then.” You looked up at him, then stuck out your hand for his, realising only a few seconds later how dumb that was. 

Before you could pull your hand back, he reached out and clasped your hand in his own, wrapping his fingers around your distinctly smaller hand. “Goodbye… princess.” You heard the smirk in his voice, and you couldn’t help the chuckle and the eye roll again, not failing to notice the way his hand tightened involuntarily and then withdrew. 

You looked at Grogu in his other arm, who was still avoiding looking at the pair of you, wriggling in his father’s arms. You bent down to draw your face to his level and you stroked his ears, “I’ll miss you, little guy. Make sure to keep your dad on his toes, okay? You gotta make up for both of us now.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, feeling his little hand pat your cheek with a mournful noise. Tears burned the back of your eyes, so you leant back, instead picking up Duru so she could say goodbye. 

Grogu cooed sadly again, stroking Duru’s cheek, looking up at her with his glossy eyes. 

You let Duru but her head against him, chitter a goodbye and then you stepped back, allowing her to climb up your shoulders as you looked up at Mando. 

You just watched him for a moment, his armour reflecting the light on one side and then, with a soft inhale of courage, you turned and walked down the ramp, Duru padding at your feet. 

You had only just cleared the ramp, stepping onto the hard, compacted ground when Mando called out, “Wait.”

You turned quickly, hope blooming in your heart, in your expression though you tried to stop it. 

He had made a step onto the ramp, body poised like it was trying to run to you but he was holding back. He hesitated, almost as if he were torn with what to say – or what not to say, but all that came out was, “Ret'urcye mhi.”

You couldn’t help the shiver that licked down your spine, the way his voice turned into dripping honey when he spoke Mando’a. “What does that mean..?” You prayed he couldn’t hear the slight hoarseness to your tone.

He tilted his head down to look at Grogu, then lifted it back up to you, “It means goodbye…. And maybe we’ll meet again..” 

Your heart swelled a little, a flush of pain going through it but you smiled softer, your expression melting and you inclined your head slightly, “I would like that.. very much…” 

There were a million other things that threatened to roll off your tongue, pour from you but before they could, you turned around, walking toward the town and feeling his eyes on you the entire time, burning into the back of your head like a fiery brand. 

You were about 4 metres away when you heard Grogu start crying, when your own tears broke through and spilled down your cheeks. You kept walking, even when your vision began to blur and go fuzzy.

So you didn’t see the way Mando hugged Grogu closer, whispered, “I know, kid, I don’t want her to go either.”

You’d be okay. It would be fine. 

So you and the Mandalorian were parting. It was no big deal. You had helped each other; you had returned each other’s debts. You owed each other nothing. 

The sound of engines whirring filtered into your ears, and you waited until you heard the Crest lift from the ground before turning round. 

You paused, wiping your cheeks as the ship that had become a haven of sorts lifted into the sky. It hovered for a second, as if hesitating and then shot up higher, taking with it the two people that you had come to mean more to you than you realised. It felt like the Razor Crest had taken your heart with it. 

How comes you hadn’t realised before how much they meant?

Too late now.

You remained watching the sky, long after the ship had vanished into the atmosphere. 

With a shuddering breath, you wiped your cheeks. You kissed Duru’s tail, and then returned to walking toward the town. 

You’d be okay… right?

Previous chapter| Next chapter

[amysteriousmessenger]

‘As The World Falls Down’ - ‘Danger’ Ray x Reader Fic

Based lightly on ‘As the world falls down’ from Labyrinth, Reader attends a midnight ball, but all is not as it seems. 

Word count: 3.4K Rating: SFW CW: Elixir, drugs, cult behaviour, creepy Ray, forced Elixir Reader: Gender neutral Disclaimer: this isn’t how I actually think the Elixir would affect someone but I wanted to keep the fairytale aspect to the story!

Reblogs appreciated!! <3

_______________________

‘You’ll drink it, right? And then you can stay here with us forever. We’ll never have to be apart.’ Ray said, the blue bottle sitting between his half-gloved hands. He seemed nervous, but eager for you to have it. You’d already told him that you wanted to stay at Magenta and be a part of Mint Eye with him, hence he had brought you the Elixir that everyone was required to take to cleanse themselves. You wanted to stay, but you had seen the effect that the liquid had on Ray, but you were a little bit tentative to actually put it to your lips.

You’d grown such tenderness and genuine affection for Ray, and you were leaving behind a life that you didn’t really care for, so why would you not want to stay in Mint Eye? You nodded, reaching out your hands to take the bottle from him. He smiled, but the smile did not match the emotion in his eyes. There was a sweetness to his lips, but an intensity and darkness to his gaze that was… unsettling to pinpoint.

‘A-ah… It won’t hurt, right?’ You asked, taking a seat on the side of your bed. The colour reminded you of those sugary isotonic drinks that you saw teenagers drinking outside of schools or on the weekend, but you were certain that it was not the same liquid.

‘Maybe just a little…’ He started, ‘but I’ve flavoured it to taste like peaches, just for you. You’ll be happy with us, a place where you can truly belong. Don’t you want to stay with me? To feel held?’

You did. Though you’d come here by chance, you’d found people who longed to feel loved and needed. The life you’d left behind was nothing compared to the one that could lay ahead for you, and yet, why were you so scared to take the final plunge?

‘Okay…’ You took the heart-shaped bottle from him. You watched Ray as you uncorked the bottle, feeling somewhat as though you were about to drink the poison from a fairytale or a movie. But of course, surely this Elixir was nothing like that. Ray wouldn’t do that. That smile of his meant no harm. He cared for you and wanted you to stay with him at Magenta.

The first thing you noticed after opening the bottle was the heavy scent of peaches, Ray really must have poured a lot of nectar into the Elixir to cover up its original smell, which burned your eyes. Perhaps smelling it wasn’t the best idea. Perhaps drinking it wasn’t the best idea. You were hesitant, but it was the only way you would get to stay with him. You took one more glance at Ray, who stood in front of you smiling in all his princely attire, before pressing the bottle to your lips.

Instantly, the Elixir overwhelmed all of your senses. Though it was seeped in peach flavourings, it did little to cover the burning sensation it left in your mouth and throat. It was like drinking nail varnish remover, or pure gasoline. It hurt. You choked, spluttering slightly into the back of your hand.

Ray handed you a glass of water, smoothing out your hair and assuring you that the pain will pass. It was all part of joining Mint Eye. You had to purify yourself of the person you were before you entered Magenta. It had to happen in order to find true salvation with the Savior. You continued to choke on the liquid as you felt it hit your stomach. Did Ray… really drink this every day? How was he even still standing? No wonder he looked so ill all of the time.

The longer it was in your stomach, the worse you started to feel despite Ray’s reassurances that you would be okay.

‘Ray, I don’t feel too good, I think I’m gonna…’ You barely finished the sentence before your head started to spin. Your eyelids fluttered shut in an attempt to ground yourself and focus on sitting upright, but to little avail. You began to fall back onto the bed, but your head never hit the pillow, so that the last sensation you felt before the slumber took over you was the sensation of Ray’s hand supporting your neck and shoulders.

‘I have you, my Princess. I’ll never let you fall…’ He whispered as you began to lose consciousness. He mumbled something else that you couldn’t quite make out, but it sounded awfully like ‘For anyone else.’

-

You woke up, or at least you think you did. Nothing was real, and yet, it had to be. You were already on your feet, being guided down the maze of corridors. Everything was a daze, and it felt as though you were dreaming, yet you could have sworn that the footsteps you were taking felt undeniably real. Illuminated only by the cloaked men carrying candles, you caught a glance of yourself in a mirror on the wall and gasped. You hadn’t really had the chance to process much since regaining your consciousness. It hadn’t occurred to you that the clothes you fell asleep in were not the ones you had woken up in.

The dress was huge: white and crystallised. It was something from a fairy-tale, beautiful from everyway you turned. As soon as you realised you were the one wearing it, you couldn’t believe you had missed it in the first place. It took up the entire lower half of your vision with its endless layers of silk and satin. You paused at your reflection, trying to take in as much of the detail as you could in the dim lighting. The sleeves were great cream-puffs of fabric and the tight corset held your torso rigidly in place. At any other time, you might have complained about the confines of a corset, but it felt as though it was holding you together as you lost grip on everything else around you. The dress was somewhat bridal, but the princess aesthetic far outshone that of a matrimony. You carried your eyes upwards, giggling slightly as your face warped in the mirror and you pawed at the heavy necklace that sat over your collarbones.

Your hair had been done too, littered with small star pins which sparkled against the mirror. Those weren’t yours, you didn’t own anything like that, so how had you come to get them? In the haze of half-consciousness, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you reached a wavy hand up to tap your fingertips along the hair pins, as though to make sure that they were really there. They certainly felt real, but nothing felt real. The textures were all wrong, the colours too bright. There were so many of them and they were so beautiful that you wished you could take them out of the dream with you whenever you woke up.

A cough resonated from behind you, it was the cloaked Believers who had been leading you through the corridors. They did not raise their eyes to meet you, but stared downwards as the one on the left said; ‘Your presence is greatly anticipated.’

‘Who?’ You asked, bewildered as to the fact they were talking to you. For some reason, you had assumed that they couldn’t speak. Were they real?

‘Yours.’ The other one deadpanned.

‘Me? Mine?’ You responded, confused.

‘Yes.’

‘Oh.’ Well, they must have been real! You stumbled slightly over the front of the dress as you moved to follow them. You hadn’t even thought to ask where you were going. Really, it hadn’t even occurred to you that there was a destination, you had simply found yourself walking with them and continued on the journey they had been leading you on.

They brought you to a pair of heavy, ornate doors. Some thought lost within your brain told you that you recognised the door, but you couldn’t find the connecting memory to remember where the doors led to. You attempted to ask them but found that your reverie had taken your voice. You swallowed thickly and remained silent until the door opened. They ushered you in with a ‘For Paradise’ before leaving.

The sounds of life were the first thing to reach your diluted senses. Bursts of music unlike those you had heard within Mint Eye before reached your ears. It was rich, elegant music only achieved with live instruments and talent. It was overwhelming to have so many of your senses assaulted at once, so it took a few moments to gather your bearings. Your eyes began to focus on the surroundings and you slowly realised you were in Magenta’s throne room. Yet, you had never seen so many people gathered in here. The room of people seemed to dance and spin, mingling in their cliques and couples. Masks of all told tales of trickery, of lust, wealth, and status but few bore of identity or name. There were so many masked faces, with each masquerade domino covered in a thin layer of black crushed velvet which absorbed any of the light cast upon it. You were the only one without a mask, yet you had not woken up with one so you could not be to blame for the feeling of exposure. At least, that was what you told yourself as each masked face followed your shaky steps.

A blonde woman smiled at you, offering you her hand. Her mask was slightly different, your eyes were a little too fuzzy to make it out, but it looked as though she had a little decorative side pieces and sequins, setting her apart from the other guests. You knew her, but you could not place exactly how in that moment. Her warm smile made you want to trust her, so you had no reservations in taking her outstretched hand and following her lead. The blonde woman pulled you through the crowds as they parted for her with each step she took. They parted even before she got near to them, making sure she had plenty of space to walk through. You had to watch your feet as they walked so you didn’t stumble over the both of you, consciously kicking the front of the dress so the material didn’t drag along the floor.

‘Ray… You shouldn’t leave her lost like this. I don’t want to see my lambs running astray.’ The blonde woman said as she suddenly stopped walking.

‘You’re right, my Savior… It won’t happen again.’

That voice. Despite your delirium, you knew that voice. Ray.

You had no control over your own movements but watched as the woman moved your hand from hers to Rays. She seemed satisfied with the exchange and, before returning to the party, added; ‘See to it that it doesn’t.’

‘Y-you look beautiful. I chose your dress myself; I hope it is to your liking.’ He stuttered slightly, though tried to feign the confidence of his Prince Charming aesthetic. You followed his voice upwards until you reached his face and notice that he was also wearing one of the black masks. Like the blonde woman, Ray’s domino was a little different to the others: it was the same black velvet but this time it was stitched with the same silver thread that adorned your dress. The small stitches swirls along the right-hand side of his mask, occasionally catching the light when he turned.

He looked at you with such intensity that your felt your heart begin to race. Cinderella had found her Prince.

You opened your mouth to try to reply to Ray, but your voice had yet to return so no noise actually managed to make its way past your lips. He smiled, seemingly understanding the fact you couldn’t speak. Perhaps that was why he was smiling.

You noticed that the music had changed, and people had started to dance in couples with one another. Ray seemed to notice it too, but he did not look surprised. If anything, he seemed expectant. Ray turned and picked up a small flurry of flowers from the table behind him. Oh, what was the word for that? A cottage…? College…? Corsage? Corsage! You were glad to have found the correct word as Ray tentatively slid the flowers onto your wrist and tightened the ribbon. He hummed along to the new song, watching with pride as he watched you inspect the flowers.

‘I chose them from the garden just for you. Would you like to know what they are? These are red roses, which symbolise longing and desire. Those ones are Jonquil, they are like very small Daffodils and there are many of them as My Savior favours Daffodils, so I keep them in the garden. They mean reciprocation of affection. I find them rather sweet; they grow in clusters and yet… they yearn for love…’ He trailed off, lightly tapping the petal. ‘Finally, these ones are yellow Hyacinth, in Floriography the meaning differs depending on the colour, but these ones… They mean jealousy.’

Ray didn’t really give you the time to mull over the meanings he had told you before he once again swept you up with a different conversation.

‘My Princess, might I have this dance?’ Ray bowed, smiling with one arm crossed over his chest in a princely manner. You nodded, giggling at a somewhat over-dramatic curtsey you had attempted to do. My, what an idyllic dream! You didn’t wake to wake up, reality would never be as sweet.

The Ray you knew was never usually so calm, collected. You knew him as a nervous, over exhausted, and a little bit flustered. The Ray of your dreamy reverie was more calculated in his movements.

Ray’s gloved hand took your bare one and the other slipped around your waist. You’d never attempted to ballroom dance, but little mattered in an illusion such a this, so it wouldn’t matter if you were to miss a step or two. You placed your hand over Ray’s shoulder and lifted the arm he was holding to match his stance.

There's such a sad love Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel Open and closed Within your eyes I'll place the sky Within your eyes

A space parted for the two of you on the dancefloor as you noticed people seemed to move for Ray in the same manner that they did for the blonde woman. Ray seemed a little bit nervous to lead, but his grip on your hand told you that he was determined to keep you in his arms regardless of whether he knew the steps confidently or not. Knowing Ray, he had memorised them again and again.

Through his mask, his blue eyes were dedicated to your face, neck, and the enveloping of your hand and his. It was as though he couldn’t get enough of the sight of your hands intertwined like that together. You felt the hand on your waist begin to guide you gently as he took one step forward, then another back: pulling you with him in beat to the music.

You lost yourself to your thoughts and to the music. He looked like a prince and- did he say he had picked your dress himself? He had dressed you like a princess. It seemed fitting, since he already claimed you to be one, and had decorated your room as though you really were one. His own personal Princess. You had to be dreaming, nothing that felt so beautiful could ever truly be real. You had to wake up at some point or another.

There's such a fooled heart Beatin' so fast In search of new dreams A love that will last

After a moment, you had to snap yourself out of your own thoughts and focus on being led. Ray had indeed memorised the steps to the dance, and apparently had memorised your steps too since he guided each movement of yours, possessing your body in the dance as though it was one with his own.

He spun you around, grinning as he watched you spin again and again, as though you were just a small Ballerina in a decorative music box: dancing on command whenever the box was opened. Ray pulled you in to a dip, holding on to your back and not really letting you support yourself, which you did not mind. It was hard to control your own weight in dreams, everything felt so weightless and floaty that you somehow praised your own illusion for making everything seem so realistic. Within your heart I'll place the moon Within your heart

Slowly, your stomach began to churn. Maybe in your dream, you were still not one for dancing. You felt as your breathing got a little heavier by the moment as the colour started to drain away from the room. People were no longer dancing happily in beat as they had once done, they stood; scared and tense, watching as you turned to face them one by one. They were masked and cloaked, for sure, but they were not enjoying the party. They were moving closer.

The grand music you had heard was no longer playing, and the weightlessness you felt turned to breathlessness as you felt the true tightness of the corset around your waist. The heaviness of so many layers of satin, lace, and silk grounded you to the floor and made it impossible to move, let alone run, like your feet were willing you to do. Cinderella would not leave the ball tonight.

You had to ask Ray, he wouldn’t lie to you… Would he? This was your dream; you could control what happened! Why was it turning into a nightmare?

As the pain sweeps through Makes no sense for you

‘R-Ray… What’s going on…?’

Ray’s face suddenly changed. He broke off the dance and stood still for a moment, watching as you tilted your head in confusion and a glimmer of fear. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the same blue liquid you had drank before falling asleep. You shook your head, not wanting to feel the sickness that came with such a commitment. He seemed both disappointed and dissatisfied with your reluctance. You couldn’t stop the shaking that had started, heavy tremors that wracked your body to the bone.

‘Ray… did you not use the correct dosage? See, look how the poor child suffers. You don’t want to make her leave, do you Ray?’ The same blonde woman from earlier said. You frantically turned, looking to find her face, but she was just a faceless voice in the blurring crowd.

‘No, my Savior.’ Ray said, grabbing one of your wrists. He didn’t squeeze tighter than necessary, but it was more than apparent that you were not escaping his grip any time soon. There was a desperation to it.

‘Then do it like I instructed you.’ She said. Ray swallowed and nodded, popping open the cork to the bottle with his freehand and pressing it against your lips.

Every thrill is gone Wasn't too much fun at all

It took a moment of coughing and spluttering for the wrongs to right themselves again, as Ray took the bottle away from your lips. The overwhelming flavour of peaches filled all of your senses and choked you. Whoever said that peaches were a symbol of family and unity had never taken a bite of one so infected. The sweetness was a danger in itself, it hid the darkness laying within. Sugar-coating it. You hadn’t noticed the burn of the Elixir as much this time, probably since you weren’t really drinking it. It fell down your open throat and pooled as poison into your stomach.

‘You’ll be happy with us, my Princess…’ He repeated as you held your throat and coughed. You were dizzy, so dizzy. The room seemed to spin and, if it were not for Ray’s chest, you would have fallen forward onto the ground. You wheezed onto him form, squeezing your eyes shut until the pounding in your chest and head began to even themselves out.

But I'll be there for you As the world falls down

When your eyes opened once more, the colour returned to the room and the music resonated throughout each nerve ending in your body. The room was alive once again and you could feel it. Ray was looking at you and smiling. You were still dreaming; the clock had not yet struck Twelve.

Falling As the world falls down

[soukokuwu]

could i please get a super soft scenario of just being on a date with dazai? maybe he had a bad day, so the reader decides to treat him for dinner, letting him choose their meal. afterwards, sitting on the grass at a park, with a blanket around them and watching the sunset. him cuddling into her, while she runs her fingers through his scalp and kisses his head. tysm :) i love ur writing and u seem like such a cool person irl

LOVEBUG.      genre. fluff      synopsis. people can change, even the most unlikely ones.      word count. 1.4k      author notes. this took so long for me to get out i’m so sorry!! but thanks for waiting, if you’re still here, and tysm for your kindness anony <33 hehe someone thinks i’m cool :3

times change, and so do people.

you are the catalyst of dazai’s change, the one that takes over him akin to a hurricane overwhelming a small city. but whereas a hurricane leaves a destruction in its wake, you grew flowers in the barren soil which was his life. where he would once rather drown in the ocean, now he drowns in thoughts of you, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

there was a time where he would rejoice in being alone, to stop putting on a facade. because truth be told? it’s tiresome. but funny enough, where he deigns to be himself on a day-by-day basis, he deems it worthy when it’s with you.

because how can love be real when he doesn’t bare himself?

which is why when a case earlier that day reminded him of the only loss he ever grieved, he gets the overwhelming urge to just see you, to hug you and inhale the scent of your hair, the scent that naturally calms.

it’s a wednesday, and he usually doesn’t come over on work nights, but he can’t help himself. dazai allows himself to drag his feet over to your apartment uninvited.

tap. tap. tap.

slow, and weak, on the mahogany door.

you only just settled down after a long exhausting day at work, but already an unwonted visitor. you stifle a grumble, socks muting your harsh stomps against the marble floor, but any trace of irritation is carried away by the wind when you feel the familiar texture of bandaged arms brushing against your skin, and the subtle elation under his controlled murmur.

“i’m so glad to see you.”

you take a moment to collect yourself, before you return his hug. you stop yourself from asking the obvious ‘are you okay’ because you think it redundant. for dazai to go out of his way and visit you out of the blue? something is definitely bothering him. but it isn’t your place to pry — you know it’s impossible for him to talk about his cases (you deduce that it’s the only factor in the current that would make him feel this way). however, there is one thing you can do as his girlfriend.

make an effort.

you drag your boyfriend inside and shut the door behind him, observing as he flings himself down onto the sofa, the perfect embodiment of exhaustion. whatever it is that managed to bring him down this bad just means you have that much more work to do to pull him back up. and no, you don’t mind at all, actually. on the contrary, you love being the one he entrusts these particular notions to. you know he would rarely ever let anyone else’s actions dictate his mood. except yours.

in that honeyed voice of yours, you lean down and let your thumb ghost his lips, earning yourself a pout from your boyfriend as he looks up at you. “tell me anything you want for dinner, i’ll whip it up for you,” you offer.

dazai grins, sitting up and presses the tip of his nose against yours, a glint in his eyes. “i know just the thing i want.”

“are you sure this is all you want?”

dazai chuckles at your skepticality, offering only a grin in response, jabbing his fork down onto the meat and swallowing it readily.

now it’s your turn to giggle. it still baffles you how this is his idea of a perfect dinner: crab from a can with bottled sake from the supermarket. he’s aware that you can cook up a much better, high-end version of this, with your knack for fancy plating and wanton knowledge of compatible herbs.

but you know better than to question it. his answer would probably be much too complicated for you anyway. so you roll with it. not everything has to have an answer. you know when probing is unnecessary. this is one of those times. it isn’t too difficult to just be content with what you have. because you are. very. just lounging with dazai, sitting on the floor eating on the coffee table.

it’s simple. homely.

the both of you have a lively debate on the alleged corruption of one of the state senators, occasionally being sidetracked by the music playing on the television. by the time the two of you finish up, you notice the sun sinking lower and lower against the sky. you glance at your watch, twenty-three minutes left, give or take.

“what is it?” dazai asks with a simple head-tilt and wondering eyes.

now you grin in reply, “come on, let me take you somewhere.”

fifteen minutes later you’re leaning against his side, sitting on the freshly cut grass, watching as the sun sets on the horizon, the orange resembling fire hearths and tangerines. you feast your eyes on the sight before you as the rich hues of orange blends with purples and crimsons.

you always liked sunsets. they remind you of fresh colours brushing upon a blank canvas, leaves you wondering how something so beautiful managed to exist in the first place.

“a masterpiece, isn’t it?” you subconsciously ask, your gaze fixed on the sky before you, an unobstructed view thanks to your many-a-times spent wandering around the park near your home.

“yeah, it is.”

dazai isn’t agreeing with you though, not completely. because while you’re admiring the scenery, he’s admiring you. you’re the only masterpiece in his eyes, a timeless existence being captured in the lock of your gaze. he shifts his pupils back to the centre before you can catch him staring at you, though.

but he finds that that mere few seconds of admiring you isn’t enough. so he casually lays his head on your thighs, much to your surprise. you try to lean back, aware that it isn’t the most flattering angle for him to see you in, but he reaches up to move your face back into place.

“you’re beautiful, belladonna, don’t hide that.”

you can feel a heat creep up on your cheeks as you sheepishly smile back at him and give in. besides, when have you ever been able to say no to him?

and maybe now you do understand why he prefers the simple things. because as the blanket of the velvety night signals the end of the drowning sun, a thought pops into your head.

there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. because it’s not about what you’re doing, it’s about who you’re with. and never did you think you’d ever be enough for someone as prodigious as dazai osamu, but that isn’t important. what matters is that he thinks so, and he does. you know it. he’s shown it to you countless times, even if they are through subtle, unconventional means.

so you text your boss to request a sick leave tomorrow, something you have never done so just because you’re the hardworker that you are. but when you peer down at your beloved boyfriend’s blissful face, you think that some things deserve more weightage in your life as opposed to corporations that largely looks at their workers as being replaceable.

that night you wrap the blanket you prepared around the both of you as you shift to lie down on his chest, letting the steady pulse of his heartbeat envelop your ears. you call out to him, only to get his rhythmic breathing as a response. slowly, you flicker your eyes up to peek at him. he’s already asleep. and you exhale a silent laugh at how absolutely harmless he looks in this state.

he was the one that came to you seeking refuge from his troubles, so how did it end up helping you blow your own negativity away? he really is a remarkable person, you think.

“i love you,” you whisper to him, before you let yourself fall prey to your enervation.

and as your consciousness slips away, you think you hear the faint rustle of sleeves and the muffled murmurs of someone trying to tell you something.

“i’d stay alive forever if it meant i could spend an eternity with you.”

but you’re already fast asleep, and it’s okay. because the man with the voice responsible for such earnest words knows. he knows he’s going to spend his entire life convincing you so.

tags. @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes @smoochi-dazai @animatedarchives @chihxru ask me to be added/removed <3

[staranon95]

DinCobb Week Day 3: New Experiences (SFW)

for @dincobbweek a lil bit of ENBY!Cobb

AO3 Link

see me not as i am (but who i wish to be)

The first time they felt envy for another was when they were eighteen—still an owned individual, still a slave, still a man in a sense.

Their owner’s wife had returned from shopping in Mos Eisley, in the richer districts Cobb themself couldn’t go to.

They watched as the lady’s handmaids took her dresses out to hang them properly, and for a moment then, Cobb wondered what it would be like to feel that fabric against their skin, to see how the dress would drape over their body. How it would hide their broad shoulders. How it might make them seem smaller and more dainty. Just everything that wasn’t them at that point in time of their life.

They would never go anywhere near the lady or her dresses. That wasn’t their purpose in the household at that time. They wouldn’t have any time to explore that part of themself until years and years later. After they fought for their freedom and fought for the lives of others. Until the story of their life showed on their body in rigid muscles and myriad of scars and scar tissue.

They live the life of Mos Pelgo’s Marshal. A beloved and feared figure who means to protect and serve the citizens who call this dusty little place home. They seem to know, however, that their Marshal is more than just what they appear to be. It’s easy for them to see that outside of their role as Marshal, that Cobb Vanth is a soft spoke individual. Who smiles easily and dotes after the kids in town like they’re their own. Who holds themself not like the Marshal in their off hours, but someone approachable.

What the town comes to realize is that their Marshal is not a man. Cobb doesn’t think of themself as a man. They know themselves as Cobb first and foremost and then the Marshal. The Marshal has required them to be more than themselves. More imposing. Louder. Stronger. And they’ve enjoyed it. Being the Marshal has given them a sense of strength and power in a way. But when the Mandalorian arrives in town, things begin to change.

The deal is worth it. To trade the armour for killing the krayt and brokering a peace agreement between Mos Pelgo and the neighbouring Tuskens. But even then, it’s not the Mandalorian’s ability to delegate that draws Cobb to him. It’s his openness, his accepting nature.

“Town’s people think a lot of you,” he says in that soft timbre of his.

“Been their Marshal for a while now.”

“They think highly of you. I’ve also learned that they refer to you as they. Do you prefer that as well?”

Cobb looks to him, partially in shock because not many people ask. For the town’s people, it’s habit. For outsiders? Cobb hasn’t really cared to explain that part of themselves to outsiders. They don’t see the point in it, and most don’t care to know, but the Mandalorian, he’s different.

“I do,” is all Cobb says on the matter.

The Mandalorian nods once, then says, “I never introduced myself properly to you.”

“Wasn’t exactly a situation where introduction were required.”

“Still, I’d like you to know me. My name is Din.”

Cobb nods. “Nice to have it.”

They work well together, Cobb thinks. They move in sync. They’re able to anticipate what the other is thinking, and through it all, Cobb thinks about how they’ve never connected to someone else so well before.

But then it’s all over. They’re handing over the armour. Din is heading away with the Child, and Cobb will be left in Mos Pelgo to put everything back together.

Without the armour and now with the established peace between their people and the Tuskens, Cobb finds their workload to be significantly less than what it once was. They realize they’re spending more time helping out in homesteads, filling in for the school teacher, and less of the patrolling they used to do. They have more free time on their hands. They can relax and think of themselves for the first time in a long time.

They find themselves looking in their bathroom mirror running a hand over their beard in the mirror. It’s overgrown some. They haven’t considered touching it in days and now . . .

They grab their razor and begin to shave it off, leaving their face clean shaven for the first time in years. They’ve forgotten how sharp their cheekbones are and the point of their chin. It makes them look different without facial hair. Like a new person almost.

Jo notices when they meet up for coffee later that morning. “Shaving accident?”

They smile wryly. “Nah. Just needed a change.”

“Might want to double up on sunscreen then.”

They settle into their life more as Mayor of Mos Pelgo rather than Marshal these days. They start growing out their hair a bit. They start looking at new cuts of clothing whenever they happen upon a seller in Anchorhead or Mos Eisley.

And then one day, the Mandalorian Din shows up on his doorstep looking for a place to stay.

Cobb can’t deny him, and so ends up with Din sitting in their living room after being gone for months.

“I had nowhere else to go,” he says. “I figured . . .” He looks to Cobb with a certain naked vulnerability without his helmet on. His eyes are impossibly brown, deep and warm.

“You’d always be welcomed here.”

Din nods. “Thank you.”

The build up of their relationship is a slow and gentle affair. They’re both older people, Cobb pushing into their fifties and Din edging further into his forties. But they know each other and they know what they want, so it’s easier to fit together, to bring their lives together.

“I like your hair,” Din says one night when they’re in bed together. He raises a hand to tuck a lock behind Cobb’s ear. Then his fingers drift down Cobb’s jaw. “It looks good on you long.”

“I’ve always wanted to try it longer,” Cobb muses. “Never had the space to.”

“It’s nice.” Din presses a kiss to their forehead, and Cobb falls asleep with Din’s fingers in their hair.

It’s with Din’s constant and gentle support that Cobb garners up the courage to say one day, “Do you think I’d look good in a dress?”

Din looks up from where he’s repairing one of his vambraces at the table while Cobb finishes dinner. “Do you have one?”

They shake their head. “I’ve thought about it, but.”

“We should head into town tomorrow then. See what they have.”

Din is looking at them from the table, nothing but that open and accepting look he always has when it comes to Cobb.

“Okay.”

Mos Eisley hasn’t fallen into disrepair like Mos Espa has, and now as a free person, Cobb is free to visit those higher end clothing stalls and shops like the lady of the house once did decades ago. There’s a lot to look through and choose from. Different colours, different textures, different cuts. They choose something that’s practical for their day to day life. It’s long, down to their ankles, but of a flowy material that won’t trap any heat. The sleeves cut just above their elbows. There’s a vee cut in the front, and the colour is a soft cream. They buy that for themselves and notice that Din makes a purchase himself, but won’t tell them what it is.

“Later,” he says, so they trust him.

They first try on their dress at home when it’s just them and Din ad they’ve seen to their work for the day.

Din is back up on the bed, looking at Cobb in admiration as they strip down to their briefs and pull out their dress. It feels like relief as the fabric falls over their shoulders and down past their hips until it hangs around their ankles. They run their hands down over their chest and torso and down to their hips before looking in the mirror.

“Oh.”

The dress sort of shifts their shape a bit. From how it hangs on their hips it pulls away from their broad shoulders. It makes them look more feminine, makes them feel it as well.

Then they turn to Din, feeling how it swishes at their ankles.

Din is wide eyed and speechless at first, his eyes roving over Cobb’s body and the dress. “You’re, you look.” He runs a hand over his mouth and then sits up on the bed. “Can I . . . touch you?”

Cobb nods. “Please.”

Din stands and moves in to gently set his hands on Cobb’s waist. He’s always had big hands, but like this it makes Cobb feel even slighter, like he could pick them up easily.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

They hum and run their hands over his shoulders. “I feel good. Nothing different, but good.”

Din smiles. “I’m glad.” And he leans in for a kiss.

They don’t learn about Din’s purchase for a while yet, and they nearly forget about it until much later when they’re stepping into the bedroom after a long shower and seeing it on the bed.

They come up to Din as he cooks in the kitchen, hugging him from behind until he asks, “What’s brought this on?” And as he looks over his shoulder he sees it. Sees the red strap of it where the silky dress hangs off of Cobb’s body with its slit up the leg.

“Saw your little gift,” they say.

“I just, it’s not like.”

They kiss his cheek when they see his blush on their cheeks. “I love it.”

Din turns in their arms so he can fully see the dress on them, the thin straps, the thin material.

“You look good in red,” he says.

“Don’t I know it, darlin’.”

[fandom-necromancer]

A little distraction Part 3

This was prompted by @rufina72 as well as two anons and at least one AO3 user. I have to admit I lost track on AO3 because apparently people really enjoy this story line XD Hope you do to!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900, Hannor/Hancon Part 1 link not available   [Part2]   [Part4]   [Part5]   [Read complete on AO3]

‘S-s-so Connor is your brooother?’ They were driving through Detroit’s streets covered by snow slush and salt. It would be a pain to get the hardened dirt from the road off his car later, Richard thought as quiet Christmas music accompanied their drive. ‘Yes. Older by roughly five years’, he answered. ‘We’re very close.’ ‘And he w-w-will be the only one there?’ Again, Richard nodded. ‘Yeah, him and his boyfriend. Guess I have to update that to husband soon, they plan to marry as soon as legislation has caught up with recognising androids as persons in every aspect.’ ‘No other f-f-family?’ Richard frowned, face falling instinctively, before he forced himself to cheer up.

‘Nah. Our father died in a car accident. I was three years old; I don’t remember much of him but photos. Connor knew him more and always said he was a nice guy. Our mother was always at work, too absorbed in her studies. It changed a bit when father died, but still she wasn’t home much. Connor basically was the one raising me, and he blames mom for not being there for me.’ ‘And y-y-you?’ ‘Nah’, he laughed. ‘It was normal for me; I didn’t know anything else. But we both agree that me and him, we are family and she doesn’t belong in that definition. And that we’ll do it better should we ever get kids.’ Gavin nodded slowly. ‘How’s he?’ ‘Caring?’, Richard began, having to think of the right words to express what he felt when thinking of his brother. ‘Overly protective. Overly friendly. It can be annoying at times. But he is honest too and understands boundaries. He never said anything when I had my silent phases, just came to my room and did whatever he did close to me keeping me company. He seems to always know what you need right now and I think that’s his most treasurable attribute.’ ‘Hooope he knows that with meee too, not just you. Wh-wh-what I told you, I won’t tell anyooone else.’

Nines risked a look to the side to Gavin, who had ducked his head in between his shoulders and fidgeted with a button on his shirt. ‘Hey.’ He stopped at a red light and was about to touch the android comfortingly, refraining from it last second as he remembered his reaction to that. ‘Hey, if it gets too much at any point, tell me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.’ Gavin quickly looked out of the window and nodded, obviously embarrassed.

-

They arrived at a small house draped in tasteful Christmas decoration. Not too much and in exactly the right colours to make it feel cosy, warm and welcoming. Gavin stepped out of the car watching the lights and trying not to think of how he had lifted up the kids so they could help putting them up in their old home. They were fond memories made all the more sour by his loss. He knew his LED was likely red again, alerting the strange human that had picked him up of his  composure slipping, but if Richard noticed, he didn’t say anything, just walking ahead and smiling back at him as an invitation to follow him. Gavin swallowed and hastily walked through the snow to the freed path leading to the door. Nines was already standing there, hand hovering over the doorbell.

‘Richard!’ The door was almost ripped open by someone who looked exactly like the other human, maybe an inch smaller and a lot more expressive. ‘You came!’ ‘I promised, didn’t I?’ Connor hugged the other human and grinned from one ear to the other. ‘Yes of course, but still!’ Only then did he turn to Gavin, who was awkwardly standing half behind Richard and watched them. It was hard to blink away the warning popping up over and over again. Connor moving towards Richard. Threat. Warning. Richard returning his hug, the arm passing through Gavin’s personal space at that. Warning. Threat. Connor turning around. Threat. Run. Gavin didn’t know since when he was stuck in this analysis mode, but he was sick of flinching and glitching at any movement. ‘This must be your plus one?’, he asked Richard with a wink and held out a hand towards Gavin. ‘Hello, I’m Connor.’ Gavin couldn’t suppress taking a step back. ‘I-I-I’m Gaaavin’, he said, cursing his voice box for glitching now out of all times. Connor let his hand fall, but smiled at him, completely ignoring his stutter and hangers. ‘Hello Gavin, nice to meet you! Merry Christmas! Come in, you two! Hank’s getting out the food already!’

They followed Connor in and got rid of their shoes, before entering the living room. Connor instructed them to sit down and hurried into the kitchen to help Hank. When the larger android came to greet them, Gavin dared to relax a bit. He was deviant too, sending a friendly greeting ping to him. He looked gentle, trusting and didn’t have any marks on him. Hank put down plates for Connor and Richard, while Connor came back with two mugs of warmed Thirium for the androids as well as blue tinged cookies. ‘Can you eat?’, Hank asked him then. ‘You are an older model, right?’ Gavin nodded. ‘I am. B-b-but I caaan eat. I g-g-got the upgrade when Kathy- I got the upgrade.’ Hank lifted a brow at the errors and swallowed sentence, but otherwise didn’t mention it. ‘Then I hope they taste, Connor made them. He has no talent.’ ‘Excuse me?’, the human answered, elbowing Hank. Gavin expected damage, but it was a friendly gesture. ‘I can cook great.’ ‘Yeah’, Hank countered. ‘If you count heating up frozen pizza.’ ‘Hey, that’s all I can do, too, so I’ll side with Connor here’, Richard laughed. ‘What’s your verdict, Gavin?’

He looked into the other’s faces, still overwhelmed by it all. Instead of answering, he took one of the cookies and nibbled on the edge. He hadn’t really eaten much since he had gotten the upgrade and his tank didn’t allow for more than one meal anyways. It tasted… sweet. The texture was interestingly grainy and gave in to force easily. Not able to stand being stared at any longer, he just shrugged and said: ‘It tastes good?’ ‘See!’, Connor grinned. ‘Gavin likes it. I can’t be that bad then!’ ‘Or your recipe was good.’ ‘Or he did something wrong and accidentally saved otherwise horrible cookies.’ Connor crossed his arms. ‘Oh, shut up, Nines, try baking something you can’t even try because it’s literal poison for you!’ Richard laughed, and it eased the mood into simpler waters.

They continued talking for a while exchanging about what they had been up to lately. Gavin listened, but was content not to be involved at all, eating the cookies Connor had prepared. He actually liked them a lot and it was quite relaxing to just munch away on them. ‘And? How did you two get to know each other?’ He froze, sharing a look with Richard. ‘Errr…’ ‘Do you know that red light at the corner of that mattress store?’ Connor frowned, then nodded. ‘Yeah, you have to wait ages until you can drive on.’ ‘Somehow timing was perfect, and we saw each other every day when my shift ended.’ He looked over to Gavin and he nodded, thanking him inwardly to not tell them his whole life story. ‘Today I decided to talk to him.’ Connor looked over to Gavin disbelievingly. ‘My brother spoke to you first?’ Gavin huffed. ‘Y-Yes, he did. I-I-I lost my family because of the revolution. Had nowhere to go. He invited me to come with him.’ ‘So you really aren’t more than strangers’, Hank asked. ‘Kind of?’, Gavin shrugged. ‘But Richard seeeems like a nice g-g-guy and I don’t have m-m-much to lose.’ Connor swallowed. ‘I’m sorry to hear that’, he said. ‘You are welcome here any day if you need a place to stay.’ The android ducked his head, blushing. ‘Richard offered that already and I agreed to try it out.’ That shifted their attention towards the man completely.

‘Nines, are you ill? Initiating conversation, bringing someone for dinner and inviting them into your home?’ ‘Fuck off, Connor, seriously. Call it a Christmas miracle.’ Connor shook his head. ‘Would be one hell of one.’ Richard threw him a look and laughed. ‘Connor, just because it’s rare it doesn’t mean it never happens.’ ‘It was awkwaaard as hell too’, Gavin added carefully. ‘Have to admit I thought he was some sort of weirdo first.’ Connor smiled as Nines rested his hand on his arm. ‘Okay, that sounds more like my brother.’

‘Really? A weirdo?’, Richard asked Gavin. ‘I thought aaaaafter our last talk you appreciated h-h-honesty.’ ‘Yeah, okay, but you don’t just tell someone they are a weirdo.’ ‘It’s the truth.’ Richard sighed. ‘I don’t think you are oooone now th-th-th-though’, he added. ‘Thanks, at least there’s that then…’ Richard looked up at Connor. ‘What?’

The other human was grinning at them both and tried to hide it badly. ‘I’m happy, Nines. Really. I’m glad you both are here today. Come on, let’s watch a movie and then presents!’

-

The longer they spent at Connor’s house, the more at ease Gavin felt. No one asked him about his past or why he was malfunctioning all over. It surely was a question that burned in their minds, he could feel it, but they consciously didn’t question him. He was just being accepted as a part of their Christmas celebration as if he hadn’t just been picked up from some scrapyard and put into nice clothing. It felt like he… Like he had been here last year and the year before. Almost like… like he belonged. Like a family. He just had to reach out a hand and take the chance Richard had offered him and all of this would turn from pretend to reality. It was weird thinking about it, especially when every connection to the word family brought up memories of loss and grief about old happiness.

But was it wrong to want this again? To wish for another chance at building new memories? He looked at Richard from the corner of his eyes. The man was completely fixed on the TV in front of them, body relaxed and close to him but far away enough not to impose or cause stress. Gavin swallowed and looked over to Connor and Hank on the other couch under a blanket lying close, Hank holding the human and caressing his hair. He could have this again. This casual comfort, these caring touches, this feeling of safety and belonging. The home he had lost and tried to build for himself in that scrapyard could be his again, if he just allowed to let it happen.

He swallowed and pressed his eyes close to block out the warnings of threat, warning, run, danger. Then he scooted over slowly until he hit Richards warm ribcage. He felt the other shift around his frozen body, then an arm was draped around his shoulders carefully. ‘This too much?’, Nines whispered near inaudibly over the movie running and Gavin shook his head. No, he wanted this, he just had to get over his own barriers. A few minutes later, he tried opening his eyes again and was surprised his systems weren’t bombarding him with errors. Instead, his status box read safe and Richard’s body was marked as friend/ally. Gavin sighed deeply, dropping into the carefree touch completely.

When Richard dared to look down the next time, the android in his arm was smiling just the slightest and his LED was circling somewhere between blue and yellow – the calmest he had seen Gavin so far. By the end of the movie, Gavin wasn’t moving anymore, the LED pulsing slowly. Nines looked over at Hank questioningly and the android nodded. ‘He’s in stasis now.’ ‘Wow’ Richard said with raised brows, looking down on the sleeping android. Connor sat up and threw them their blanket. ‘You can stay the night if you want. Guess I have to call you Tens now’, he joked. Nines huffed and answered deadpan: ‘Do that and I’ll stop talking to you to go back to Nines.’

[>next part]

[struwwelzeter]

Because i miss your design themed rants (it is good word here) i would like you to rank Rammstein album covers from designers point of view.

Ah, I love you. This got VERY ranty.

This is kinda hard because I tend to judge the entire packagaing/notes, and when I count that into it the ranking would be ever so slightly different. I’ll mention it for each I have Opinions (TM) on, but yeah, this is solely going on cover. I’ll only do the studio albums, not made in germany or the DVDs, or this will get too big.

7th: Rosenrot.

I know lots of you are gonna hate me for this. It’s not that I don’t like it, I do, it’s beautiful. Unfortunately it’s ... slightly lazy. It’s I think their most obvious cover and obvious feels like it’s good design but never truly is. It’s got that first idea feel, if that makes any sense. There is always that project where you go “uh can’t think of anything, but this works.” It’s not a bad thing, they clearly still knew what they were doing. It’s just ... that typical photoshop post apocalyptic composit that lost of metal/alternative bands did at some point. They all did it because it’s cool. No argument there. It’s just that I expect a bit ... more.

6th: Herzeleid

I know it’s iconic, but. The execution?! Terrible. The colours of their skin and that flower?! Too different to feel monochromatic, to same same to contrast nicely. Too much texture. What is that?! The positive bit is the placement of the typography because, neat! Most people fail at that. I like the blue-grey there aswell, how about you’d added that to their skin a little? No? Ok.

Also, this (Richard speaking):

“The bloody sleeve! What a crazy situation that was. We approved the photos in a car park without thinking what we were letting ourselves in for. When we saw what the designer had done, we freaked! We looked so… gay! All of us stripped to the waist. It was like an ad for a gay porno film. So we had to say, sort it out. Make us look straight again. Change the sleeve.”

Who in the fuck works like this?! Nevermind, I know it was a considerably younger Dirk Rudolph, but fucking hell, have some self respect, all of you. I know they didn’t know what they were doing, they probably had the management/record company comission it, and that was still the time graphic designers were seen as just pixel pushers from that time it took 3 days to layout a poster. Still. What was that brief?! Could you have sat down for 20 minutes and talk, perhaps?! Also, I hope this is how Richie learned to be the nightmare client I know he is. Don’t approve layouts in a car park, what the fuck is wrong with you.

It’s a pity because the concept? Nice. Sculpted men infront of flowers, what else do you want from life. Why crysanthemes, tho? Too textured in that macro shot. What is that photo angle?! Might try and redo that if I ever feel like it.

5th: Reise, Reise

This breaks my heart a little, because it’s my lonely island album. And it isn’t bad by any stretch. Actually, their album cover game is ridiculous, can I have that established as a general benchmark? It would make for a lot less mental break downs. The thing is ... I like the idea. Make it look like the black box, cool. The problem is the type. It makes it look like “Flugrekorder Nicht Öffnen” is the album title. To be fair, Typesetting is my main thing, and album artists get it wrong (imo) 99 out of 100 times. I wish they would have comitted more and just left the titel off and solved it with a slide in, or a sticker or something like that. It’s just a bit ... weird. What works brilliantly is that it’s very memorable, stands out on the shelf, is unusual, all of that. It’s iconic. I do like it very much but I had to place something here.

4th: Liebe ist für alle da

Now the thing with that album is that it has two covers. If I’d gone by the original one, I’d have to place it behind Reise, Reise. Everything RR has in impact, this is missing. It’s too dark, has too many pieces, it won’t stand out on a shelf. Especially not in the CD age when it was on 12x12 cm. Even on a Vinyl, it’s ... just not that impactful. Sure, the photograph is beautiful but meh. Luckily there is a second option. And that - is almost like a logo. It works as a symbol, and that makes it so strong. Less is more. Brilliant. You can draw it from memory. It’s so iconic, the kind of stuff that starts showing up in subways, drawn on the back of a seat and sprayed on walls. Tell me you never wanted to paint that on a flag and take it to a pride parade. I am sure some of us have.

I do want to mention the booklet in this, because it does bump it up a little too, because where the panorama image fails as a cover, the inside is done so beautifully with the fold out, the type setting, everything. It’s special, and done with love and it shows.

3rd: Mutter

There is just something about this that is so, so, so memorable. Everyone recognises this. If you ask anyone over the age of 20 to describe Rammstein with an album cover only to someone less familiar, is anyone gonna say anything but “they’re the band with the embryo in close up”?! Maybe this is subjective because that’s how I first got exposed to them, but I don’t think so. It’s such a powerful image. It’s both beautiful and uncomfortable, the way Rammstein as a whole and that album in particular is beautiful and uncomfortable. It’s stunning. That’s it. Unfortunately, this one falls apart inside. The went too far with the whole Matrix inspired cyber elements. It’s trendy and trendy never stands the test of time, in that it has the same problem Rosenrot has, but much worse because it’s not even done that well. They could have just used the photos and kept it raw. The type setting on the cover is as good as it gets with albums tho, so I am happy.

2nd: Sehnsucht

Ah, Sehnsucht. The most perfect band shoot they ever had. Helnwein just ... did it. I don’t know, it both defined and summed up who they are aesthetically for the longest time. It’s the visual statement that says “this is Rammstein”. It ... just looks like a band that sings about heartbreak and necrophilia is supposed to look like. Don’t you agree? How else would it look like? Even that omniously coloured beach. It’s as if the predicted the mood of True Detective, only less Hollywood. That darkness we don’t want to see, that can happen anywhere. And where they fell short with Mutter, where they added too much on to these powerful images, they just added the type. Granted, it was the 90s so it’s slightly experimental type. But unlike most type in the 90s it stood the test of time. Add the whole variable cover versions and chefs kiss! Beautiful work. Makes me happy and emotional and ugh.

1st: The White Album

I’m just calling it that now. The Matchstick. You know, good design is made up from three components only: Concept. Commitment. Execution. The concept of this is so streamlined and clean. It’s the entire Rammstein story narrowed down to a single little thing. It’s small and ordinary looking but it can become dangerous and big. It’s underestimated. A little piece of wood with a head of phosphor and calium chlorit and yet you can commit the most legendary arson. It’s the personification of the thing that has become synonymous with them: Fire. It says so much with so little. And then they comitted to that. No useless typography, a simple but oh so well done photoshoot, the simple text on white. They didn’t ad too much additional ideas on to it, they trusted that one to carry and it does. They could have done without the black and white match stick arrangements inside, although I’m not even sure if that’s not just a limited edition thing, it’s a bit too much almost. They got scared a little there. The execution is also well done, I have very little to critique, only that I feel it lacks a tiny bit of love. The thing is, the more minimalist you go, the more love you have to put into each element. I feel like the spacing of the type should have been fixed in a few places but honestly that is being very very picky. Or not. Because if it wasn’t for that, and the teeeeny tiny commitment issue, this should have been a candidate for the packaging grammy. I mean it should be even the way it is, but we all know how those fuckers ignore our boys.

I’m done. Can I use this as application? Do you think if I send them a run down of basically tearing them apart they will hire me?

[dimensionwriter]

My Mad Scientist

I know it's been what feel like a decade since I've released some of my work, but I'm back baby. I plan on updating every until Halloween, so hopefully I can keep that promise. I just got to fight off this writer block that's been beating my butt for months now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Remember to Comment and Like. Thank You.

Genderless Reader x M! Alien

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Day 243 on Sombrero's Ship

Professor went to Planet Beta to obtain a rare plant that he plans to work with to try out magic. He requested for the shipment of two other plants that he needs from Planet Xeon, but the receivers there are quite slow, so it's unknown of when they will get the message. Professor is getting quiet impatient-

"Of course I'm getting impatient," a voice yelled behind you angrily. You dropped your hands from the keyboard to tilt your head back at the voice. 

"They haven't had any connections," you teased the man. Well, I guess man would be the wrong word. 

The correct term would be a Znemorph from Planet Alpha. He was around 8 feet tall when he slouches, but could get to a height of 10'7 when he put in enough energy to actually stand up straight. His torso was humanish in a way, except his ribs expanded out more causing his waist to appear tiny. 

The skin on his body was kind of leathery with a silver holographic sheen to it. Six pair of arms extended from his torso, all thin and strangely long. The upper and lower arm had 3 thick fingers, whereas the middle arms sprouted four. He said that on his planet it meant that he was going to be something special, but you knew that was just simply him boosting his ego.

"I mean, so what? They got my call within one solar setting last time, but it's been six now," he yelled with his almond shape head twitching. His hair was styled in thick long twists of red that turned white the lower it went. On top of his head seem to be a skull mask, but was actually an evolution their body made for defense. If he feels threatened or angry, the mask cover his face, only allowing his 6 black eyes to be seen. 

"They have had non-stop fire storms that have been burning their receivers. They have to wait for them to stop in order to fix them. Then they will receive your signal," you explained slowly to him. In response, he just slowly blinks at you with a quirked circular eyebrow. "So you will have to wait longer."

A loud groan slipped from his throat as he threw himself back on your bed. The black duvet covered his upper body making his lower body stand out. Instead of normal muscular Znemorph legs, he had a pair of silvery mechanical prosthetics.

When you asked what had happened, he just simply explained that when a machine is in the red danger zone, don't continue to let it run. He also laughs really hard when in an action movie, they jump away from the explosion with their legs up above them. 

"But I want to try out magic right now. For all 509 years I've been alive, I have never gotten a chance to work with magic. And now we're at a part of the universe where it thrives and I can't do anything because their planet is dumb," he mumbled angrily.  His metal legs thrashed around as he threw another mini tantrums. 

He was the oldest creature on this ship, but somehow still manage to act like the youngest. But it was kind of adorable when he gets pouty. His cheekbones flares out in order for him to extend his tongue out of his mouth. 

"How about this? I have a lot of credits left, so I'll buy you some jello," you proposed already standing. A happy squeal came from the Professor's mouth as he tried to jump out of the bed. But in his joyous state, he failed to remember that he was wrapped up in your duvet.

A loud thump then clang followed after his body crashed onto the ground. His legs were first to move as they tried to kick the duvet off. 

"Ugh, this stupid human invention. Why can't-" his sentence was cut off as his mask slammed down over his face. He couldn't speak when the mask on, but you could see by his six eyes that he was getting more angry.

"Calm down, Professor," you sighed slowly. You took giant steps to get around your circular bed to help the Professor. The duvet had caught on a spring in his leg causing him to be stuck. An easy fix. 

"There you go," you sung out pulling the duvet from around the spring. He rolled his eyes and flipped off his back to get onto his two feet. The mask was still on his face and you could tell he was getting annoyed by not being able to talk. "So far, the key ingredient you are missing today is patience. Just be patience and the mask will go back up."

Four eyes closed leaving only the middle one. Lifting his middle left and right arm, he begin to wave them around while switching his hip. He strutted over to the duvet and in the most exaggerated motion, threw it onto the bed.

"You really shouldn't be making fun of someone who is going to be getting you some jello," you grumbled with a raised eyebrow. His four eyes slowly open before they begin to flutter at you. "Now flattery, you really trying everything in the book."

The walk to the canteen was majority you talking to him. You made the mistake of asking him a question and he went to respond but couldn't. This caused him to have another mini tantrum where he tried to shove his mask up. 

"It's going to be on there longer since you got angry again," you sighed out. You picked up the bronze spoon and bounced it on top of the jello. The two jellos sat on top of the table, uneaten, as the cold air conditioning in the room kept them in their natural state.

You didn't want to eat without the Professor. It would be quite rude for you to finish first and then have his mask come up, making him feeling like he should rush while eating. Jello was his favorite food, so he should have plenty of time to enjoy it. 

"I'm scheduled to check on Earth's veggie plants this afternoon," you whispered glancing up at him. He sat up a little and you could see his eyes starting to shine. "It's only for a little bit, so if you are free around that time you can come."

All six hands came up and started to do multiple versions of excitement: clapping, jazz hands, and a few fist pumps. His eyes were closed in happiness as he continued to so his little happy jig. He's so adorable.

A loud popping sound caught both of yours attention. You glanced up to see 6 black eyes and a flat nose. His face had a little more colour in it due to the heat from being under the mask; his cheeks had a small pink hue to it. He couldn't actually blush, since his skin was holographic, but you like to pretend that when a certain colour show up in that area that it's blush.

"Oh my gosh, finally!" he yelled quickly snatching his spoon up. In one sweep move, half of his jello was balancing on his spoon. His jaw dropped a little revealing his mouth.

They were filled with mini sharp teeth that grew blunter the farther back they went in. Two black tongues wiggled around as he tried to control his urge to snatch the jello with him.

The way Znemorph eat were quite different from humans. The can rip the food with their front teeth and use this type of acidic saliva to melt it in their mouth. In order to break it down faster, they usually shoot their tongue out to the food and wrap their tongue around it.

The Professor never said he was embarrassed by it, but it was easy to tell. When he ate in public, he tried to eat in what was deemed as 'appropriate'. But in private, he tends to do it the natural way.

It startled you when you asked him to try the human treat of jello. After a singular spoonful, his tongue shot out to the bowl and brought the entire thing in his mouth. He spent the entire week apologizing and avoiding eating around you. It took you awhile to finally coax him out of that state. 

"If you don't stop analyzing me and eat," Professor scolded narrowing his eyes. You blinked away the reverie and looked down at the food. His was completely gone, even the bowl was wiped clean. 

"How did you know I was analyzing you?" You mumbled embarrassed. You put the spoon in the bowl and brought out a small spoonful. You gently placed it into your mouth and allowed it to melt a little.

"When you are thinking real hard, your eyes gloss over and you sometimes twitch you fingers. You look like you are writing or typing," he explained waving his spoon around to drive home his point. He glanced over at your bowl of jello.

"Well," you drew out digging your spoon into your jello "I am used to taking notes of things I find interesting. So I guess you caught my attention,” you teased him with a small wiggle of your eyebrows. You pushed your spoon towards the Professor and he looked confused for a moment. “Say ah.”

He mimic the sound with his six eyes narrowed in confusion. You put the spoon in his mouth and dropped the jello onto his tongue. All movement in the Professor stopped as you brought the spoon out of his mouth. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you ‘analyzing’ my jello over there, Professor,” you joked. You put the spoon in the jello and took a small bite out of it. One thing the chef on this ship did was somehow make all food taste a thousand times better than anyone could imagine and somehow created new dishes while at it. Today, they recommend that you try out the new strawberry cheesecake flavored jello. You didn’t think the flavor and texture would mix, but they somehow made it tastes awesome.

A loud high pitched screech startled you causing you to drop you spoon on the table. You snapped your head up to look at the professor blue and pink holographic face. Why was his face so colourful all of a sudden?

The bottom right arm threw itself forward and reached towards the side of your head. Your earpiece was ripped out of your ear causing you to gasp at the cold air hitting your ear. 

“NIGONVNSOIENGRWSJGNiosrnJBNSDIOnO,” the Professor went off while holding the earpiece high above you. His hands were moving around in exaggerated movements as he continued to go off in gibberish.

Well, it wasn’t gibberish, it was just his native tongue. The ear piece he took out of your ear was an automatic translator that helped everyone on the ship understand each other. Everyone was able to talk to each other no matter where they came from or what species they were. So for you, everyone talked in English, but to them it was something totally different. 

“Professor, I know you know that I can’t understand you right now. Give me my translator so I can see why you’re throwing a tantrum," you grumbled sticking your hand out for your ear piece. He glances at your hand with narrowed eyes before hesitantly handing back your earpiece.

"Theraepjohtrs’ore-uxveodbwivbsj." You were trying your hardest to get the earpiece in your ear, but it was kind of hard when you felt rushed. Finally, the dang thing clicked into place and you felt a small electric shock tingle in your ear. "So, if you shall need me, I will be in my office."

The Professor spun dramatically on his prosthetic legs and marched off in the way of the offices. As he stomped away, you sat there confused and baffled at what just happened. 

You fed him some jello, which you thought was normal between the two of you. He always fed you food and you have had your share of throwing popcorn in his mouth. Maybe it was the flavoring that got to him. He's never had the cheesecake flavor, it was number 39 on his list of jello flavors to try. Was he mad at you for ruining his process of jello testing?

"I have no clue what just happened, but I know for a fact that the Professor was flustered." You glanced up to see the Cook walked towards you. They were a quite large purple alien with three arms and a lower body that resembled a horse. You forgot where they came from.

"You had your translator in, can you tell me what happened?" You begged bring your hands together with your puppy dog eyes out. The Cook let out a small coo and poked you cheeks. 

"Humans are so cute," they squealed pinching your cheek. You slapped away their hands to stop them from going overboard. They were like every grandma on Earth combine into one being. "Anyway, he was yelling about being embarrassed by how adorable something looked. And then I think he started to speak some poetry that compared the taste of the jello to his one true love."

You tapped your translator to make sure it was in all the way, because what they just said made no sense. The Professor is single from what he has told you, so who was he yelling about?

"I think he called the jello his one true love. I don't know. I was only half heartedly listening," they grumbled sadly looking down. You gave them a smile of gratitude.

"It was still some good information. Thank you so much," you said smiling gently at them. They couldn't really smile, so they opted for a thumbs up with their three fingers. 

"Oh, don't forget to check your Earth garden today. I have to do mines tomorrow," they reminded snapping their fingers at you. You glanced at the clock on the wall to see that it was later than what you wanted to leave for your garden. 

"Thanks, and good luck with your experiments," you yelled abandoning your jello to run for the transporter. A bunch of other aliens were kind of confused by you running through the ship, but one glance at the clocks and they're faces turned into their version of understatement. 

The thing was that every person on this ship was a scientist in some sort of field. Everyone on the ship got tired of calling eachother Doctor, so you guys just started giving each other nicknames.

Since the Professor was the oldest on the ship and was always going off on a tangent about something, he earned the nickname of the Professor. 

The Cook was an alien who had a hobby for making different dishes from around the galaxies and never wanted to use any of the food teleported in. So most people usually could come to the canteen and find them in the midst of cooking. They even began to take orders. 

"Um, Human," someone whispered tapping your shoulder. You turned around to see the Professor standing next to the transporter. His eyes glanced at you before bouncing back to the transporter. “You going to the Earth garden to tend to it, correct? Good, than I should follow you.”

“What the hell was that in the canteen, Professor? You yank out my ear piece, scream something, and then stomp away. And you expect me to act like nothing happened," you snapped at him pointing an accusing finger at him. He took a startled step back with his arms coming up in defense. A blue tint started to spread up his neck and covered his face. 

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, human. I was startled and I let my emotions get the best of me," he muttered out avoiding your gaze. He reached his top left hand and started pulling at his twists, a nervous habit that he grew into. "I said some stuff that I didn't want you to hear, because it would have ruined our relationship."

You raised an eyebrow at him at the last statement. But the cook said that he was talking about being embarrassed or being in love with...the jello? You've seen the Professor in all types of situations, so him being flustered or embarrassed is something you're use to. So, what did he say exactly?

"Next time, just talk it out with me. I hate that shock the translator give when you put it back in," you grumbled rubbing your ear with the translator. The Professor's eyes soften as you saw his forehead crinkle from regret. "I won't hold it against you this one time. But if you do it again, you will be punished."

A shiver went through him at your little threat. The alien here know about humans and their history, so a few aliens fear you, even though you can barely reach half their height.

The ping from the elevator startled you for a second and broke the weird atmosphere. The doors slide open revealing a circular pad that worked as a teleporter. 

You stepped on it quickly and turned to the front. The Professor went to take a step too before he stopped. He glanced hesistantly at you and back at the pad.

"Come on in," you huffed out rolling your eyes. He let out a small happy squeal ad he jumped into the pad. He seems to be vibrating with excitement at the thought of seeing Earth's vegetation.

Three solar settings has past since that incident, which is close to a week in Earth time. The two of you never brought up the incident and just continued on with your work. It's been pretty normal, well as normal as it can get with the Professor. 

That is until one day in the middle of your sleep, you get a call. The flashing blue lights and annoying ringtone going off instantly put you in a bad mood.

You rolled over and slammed the button to answer the call. Whoever it is better have a dang good reason for calling you at 4 in the morning.

"Human! So, I have good news and bad news." You let out a long groan as you heard his voice. He had to sleep a lot less than you, but he knew how important a good night of sleep was to humans. "Which would you prefer first?"

"Good news," you grumbled rolling over to turn on the light. A soft pale yellow filled the room allowing your eyes to slowly adjust. 

"So, I grew restless waiting for Planet Xeon to stop setting it self on fire, so I decided to work with what I got. And guess what," you didn't even get a chance to breathe before he was talking again," I was able to use some magic. I made a spell and casted it."

Your body tensed up. He used magic by himself, most likely unsupervised by the ship's AI. Please, don't let him have burned down half of the ship.

"And the bad news," you hesitantly asked. You prepared to launch yourself to the nearest transporter to stop whatever damage he may have caused. The Professor may be the wisest thing on this ship, but he's also the dumbest. 

"I somehow casted a truth spell on myself. I thought I could substitute some of the ingredients for this one spell and yeah, it didn't work out."

You sat there for a moment and let all of that sink in. 

"Are you okay? Is your body feeling fine? Is there anything on fire? Are you on fire?" You asked slowly to him. You heard a slight giggle come from him. 

"No, my cute little human, I am in no way in any harm. I think it's absolutely adorable how you worry for me," he hummed out with a small laugh at the end. You blinked slowly for a second before glancing over to make sure it was the Professor calling you. 

"Well, if you're okay then I'm going to go back to bed. You can call me if something goes wrong, but please don't if you just simply want to chatter," you grumbled turning back off the light. You waited for him to say good night, instead you were met with silence. "Professor?"

"Sorry, I'm having an internal turmoil on how I should respond. A part of me wants to wish you a pleasant dream, because you deserve it and you look like an angel when you sleep. But then there's a part of me that wants to lie and say I feel off, so you can come over and we can watch a scary movie together. Then I can pretend to get scared by something and have you wrap your arms around me and I can spend the rest of the night in your hold. I do believe that is my favorite place in the entire your universe, in your arms."

Your mouth hung open as you looked at the communicator in shock. "What?" You yelped in surprise. 

"I would ask if you had your translator out of your ear, but with each passing millisecond, that hope is burning faster than Planet Xenon is right now. So-so, this is very awkward and-and I'm going to hang up," he sputtered. A bunch of crash and bangs came from the other side of the line along with some curses from him. "I'm fine. I'm okay. Nothing's on fire other than my face and dignity! Bye!"

A low tone beep told that he just ended the phone call. In the darkness of your room with cold air nipping at your skin, you sat there more confused than ever in your life. You wondered if he accidently made a hallucinatory drug instead of a truth spell. 

But that was a morning problem you were going to have to deal with.

Day 251 on Sombrero's Ship

Professor has casted a truth spell on himself late yesterday. It seems to have affected him mentally more than physically. The spell makes him speaks what's on his mind rather than answering the truth to the question. Talking to other scientists that have worked with magic before, they believe the exact name of the spell is 'Release the Mind'.

You shut down the tablet and glanced at the door in front of you. The air in the lab section of the ship was always cold and dry. Luckily, the lab coats produced thermal heat to keep your body in top condition.

The small communicator on your arm buzzed for a few seconds before pulling up a holographic message that showed you had 30 minutes before you needed to return to your experiments.

Whelp, here goes nothing.

You placed your hand on a pad next to the door and pushed your fingers into the squishy fabric. The pad glowed a low orange before turning red. Access granted.

The Professor only gave you accessed to his lab because he got tired of having to constantly open the door for you when he wanted to show you something. So, he just put your fingerprints in and now you're able to go through whenever you feel like.

"Oh, I knew I forgot to do something," a voice grumbled. You looked around, but didn't see the Professor anywhere.

"Professor?" You asked scanning the room once. It was a pristine white room that held little colour in it. The white counters in the back held tubes that were slightly bubbling over. A movable silver table was haphazardly turned in the corner with a bunch of books open.

Filled with curiosity, you walked over to the books and took a tiny peak at what pages they were open too. These had to be the references he used for the spell.

'Reversal Spell'

'How to undo a spell for beginner'

'Baking Substitute'

'Human Appearance Spell'

'How to look more huma-'

Before you could get a good look at the last book's page title, it was slammed shut by a silver holographic 3 fingered hand. The hand was quick to snatch the book off the table before 4 other hands snatched up the other ones.

"Really wished you didn't see that and wished you weren't here," Professor gasped, struggling to hold the books in his arms. A book flipped out of his hand and started diving for the floor. But you were use to the Professor's clumsiness, so it was a natural movement to catch the book before it could crash.

"Sorry for being a bother Professor. I'll leave ASAP. Only wanted to check in on you," you said in a mannerly professional voice. It was there to cover up how hurt you were by the Professor saying he didn't want you to be here. He most likely did feel uncomfortable with you, a human, around while he wasn't in top shape.

"Oh, you're sad. I made you sad with my previous statement. I believe you interpreted it incorrectly," he rambled running around the room. His 6 vantablack eyes searched the room feverishly as he seem to be struggling to focus.

"I was not saying that I did not crave your presence, I always do. That's the reason I gave you access so I could discreetly ask for you to be next to me. Just you being near is enough for you to brighten my entire life. And that's not even including that god like beauty of yours. Anyway, I was saying I wish you weren't here because my mouth is like a volcano that constantly erupting stuff out of it and it isn't under my control. I mean, look, in the last 50 seconds and 23 millisecond and counting, I have poured out way too much information that should have been hidden in my mind. On that note,how was your day?"

He spun on his prosthetic and slide on a random paper. Luckily, he was capable of grabbing the metal table with his arm and pull himself back up. The skin on his face became more colourful as he spun away from you.

You tried to express any emotion other than shock, but you were struggling to. You just stared at him with a wide mouth as he moved around the room with his eyes cast down.

The Professor gave out compliments, just not as intense as those. It almost seems like he was-

No, don't even go down that path. He is a professional creature and wouldn't even go towards that area, especially in the workplace.

"Oh-oh-um it was great. Got a chance to work with Chef on some ground samples this morning," you stuttered out trying to remain cool. A wave of heat flooded up your neck as you saw him glance back at you with those black eyes.

"I love the chef, truly do. But I don't appreciate how close they try to get to you. Did you know they tried to make you their assistant when you first got on the ship?" A loud snort escaped his mouth that was followed by cute low pitch giggles. The Professor rarely giggles until something he finds really hilarious. "As if I would allow that to happen. Having six arms really came in handy to fill out all the required paperwork for you."

"Wait a minute, you said having six arms restrict you from doing paperwork because you mix up your arms," you exclaimed pointing an accusatory finger at him. A bluish tint began to form over his skin exposed from his lab coat. He turned around and pretended to busy himself by putting the books up.

"I...don't...recall...that," he spoke extremely slowly. You let out a scoff of disbelief at his obvious lie. That is some bull and he knows it.

"Professor," you growled stomping over to him. He jumped at your tone and you saw fear wash over his face. He ran to the rolling table and held it between the two of you. "Do you know how much paperwork I have done for you in the 251 days I've been under you?"

He flinched at you and covered his face with his upper hands. "I'm sorry. You just look so cute!"

All your anger dissipated for a single second as you thought about it. The Professor thought you were cute. You, a human, deemed cute. It's been so long since someone has called you cute, excluding the Cook.

But then your anger came back in ten folds. "So you gave me extra work because you thought I was cute. How does that make any sense?"

"No, well yes. It made sense to me. When you're working, you have that cute little human tongue poking out or you would drop those cute little eyebrows. Or the way your eyes would look at me when you needed me to confirm something. It didn't help my crush on you, but it made me so happy to spend so much time with you."

Wait a minute.

"Did-did I say the c word?" He stuttered out dropping his grip off the table. A pinkish tint started to take over as his body froze up.

"Yep, you used the c word," you spoke in an airy voice due to your shock. The Professor has a crush on you. The Professor that always threw tantrums in the silliest of ways. The Professor that can go on two hour rants on the randomest of subject. The Professor that is so in love with jello that he almost threw an alien across a ship for touching his jello. That Professor has a crush on you.

"Why won't this mask go down when I need it to?" he hissed gripping the top of his mask and trying to pull it down. The mask seems to be immovable as the Professor pulled the mask with all his strength.

"So, you like me? Like, like like me?" You asked just to be sure. Maybe there was a glitch in the translator and the words weren't getting translated correctly. The english word probably isn't crush, it could be something else.

"Like? In my opinion that words seems to weak for how I feel about you. I would say maybe enraptured or maybe even love. But I know that that word is very serious to your kind and I just dropped it on you right now. Oh boy do I wish this mask could go down right now. I am so scared of the rejection to come.".

"So would you like to go on a date?"

You dropped the question. You did it. My gosh you actually just asked the Professor on a date. When was the last time you asked someone on a date?

What if this is all a prank and you just put yourself out here on the line? All the scientists could kick you off the board saying you were trying to take advantage of the Professor because you thought he wasn't in the right mind. What if the spell the Professor casted was an opposite spell, so he's saying the opposite of what he thinks? He must be disgusted by you. Oh gosh, why did you ask?

"Date? Wait!" He stuttered out as his head twitched for a split second. You felt your face heat up at him repeating the word date. His blue tongue slide out and flickered around as he struggled to say something.

"I mean you don't have to if you don't want to. I was thinking maybe a scary movie or going to the Stargazing deck. I mean, we can also go as friends if you would like," you stumbled out feeling worse as he just stared at you. "You know what, never mind. Guess it was a weird translation and this is so awkward now. I'm going to go."

You spin around quickly and briskly walked towards the exit. You were a fool to think you could be romantic with an alien. They barely saw you as a friend and here you are overstepping their boundaries. Who would want to be with the creature that has a history of being cruel and brutal to their own kind? You just have to accept this lonely life your species has laid for you.

A startled cry along with the scraping of metal on the ground caught your attention. You turned in time to see the Professor running towards you with his arms reaching towards you. One of prosthetics legs' spring caught on his lab coat and didn't come forward in time.

Almost in slow motion you watch as the Professor's face filled with even more panic. Moving around frantically, his arms tried to grab something, but nothing was there. Well, unless you count yourself.

All the air in your lungs was knocked out of you from the impact of hitting the ground and some of the weight of the Professor landing on you, he stopped most of it by sticking his arms out.

"Are you okay?" He yelped using is upper two hands to check your face and body. All of his visible skin was turning into a dark blue with small hues of green appearing. It reminded you of earth, a little.

"I'm fine, Professor. How's your leg? The spring got caught again. You really need to get that fix," you scolded him with a small glare. He has been putting off going to the Torch, the engineer scientist, for a while. His excuse being he didn't feel like having to roll around in a wheelchair.

"Forget about that. I just want to say that I would love nothing more than to go on a date on you. I like you human. No that's not it. I lo-"

You watched as his mask slammed down over his face. This thing really does have the worst timing in the world.

"Calm down," you spoke softly already knowing where this was heading. The Professor pushed himself off you and sat on his knees. All six hands went to the mask and started pulling at it with such vigor that you were worried he would break it. "Professor!"

You sat up then crawled as quickly as you could over to him. You couldn't hold down his arms, so you went for the next best option.

You placed your hands over his. It was almost like you froze him with how still he got. You brushed away his hands and rested your fingers on his cheeks. His eyes begin to soften as he leaned more into your touch.

"I don't want any part of you getting hurt, no matter if you find it annoying. I want every part of you. From your childish ways to your serious dorky self. I want all of it. I want to be with you," you spoke from the heart. This was the first time you made yourself vulnerable in front of the Professor.

His black eyes started to shimmer as tears started building up in his eyes. You couldn't see his lips, but you knew he was smiling by the crinkle in his bottom eyes.

Then a loud beeping noise interrupted the moment between you two. You glanced down at your watch to see that it was time for you to head to your lab to check the experiments. Had 30 minutes really passed so fast?

The Professor's eyes narrowed down at the watch that was still beeping. You clicked it off and glanced back up at him. He widen his eyes extremely and begin fluttering his eyelashes.

"I'm not about to be late to my experiments; it could cause the data to be messed up," you grumbled looking away from those hypnotic eyes. If you keep looking at them, then your resolve would break.

The Professor jumped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. You fell backwards again, but fell to the ground a lot gentler. The Professor's almond head dug itself into your neck allowing you to feel the coolness from his mask.

Lifting your arm, you ran your fingers around his twist and massaged his scalp. His body seemed to melt into yours at the action. Note for the future, the Professor loves to have his hair massaged.

"I have to go," you whined tapping his shoulder. He tighten his grip and shook his head. Letting out a small sigh, you stopped petting him. "How about this? I'll take the rest of the afternoon off after I check my experiments and we can have a small date in my room. I've received a new shipment of Earth's scary movies that we can watch them I'll even get us some ice cream and popcorn."

He was quick to jump off of you then. He started flickering all of his hands at you with playfully narrowed eyes. "Now you want me to leave."

He stopped the movements for a second to shake his head. Then he started them back up. So he didn't exactly want you to leave. He just wanted you to quickly return.

"Meet you in my room!" You sung out skipping out the door. The AI opened the door for you and you slide out. Before he closed it behind you, you turned around and blew the Professor a kiss. You wished he didn't have the mask on so you could see his face.

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life," the Professor whispered. You glanced down to see his eyes were still trained on the tv.

This is how it has been for the last 2 hours. When you returned from work, his mask was back up and he has been sputtering out compliments randomly.

You were sure he could feel how flustered you were by your body temperature. Everytime you would get a chance to calm down, he hits you with another line.

"When will this spell wear off?" You asked looking back at the movie screen. The main character managed to get away and decided it was a great idea to hide in the abandoned house. You've watched plenty of these to know where this was going.

"About 3 hours ago," he grumbled snuggling more into you. You froze as you realized what he said. So, it wasn't the spell causing him to say these things. It was just...him.

"Oh," you whispered in shock. He rolled over a bit and looked up at you. His twist flopped over his face and only allowed for half of his face to be viewed. The red from the tv was reflecting off his skin, making him seem as if he was glowing.

"Do you wish for me to stop?" His voice was barely a whisper, but was so deep. A small shiver went through your body from the intensity in his eyes.

"I-i never said I didn't like it," you sputtered out turning away. You ran your hands through the back of his hair and pushed his head back down.

"Good, because I think it's so cute when you get flustered." You rolled your eyes to try to seem like you weren't that flustered. But there he goes calling you cute again. He's being too adorable. "Wait, can you take out your translator for a second?"

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but nonetheless did what he said. You placed it in your left hand and looked at him expectantly. He pulled himself up on his forearms and looked down at you. The skin on his face was turning into that beautiful shade of blue and pink.

"SIvnwofuwbfoqbaivne diwocb sjfiwnxo. I…….love…..zu." The smile that came onto his face as he spoke the phrase made your heart swell so much. The way his eyes shone from the words made you believe them that much more.

"I love you too," you spoke gleefully. You leaned up and pressed your foreheads together. Feeling his cool skin embrace your warmth was a sensation that made you feel like you were on cloud 9. And knowing that this feeling will always be here because you will be able to be with him.

How did you get this lucky?

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I feel rusty at this. It's been so long since I've uploaded and I forgot how trash Tumblr is. But anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed. Please leave a comment, I love reading every single one fo them. They truly do make my day. And don't forget to like, this shows me that you like this type of content. Thank you guys for taking your time out of your day to read this. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day. ❤❤

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: you can have half 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: hyodo juza/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 3.0k words, 2 images

𝐚𝐧: my first a3! fanfiction

He was in three of your classes. Three, and not once have you gotten the chance to talk to him! Granted, you never took the initiative either but after a few months, you’d think some kind of pair or group activity would pop-up to help you out.

The two of you were even in the class with the highly-acclaimed (by the student body) matchmaker professor, and either you were too subtle with your pining or weren���t interesting enough because not once has she tried to pair you up with him, or anyone for that matter.

Seriously, what does one have to do to get close to Hyodo Juza?

There wasn’t a particular moment you could pinpoint when you fell for Juza, but rather it was an accumulation of things that got you more and more attracted to him.

His cool and tough exterior first caught your attention, from the way he dressed to his purple hair. It didn’t help at all that he was extremely attractive to you.

Then you started noticing more things about him, like how polite he was to the professors, or the tiny smile he wore when he ate the anmitsu from the school canteen, or when that one upperclassman handed him some mochi, or when the photography-club senior gave him a box of pocky.

Juza being a sweets lover? Isn’t this what they call ‘gap moe’? Ahhh, your poor heart.

“That’s it!” You exclaimed to yourself excitedly, sitting up from your bed so quickly your head hurt slightly.

“I’ll give him some sweets as a conversation starter!”

Easier said than done.

“Isn’t it awkward to just give sweets out of nowhere to a guy?” You whined, hiding your face with your arms and laying your head down on the table. Your friends sighed for the nth time within the past hour, patting your head comfortingly as the two of them looked at you incredulously.

“It’s normal to confess feelings through sweets though?”

You jolted your head back up to look at the girl. “And who said I was gonna confess?”

The disbelief on their faces increased tenfold. “You’re not?”

Grimacing at the volume of their voices, you looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. By the history books section, you locked eyes with the librarian who paused putting back returned books to glare at your table, causing you to give an awkward smile in return.

Right, library. Inside voices.

“I wanna become friends with him first, but I’m too much of a wimp to even approach him huhu…” When the two girls don’t respond, you turn to the direction where they were staring straight ahead. A slight heat spread throughout your chest and into the roots of your hair.

“Omg, yankee Barney is here.” Choking on saliva, the speed at which you turned away probably gave you whiplash.

“I was gonna go with Dibo the Delinquent Dragon, but I like yours more.”

The two crackheads were stifling their laughter and looked like they were moments away from bursting out and getting themselves kicked out of the library. “Shut up! Let me wallow in my misery in silence.”

“Oh? Since when did Elmo get so dramatic?” Feeling your face heat-up and redden further, you stood up to leave.

“I’m gonna get strawberry milk from the vending machine, go talk shit without me.” You groaned, only staying long enough to hear them laugh as loud as they could without getting caught.

...

There was only one left, and you were the only one in line. How lucky was that? You waited for the machine to do its thing and drop the milk carton through the chute.

Except it wasn’t doing its thing. Odd. Should you stick your arm in the slot? Shake the machine? Kick or punch the glass? Ask someone for help? All of the above, in that order?

Fate had decided for you.

“You, do you need help?”

Holy holy holy-

Hyodo Juza was behind you! And he was talking to you!

Okay brain, here’s the game plan. Turn around, casually ask him for help, thank him, introduce yourself then continue the conversation from there!

Except you decided to make like the vending machine and malfunction.

“I- uh- yes? Please?”

Fuck, you probably sounded dumb. What kind of first impression is this? That response would probably get you intimacy points close to none. You went outside to cool down but weren’t the heat levels rising again?

He stared at you for a second, before quickly looking away and kicking the machine. Ahh, wasn’t that really cool? He crouched down, sticking his hand through the slot before handing you the carton.

“Strawberry milk…”

It looked like he was glaring for a second, but wasn’t he staring because he actually liked the flavour? He was holding out the drink to you, but you hastily pushed his palm back towards him.

“Thanks! You can keep it since you helped me with, you know. The machine! Okay, see you in class Ju-san!” You spoke quickly, before swiftly fleeing the premises.

Back in the library, you let your head fall down on the wooden surface. “You look like crap, what happened?” Letting out a pitiful whimper, you look up at them with a pout ready on your lips.

“He probably thinks I’m weird now…” The two girls exchanged a look with each other.

“Not that you aren’t, but what you do boi?”

“Ju-san…” He murmured quietly, palming the pink and white milk box in his hand. He sat in the dorm’s living room, wondering what he should do.

Juza’s seen you before in a couple of his classes. You always sat somewhere in the middle beside your friends, taking down notes and asking questions when needed. Other than the fact that you were a hard worker, he didn’t really know anything else about you.

Until the fateful encounter today.

At first, he thought you were scared of him from the way you froze up like a mannequin. Then you turned to him, not looking afraid but definitely a little faint and red-faced. Were you sick?

That didn’t explain how you just rushed off without your drink, and that odd nickname.

Ju-san.

Ju-san.

“Juza? Are you okay?” Flinching a bit, his eyes met with Omi’s concerned amber coloured ones.

“Omi-san, I’m fine…” He replied, doing little to convince Omi who proceeded to sit down next to him.

The strawberry milk was still sitting in the purple-haired boy’s hand.

“Are you not gonna drink that?” The brunet didn’t say it aloud, but both of them knew what he meant, ‘It’s not like you to just save it for later, so something’s up.’

“Someone gave it to me.” If the 4th year student was surprised, he sure didn’t show it. Instead, he gave a smile as if he knew this would happen eventually.

“And then? Why don’t you want to drink it then?” It probably wasn’t cold anymore if he had it since class hours.

“It’s not that… it feels…” Juza trailed off, looking for a word that would describe their chance meeting.

“Weird?” Omi supplied, but he shook his head. No, that wasn’t it.

“Sudden? Confusing?”

“Both of those, I think. Also, Ju-san…”

The brunet’s ears perked up at the nickname, almost believing he misheard it. Was this Ju-chan 2: Electric Boogaloo? Ah, Juza attracts cute people, doesn’t he? Can it be that cute people see through that toughness and see his softer side? It’s certainly true with Juza’s cousin.

“So they called you that, huh. Ju-san because Ju-sa sounds like Juza?”

Said person ignored him, unaware of the pink on his cheeks. Being a good mother senpai, Omi decided to help him out. Since Juza’s been delaying drinking the milk, he probably thought he didn’t deserve a free drink out of nowhere. That was an issue with a quick and easy fix.

“I’ll help you give them something in return on Monday.”

That was enough for Juza, who finally ripped the little plastic packet and poked the straw through the carton hole.

For a lukewarm drink, it tasted particularly good today.

You spent an hour last weekend praying to a couple deities that you could start over your first meeting with Juza. Not only that, but didn’t you end up calling him something weird?

You were walking to class when your friend leaned in closer, voice quiet so only you could hear. “Alert, yankee Barney is approaching. I repeat,”

“Don’t repeat.” You mumbled, not having the nerve to respond further, watching as he slowly neared you.

“Hyodo-san? Did you need something?” His mouth twitched at that, before handing you a purple tupperware.

“For last Friday. You can give the container back tomorrow.” You stared at the purple-haired man in shock, before accepting the gift.

“Thank you, Hyodo-san. I’ll be sure to enjoy it!” He lingered for a moment, waiting to see if you’d say something else, before nodding and walking past you and your friend.

Did that just happen?

You didn’t even realise your friend had stepped away from you until she came back running and shaking you with a magnitude strong enough to make a tree collapse.

“I thought you said he was gonna think you’re weird and shit! The fuck is this then?”

“Wait hoe I’m still shookt, let me check.”

Lifting the lid, the contents inside made your mouth water, and you wouldn’t be eating lunch for another 3 hours! Cookies! The torture of having to wait to consume them. Well, one couldn’t hurt?

Delicious! And the crisp, the size, the texture- all of them were to your liking.

“Hoh— isfh— so goo—“

“Oh look, there’s a note. While you’re greedily eating your heart out, let me read it.” Your friend pointed out, before unsticking it from the plastic lid.

“Juza felt bad for the free strawberry milk, so I helped him prepare something to show his thanks. I hope you enjoy. P.S. Ju-san? That’s cute.”

You almost choked, your friend wildly patting you on the back. “What’s this? A note from his mom or something?”

“Ju-ju-san…” You muttered in embarrassment. So he did pay attention to that! Not only that, but he even told someone about it? Well, that wasn’t your biggest worry right now.

“Isn’t this too much just for one strawberry milk? I have to find a way to repay him back!” Your friend narrowed her eyes at you, before shaking her head.

“Why do I feel like this is gonna be the start of a strange back-and-forth between the two of you?”

The next day, you handed him back the purple tupperware.

“Open it, it’s my favourite from the bakery two streets down.” You told him, doing your best to mask your shyness before walking away.

As soon as you left, Juza opened it to find a slice of red-velvet cheesecake and a disposable fork inside. He’ll eat it for dessert later. As he was about to close the lid, he noticed the cute sticky note designed like a strawberry.

Thank you for the cookies, they were really good! I passed by a bakery last night and thought you’d enjoy this!

You signed it off with your name, and he realised that he never knew it until then.

He said it quietly, testing out how it sounded.

He sighed, staring at the library door which you exited from.

The school canteen had some delicious milk bread, but don’t they sell strawberry shortcake on Wednesdays?

…

Wednesday, you delightfully ate a slice of strawberry shortcake which came with a plain white sticky note with nice calligraphy from Juza.

On Thursday, Tsuzuru found Juza eating dorayaki while reading something on a pastel blue paper.

Friday came, and the usual purple tupperware had two Castella cake slices and a lined paper, clearly ripped from his notebook, folded and taped to the lid.

Juza wondered if it would stop by next week and be handed an empty tupperware, but a surge of courage must have overcome you because Monday came with brownies and a note.

I don’t want you to keep ripping pages from your notebook. Do you have Inste? Discord? If you’re up for it, I can message you there instead. Otherwise, my number is…

He placed the paper with your socials somewhere he wouldn’t lose it.

...

Monday night arrived when you got a text from an unknown number.

This is Juza.

What a simple message, but somehow your heart fluttered. Your phone dinged again when you got a follow notification on Inste. Scrambling to follow him back and check out his posts, you didn’t know whether to laugh or be amazed when you saw that the posts there were purely promotional for MANKAI plays, some of which he wasn’t even in.

You took a screenshot of the image of him with the vest and purple tie and asked about the play.

It may not have been in person, but that marked the longest conversation you’ve had with Juza so far. Somehow the two of you went from talking about acting to food, to hobbies and complaining about teachers and before either of you knew it, it was midnight.

A couple days pass by and its Thursday night when people notice a change in Juza. Particularly, his phone habits.

“He’s not as bad as Itaru, Banri, and Kazunari but…” Tsuzuru trails off, looking at Omi who only seemed amused.

“He’s been spending a lot of time talking to someone is all.” The two of them turned their heads back to the first year as he let out a small laugh.

Three weeks in the food exchange and the two of you began having actual conversations in real life. It started when he handed you the purple tupperware, asking how you were and how your weekend was.

It somehow resulted in the two sitting together during classes, and having lunch together when Omi and Tsuzuru were busy.

You began to wonder who would break the streak.

You were running late. Maybe it was a bad idea to rush an essay worth a good chunk of your grade in the span of 8 hours, but somehow you managed to complete it at 3 am.

Thank god for online submissions. You wouldn’t be able to stand a noisy printer at this hour.

After plugging in your laptop and phone to make sure it would be fully charged before classes start later, you flop onto your bed to take a well-deserved rest.

When you woke up, it was 11 am.

Shit, you just missed a 3-hour lecture. Shit raised to the power of two Juza was in that class. Would he be worried that you weren’t there?

It looks like you’ll be the first to turn in an empty tupperware.

Still, you have a plan B prepared.

...

Juza was worried. When you messaged last night you hadn’t mentioned being sick at all. Had something happened? Sure, he didn’t get to message you that much over the weekend because of increasing practice hours but you’d definitely say something.

Omi and Tsuzuru eyed Juza as discretely as they could. No purple tupperware, no wonder he was upset. It went unsaid, but it clearly stopped being about the surprise desserts every other day and more about the person giving them.

“Ju-san!” An unfamiliar voice reached the former two’s ears, but the latter was clearly well acquainted with it based on his reaction. All three men turned around to see you, smiling and holding out Juza’s favourite food.

It was anmitsu with cream, specifically the one from the campus canteen.

“They wouldn’t let me put it in the tupperware, but will you accept it anyway?”

Did he look like he cared where the anmitsu was placed? Sure, it made him happy that despite skipping a class she still remembered to get him something, even more, his favourite dish, but…

“You didn’t show up to class a while ago.” Juza was frowning. You knew he usually gave off an angry disposition, but this was different.  

“Sorry, I was up ’til 3 am and forgot to turn on any alarms, haha.” He sighed.

“So the goodnight text then was-“

“A lie so you wouldn’t scold me for it, which obviously didn’t work in my favour.”

Having previously failed to notice the two upperclassmen, you turned to greet them, introducing yourself as Juza’s friend. “Sorry to disturb your lunch.”

Omi smiled. He introduced himself, as did Tsuzuru. So this was his troupe mate’s special friend. “Not at all. Have you eaten? You’re welcome to join us.”

Too tired to protest, you thanked him and sat down beside the purple-haired boy. “I just rushed here without eating, actually. Oh, I should probably get my lunch-“ You proceed to stand back up, but a firm hold of your arm from Juza stops you.

“You can have half.” He says, sliding a lunch set with a serving size you didn’t even know the university provided.

“What?”

“You slept through breakfast time, too. We can share.” He insisted, clearly not accepting no for an answer.

You take the unused chopsticks and begin to prod at the side dishes. “Fine, but now I owe you something. Should I get you banana milk from the vending machine?”

Juza looked away for a second, eyes hesitant as he glared at the anmitsu instead of you. When he looked back, he seemed to be filled with resolve.

“Then watch me… Autumn Troupe’s next upcoming play, I mean.”

For a moment you felt heat beginning to encompass your body, but quickly tried to shake it off. Of course Juza meant his acting.

“Obviously I’m watching it. Opening night and closing night, if I can help it.” You insisted. As if you would miss the chance to see him on stage. Sure, your massive crush on him wasn’t gonna go away any time soon, but to be able to see him do something he was extremely passionate about?

“Quick, help me finish lunch already so you can enjoy your anmitsu, Ju-san.”

...

The two of you somehow forgot the presence of Omi and Tsuzuru, both of whom were listening to your conversation intently.

“Then watch me? Seriously, lines like that can be interpreted…”

“I think we’ve become the third and fourth wheel, Tsuzuru.”

want to order again?

[peachebunnys]

Pain, with love V

pairing: Horacio Carrillo x reader

summary: Arranged marriages are tough, but add that with have a drug lord on the loose? Horacio Carrillo can only imagine what’s coming for him. 

warnings: none

a/n: I want to thank Twice for making the song ‘Feel Special’ which evidently inspired majority of this chapter :) Yet another filler lmao, things will pick up pace next chapter I promise 

4.2k words

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4

Chapter 5;

The constant cooing that came from the nearby window had woken Horacio up. A pigeon, in colours of black and white, was staring straight at him from the ledge, peeking past the undrawn curtains. Horacio blinked away the slumber, eyes trained on the bird as it continued looking at him, with an expression that he was sure was unamusement. 

The room was bright again, indicating the dawn of a new day as the sunlight shines yet again into the huge bedroom. It has been almost two weeks since Horacio and you moved into this place, but his items still sat by the door in brown boxes that were already collecting dust. He noticed that your items have been placed away, and the only thing left was Horacio’s personal memorabilia. There weren’t many things that Horacio kept with him, with just enough to fill two small boxes that were piled up on one another, neatly placed next to the huge oakwood shelf that was home to your vast collection of books. He hadn’t seen you read yet, but he blames it on the fact that he hadn’t been home enough to notice. 

His thick case file that he was going through the night before had documents sprawled across the floor, papers now disorderly unlike the way it was when Horacio had first brought it into the room. He silently cursed, asking himself why was it that he kept dropping items on the floor, especially in the mornings. 

He tries to turn his body to lie on his right arm, only to realise that there was a dead weight preventing him from doing so. Peeking downwards, he was pleasantly surprised to see you, curled up in his arms and still fast asleep despite the noises that came from outside. The sound of nearby cars and birds did nothing to budge you from your slumber, and Horacio was starting to think that maybe you were the heavy sleeper instead. 

Your hair was a mess, strands covering your face as you tucked your head into the crook of his neck. His left arm was still around you, holding you against him as he gently stroked your shoulder in a comforting manner. Thoughts of the night before came back to him, and he continued running his fingers through your hair, smiling how close you were snuggling him throughout the night. Horacio, from his current laid position, could see the twinkle of the diamonds that decorated his wedding band, reflecting off the morning sun. 

His arm was starting to fall asleep, with that static-like feeling that he was all too familiar with after years of being in the Police Force. As much as he wanted to move away from you, he didn’t want to risk waking you up, especially since you were still in deep slumber. The room suddenly felt way too hot all of a sudden, and Horacio opted to remove the blankets that covered his body, only to find that your left leg rested on top of his.

She’s practically clinging onto me, he thought, letting out a shaky breath.

Your soft smooth skin against Horacio was starting to make him redden, and he covered your tangled legs with the blanket again, head leaning back into his pillow as he thought of what he could do to leave this compromising position. 

You shifted again, and Horacio instinctively closed his eyes, pretending to still be asleep to avoid any awkward confrontations. Your hand, which was once tucked under your body, had now rested on Horacio’s chest. You moved in closer to him, basking in the warmth that he radiated from his body, while still being very much asleep. Horacio peeked at you again, noticing your soft snores as you continued cuddling him, pushing him closer to the edge of the bed. 

This would’ve been nice, if it weren’t for the fact that Horacio’s left arm was starting to ache badly. He thinks through the many ways he could get out of this situation without waking you up, in which he came to the conclusion - he couldn’t. The way your head rested so nicely on his biceps made him wonder if it was a comfortable position for you to sleep in. He couldn’t possibly imagine his bulging muscles were soft enough to lie on, let alone sleep on throughout the night.

He takes a quick breath and grips your head pillow tightly, sitting up so he could move you properly. He gently cradled your head with his free hand, lifting you up just enough till he has you on your side of the bed, resting comfortably on your pillow. He retracts his arm, now firmly massaging the muscles as it started to throb with pain, the static-like feeling now flooding his entire limb. Still on his knees above you, he pays little attention to you, missing the way your eyes were starting to flutter open. 

His face was merely inches away from yours, still occupied with kneading his fingers against his muscles to notice the close proximity between the two of you. The sunlight illuminated half of his face, his brown eyes becoming a more prominent hazelnut shade that was so beautiful, you almost felt yourself get lost in them. You had let out a soft gasp, which made Horacio snap his head towards you, staring at your half asleep state. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, did I wake you up?” His voice was smooth and deep, laced with concern that made you squirm from under the sheets. 

“No,” you paused, noticing he was still so close to you, doing nothing about the current situation, “you didn’t.”

 His stubble was starting to grow, the small hairs long enough to give that scratchy texture that you so desperately wanted to feel, and in the heat of the moment - you did.

 Horacio’s eyes widened by the tenfold, his heart racing as your soft palms cupped the right side of his face. Your eyes were focused on his growing stubble, ghosting your fingers along his jawline to feel the slight prickly feeling. 

Horacio slowly brought his hand up, holding yours against his skin as the two of you stared at each other, almost like in a trance. His lips were so pink and full, something you were sure was soft as well. Your eyes danced around his face as you observed how intently he was staring back at you, eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite pin down. 

You were looking back at him, mouth slightly agape, and Horacio wanted nothing more than to kiss you and feel your soft lips against his. There was something so intoxicating about you in this moment, and how you looked at him with admiration. He was practically drunk on the feeling of how you were so addicting, like a force between the two of you that was pulling him in. He could, he thought, he could do it right now if he wanted to.

He could lean his head just a bit forward and kiss you, giving in to the temptation to finally feel your lips against his. You could sense the conflict in Horacio and you gently rubbed your thumb over his cheek, smiling as he leaned into your touch just a bit.

“Thank you,” you spoke up, breaking the silence between the two of you, “for comforting me last night. It really meant a lot to me that you were there for me.”

Horacio blinked slowly, struggling to fight the temptation that wanted him to pull you close to him, just as he did last night. “I know how tough it can get when you lose a loved one,” he smiles sympathetically at you, “I see it almost everyday at work.”

Your thumb had stopped caressing his face, and now your expression took a more serious one.

You shifted your position to look at him properly, letting out a shaky breath before you continued.

“Horacio, promise me one thing,” you plead. Your eyes staring straight at him, searching for something that Horacio could only wish he knew what it was. “Promise me you’ll be safe, and that you won’t purposely put yourself in harm’s way again.” 

Horacio opened his mouth, almost replying to your request until he caught a glimpse of your eyes, now blurry with unshed tears. 

“I know this relationship between us is still new but,” your voice was getting higher, mind plagued with thoughts of the fact that your husband could die at any minute out on field, “I don’t want to lose you too, I don’t want to be alone again.”

The tears spill down your face, rolling slowly down your temple as you shifted your position in bed, hand still cupping Horacio’s face gently. He swallows slowly, adam’s apple bobbing up and down as your words settle in his head. It was true that he could potentially die out there, as the war on drugs was an unforgiving one. You even witnessed it first hand when he had stumbled home, covered in blood that was unfortunately his, almost bleeding to death in your hands. Even so, you doubt this was the worst he’s seen, and that made you panic.

This incident made you realise that you were just one call away from becoming a widow, and the nightmare of your father the night before had opened your eyes to the imminent danger Horacio faced every day at work. You could lose him, and when- no, you refused to think that way. If something bad were to happen to him, you wouldn’t know what you’d do with yourself. 

As he held you in his arms last night, you thought about how the rest you’ve gotten was the best you had since the passing of your father. There was just something about Horacio that made you feel so safe, like nothing in this world could hurt you as long as he was here next to you. You didn’t miss the way Horacio’s eyes were also starting to get glassy as well, closing his eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath. 

He was close enough that you could smell the faint scent of bergamot and wood, a scent so uniquely his that you’ve grown to love. The gears in his head were still turning, and you slowly brought your hand down from his cheek. His focus was on you, smiling as you waited for his answer, in which he replied with absolute conviction. 

“I promise.”

The way he had said it, the promise and the weight behind the words gave you chills. You nodded at him, wiping away the stray tears from your face. You turned your head to notice a whole flock of pigeons by the window, cooing and fluttering their feathers against the glass panels. You could hear the children on the streets giggling and screaming with joy, indicating that the day had already begun. 

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Horacio already moving out of bed and heading towards the bathroom. As soon as the door closes behind him, your body relaxes and you stare at the ceiling, thinking back to the conversation that you had earlier. You move to curl your body into a ball, too deep in thought to notice Horacio coming out of the toilet and staring at you, heart breaking at how upset you looked. He didn’t think he would’ve had this conversation with you so soon, but it looked like his injuries had bothered you more than he anticipated, making his heart ache at how much he’s unintentionally hurt you. He slowly walks over to you, footsteps light as he takes a seat next to you on the bed. 

“Hey,” he calls out, “you should wash up, I’ll prepare you breakfast.”

“Oh no Horacio it’s ok-”

“I insist, please.” His eyes twinkled as he moved towards the door, “what was it that you liked again, eggs?” 

You let out a soft gasp at his question, “you’ve noticed?”

He scoffed, eyes widening as his face had a very telling ‘are you serious’ look, “you’ve been eating it almost every meal.”

Without a second thought, you slapped yourself on the forehead, totally forgetting the fact that the two of you have been eating together more often lately, “oh right, I forgot.”

He beams at you, head tilting over to the direction of the door, “I’ll see you in a bit then.”

The eggs in question were surprisingly good, and you were pleased to find out that something so simple could be even more delicious than it already was. You practically devoured it, licking your fork as you finished your meal. Horacio grinned at how you ate so quickly and continued finishing up his meal, taking both of your plates once the two of you were done. 

“Maybe you should rest today, I’ll handle the household chores.” Horacio had poured the soap on the dishes, reaching out for the sponge by the sink. 

“You’re kidding!”

“No,” he eyes you with amusement, “I’m not.”

You walk over towards him, grinning from ear to ear as you watched him carefully clean the plates. “Alright then, let me give you a list of chores that need to be done by today.”

Horacio paused to look up at you, noticing your gleeful expression. You started looking around the room, observing the various items in silence. You were an arm’s length away from him, deep in thought before quickly rattling off the things he needed to do for the day. Which was unsurprisingly a lot.

“Could you wash the curtains, and bedsheets today? Oh, and we’re out of some groceries like milk, onions, cheese and carrots. I think today is a good day for you to pack away all your belongings too, the boxes by the doors? And before I forget, please do the laundry too, the sun is out so it’d be a good time to finally dry them.”

Horacio frowns as you listed out the activities, mentally trying to remember what you had just mentioned while counting on his fingers. His head was tilted to the side, lost in thought before being disrupted by your light smacking on his arm, “too much to handle?”

“Of course not, I’ll do all of it for you.”

You watch as he continues cleaning the dishes, muscles flexing every time he exerted strength to clean a tough stain. It certainly was a sight to behold, you thought, something you could definitely get used to. However, as time went by, you noticed his unusually stiff movements, especially when he had crouched to pick up the fallen rag. His body jerked up and he immediately gripped his sides, clear that his wounds were still causing him pain.

Oh!

You had forgotten to change his bandages!

You walked over to him, hand gently resting on his broad shoulders, waiting for him to look up at you before you spoke. “Let me re-medicate your wounds for you, it seems like both of us have forgotten to tend to your bandages.”

Horacio looked up at you, noticing your gentle smile towards him. He could feel his heartbeat quicken as you slowly dragged your palm down his shoulders and to his arm. 

He wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t used to someone looking out for him and wanting to be near him. 

For years he has been living alone, delving into work without giving a second thought towards having a relationship with anybody. He was always so busy, more at work than at home most of the time. Horacio didn’t even think he would ever get married, and the idea of being in a relationship with someone was a distant one - if not there at all. 

His parents, when they heard of your father’s final wish, were taken aback to say the least. They weren’t quite sure themselves if it was a good idea to wed their work-obsessed son to their best friend's daughter, afraid she would spend more nights alone than with him. Horacio was the one who told them he’d make it work somehow, and here he was, trying to do exactly that. 

Having you wake up next to him, bodies entangled to no end, made Horacio realise how badly he always wanted a domestic lifestyle - to just relax for once, with his lover in his arms as he softly sang them a song from his childhood, sharing fleeting smiles and kisses. 

But you weren’t his lover, not when everything he feels for you was one sided.

Loneliness.

The more time he spent with you, the more he yearned for a normal life with you. How he wished that everything was different. That he wasn’t a cop, or that this relationship wasn’t arranged, and that the two of you had genuinely fallen in love with each other. Maybe then, would he be able to take you in his arms, just as he wanted to now. 

“Horacio?” Your eyebrows were cocked up in confusion, “you alright?”

He stuttered out a response, managing to answer ‘yes’ to your question as he slowly stood up from his position. He walked over to the nearby stool to take a seat, removing his soft cotton tee without hurry. He tossed the shirt over onto the counter, looking back at you as you gathered all the items needed to clean his wounds. 

You took out the bandages, one by one, and Horacio was starting to feel the slight sting of the cool air against his skin. His breathing had become laboured again, feeling your soft touch against his chest. You began dipping the clean cloth in medicated water, lightly dabbing it on the area around the punctured skin. 

He could tell you were getting nervous, hands trembling ever so slightly as you struggled to replace the first bandage. Horacio noticed your eyes were once again watery, blinking away harshly to prevent them from falling like they did this morning. 

“Don’t,” his large hands holding your smaller wrists tenderly. He shakes his head as you look right at him, eyes wide and welcoming, “I’ve already promised you, haven’t I?”

You sniffle, silently nodding at him as you plastered the bandage onto him. You managed to steady your hands the rest of the time, glancing up at him to see if he was facing any form of discomfort, only to be met with a reassuring smile. God, how was he even more handsome up close? His high cheekbones, beautiful brown eyes and comforting smile was doing nothing to ease the butterflies in your stomach. You were practically acting like a schoolgirl who had a crush, swooning over how gentle Horacio was being with you. 

You carefully finished patching him up, silently admiring the good work you did as soon as it was over. You packed away the medkit and walked over to wash your hands, hearing the loud scraping noise from the stool as Horacio moved out of his seat to continue his chores. 

“Horacio,” you quickly glanced over at him, “I’ll help you out, it’s too much for one person to do!”

“Nonsense! If you can do it all by yourself, so can I.”

“Horacio, you’re injured, remember? I don’t want to risk the wounds opening up again and getting infected.”

Horacio pauses in thought, thinking over your words before reluctantly putting away the broom he was currently holding, “what would you like me to do now?”

You move your head in direction of the stove, signalling him to come over. “Since you cook like a five star michelin chef, why don’t you cook lunch for us?”

“You sound sarcastic about the chef part,” his frown deepened as he registered your words.

“I’m not! I swear! You’re really good at cooking, should’ve become a chef, huh?”

He beams at your words, walking over to the refrigerator to take out the food, “that’s what years of staying alone does to you, I couldn’t just eat eggs everyday.”

“What? I wouldn’t have minded that.”

“I know you wouldn’t have,” he places all the ingredients out on the kitchen counter, washing the vegetables under the sink before placing them in a bowl, “you’re the first person I’ve ever met who loved eggs so much.”

“That’s impossible! Eggs are amazing! You can have them in so many ways! Scrambled, hard-boiled, sunny side up, soft boiled, and those are just to name a few.” Your fingers were up, counting the various ways to consume the eggs. 

You were now leaning over the kitchen counter, watching how swiftly Horacio chopped up the vegetables. You were in a trance, mesmerised by how he was so quickly chopping up the onions and placing them in a bowl next to you. The rhythmic thud of the knife against the chopping board was so pleasing to hear, and if you didn’t have anything else to do at that moment, you were sure you would’ve watched Horacio cook all day.  

“Don’t you have anything else to do?” Horacio’s once serious face breaking into a huge grin. 

“Sorry?”

“Oh you know, like washing the curtains, doing the laundry or buying the groceries?” He teases, eyes sparkling with mischief as he glanced up at you. 

You let out a loud groan, dragging yourself towards the laundry basket, carrying the bulky item towards the yard, “alright alright, I’ll see you later then!”

The rest of the day went by smoothly, with the two of you working together to finish up the chores quickly. By the end of the day, the two of you were spent, resting your bodies for what felt like the first time in forever.  

Horacio was busy with his case files again, studying each detail carefully under the warm orange light that came from the bedside lamp. You watched him flip over the pages every few minutes, eyebrows tightly knitted together as he scribbled notes by the margin of the documents. 

The room was cold again, but luckily it was clear out, with the moonlight shining into the room and onto the foot of your bed. You absentmindedly ran your fingers over your left hand, feeling the ring on your finger and smiling to yourself. 

Just by spending two full days alone with Horacio, did you start to learn a lot about him. Like how he always intently listens to you share stories about your childhood, or how he would always be there to help you with anything, no matter how small the favour. These were the things about him that you found endearing, that only ramped up your butterflies whenever he was close to you. You knew that he struggled with words to say to you, but even so did he remember to always thank you for helping him, showing his gratitude in other ways like offering you food to eat - knowing that whatever he cooked was definitely going to be your new favourite. 

You listened to the soft hooting from nearby owls, eyes fluttering close as you allowed your body to succumb to its exhaustion. The wildlife sounds from beyond your windows were like a soft melody, lulling you to sleep before you even knew it. 

Horacio too, was struggling to keep his eyes open again, yawning ever so often as he continued looking through the file. As he flipped the pages, he heard your soft snores which made him realise you had fallen asleep rather swiftly - on a more peaceful note this time. 

He studied your sleeping form, thinking back to the events that happened throughout the day. How you were so good to him, and how he didn’t quite believe he deserved all the kindness you gave. The encouraging smiles and compliments you whispered to him whenever he did a chore well was something he never knew needed, and it only made him yearn for you more. 

He didn’t think it would be possible to catch feelings this quickly, but boy was he falling for you fast. Like a drug, he couldn’t get enough of the feeling you kept giving him - as if he meant everything to you in the world. 

But he knew better. 

He doubted you felt the same way, especially since everything between the two of you was happening so rapidly. And so he decided to keep it to himself, in hopes that maybe his feelings will be buried amidst other things. 

He takes one last glance at you, noticing how soundly you slept next to him, closing the gaps between the two of you just as you did the night before. His heart melted, watching you with a smile on his face as he finally switched off the lights, placing his case file on the nightstand.   

He rubbed his eyes roughly, letting out a soft sigh as he turned his body towards you. Horacio felt your hand instinctively rest on his stomach, leaning closer to bathe in the warmth he exuded. He thus moved closer to you, pulling the blankets to cover the both of you entirely. 

With your hand resting on his chest, his heartbeat spiked again, cursing himself over how a small gesture could make him feel so much. He closed his eyes, feeling himself slip into a gentle slumber, to only the sounds of your soft snores and the ticking of the clock that bounced around the room. 

Maybe it’ll work out, but it wasn’t falling in love that Horacio was afraid of. 

It was falling in love with someone he felt deserved better. 

Falling in love with you. 

[butterbeeryuta]

chapter 2: shit colour schemes, bugs, and vegetables

This place looked nothing like hell. The moment we landed, we were placed in one luxurious apartment with a private pool and shit. How is this hell?

Purple-horn lady cleared her throat as she clasped her hands together. ‘Welcome to Hell 127. As you can see, you have a rather gorgeous apartment here, and is probably a very different image of what you thought hell was meant to look like. But that is only because humans are stupid. Keep yourselves warm and welcome, and ya’ll can call me later if you need any help, yeah?’. We all nodded at her, wanting her to leave as soon as possible. If it was not obvious enough, we wanted to have a magical vacation here in Hell 127. Imagine all the films I can watch forever, or even maybe paint forever— this is just simply amazing and irreplaceable. What she said made sense though. Maybe we are dumb because of what we perceive hell to be. From an early age, we learn that hell is a place for ‘bad people’ regardless of what your religion was. Of course, there was no possible way for living individuals to know how hell actually looks like, but damn are we brainwashed. In a matter of a second, the purple woman disappeared, and it was just us 13 embarrassed breathing-yet-not-breathing corpses.

‘Is it only me, or I really want to jump in that pool’ the girl with midnight blue hair asked. We all looked at her direction, not expecting the sudden voice to speak out. My eyes followed where she was looking, and I must say, the pool looked inviting. The clear water had pink and purple led lights shining on the edges; it was a whole disco party in a form of a pool. I love hell.

‘Didn’t you die from jumping in a pool and drowning for your Instagram feed?’ A rather deep female voice questioned.

BITCH YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THAT I—

The boy with caramel hair snorted at the girl’s comment, whereas Mark’s laugh filled all of our ears. I had this sudden urge to comfort the attacked girl, but I also wanted to high-five the other person for such bravery? Huh… no wonder I’m in hell. I’m just as mean as kpop stans on Twitter. Poor attacked pretty girl tightened her lips immediately, almost as if she was stopping herself from throwing an insult back. Or maybe she was just at loss of words. If it wasn’t obvious enough, I am absolutely terrible at reading people. And to think I wanted to be a psychologist. Considering we were technically going to live with each other for eternity, I had this sudden need to diffuse the tension, and being the natural leader I am since I was an art teacher for fuck’s sake—

‘Are you feeling ashamed that we all know how you died?’ A man with dark red hair asked.  My thoughts were immediately cut short when he began to speak… and now I want to choke him for interrupting me. Perhaps I have a temper problem. Perhaps. The girl nodded a ‘yes’ at him, which only made the man give her a small smile. He had a pretty smile, I’ll admit that. But that gives me more of a reason for wanting to kill him. Though, there is probably no use in doing so since we are all dead anyway and well, we’re all in hell.

‘Well, don’t feel bad. My name is Yuta, and we all had embarrassing deaths. There isn’t a need to feel ashamed or upset sweetheart—‘

‘Oh cut the crap Yuta, stop flirting with people. I’m Johnny by the way. If you think he’s a therapist or something, no he isn’t.’ A 6’0” man interrupted him, which only made the so-called Yuta glare at the tall guy.

‘Ya’ll know each other?’ I asked, which for some reason caused Mark to nudge me. I raised my left eyebrow at him, giving him a ‘what the fuck’ look, but I probably should have guessed it: the bitch actually died from embarrassment, of course he’d be nervous talking to anyone.

‘Uh, yeah. Yuta is a drug dealer, and I was his personal accountant. We died together from stupidly running away from the cops and ran straight into a wall and well… a wall killed us’ Johnny said, scratching the back of his head, clearly not proud of his death. If I thought Mark’s laughter couldn’t get louder and funnier, it just did. Naturally, everyone laughed along with him, including myself. And just like that, we all got inside, sat on the huge couch, and got to know each other’s names and how we pathetically left Mother Earth. The blue hair woman turned out to be an ‘influencer’ on Instagram based in Korea— Jung Wheein. She claimed that she already knew that influencer wasn’t an appropriate term since she just posts pictures of herself, but it gave her money nonetheless. The girl who exposed her death was Ryujin; she had short dark hair, which only added to her ‘mysteriousness’ if that made sense. She didn’t tell us her story though. All we know is that she was an international student in Germany. The man who was ‘laughing in joy’ while watching his own death was Moon Taeil. His death was probably the least embarrassing compared to all of us since it wasn’t his fault. He was riding a horse and fell off midway and well… you know the rest. The rest of the people were Rosé, Jaemin, Jungwoo, Yuna, Momo, and Donghyuck. I would like to tell you their stories, but I honestly stopped listening. This is completely irrelevant, but that Jungwoo kid has been making heart eyes to everyone and I do not know what to feel about it.

We all eventually decided to call it a day, and because hell is such a magnificent place, we all had our own rooms with our names beautifully written on the door in gold. The first floor was already beautiful itself; a huge L-shaped leather couch with a perfectly carved wooden centre table to give it that home-like touch. The kitchen was huge as well, which made Jaemin squeal in happiness because he apparently liked to cook a lot. The kitchen matched the modern theme in the living room. The greyish marble decorated the room with a touch of dark brown to further amplify the modern vibe. It was like those pictures you see in model houses. The second floor carried out the same aesthetic. The only difference was that there was one corridor with 13 doors all spread out; 6 rooms on the left, and 7 rooms on the right. This was probably the first thing I didn’t like in this paradise-hell. It’s just too narrow and crowded, but who am I to complain. After saying our good night’s to one another, I walked up to the door with my name displayed on it: ‘___________ _____________.’ Taking a deep breath, my cold hand turned the knob. 

Second biggest mistake of my life. Or afterlife per se.

What the fucking hell is this?

It was every art teacher’s nightmare. The colours of the room did not match at all, and the chosen textures of the fabrics and cloths made no sense. Who the fuck uses terrycloth, or towel cloth, as bedsheets? Who matches neon green with pale pink? And the paintings that were hanging on the room, they’re incomplete! The only good thing about this room was that I had my own poorly designed bathroom, but other than that, it made me want to go blind. Was everyone’s room like this? I left the room, not wanting to believe that I was assigned to that disastrous room. I knocked on Mark’s door to check since I technically tackled him in the plane. We have a relationship alright.  

Nothing.

I knocked again.

Nothing.

Before I could knocked on the third time, I heard a muffled sob through the door. Was he crying?

‘Mark? Can I come in?’ I softly asked, unsure if what I did was the right thing.

‘S-sure, it m-might be scary-y though s-so try not to get f-frightened’ the poor boy stuttered through his tears. Did he find the colour scheme of the bedroom to be that bad? Unsure of what to expect, I slowly opened the door and, it was nothing like my room. The room had a white and yellow colour scheme, with those glow-in-the-dark stars scattered across the ceiling, resembling a child’s bedroom. Nothing was scary to be honest, until I saw what type of pictures were posted on the cream walls: bugs. Mark was scared of bugs. Mark was sitting on the floor with his knees tucked towards his chest, whereas his tear-stained face was hidden in his arms. As if he was my student, I crouched down next to him as I slowly rubbed his back.

‘Mark, they’re just pictures, they won’t harm you. But if it bothers you so much, should I take them down for you?’ I gently asked as I tried to calm him down. His teary doe eyes locked with mine, and he whispered a mumbled ‘yes’ through his croaked voice. I sighed in response, returning him a nod so he knows that I will take it off. Grabbing a picture by the corner I ripp— okay wow this glue is strong. Grabbing a picture by the corner with both of my hands, I harshly took it of— why isn’t it coming off? 

‘Uh Mark, it’s not coming off’ I said, trying my best to pull it out, but it just won’t budge.

‘SOMEONE SWITCH ROOMS WITH ME WHY ARE THERE VEGETABLES ALL OVER THE PLACE THIS IS NOT COOL!’ Donghyuck shouted, which was soon followed by a shut of his door.

What the fuck is happening? 

a/n: hehehehe i’m so ready to get to the main story in. bby mark is so precious omg protect him from this world 🥺as always, if you’d like to be added in the taglist, just let me know through asks <3

taglist: @ta3ilmoon​ @lelenoir​ @murasakillmepls​ @neolights​ @anothermessedupbitch​

back to masterlist?

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Forever- Utter Nonsense Drabble... 40 Questions!

Yeah so don’t ask me where this came  from, but I saw these floating around and for some reason decided it would be funny if Steve and Katie answered  some of them instead of me...

I think the original post was from @odaatlover​  and I think I was taggeed by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​. Anyway, I took my favourite ones and this was the result...enjoy!

1. What’s one animal you wish you could have as a pet but can’t?

Katie: I’d kinda like a tiger. They’re so graceful and  pretty but pack a mean bite and you wouldn’t mess with one would you?

Steve: Who does that remind you of?

2. Favorite thing to wear to sleep?

Steve: (grinning) Nothing.

Katie : I can confirm that is also my favourite thing he sleeps in...

3. What song really gets you going?

Katie: In what way? If it’s to dance and just act like a crazy fool to then its always going to be “Back in Black” because it reminds me a lot of Tony and happy times growing up. But if its one to spark memories then its our wedding song.

Steve: “The Only One In Color” by Trapt. I also kinda like the John Legend song  “You and I” because it reminds me of her, you know, the bit aout trying on every damned out fit she ownes before we can go out.

Katie: I don’t do that.

Steve looks at Katie, eyebrow raising.

Katie: Ok, maybe I can be a little incecisive....but tha wasn’t really the point of the...you know what, never mind. Next...

4. Where do you usually eat your meals?

Steve: It depends. If its breakfast or lunch dring the week then it’s usual eaten on the go whilst we’re getting the kids sorted or I’m in between classes...but dinner, well we always try and sit down. And at weekends we always eat at the table with the kids. 

5. Favorite meal: breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

Katie: Dinner. During the week Steve and I eat a little bit later than the kids so we have that time to ourselves just to decompress and talk about our day, have a bit of us time...and at weekend we’re al together so I love it.

Steve: I love it for all those reasons, and also because she’s the best damned cook on the planet.

6. Most embarrassing habit?

Katie: Erm...

Steve: It’s pretty embarassing when you throw a Brat tantrum about something.. Katie: I don’t do that in public.

Steve: Bullshit. I refer you to the whole car purchasing situation a few years ago.

Katie: Jamie was only a baby...I was hormonal.

Steve: Hormonal my ass, you were being a brat.

Katie:  Whatever.  Yours is definately the need to stand with your hands on your hips and give someone your Captain look, especially when it’s someone you have never met before but they just happen to be doing something to piss you off.

Steve:  I make no apologies for this.  People can be idiots.

7. Chocolate or fruity candy?

Both at same time: Chocolate.

Steve: Preferably British.  Cadbury’s to be specific. I got a taste for it when I was in London during the war.

Katie: He has a secret stash he hides from the kids...it’s great to blackmail him with.

8. Soft or hard tacos?

Steve: Soft

Katie: Hard

Steve: Although hard ones always remind me of when you went into labour with Jamie.  We were making them for lunch and you had a contraction and crushed one...

Katie: Oh yeah, maybe soft in that case...because that was painful.  And then I went throguh that another 3 times.Which is your fault.

Steve: I take full responsibility, yes. 

9. Worst way to break up a fight?

Katie: Walk into the middle of it and say “Prove it, put the hamer down...” Steve: sighs, That was one time.

Katie: And it levelled a forest.

Steve: Did it work?

Katie: Hmmm, suppose so.

Steve: There you go ...but if its a fight between us, the I can think of the best way to break it up...

Katie : grinning, yeah...that’ s pretty funny. Or the worst one is telling you you’re in the spare room.

Steve: Yeah...that sucks.

10. Best thing to say in an elevator of strangers?

Katie: Putting on deep voice “Before we get started, does anyone wanna get out?”

Steve: Sighing  I wish I had some smart reply to that bu I don’t...

Katie: No, you just threw us out the side of the damned thing from 14 storeys up

Steve: 19

Katie: That’s...that’s not better Steve.

11. Any hidden talents?

Steve: Not so much hidden really but I’m not a bad artist and Katie’s singing and piano playing is off the scale.

Katie: Steve’s really good at DIY. Like, brilliantly good.  And also pretty savvy with technology all things considered...

Steve: When you say all things considered you mean because I’m like 112

Katie: Actually, you’re like 127 if you count the 15 years you spent back in time after putting the stones back.

Steve: hesitates I thought you said they didn’t count because I didn’t spend them with you.

Katie: They don’t, but they still happened.

12. Socks or bare feet around the house?

Steve: Socks

Katie: Bare feet

Steve: Neither of those protect you from standing on lego, which for the record, I reckon has to be a pain worse than chilbirth.

Katie:  Seriously? You’re going there?

Steve: Ok, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration but it still hurts like hell.

13: Favorite board game?

Katie: Monopoly. Its funny to watch Emmy and Jamie getting really agitated and annoyed. The younger 3 don’t really get it, Rori just likes to help Steve by sorting all his money into piles and suggesting things he can spend it on.

Steve: Namely tutus and tap shoes...she still wants to be chorus girl.

14:Heat on or keep it cold with lots of layers?

Katie: Oh my God. Steve is a nightmare as he runs hotter than any of us, so whilst we want the fire or heat on he’s complaining he’s boiling hot all the time. Our bedroom is like an ice block.

Steve: Doll, I’ve been in an ice block. Trust me, our bedroom is like a furnace in comparison.

Katie: It si nice though, like sleeping with a big hot  water bottle.

15: At what age did you first have alcohol?

Katie: I’m sure Tony gave me beer when I was 15 or something but the first time I ever got drunk was aged 17. I went to a keg party at one of my friends and I was aboslutely shit faced. Tony held my hair back whilst i puked my guts upt for a good hour once I was home. I had the hangover to end all hangovers the next day and he cracked JARVIS up to maximum volume just to teach me a lesson.

Steve:  I think I was 18. Me and Buck drank a bottle of his dad’s home made hooch...yeah, it didn’t take me much to get me drunk back then and I was very, very illl. Ma thought I had a fever. Mr Barnes thought it was hilarious, but still gave us both a slap upside th head...

16. What’s the most amount of money you’ve spent on a single item of clothing?

Katie: I would say my wedding dress, but Tony bought that for me, so it would probably the the dress I wore to the  SIP Launch for The Color Of Revenge...that cost...well it was in the tens of thousands

Steve:  Blinking How much?

Katie: You don’t need to know.

17. What do you typically wear to formal events?

Steve: Whatever my gal tells me to.

Katie: And you always look great Soldier.

18. Favorite memory?

Steve: Oooh, other than when we adopted Emmy or the kids were born, I’d have to say when Katie agreed to be my wife. I’ll never forget that day as long as I live.

Katie: Me neither, not least becase I got my camero...

Steve: rolls eyes.

Katie:  Joking aside, yeah the engagement sticks in my mind but I think it was when you finally kissed me for the first time. I knew then that I was never gonna let you go.

Steve: yeah...that...ok you know what this is an impossible question after being together for so long.

19. Favorite shoes?

Katie: I have a pair of sparkly gold Jimmy Choo stilettoes that I’ve had for ages. They’re gorgeous, with ankle straps and pointed toes. I’ve had them for almost  17 years but they’re amazin.

Steve: grins. Yeah, they’re my favourite shoes too...

Katie: Pervert.

Steve: I’m not even gonna deny it. Those shoes ALWAYS stay on if I can help it.

20. Most dangerous thing you’ve ever done?

Both start to laugh hysterically.

Steve: Where do we start?

Katie: New York, Washington, Sokovia, Lagos, Leipzig, Siberia, Wakanda, Upstate and proablly a whole load of other places in between could be good places Stevie.

Steve: Yeah, this...I can’t answer this. 

21. Most embarrassing thing your parents have caught you doing?

Katie: I was 7 when my parents died but taking Tony as surrogate, I reckon him catching us in the kitchen when we were...you know, and he didn’t actually know about us has got to be up there.

Steve: Yeah, that was pretty bad... although my Ma once caught me and Bucky measuring our... looks down.

Katie: splutters What? You never told me this?

Steve: Well its not exactly somethign that crops up in conersation sweethheart? “Oh by the way, once when we were 16 me and Buck compared sizes...” Katie: Blinks. Boys are strange. So who had the biggest...

Steve: Next question...

22. Last time you had an orgasm?

Both grin.

Steve: Last night 

Katie: I can confrim this...there’s not many nights to be fair where we don’t...

23: Celebrity Crushes?

Katie: grins. Does Bucky Barnes count?

Steve: Fuck you.

24: Makeup or natural?

Katie: Normally I just wear a bit of tinted moisturiser and mascara, now I have the kids anyway. I don’t have time to really do my face in a morning. I’ll make the effort when we go out though...

Steve: You don’t need it honey.

Katie: Awww thanks baby.

Steve: Although that red lipstick you wear, the bright red..yeah...I like that... grins wickedly and winks It smears well...

Katie flushes: dirt bag

25. Favorite season?

Katie: Summer. Growing up in Malibu I like the sun and warmth.

Steve: Fall. It’s an artists dream...the colours and textures are amazing to work with

Katie: Fall is rubbish. Everything dies and it’s a bit shit.

Steve: But you make apple pie and get to snuggle in my sweaters.

Katie: literally the only 2 things good about it. 

26. Are you a competitive person?

Katie snorts and looks at Steve

Steve: I’m not even going to deny it. 

Katie: He even refuses to let the kids win a games sometimes.

Steve: Important life lessons, Doll. 

27. First pet you’ve ever owned?

Katie: My goldfish Flounder, the one that Tony replaced about 8 times. Other than that it was my Turkey Marv, he was ace.

Steve: I didn’t have any growing up so mine would be Lucky. He was a great dog. 

28. Favorite pasta dish?

Steve: Mac and Cheese, specifically Katie’s. It’s amazing.

Katie smiling: Yeah  I like Mac and Cheese, but I also enjoy carbonara.

29. Favorite kind of pizza?

Both: Pepperoni.

Steve: New York Style.

Katie: I like Deepdish every now and then.

Steve: It’s not the same...

Katie: well dur, that’s the point.

Steve: Yeah, not convinced. 

30. Lots of acquaintances or a handful of close friends?

Katie: Handful of close friends, without a doubt. They become an extension of your family, you know. All of us in the Avengers were close and when you have that bond, you’ll do anything for one another.

Steve: Agree completely. When you’re close like we all are then it makes everything that little bit easier, knowing that whatever you’re facing you’ve got each others 6.

31: Something that ruins your appetite?

Katie: Narrows eyes Whenver I see Ross on Tv. Makes me want to puke.

Steve: You really should let that go you know?

Katie: Never. I hold a grudge very well.

Steve: Don’t I know it.

32. Night out with a bunch of friends in public or night in with one friend having deep conversations?

Steve: I’ve never been one for big nights out. I enjoy the odd one now and then but, I’d much rather curl up on the sofa or round the firepit with Katie or Sam or Bucky with a beer and some decent talk.

Katie: Yeah, at one time I would have said night out hands down, but certianly since having the kids, or even since we started dating, it’s definately change my ideas a little. Some of the nicest nights we’ve had have been spent on the sofa.

Steve grins: yeah...

Katie: And not just because of that....

33. Have you ever told someone you loved them first?

Steve: I’ve only ever told one girl I loved them and she’s sat right here, and I said it first that night...

Katie: smiling Yeah, yeah you did. I wasn’t far behind though, like 3 seconds or something.

34. Have you ever had sex on the first date?

Katie: Does a one night stand count as a first date? Because if so then yes...

Steve: Same.

Katie: Lottie?

Steve: Storm?

Both look at one another,  teasingly.

Katie: Ok next question...

35. Heroes or villains?

Steve: Some people might say there’s a fine line between the two. Katie: Oh here he goes, getting all Captain Philosophical again...look, everyone knows we were suposedly the heroes Steve, and to be fair we saved the world a fair few times, we were even fighting in the shadows during the Nomad years.

Steve: I know, I know...

36. How many plates can you eat at a buffet?

Steve: You know I’ve never actually counted.

Katie: You did 20 at the last brunch we went to.

Steve: 20...that’s...impressive.

Katie: smirking Bucky did 22

Steve: sighs Of course he did...

37: Favorite dessert?

Steve: Apple pie, preferably Katie’s

Katie: Pecan pie. Hands down. 

38 Would you rather watch a TV show or a movie?

Steve: Ooh, that’s..i suppose it depends. I do like a good TV series, especially if we can curl up and binge watch once the kids are going to bed but I do have fond memories of us working through the films on my list...

Katie: smiling, yeah we had a lot of fun. Still

39. What’s your favorite compliment to give?

Steve: I love telling Katie how beautiful she is, and what a wonderful mother she is...all of which is true.

Katie: I like to remind Steve that he’s my Steve Rogers, not Captain America...because he is. And he’s the most amazing man on the planet, with or withouth that serum coursing through his veins. Which is what makes him the best dad the kids could wish for.

40. What’s the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to you?

Steve: smiling,  she’s sat right next to me.

Katie: smiling , back at ya soldier.