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gohyuck · 4 years

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1/7 of my milestone drabbles!

pairing: streetracer!mark lee x reader

genre: fluff/angst/smut

word count: 2.1k

plot request: @hansolstea said: streetracer au + “if you think you can beat me on the tracks, then you’re on the wrong side of the wheel”

warnings: not chronological so pay attention to timestamps, ambiguous relationship between the main characters, mild car accident, explicit sex, choking, ...cumming inside, mild overstimulation, slightly shitty aftercare due to the setting

SATURDAY 1:27 A.M.

“fucking take it.” he growls in your ear from above you, burying your face further into the pillow and readjusting your position so your hips are higher in the air. you let a gasping moan out without meaning to, and mark, almost without thinking, lands a hand against your ass in response, drawing forth a keening wail. “you think you’re all that, huh? think you’re invincible? hm? answer me.”

“n-no, fuck, mark, i-” he speeds up his hips, pistoning into you at a breakneck pace, almost smothering you into the motel bed’s surprisingly soft pillow. it’s obvious that he doesn’t care about what you say as long as it isn’t the safe word. you already know he’ll leave you bruised and battered, aching from how hard he’s fucking you, but you also know not to expect anything else.

mark lee is not your friend. mark lee certainly isn’t your lover. mark lee is a cocky, inflammatory bastard who has never hesitated to push your buttons in public. he brings out the worst in you, and you bring out the worst in him.

unfortunately for everyone involved, mark’s the best fuck you’ve ever had, and you know that he’s never had as good a time sticking his dick in anyone else.

as he pulls out, causing you to whine at the loss of contact, only to flip you over and immediately plow into you again, hard arms caging you in against the bed, you can’t help but think back to the series of events that led you here. not four hours earlier, you’d been on the ‘track’, jeno’s ford mustang right beside mark’s chevy corvette c6. everything that had happened there had led to what’s happening now.

“fucking take it,” mark growls again, almost unaware of what he himself is saying at this point. you’d laugh at him if you weren’t drunk off of him. his words bring you back to the present, your back arching until your chest meets his. “someone has to put you in your place.”

FRIDAY 9:55 P.M.

“come to get your ass beat?”

mark whirls around to see you leaning against your brother’s bright red mustang, a smirk adorning your features. he’s always been reactionary when it comes to you, and tonight is no different: his relaxed gaze hardens immediately as it falls on you, and his otherwise gentle smile morphs into a sneer. still, he attempts to maintain his composure, never wanting the first of you two to break.

“you’re not even driving tonight, princess. that’s big talk for someone too scared to race against me.”

“not my fault my brother wanted a piece of you first. be grateful - you couldn’t handle going against me.” you respond with ease, pushing yourself off of the car in favor of walking towards the man you can’t stand. his shoulders tense up for a moment, only to ease up again as he rolls them back, shoving both of his hands into his black bomber jacket’s pockets. you take a split second to appraise him, though you pray he doesn’t realize that you’re checking him out: black bomber, plain white tee, a thin checkered red flannel, ripped black skinny jeans, a dark brown belt, and a black beanie. even you can’t deny how attractive he is, no matter how badly you wish you could.

your eyes have trailed to his chest, and when you snap your head up to look at him, he’s smirking. that bastard.

“if you think you can beat me on the tracks, then you’re on the wrong side of the wheel,” he shrugs his shoulders, very obviously presenting you with a challenge. “should be inside the car, not outside it… unless you’re afraid, princess. i’d let you off the hook if you were, of course. it would be understandable: nobody wants to lose.”

“call me princess one more fucking time-” you retort, so close to him that you can smell his cologne.

“princess.” he draws the word out, and that’s the only mark lee you’ve ever known. the pain in your ass. he’s a good friend of jeno’s - hell, your brother even looks up to the man smirking at you right now - and gets along well with everyone you know. you’re the only exception, and you don’t know how to feel about that.

anger. arousal, maybe- no, just anger. it’s just anger, you tell yourself. before you can even sort out your own thoughts, you find yourself turning, yelling out your brother’s name.

“i’m driving tonight,” you call out, leaving no room for argument. “me versus mark.”

jeno looks at you, then at his friend, and then back at you, mouth falling open as if to argue. as his eyes meet yours, though, he knows: bickering with you is futile. your brother tosses you the keys to his precious car, and when you meet mark’s eyes again, you’re the one smirking this time.

“good luck,” you sneer, leaning close until you’re as in his face as you possibly could be. “princess.”

FRIDAY 11:39 P.M.

you’ve never seen him look quite this downright pissed. mark is genuinely one of the more easygoing, mild-mannered men you’ve met, only even acting ‘riled up’ whenever someone - typically hyuck or yuta - makes an inflammatory or downright jokingly flirtatious comment at him. it takes a lot for him to feel rage, and even you don’t think you evoke emotions that strong from him. he’s been insanely annoyed with you, yes, but it usually isn’t anything too far past that.

now, though? now mark fuckin’ lee has a steel grip on your left wrist as he tugs you out of the car. it isn’t too bad - the bumper is crooked, now, and one of the sideview mirrors is dangling and both taken together will cost a very unsexy couple of grands to fix without accounting for the paint - but you can hear your brother’s bemoaned wails at what you’ve done to his precious car. you’re surprised at yourself, too: you’ve never crashed before.

you’d looked over at mark for a split second too long while going just a hair too fast, and then, suddenly, the side of your - jeno’s - car was scraping some corporate compound’s metal fence. you’d panicked to a stop upon hearing the metallic crunching noises, and had only later heard mark’s c6 screeching to a halt up ahead. he’d yelled your name, you’d thought, but you were still dazed.

that, and jeno, who’d been just ahead at the finish line, had already started screaming by then. not for you. for his car.

“what the hell were you thinking?” mark yells, pulling you just a little too hard, causing you to stumble into his chest. “why didn’t you slow the fuck down?”

“i- shit, i didn’t realize until it was too late.” you can’t even throw the same tone of voice back in his face, too preoccupied with the realization that, had your steering been just a little off, you might be mangled in the mustang right now.

the race had gotten cut short then, with you apologizing profusely to your brother for as long as possible afterwards. mark had stepped back, watched on as the two of you assessed the damage to jeno’s car. it was only everyone else had left and jeno’d realized that he’d have to drive home with his car in the mess that it was that mark had stepped in between you and your sibling, offering to let you stay with him for the night rather than risk you and your brother killing each other over the mustang (‘nana’, so affectionately named by jeno after his best friend).

“thank fuck,” jeno’d said, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head in exasperation.

“fuck this,” you’d muttered under your breath, though a part of you truly is thankful for the intervention and the distraction both. mark had heard you. jeno hadn’t.

you expect to pull up to the apartment mark shares with his friends yuta and jungwoo, but, instead, he pulls into the parking lot of a motel you know well. of course you do - you’ve rendezvoused here with him on multiple accounts before. it’s only then, as mark fixes a hard, dark gaze on you, that you realize what you’re in for. his mouth meets your skin, your hands meet his hair.

“someone,“ he murmurs into the flesh that joins your jaw and neck. “needs to teach you how to slow down. that someone, though,” a fresh hickey blooms against your skin. he pushes open his car door with the hand that isn’t gripping your shirt’s hem. “sure as hell won’t be me.”

SATURDAY 1:29 A.M.

“someone has to put you in your place.”

mark reaches up your body then, curls a hand gingerly - almost too gingerly - around your throat. he presses lightly against the sides, only enough to make you feel slightly lightheaded. he’s looking down at you directly, gaze hard, daring you to look back. you’re close but it isn’t enough - you’re on an edge, but there’s nothing else behind you, no catalyst to push you into bliss.

his hand tightens, the other comes down to your pelvis, thumb swiping experimentally against your clit. you can’t help yourself - you tighten immediately around him, back arching slightly as both of you let out choked moans simultaneously. he swipes against your clit one more time before settling his hand against your hip, starting to rub circles into your bundle of nerves if only to feel your vice grip around his cock. you practically keen, gasping at the sheer amount of sensations your body feels.

you’re on the edge. you’re about to fall. mark’s hips stutter against your own, and he plays with your clit even more vigorously as he cums, not bothering to pull out. he never does, anyways. the hand around your neck tightens just a bit before he lets go of your airways entirely, and the sensation of finally being able to breathe properly again does you in, your chest fully arching almost against mark’s own as you reach your own orgasm.

it feels like an eternity until the stars are all out of your eyes, but you find yourself falling back to earth as mark finally pulls out. you’re panting, catching your breath, eyes glassy as you try and fix your gaze on him. he notices this, chuckling softly.

mark heads to the room’s bathroom, and you hear running water for a second before he emerges with wadded up toilet paper and a wet towel. you wince, knowing he’ll use the one-ply toilet paper on you first, but also knowing that neither of you are shitty enough to leave a cum-covered hotel towel behind for the staff to find. he wipes up the mixture of yours and his cum up from between your sensitive thighs, quieting shushing you and apologizing as the scratchy toilet paper meets your still-sensitive pussy. once he’s sure it’s all cleaned up, he wipes you down with the wet towel, doing his best to soothe your skin.

once he’s discarded the toilet paper and put the towel up, mark pulls on his boxers before gently pushing you over to get into the bed beside you. everything smells like sex, but you can’t bring yourself to be as disgusted by it as you think you should be. you move onto your side, wrapping an arm around him and throwing a leg over him, ignoring the fact that he’s like a space heater and you already feel sticky as it is. he allows his arm to wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“i’m serious, you know,” he mutters after a while, sighing as he speaks. “you need to learn how to slow down. that could’ve ended very, very badly tonight… and as much as we… have our ‘differences’ or whatever, i don’t know what i’d do without you. okay? so pay more attention when you’re driving. you’re too valuable.”

there’s no response. mark shifts so he can see you, and he realizes that you’re fast asleep, bare chest rising and falling in tandem with mark’s heartbeat. you haven’t heard a word of what he’s said. a small smile graces mark’s features.

he lets his head fall back onto the too-flat motel pillow, finding that he, too, is suddenly very tired. his eyes slip shut, sleep pulling him in as the night goes on. he pulls you closer on reflex. you allow yourself to get pulled closer in the same way. in the morning, you’ll ask him what he means by ‘you’re too valuable’. you’ve got at least six hours ‘til then. you fall asleep with a smile on your face, mirroring mark’s own.

#mark lee #mark lee smut #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #mark lee x reader #nct smut #nct 127 smut

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cancerjupiter · 4 years

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🔥 fire moons 🔥

aries moon

Probably the simplest, most bluntly honest and emotionally direct of all the Moon signs, they tend to be single-minded when involved in their latest enthusiasm, not liking to be bothered (least of all by “emotional” distractions or someone else’s “personal needs”). Most of them will have thousands of such interests in their lives, each of which takes on a feeling of pressing importance and tremendous urgency … until they lose interest when the source of excitement is no longer new. Very action-oriented and thus often a bit pushy, they frequently react impatiently, even when they are not nearly so annoyed or irritated as others may assume from their explosive behavior. Aries above all needs new challenges throughout their lives. Often fearless, the one fear Aries Moon does have is fear of boredom. They always need a new challenge.

They are usually poor listeners, not just because of their obsessive self-interest but also because they tend to jump to conclusions (unless they have, say, lots of Gemini or Libra in their charts, in which case the result is people who can be superb at “active listening”—quickly grasping the essentials and energetically giving lots of instant feedback). Actually, as one perceptive woman with Aries Moon pointed out to me, they need to feel that they are not influenced by others, and therefore they appear not to be listening to others’ advice or observations. And yet, months later, they may inadvertently reveal that they heard it very well and even reflected on it and accepted it later.

Easily bored, restless, rather self-centered, they are by nature competitive—even though many of them don’t like to acknowledge it. They simply have to be the best at everything! As one woman wrote, “Two women I know with Aries Moon are domineering. They think they know all the answers, and that they are always right” (AQ). However, even though instinctively competitive, they do not tend to hold a grudge since they move on to their next interest so quickly—unless they see the other person as an enemy to their freedom who is trying to control or limit them. They are in fact extremely self-sufficient; they prefer independence and the freedom to act without restriction and rarely seek any kind of input from others.

Women with Aries Moon (or Sun for that matter) often use “toxic masculinity” at least in a gentle, non doctrinaire way, because they respect strength and competitiveness, and thus have little time for weeping and moaning from others.

Men with Aries Moon tend to expect a lot from women. In women it gives a strong sense of purpose and freedom.

A thirty-year-old female wrote the following about men with Moon in Aries:

“They seem to totally involve their attention in a very direct and powerful way in the scrutiny of new “data,” often to the extent of monopolizing conversations or others’ attention until their interest wanes or changes focus. They’re also very self-centered: their ideas, their action, their feelings come first, and they don’t usually have a lot of empathy for the needs or feelings of others; they’ll listen, but they’re not consistently good with feedback or support.”

Aries Moon can be outspoken and tactless. Their emotional reactions to stimuli seem raw, completely spontaneous and uncensored.

leo moon

Those with Leo Moon react warmly, generously, and often with enthusiasm and/or humor. There is a childlike simplicity about them, and in fact their notable pride often resembles that of a child as well. These people need recognition and demonstrative affection, and their pride is often hurt if such attention is not given in sufficient and public ways. Like all the fixed signs (Taurus, Scorpio, and Aquarius being the others), Leo is a sign of extremes; and it is therefore difficult to paint a balanced picture of their personal tendencies. They are often shallow and prone to flattery, and yet they have considerable personal integrity, which is not usually compromised. Needing to live up to a big and rather dramatized image of themselves, the Leo Moon person can be rather a show-off. But they do it with such innocence and high expectations that they are often forgiven for their tendency toward self-absorption and dramatization. In fact, it seems they are so in need of attention and so childlike themselves that in very few cases do they have room for children in their lives, even though they often have a natural way with kids and can be great parents. Although not a scientific fact, all the Leo Moons I can think of offhand have either no children or only one child.

They can be loyal, sometimes blindly loyal to the point of foolish behavior that has a negative impact on everyone concerned; and they can be generous (but they do not mind if others notice their benevolence). Shortsightedness is perhaps one of Leo Moon’s worst faults. Some “cannot see past the ends of their noses” and are so self-absorbed that they do not even notice others’ reactions to their sometimes obnoxious, grandiose behavior. This shortsightedness surprisingly extends to their understanding of their own potential. It has always amazed me how many Leo Moon people (with innate talents and ability in abundance!) sell themselves short and wind up worldly failures in comparison to what they had the ability to do. I cannot help but suspect that one reason for this is that their huge pride prevents them from ever listening to (or asking for) honest feedback about themselves. Perhaps they secretly fear that they are not quite up to their self-image. They are known for being insulted easily, so they naturally do not want to expose their fragile ego to criticism, no matter how well-intentioned. But unless they develop a deeper self-understanding and the ability to accept authentic personal communication from others, they may remain engaging in their earnestness and simplicity, but it can eventually wear thin, like a person who never grows up.

Leo Moon people have a capacity for encouraging others that can be extremely supportive and strengthening in a crisis. They can be as solid a support system as one could ever want, but in other cases they seem fanatically convinced that they are having a great, positive impact on others (regardless of the truth) and they want to be thanked for it. Being admired is a central need in many with this Moon placement. (Note that Leo Moon is much more passive than Leo Sun, who is usually busy creating and doing.) There is a deep-down feeling of needing to live up to an image of bigness and greatness, even if they wind up resenting others for not noticing all that they have given. In short, the vast range of Leo Moon personalities evokes extreme reactions, and they are probably included in anyone’s list of people whom one has either deeply loved or strongly resented! Note the extreme and varied qualities noted about Leo Moon in this questionnaire response:

“People with the Moon in Leo always like to be on top of things. They like attention and some can be easily appealed to through the ego. Moon in Leo makes for dynamic personal expression. These people tend to make their presence felt.… the person often tries very hard to make others see them as somebody special, getting mixed reactions from others. While tending to be somewhat opinionated these people can make good listeners, can be very concerned, very caring even if a little overbearing. Moon in Leo is gregarious, dynamic, and can be very creative.”

Another perceptive observation about them:

“Moons in Leo are emotionally melodramatic. They’re easily upset, and tend to get fixated on what they’re feeling, sometimes to the point that their feelings become a major issue in which everyone around them has to participate. They like the excitement of having everyone’s attention on them, even when the price for that is an argument or some kind of conflict. Once they’ve satisfied themselves that they have everyone’s full attention, they’ll usually happily drop the issue and magnanimously allow someone else the “spotlight.” They’re performers.”

sagittarius moon

Tolerant, broad-minded, with a buoyant attitude toward life, those with Sagittarius Moon are idealistic by nature and instinctively react with a philosophical attitude toward any setback, knowing that the future (not the past!) is what matters. They are most comfortable when exploring ideas, ideals, or outdoor places and love a sense of freedom without limits. The distant horizon is always felt as more appealing than the here and now. They particularly need mental freedom (including religious and spiritual room to improve themselves), since their aspirations are not just high but boundless. In fact, the term “upbeat” was invented by a Sagittarius Moon! As one Sag Moon woman always repeated as her mantra, “I see the glass as half-full, not half-empty.” They like to entertain groups of people with their humor. In fact, they want to say yes to every opportunity; they want to feel that life is unbounded by any limits, and so they tend to instinctively promise far more than they can ever deliver. They assume, I suppose, that everyone else forgets as many immediate details as they do, a habit that backfires when angry friends and colleagues confront them demanding to know why the promise did not follow through. As a questionnaire reply asserted, “A need to be all things to all people” characterizes Sagittarius Moon. Generosity and “bigness” are dominant factors in their lives and in their sense of reality and self-image.

Sagittarius is the sign most likely to be oblivious to the realities right in front of them that are obvious to everyone else, so focused are they on the distant goal. Since the road to hell is paved with good intentions, Sagittarius Moon people need to be sure that their goals and ideals are grounded in what is truly possible. They do need a large guiding vision to motivate them in life, but they also need periodic times of self-examination to assess whether they are themselves living up to their ideals. They like to preach to others (usually “helpfully,” in their view), but if something does not work out, well, that is not their problem. Sagittarius Moon people rather dislike the heaviness of daily “reality” and personal or emotional problems.

They have difficulty handling any criticism and often in fact become more indignant than any other sign—a pride that is usually hidden and often surprises others who take their positive, happy demeanor at face value. As Donna Cunningham wrote, “The things that set Sagittarius Moon people off are having one of their pet theories or convictions demolished”. This pride, manifesting at times as a rather exalted view of oneself (perhaps as the only one who can reveal the “truth”), is part of the dualistic nature of Sagittarius, the symbol for which is the centaur—half horse and half human. Sagittarius has the lifelong task of integrating their more idealistic nature with their more unrefined, impulsive, egocentric tendencies. At their worst, they are so proud of their “honesty” (sometimes viewed by other people as tactless bluntness) and of their own moral or intellectual righteousness that—unless more humble or sensitive factors are also dominant in the chart—they can be so uncompromising in their mode of expression that they are often perceived as inconsiderate and unnecessarily hurtful.

Perhaps the key for Sagittarius Moon people to feel authentically at home with themselves is to apply their honesty to themselves as bluntly as they express it to others! They often think too highly of themselves and want to project an admirable image to others. They like to feel idealistic and upstanding, but if they look at themselves honestly, they often have to admit that they are not as impeccably honorable as they like to think; for they can rationalize their behavior as well as anyone when it is convenient or advantageous to do so. Sagittarius Moon is thus a good example of the fact that how people feel about themselves (always directly related to the Moon in anyone’s birth chart) is not necessarily how others see them and their behavior.

A couple quotations from questionnaires can round out this description of Sagittarius Moon:

“Easygoing, gets along with and accepts strangers without discrimination—though sometimes self-righteous and snobbish. Independent emotionally, doesn’t seem to need so much from one as they can get from many.”

“Moon in Sagittarius can be very high-minded, they respond very actively to life. These people can try to push others or just be domineering in general. They can be a little pushy but this is generally out of enthusiasm. For both sexes, can be very direct. For men—very honest in attitude, they say what is on their mind. For women this is also a very blunt placement. Both sexes can often be tactless; they speak the truth as they see it and figure that others should just accept it no matter how hard it is to swallow.”

#astrology #zodiac signs #aries #leo #moon signs #sagittarius #aries moon #leo moon #sagittarius moon #moon in aries #moon in leo #moon in sagittarius

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my-darling-boy · 5 years

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im wondering if you think that edward brittain and geoffrey thurlow were lovers. because i know the movie implied that perhaps there was something more there, bu from reading the book as well as 'letters from a lost generation' i didnt get that impression. just wondering your thoughts!

Right okay I’m about to InfoDumpᵀᴹ because the love Geoffrey and Edward had is one of the main things that got me into learning about WWI years ago!!! So allow me to shed some light on these boys specifically!

So firstly, Geoffrey Thurlow was inserted swiftly into Edward Brittain’s life and the two got on INSTANTLY in early 1915 after Edward was commissioned to the Sherwood Foresters. For a long time, Victor Richardson had been Edward’s trusted friend, as of course they knew each other from their Uppingham days, but it’s apparent in Testament of Youth, Letters From a Lost Generation, and the other works by the family’s historian Mark Bostridge, that Geoffrey and Edward became VERY close VERY fast. And while it could be written off as a friendship..... there is a lot of evidence that, even ignoring my own conjectures, is hard to dispute the fact that their relationship was more than friendship, even if it never became sexual or explicitly physical.

On top of the two becoming quickly inseparable, they also frequented expression of their desire to be with one another while the other was away, Thurlow often sending Edward very affectionate and borderline romantic letters and postcards on a whim, even sending him one rather Cryptic postcard on Valentine’s Day one year. The two insisted on doing many activities together, and many found them a perfect fit, Geoffrey a rather dreamy, expressive, and emotional young man, while Edward was practically the opposite; it’s suggested that they adored each other so much due to their personalities complimenting the other’s quite well: Edward was able to provide Geoffrey with reassurance and That Officerly Gay Protectiveness, while Geoffrey’s understanding and soft demeanor provided an open window for Edward to share his insecurities when he couldn’t show them to the other men. And while it could be said that Edward was more hesitant to be with Geoffrey in such a manner, even if Geoffrey felt no personal conflict, the two wanted to be very, very personal.

Both boys stayed connected regularly, no matter where they were, through intimate correspondence. As I mentioned, a good majority of their letters involve either one of them, but specially Geoffrey, longing poetically to be out in nature with the other or wishing they were together, but not at present, not wanting the other to be in harm’s way. A lot of Geoffrey’s letters to Edward, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, are signed “Him that thou knowest thine” or just “thine”. Of course this means “yours” or “you who know that I am yours”. And while this sort of thing, at least in my latter wording, was not an uncommon expression between men at this time, it’s..... the first way it’s worded that surprises me. For lack of a more eloquent explanation, it’s Gay as Hell to be THAT poetic to your new soldier friend, even for 1910s standards. One might ask why he simply wouldn’t just write “yours” instead of adding the special style, and making the extra effort to imply “not only am I yours, but you know as well as I do that I’m yours”. One might even ask if it was to refer to a special meeting, or inside romantic reference, such as the way in which Roland and Vera signed their own letters to each other, “au revoir”. Literally one letter from Thurlow to Edward simply ends with “In Life, in Death, Yours”.

There were also several letters marked “private” sent to the Brittain residence from Geoffrey in the span between 1915 to 1916 when Geoffrey would have occasionally been on leave, and could write whatever he damned well pleased to Edward without fear of the military censors poking around. What makes this crucial evidence to support they were having homosexual correspondence is the fact that Vera burnt the private letters before she died to protect the boys’ wishes to keep them private, if not by Edward’s direct request for her to do so, something which by itself doesn’t seem so odd given the fact letters were burnt all the time for a number of reasons, but is especially compelling given the fact other evidence makes a strong case that they were together. What was contained in those letters is lost to history, but they shouldn’t be confused with the letters taken off the censors which later may have began the domino effect to Edward’s untimely death, as that was in 1918, over a year after the death of Geoffrey, and were about different homosexual matters with other ranks at the time.

Additionally: while Edward’s reaction to Geoffrey’s death is argued not to have been as strong as his response was to, say, Victor’s death, as support for the fact he didn’t actually care much for Thurlow, he wrote to Vera “I have been afraid for him for so long and yet now that he is gone it is so very hard—that prince among men with so fine an appreciation of all that was worth appreciating and so ideal a method of expression . . . Always a splendid friend with a splendid heart and a man who won’t be forgotten by you or me however long or short a time we may live. Dear child, there is no more to say; we have lost almost all there was to lose . . .” In my own mind, this letter is just the tip of the iceberg to how he felt. It’s clear that Geoffrey’s death had a greater toll on him in the long run, while Victor’s death seemed to affect him immediately. I can only assume this is due in part to Edward being so emotionally invested in Geoffrey versus Victor, and that Victor’s death evoked an immediate and present sadness, while Geoffrey’s was so difficult to handle, he couldn’t think but to react in a collected but sorrowful manner, one I feel was meant to conceal just how heartbroken he was, as though he was worried if he showed as much outward devastation as he showed for Victor, he feared one may speculate why he held so much sadness for Geoffrey...as though he was afraid people knew what was between them.

Geoffrey’s death seemed to CRUSH Edward, leading him down this path of dark despair and depression following his passing, and it lead to a lot of misdirected tension between he and his sister at times, and he subsequently turned far more reserved, uncommunicative, and apathetic than ever before. I’d even go so far as to say that Edward might have felt guilty about his own relations with Geoffrey after he died, possibly believing he could have done more to be closer with him, or felt guilt in having distanced himself from him in some way later in 1917. And after such events, he showed more distaste for the war, more lack of emotion towards his own life and its worth, and his letters often took a downhearted turn towards the end.

When he died, Geoffrey’s letter, the last one he sent to Edward in 1917, was found in his breast pocket, and I would assume this to be over his heart. It ends by saying “Till we meet again, Here or in the Hereafter,” and it’s speculated he carried this ever since the day Geoffrey died, and, most defintely, died with it close to his heart.

By my own conjecture, I say that Edward felt that he was both conscious of and without objection to his homosexuality, most likely because it was suggested in private schools at the time (take Evelyn Waugh’s comments on being interested in boys at boarding school as a phase that one grows out of) that it was a passing curiosity, and that such interests would diminish when one reached adulthood. I felt that he did romantically love Geoffrey, even if it never had the opportunity to become sexual or physically intimate. And because our own understanding of homosexuality did not exist at the time for him to have any model from which to reference comprehension of his own sexuality, I believe, that like most of his queer contemporaries, he had a rather ambiguous—near procrastinating—outlook on his own sexual orientation and relationship status, along with his view concerning his future life and possible wife.

The war created a near diversion from having to consider the possibility of being with a woman, and he could instead allow to let his homosexuality subconsciously flourish while being in the presence of so many men, and allow his romantic love for Geoffrey to remain raw and intimate without having to confront the implications such a future would hold for him socially, all due to the war being the only thing on his present mind. And furthermore, I firmly believe that Geoffrey held a deep admiration for him: he looked up to him as well as loved him. Though he was training to be a priest, he seems to express no distaste—rather the opposite, based on his letters to Edward—for flirtatious relations between men, and remains such a gentle and deeply poetic figure to Edward I have only seen reflected in that of homosexual bonds. In my opinion, being gay myself, and with having delved into scattered studies of male affection in earlier centuries, they were in love. It’s a story I so often encounter between men of their class in this era, specifically during the war.

I will also admit that, for some reason, from standing afar, the recollection by itself of what information is told to us about Edward and Geoffrey is rather.... timid...in some instances amid the background of Vera and Roland, of Malta and France. And the ones provided alone from most books are merely the “friendly” letters. The ones I’m sure we would really like to see were lost on Geoffrey’s side and burned on Edward’s side, and what others remain are held in private facilities and university archives, and only available in brief mentions online. However, looking closely, reading sections purely between the two boys, isolating only their letters, their language, and even digging further into works written from Mark Bostridge and other minor historians piecing together dots not having previously been connected, what love they shared feels warm and strong, if not simultaneously distant and foggy at times: such is the way the world remembers homosexuals unfortunately.

These boys never got the oppertunity to be with each other in the way we would like to see historic gay people, the way we swoon over the way Maurice and Clive or Alec were together in Maurice for instance. Geoffrey and Edward were in the middle of war, and there’s both so much poor documentation on homosexuals and so little chance in the chaos to a have a ditch-lectures-to-go-on-a-motorbike-ride-into-a-meadow relationship we expect to see, compared to other circumstances where it would obviate the way they felt about each other. But because of the war, it made it even harder to progress gay relationships due to combat, death, anxiety, and just a general lack of space and oppertunity to be with a man all the time without someone seeing.

I later discovered a while back this historian’s articles about the lives and intertwining of Edward and Geoffrey and they are packed with a brilliant compilation of sources and their own take on the relationship, which I was quite excited to have the pleasure of reading, for we share very similar viewpoints on the matter and even caught onto hints and details during our own reading of the sources no other readers seemed to talk about!

Edward’s || Geoffrey’s

What fragments which are left to us, if we understand just how forcibly hidden life had to be for these men, letters marked “private” and passing remarks of desiring to walk among trees with someone special speak of a louder and more profound story buried deep beneath them. It’s important to take into account that many of the known gay relationships we have record of today are not as well documented as Oscar Wilde. Sometimes, the only record we have of their love lost to time is held in the way it’s held here, in the signing of “Thine”.

I can only hope now that since they could not hold each other in life, that in death, they could finally be together.

Anyway, there’s my Novel, thanks for the ask!

#I love them sm #testament of youth #vera brittian #edward brittain #geoffrey thurlow #asks #long post #wwi

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hotforhandman · 4 years

Text

Are the Villains “right”?

Okay, so I was scrolling through the bnha spoilers tag whilst procrastinating work and I’m really not living for the vibes there. My biggest issues fall into two main camps: “this arc is going to be the end of the League”, and “Villain stans are hypocrites with no reading comprehension for condemning the Heroes’ behaviour”, and I believe both of these statements can be addressed simultaneously, whilst also giving me a convenient excuse to not write. So without further ado,

Part 1: Themes

Right from the very beginning of the series, literally the first line, one thing is made blatantly clear: This series is not going to be about good guys and bad guys. “All men are not created equal” is not a line that implicates an inherent divide between good and evil, unless you’re an actual eugenicist. And pretty much every important character is designed to criticise a different aspect of the established system.

Izuku: The Quirkless are worthless. Not explicitly, but... everyone knows it.

Bakugou: If you have a good Quirk, you are praised and treated as special, and as a consequence you’re never expected to learn and grow as a person.

Shoto: Dedicating your entire life to becoming strong to the detriment of your own health is the best way to climb to the top.

All Might: You don’t have to worry about anything. A Hero will save you.

Shinsou: If you have a Villain’s Quirk, you’re going to be a Villain, no matter the quality of your personality.

Kirishima: If you’re not flashy, there’s no point even trying.

Hawks: Similar to Shoto, if you show natural promise then it’s acceptable to groom you as a weapon.

I’m sure there are others that I’ve missed. Each of these characters’ individual developments have been focused around them overcoming these ingrained ideas and growing and succeeding despite them - with the exception, perhaps, of Hawks. So if several of the major Hero characters are designed to illustrate and criticise the established system, what about the villains? I guess if the Heroes are stories about people succeeding despite what the world tells them, then the Villains are stories about what happens when they don’t.

Spinner: Mutants are second-class citizens and should be treated as such.

Toga: If your Quirk is considered to be bad or gross, then you should be punished for wanting to use it.

Twice: The world won’t make space for your special needs.

Magne: If you don’t fit the mould of what people want you to be, you won’t be respected.

And Shigaraki: It’s not our responsibility to help you. If you weren’t saved, that must mean you’re not worth saving.

The one thing that both the Heroes and the Villains have in common is that they are tools to show the audience the flaws in BNHA’s society. It’s canon that Quirks appeared suddenly, and though by the time BNHA is set in, society has tried to adapt to fit it and is making some progress towards being functional, it’s clear that it has a long, long way to go, because it’s failing so many people. (Draw some parallels to real life, hm?). BNHA’s overarching themes of individual worth not being more important than collective good and how rules and structure created in good will can result in a lot of pain and abuse are, first and foremost, exemplified in the characters themselves. I like to tell people who find Shigaraki’s motivations vague and uncompelling that Shigaraki doesn’t need to have a point, he is the point, and this is exactly the reason why.

I also believe that this is primarily why for Horikoshi to end the League here would be, frankly, terrible writing. We have engaged with the LOV more than pretty much any other Shonen villain group I can think of, almost any villain group at all. We’ve seen them develop as much as we’ve seen the heroes develop, especially in Shigaraki’s case, and to have Shigaraki only be their ‘first-year villain’ or whatever would be disrespectful, wasteful, and thematically inappropriate. To have a more classic, pre-developed villain whose villainy seems to stem from some inherent evil characteristic like AfO or Overhaul would ultimately defeat the story of how the worst villains are created by flaws in the system, not born.

Part 2: Fan Response

Sometimes I can’t believe I still have to reiterate this to people, but it is possible to stan a character whilst simultaneously recognising that they are flawed, often critically so. When did we move from adoring villains to saying if you like this character you must be an inherently bad person because of this list of bad things they did?

The thing is that the vast majority of ‘opinions’ on fan blogs are... poorly thought out and shallow, to put it lightly. When it’s 2am and I’m answering an ask about my opinions on x plot point, it’s not gonna be well thought out and thoroughly researched. I’m probably a bit tipsy, kind of tired, and just typing out whatever my initial response is. And really, if I reblog a bit of art with the caption ‘Shigaraki did nothing wrong’, do you really think I’m being serious? A lot of what we say is hyperbolic and meant to either be funny or to evoke an emotion, not because we actually believe it.

That being said, the League in particular, I believe, resonates with a lot of people in the current political climate. A group of outcasts with characteristics considered undesirable by the wider population coming together and genuinely caring about one another whilst they aim to completely eradicate the system that hurt them? As an angry, marginalised leftist in a society that seems increasingly determined to wipe my chances at a good life out without blinking an eye, hell yeah that resonates with me. Being able to crumble the cripplingly complex and morally vile system I live in to dust and starting over is one hell of an appealing power fantasy. Does that mean I think murder is okay? Obviously not. It’s a fantasy. If there’s one place where I can live out those fantasies without consequences, it’s here. In fiction. And so it seems really stupid to me to be confronted with the idea that if I like a fictional violent radical I’m accused of condoning murder and kidnapping.

Part 3: Are the Heroes right?

So a lot of the posts I saw that aggravated me were framed like 'how can the villain stans think Miruko and Gran Torino's behaviour is worse than Shigaraki's?', but like... who was saying that?

I feel like certain people's views of the heroes versus villains debate falls under the same fallacies as a lot of political arguments- that is to say, if I'm criticising one side, I must be defending the other. Which is... just blatantly untrue. When we say that the heroes' consistent dehumanisation of a man who is, first and foremost, a victim of significant grooming and abuse throughout his life, is gross and cruel, and that this attitude is mirrored in an awful lot of the hero-villain interactions implying a certain level of empathetic alienation and lack of accountability, we're not saying they shouldn't be trying to take Shigaraki down. Of course they should, he's going to decimate hundreds of thousands of innocent lives. But, like, does that mean they're exempt from all criticism? Should we be excusing the cruel and dismissive attitudes of the heroes and ignoring the behaviours of their side that lead to further 'villainisation' of marginalised people just because they're responsible for saving lives? No. Because once again, one of the key themes of BNHA is that neither side is perfect, and neither side is right.

Mass murder is wrong. So is systemic cruelty towards the oppressed. You don't have to approve of one to criticise the other. So next time you see one of those posts and jump to the conclusion that villain stans have no reading comprehension, pls remember these points.

Anyway, that's my little rant. Sorry.

Tl;dr, villain stans aren't stupid or glorifying murder, we're just capable of criticising more than one type of bad behaviour.

#league of villains #bnha

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poptod · 4 years

Text

The Dead Heed No Lies (Ch. 2)

Description: If you won't join the life of the party upstairs, the life of the party comes to you.

Notes: Building up. Word Count: 1.9k

Chapter Two: Holed Up

It had been approximately a week since you’d fainted in the break room, found by Ahkmenrah, who was apparently worried about you after you hadn’t returned, even as dawn approached. When you came fully back to consciousness, he sat with you, explaining what the tablet did, how it needed moonlight, which was the real reason for the transfer. He further explained that it only worked during the night, which was why everything seemed so still during the day. He’d been gracious about the whole fainting thing, telling you that it wasn’t entirely unexpected, simply wishing you a better day ahead of you before he left to his exhibit.

You decided not to accompany him. Watching a man crawl into his own grave to die seemed like something that wouldn’t be good for you.

“How long are you staying here?” You asked Tilly, watching from the balcony as chaos ensued in the form of an almost hysterical party.

“Dunno, this is a pretty prestigious museum. But should be for another few months.”

“That’s quite a while,” you noted, nodding in a mildly impressed manner.

“Should give you enough time to get to know Ahk more,” she said, leaning over to you, attempting horridly at a wink.

“I - what?”

“You know, you and the King,” she said, saying his title with a theatrical form of reverence.

“… Right. Me and the King. What is this, Disney?” You shook your head, chuckling to yourself.

“What? You’d make a great couple,” she said, nudging you with her elbow.

“Til, I barely know him. You’re seeing things.”

“Whatever you say,” she said skeptically, turning and leaving down the stairs.

The whole notion she was proposing was ridiculous. You’d spoken to him a grand total of three times, the first being when you met him, the second was him waking you from a black out, and the third was you accidentally running into his parents, and he quickly introduced you to them.

On the whole, the conversation wasn’t bad, but it could’ve gone better. It felt rather like a young teen who had modern ideals with two racist parents, but this time it was an actual King and Queen who had Jewish slaves and their son, who had apparently never agreed with that.

You didn’t agree with it either, being Jewish yourself. After his parents had left, Ahkmenrah explained that it wasn’t the first time it’d happened, that it was equally embarrassing as it was funny. You agreed, and quickly excused yourself.

As fun as it was to be upstairs during the night of life, you had a job, and it couldn’t be avoided. Especially since McPhee was now breathing down your back, which was a change, because usually he was at home, asleep, during your work hours. Now, fully awake, he was free to observe your every movement. Not that he did, he was busy making sure nothing in the museum was destroyed. You stayed far away, in the basement, locked up and sorting through the archives.

Every now and then Tilly would come down, asking you to take a break, which you nearly always declined.

Then the King visited you.

You could tell it was him without even looking up, from the way his cloak dragged across the ground, and his sandals hitting the asphalt.

“Hi Ahk,” you said, not looking up from the papers you were sorting.

Man killed 150 bears in American wilderness, original article…

“Hello. How’d you know it was me?” He asked, chuckling as he sat down beside you. That was something you hadn’t expected of him when you first met him - for him to be normal, to stoop down to your level. Sit with you on the ground, cross legged, looking like a perfectly normal man in an impeccable costume. Warm and human.

“I can hear your cloak. No one else wears a cloak,” you said, smiling as you looked at him, before looking right back down again.

“Ah. Suppose it does sort of… give it away,” he said, fumbling with his cape in his fingers.

“It’s fantastic material, though. I assume it’s the same clothing you were embalmed with?” You said, and without thought you fingered the material, always wondering what fine cloth would feel like. As much as you studied history, you never actually experienced any of the findings it brought.

“Oh, uh, yes. It is. Gold sewn in and all. I think we were a little dramatic back then,” he laughed quietly, his eyes fixed on your hands.

You knew it was inappropriate, but dear God it was soft.

“Well you had a lot of gold. Symbol of status, a way of letting people know how much you were worth. It’s like people owning mansions nowadays, buying fancy cars. Just a show of wealth and status.”

“Unsightly,” he joked.

“Unseemly,” you said with a chuckle, playing along. After a moment of quiet giggles you turned back to your papers, continuing to sort through them though it was the last thing you wanted to be doing. Here you were, studying historical records when a literal goldmine of information was in front of you, and he acted quite like he liked you, and a lot, always open to talk, always trying to learn more about you. Overall, very friendly.

“Ahkmenrah, I was wondering,” you started, setting your papers down. The more you looked at them, the duller they got. He looked expectantly at you, so you continued.

“There’s hardly any mention of you at all in any history books. No statues, we only found out you existed when we found your, um. Your sarcophagus. Do you have any idea as to why that is?”

It was, maybe, a sensitive topic. Maybe it was a question he didn’t know the answer to. Either way it evoked some emotional reaction out of him as he shifted uncomfortably, tucking his feet and hands further into himself in a psychological sign of defensiveness.

“I didn’t know, for a while. I found out later when my parents told me. I don’t remember this for whatever reason but my brother killed me, and uh… took the throne? It was his birthright, to be fair,” he said, defending him though he deserved none of it.

“He was older than you, but your parents gave you the throne?”

“Yes. I know it’s odd,” he sighed, relaxing as he leaned back on his arms. “But they thought it would be a better decision if I ruled instead of him, and generally speaking, I think they were right. My brother’s a bit, ah, bloodthirsty, you could call it?”

The two of you laughed, but you wondered what in the hell his brother could’ve done in Egyptian times to be considered bloodthirsty enough to pass the throne to the younger child.

“Anyway, he poisoned me, and my parents were still alive when this happened, but they couldn’t do much while he desecrated everything that ever mentioned me.”

“That’s depressing,” you sighed, stretching your arms as you relaxed, looking ahead to the rows of boxes.

“What’s depressing,” he said, his tone suddenly changing, “is you sitting down here all night when all the fun is upstairs.”

“Oh not you too,” you groaned, not wanting to have to convince another person that you had an actual job to do.

“What? It’s not healthy, you know,” he said, laughing, knowing he was a terrible influence.

“I’m fully aware of that but it’s my job. Wouldn’t expect you to understand that, all you do is have fun,” you chuckled, digressing into a tired sigh. He hummed, quiet and low, relaxing in his position once more.

“In that case, if you really can’t be swayed, I’ll stay with you.”

You stammered, fully disagreeing. If he stayed you’d never get anything done, he was a huge distraction, him and his beautiful flowing robes and his stupid gorgeous face - no, you couldn’t do it, you would absolutely not stand for it.

However, before you could go off on a rant of why that was a terrible idea (while completely avoiding your actual lovey-dovey reason as to why it was a terrible idea), he saw the look in your eye, and his smile faded into a sad, open mouthed, glittering eyed expression that made him instantly look like he’d been crying.

Like a goddamn puppy.

“Fine,” you sighed, giving in without a word exchanged. “But don’t distract me!”

“Me? Never!” He laughed, standing up and wandering through the aisles, letting you have your silence as you worked. You didn’t say anything, but you appreciated the thought deeply.

Every now and then, over the next few hours that passed, you’d see him through the spaces between the boxes. His head would poke out, and sometimes he’d kneel down to where you were, giving you a funny face for you to soften and laugh at.

This boy is too kind for his own good, you thought to yourself, wondering if he was like this during his life in Egypt. As you sorted mindlessly through sheets of paper, your mind wandered, going through the two different scenarios.

If he was exactly the same then as he was now, you wondered how he survived. As a prince, he was supposed to be mature, a role model for his kingdom. He should’ve been manly and strong, neither of which were traits he’d shown thus far.

If he was not the same, you wondered when the change happened. What he was like back then. Was he cruel, antisemitic, and a succinct ruler? Or was he just as kind as he was now, just more mature, with the weight of his responsibilities drowning out his personality?

“You look lost,” he noticed, boxes pushed to the side as he poked his head through the other side of the open shelf. You laughed, pushing the boxes back together to force his head out. He whined, jogging his way around the long hall to make it to you.

“No need to be ashamed. I, too, get lost in sheets of paper,” he chuckled, sitting down behind you and looking over your shoulder. He was slightly taller than you, allowing him a vantage point.

“You know, you speak remarkably good English for a 4,000 year old Egyptian Pharaoh,” you said, using the end of your pencil to tap his nose.

“What can I say, it’s what everyone else speaks. I hardly ever speak Egyptian now except with my parents.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you said, growing slowly quieter. “Your version of the language is dead now.”

A clangor of Rex’s roar resounded from upstairs, a sound you now knew signified that everyone needed to return to their place.

“Just as I am soon about to be,” he said, grunting slightly as he stood. Without thought you stood with him, letting your pencil and paper fall to the ground clattering quietly. With a chuckle he looked you up and down, almost sarcastically wondering if you’d do anything else embarrassing. You just glared, the blushing heat in your cheeks obvious.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” you mumbled, leading him out the door and up the stairs. He followed, and the two of you walked to his old room in the museum.

As you reached the threshold he stopped, turning to you.

“I must leave you now,” he said, his words dramatic but his tone sincere. His hands came up to hold yours, another sign of his truthfulness.

“Try and do what I said?” He asked of you.

“What was that again?”

“Have some fun. Don’t hole up in that basement.”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Sure.”

He left you with a smile, never wanting people to see him as he wrapped himself back up in his tomb. You understood his wish, obeying his need for privacy.

Until tomorrow night, you thought to yourself.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Night at the Museum #ahkmenrah #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader #gender neutral reader

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writeroutoftime · 5 years

Text

you’re safe with me

pairing: james x reader (requested by: anon)

summary: james is protective of you when bonnie wants revenge

warnings: season 2 spoilers, swearing, guns, hostage situation

words: 1990

a/n: this was a good challenge for me because I feel that james’ character is tricky to write for, so I hope I got it correct. also, to the anon, I hope this is what you wanted with your request, but if not please let me know. other than that, feel free to request, enjoy, and have a fabulous day!

oOoOo

If you thought you life was fucked up two years ago, you were sorely mistaken because this was much worse. After all that had happened, all you, your boyfriend, James, and Alyssa had wanted was to start over, and put the past behind you. However, it seemed as though fate or whatever the hell you wanted to call it had different ideas.

It all started after you and James had dropped Alyssa back off at the shitty excuse for a town she lived in now, and you two had begun to drive off to, finally, lay James’ dad to rest. Before you could leave town, however, you watched Bonnie speed past in a car of her own, seemingly headed towards the diner Alyssa worked in.

“Maybe she’s really hungry.” James shrugged, but quickly shut his mouth because both of you knew that was a shitty reason.

Hesitantly, James drove even further away from Alyssa, but as he did so the only thing that ran through your minds were the strange mannerisms and actions Bonnie had demonstrated while see had been with the three of you over the past couple of days. Her secretive nature, the flat tire, the issue at the pharmacy, the way she talked about her boyfriend and so many more. It finally clicked in your mind: it was Bonnie who had sent the bullets to you, James, and Alyssa!

James seemed to have the same realization too because he pulled off the road, suddenly and with a loud screech. He looked over at you with fear in his eyes and reached over to grab your hand, though you weren't sure if it was more so to comfort you or comfort himself. The only thing that didn’t add up was Bonnie’s motive. What had the three of you done to evoke this kind of rage?

That thought was quickly pushed out of your mind as you realized what Bonnie was after as she sped past you. “James! We have to go back for Alyssa, I’m sure Bonnie is heading there now!” you all but screamed.

Without a response, James turned the car around and sped back towards the diner to save Alyssa from whatever Bonnie had planned. Once you got there, James suggested that you lay low until Bonnie actually showed herself, which you agreed to. It took a couple hours, but eventually, once night had fallen, the customers slowly dwindled, and Alyssa became the last employee left at the diner. It wasn’t until James tapped your shoulder to wake your from your near sleep-state that you saw Bonnie walk into the diner.

“I’m going to sneak in the back and try to get Alyssa out of there. You go and call the police on that payphone over there, then come back and wait for Alyssa and I in the car.” James told you, ready to get out of the car.

Before he could open the car door, you grabbed his wrist. “Do you really think I’m going to leave you alone in there with her?” you demanded, angry that James wanted to sideline you. “I’ll call the police, but then I’m going to go in the back entrance. My name was on a bullet too, this is my fight too.” you told him.

“(y/n), please. I don’t want to - I won’t - see you hurt. For my sanity, if not for your own safety, please stay in the car.” he pleaded with you, his eyes soft and sad.

One look in his eyes and your resolve weakened a bit and you let go of James’ hand. “Okay. I’ll call the police and then go back to the car.” you told him and kissed his cheek softly.

James nodded his head in thanks and offered you a smile small of reassurance, then opened the car door and ducked down to sneak into the kitchen of the diner. You waited a minute or before you also exited the car and made your way to the payphone that stood just below the window line of the diner.

“Hello, hello?” you whispered once someone picked up on the other line. “Please, you have to help us, there’s an emergency!” you tried to explain, but the service was spotty and all you got as a response was broken words and static.

Frustrated, you slammed the phone back on the receiving and ran your hands down your face. After a moment, you carefully peaked through the window to try and see if James had gotten Alyssa out of the situation. Instead, what you saw was Bonnie’s back and Alyssa, who looked frightened and unsure of what to do; not the strong, abrasive girl she normally was. As you looked in at the scene, you realized you had a decision to make: go back to the car like your promised James or go and help protect your boyfriend and your friend from Bonnie.

It wasn’t a hard to decision to make as you ducked back down and ran as fast as possible to the back door. Luckily, the door made no creaks or moans as you opened and closed it to enter the kitchen area. A quick glance of the backroom told you James was sitting against the grill, two knives in his hand, and you crawled, quietly, to where he was.

Once you sat on the ground next to him, James looked at you with a fury in his eyes you had never seen before. He tried to push you back towards the door, but you resisted and silently told him you weren’t going anywhere. He rolled his eyes, but handed you a knife for protection anyways. The plan was too disarm Bonnie, who had a gun, before she could hurt Alyssa. As you listened Alyssa try to talk Bonnie down, you noticed another knife on the oven across from you, and you reached your arm out to try and grab the handle for better defense.

Right as your hand grazed the handle of the knife, it became unbalanced and clatter to the ground, which rung out loudly throughout the whole diner. Fear gripped your heart in a tight hold and you pushed your back against the grill again, and squeezed James’ hand out of habit.The only sound you heard, besides your heavy breathing, were footsteps, which you assumed belonged to Bonnie, before she spoke.

“I see you two, get out here.” she demanded. “And drop those knives.” she added as an afterthought.

Slowly, you and James stood up and made your way out to the main area of the diner, where Alyssa sat at the end of a booth bench. James stood next to the empty both, and you, reluctantly, sat down at the end of the other booth bench.

“Unbelievable.” Alyssa muttered, deflecting her fear as anger.

James looked towards the floor. “Sorry.” he mumbled, though it was more to you than it was to Alyssa.

The conversation turned dark quickly as Bonnie explained she planned to shoot the three of you for murdering her boyfriend - Clive Koch. The same fear from before continued to grip at your heart as you realized these could be the last few minutes of your life. The only comforting thought that ran through your mind was that James was by your side. He made you feel safe, more willing to accept your death that was sure to come soon.

Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help the few tears that slipped down your face as Bonnie shook the gun every few seconds for emphasis. James saw this and slowly moved his hand to squeeze yours as a last ditch attempt to comfort you and district you from your fate. Bonnie must have seen this because she stopped her rant in the middle of her sentence and turned to face James.

“Have you ever had the person you love murdered?” she questioned, the rage in her eyes unmistakable.

“N-no.” James stuttered and involuntarily glanced in your direction.

Bonnie nodded with a slight smirk and before any of you could react, she grabbed ahold of you and wrapped her arm around you in a tight grip, her gun pressed harshly against your head. “Well change of plans.” she said as you tried to wiggle out of her grip. “I’m going to shoot her right in front of you so you can live with the pain I feel.” Bonnie explained.

With those words, your tears fell faster and more frequent as you realized there was nothing James or Alyssa could do to save you without endangering themselves, and you didn’t want that. Out of pure instinct, you glanced over at James who looked absolutely broken.

“Please, Bonnie, don’t do this.” James pleaded, and though he tried to look strong, you could see his confidence waivered.

“H-he loved me, and you all took him from me! You killed him!” she shouted, her own voice shaky as emotions bubbled up, but her grip on remained strong.

There was a desperation in James’ eyes as he rushed to answer Bonnie. “I-I killed him. It was me, not Alyssa, not (y/n), me! (y/n) wasn’t even in the room when I killed him, she’s innocent. Please let her go” James explained as he tried any possible avenue to keep you out of harm’s way.

He had told Bonnie the truth; you were nowhere near Koch when James had killed him. At the time he tried to attack Alyssa, you had been in the bathroom washing up from the day’s events. It hadn’t been until you heard the thud of a body hit the ground that you knew what had even happened. Besides being in the house when it occurred, you had no connection to the actual murder itself.

“It’s true.” you whispered, hoping Bonnie could be reasoned with.

“People deserved to be punished, and that’s what I’m going to do to you.” she said with a finality that made you sob.

The gun was pressed harder against your head and you couldn’t help the ugly sobs that escaped your lips. Everything you knew was about to end and there was nothing you, Alyssa, or James could do about. The thought that kept running through your mind was James. You didn’t want to leave him alone, but he would have Alyssa with him if you died. He’d be alright, right?

As these thoughts swirled through your head, you missed the conversation that James and Alyssa had with Bonnie as they slowly brought her to understand the truth that none of this would help anything. Nothing registered in your mind until Bonnie loosened her grip on you, then shoved you so hard that you landed on the floor with a thump and immediately curled in on yourself for protection.

“What do I do now?” you heard Bonnie ask.

“I don’t know.” Alyssa admitted to the girl.

What came next was a blur as the tears continued to stream down your face and hold yourself tightly to remind yourself that you were okay and that you were, in fact, alive. A few moments later, there was a presence by your side and you flinched away before you realized it was James. One look at him and you flung yourself into his arms and buried your face in his chest.

“Shhh.” he tried to calm you as he pressed kisses to your hair hesitantly. “It’s all over now. You’re okay, you’re safe with me.” he promised.

Even as you heard the sirens wail outside, you stayed tucked in James’ arms as you tried to recover from the traumatic event you just were apart of. Eventually, your sobs faded into a quiet sniffle and James led you outside when the police asked you to step out of the diner. For the rest of the night, you stayed connected to James side because he was right. As long as you were with him, you would be safe.

#teotfw #james teotfw imagine #teotfw imagine #james teotfw x reader #the end of the f***ing world #the end of the ***ing world fanfic #james x reader

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thecaffeinebookwarrior · 6 years

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The Objective Correlative and You: How Symbolism Can Improve Your Writing!

Learning of the objective correlative is like learning a new word. Once you know what it means, you start to see it everywhere.

I learned of this literary gem during my last grad school residency. As defined by Merriam-Webster, an objective correlative is, “something (such as a situation or chain of events) that symbolizes or objectifies a particular emotion and that may be used in creative writing to evoke a desired emotional response in the reader.”

Most of my writer peeps have probably, unknowingly, used objective correlatives in their own work. I know I have. And if you’ve picked up a book within the past decade, than you’re at least familiar with one or two.

Don’t believe me? Here are a few examples of famous objective correlatives.

1.) “The Raven,” by Edgar Allan Poe

(Image source.)

Here’s an easy one. The objective correlative, in this case, is Poe’s titular corvid, who represents grief, loss, and hopelessness.

The bird visits the nameless protagonist “once upon a midnight dreary” while he ponders the death of his beloved, “the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.” When his asks his winged visitor if he will see Lenore in the afterlife, the bird merely replies, “Nevermore.” It embodies his sorrow, loss of faith, and fear that they will never be reunited.

2.) Life of Pie, by Yann Martel

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Can you guess? In this case, the objective correlative is our boy Richard Parker, the oddly named tiger who accompanies Pi on his lone voyage. Richard represents Pi himself, while their journey alone in a lifeboat represents Pi’s spiritual journey.

3.) A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith

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First off, I highly recommend everyone read this book -- especially everyone who thinks The Classics(TM) are reserved to the angsty male protagonists who were shoved in your face during high school. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn does not fuck around: it deals with poverty, classicism, drug addiction, female sexuality and sexual autonomy, and an assload of complex, flawed, strong-as-hell female characters. And it was written in 1943. Do yourself a huge-ass favor, and read A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

Anyhoodle. The tree in question is the Tree of Heaven, growing outside of Francie Nolan’s window. Though the tree is considered a nuisance, and was chopped down several of times, it continues to grow. The tree represents Francie’s determination to survive, grow, and better herself, in spite of the destitution in which she grew up.

4.) The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald

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Speaking of angsty male protagonists, let’s have a look at one of the angstiest of them all. This is a pretty famous example, so see if you can figure it out.

Give up? It’s the green light. The green light represents Gatsby’s longing for Daisy.

5.) Where’d You Go, Bernadette, Maria Semple

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Let’s conclude by moving away from objective correlatives which are, you know, objects. In this case, Bernadette has literally disappeared into her role as a wife and a mother. She has completely lost her sense of identity, which is represented by her physical disappearance.

So, why should you care?

Simple! The objective correlative is a great tool. It conveys emotions in a far more organic and powerful way than simply hitting the reader over the head with them.

Imagine if “The Raven” was just a poem about some dude feeling sad and grieving his dead girlfriend. No ravens to be seen. That would be a total bummer, it would immediately make the title grievously misleading, and no one would probably remember it.

Or if Life of Pi was just a story of a kid trying to survive in a lifeboat, alone, for over 150 pages. That would be just plain bleak, and a lot less exciting, interesting, or memorable.

The tree in Tree Grows in Brooklyn emphasizes Francie’s struggle, and enhances the emotional poignancy of the narrative. The moment when it occurs to us that Francie is the tree, growing upwards in the face of adversity, is far more powerful than having it simply spelled out to us.

In many cases, the objective correlative is the physical conflict that represents the emotional conflict, as in the case of Where’d You Go, Bernadette -- without it, there would simply be no book.

So next time you read a book, make sure you have a pen in your hand -- I always do -- and see if you can spot the objective correlative. As with any literary tool, the more you read about them, the more they can work for you!

I hope this helps, and happy writing!

#writing tips #caff's writing tips #daily writing tips #objective correlative #symbolism #literary terms #literary lessons #writing lessons #writing vocab #writing community #my writing tips #Edgar Allan Poe #the raven #a tree grows in brooklyn #the great gatsby #life of pi #where'd you go bernadette

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glamourweaver · 4 years

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I’m finally returning to my planar revision project for D&D cosmology that I feel better reflects the alignments (rather than rewarding goodness with bliss and punishing sin - only the plane of Lawful Good particularly cares about punishing evil, and pure Goodness involves a great deal of self-sacrifice and suffering in its own right), makes sure all the planes are interesting, and collapses together some redundancies.

Prime Material is the plane of True Neutrality at the middle

The Astral Plane is the transitive planes between the outer planes. It is a lot more active place than in canon D&D, as it is the plane of dreams, filled by the subconsciousness of every being in the Peime Material, cut through by the river of souls constantly moving petitioners and the reincarnating to their destination plane

The plane of Neutral Good is Nirvana. A psychoactive plane of COMPASSION, its cyclical layers each expand endlessly inwards until you open your mind enough to the universe to step into the next inner layer. It has been described as lotus shaped. For many it is not a paradise as it is marked by being psychically opened to the suffering of others through the cosmos, and many petitioners here voluntarily take on the suffering of others to relieve their pain. Some people pick up cool psychic powers too though. The dominant pantheon here thematically draws on Tibetan Dharmapalas

Arcadia is the plane of Chaotic Good. An emotionally reactive plane whose layers branch through a world tree. The petitioners here can die repeatedly and rise again for new tales each day, as the dominant pantheon plays out Indo-European influenced melodramas, romances, new vendettas, and battle elemental titans, shaping geography in new ways every few weeks with new formative legends. FREEDOM is the dominant guiding theme here. Anything you liked from Arborea or Ysgard can be woven in here.

Xaos is largely unchanged from canon Limbo or the Pathfinder Maelstrom. The philosophical theme here is ABSURDISM (in the existential sense, not the comedic sense necessarily). Meaning becomes absent in randomness.

Abaddon is the plane of Chaotic Evil. DESTRUCTION rules this plane of sinking entropy. The layers here are Prime Material worlds that have been destroyed, and are now small-h hells overrun by demons of countless breeds and apocalyptic environs. In addition to any given layer from the Abyss, this Plane also supports any Pandemonium environment as the dark maddening interior of one given world.

The plane of Neutral Evil is Stygia, a realm of utter SELFISHNESS. This plane is among the least changed from Planescape Grey Wastes or Pathfinder Abaddon. The plane itself is covetous and slowly drains hope, and will, along with color, from those who tarry here. I will add however that one can replenish their vitality and emotional strength on this plane, through acts of predation on others! So the worst people here are vibrant with the life energy they’ve ripped from others, and can even take that power with them. It’s shadowed vaults are also rich with treasure as the covetous plane collects wonders lost throughout the cosmos and guards them jealously.

Kur is the towering mountain plane of Lawful Evil. Structured like canon Celestia, it evokes Dante’s Purgatory with an Olympian paradise on the summit where the dominant pantheon rules, while on the layers below, petitioners and lesser divine being toil in degrees of servitude attempting to rise to the next layer up. Arcane and exploitative taboos easily can cast a subject down to a lower layer of harsher toil, while those who accept the fixed ordained nature of the hierarchy can achieve lesser divinity status overseeing and enjoying the benefits of the toil on a given layer. POWER rules all here.

Axos is the Plane of Lawful Neutrality. Unlike the random existential absurdism of Xaos, it is fixed DETERMINISM that robs individual choice of meaning here. It is largely like Mechanus, except that celestial bodies are part of its machinery, seeming to guide the entire clockwork dance of the Prime Material and cosmos as a whole. Laws of course abound, but they do not impact status as in Kur, nor justice as in Aaru. They are all concerned with every being doing their part in the function of the machine, and breaking those laws results in needing to overcome the metaphysical gravity of the machine itself. If a strong enough being did however, the mechanized immuno-response beings would immediately seek to remove the offender, not with any degree of malice or righteousness, but merely as a broken part that is endangering the workings of the machine.

Aaru is ruled by JUSTICE. The dominant pantheon of this Lawful Good plane combines aspects of Egyptian mythic aesthetics with the structure of traditional Chinese myth. Two layers face each other, like canon Bytopia, illuminated daily by a dying and resurrecting sun god moving between the two layers. Across one layer the crystal cities of the gods and their just petitioners shine as stars mirroring countless Prime Material skies where they are worshipped. On the opposing layer, red flames lick up from dark water to create a hellish sky where the wicked are justly punished under the watchful gaze of their judges above.

In addition to these eight, there are 4 more planes, that reflect how the joined alignments address the other alignments.

Elysium is the Lawful Good example of this concept, as a plane of PEACE, it is a place of concordance between the alignments. I haven’t gotten the full structure figured out yet, but it’s here you’ll fine the anti-magic field the Outlands are known for in canon, combined with almost drug like auras of tranquility.

The Beastlands are where Chaotic Good makes room for the other alignments, via the STATE OF NATURE.

Acheron, unlike its canon alignment, is actually where Chaotic Evil incorporates the other alignments through CONFLICT, as it’s here where Planar armies make war upon each other. The chaotic evil destruction of large enough battles anywhere on the Outer Planes (other than Abaddon) will open gates to here by nature (in contrast those epic battles that form new stories warping the terrain of Arcadia are fought between champions, not armies). Structurally it’s the same as in canon.

Finally, Lawful Evil incorporates the other alignments through IMPRISONMENT in the Plane of Carceri. Largely structured like canon, it’s also where you get all the Gehenna and Yuggoloth elements you may want (as binding contracts of service are one of the only ways to leave Carceri, so mercenary fiends abound), and one of its spheres is Baator, imprisoning defeated rebel celestials ala Dante’s inferno.

#dungeons and dragons #planescape #pathfinder #d&d #rpg #rpgs #revised outer planes

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toxicpineapple · 5 years

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This will sound weird but hear me out, I never understood why people like Ibuki so much since she seemed like the typical comedy relief type of character. But you loving her so intensely is making me have second doubts about my indifference to her. Would you please explain why Ibuki holds the key to your heart oh our great lord and saviour?

ahh i’ve been looking for an opportunity to talk about ibuki, thank you so much for asking.

this might sound like a really weird reason because i do write a lot of angst (and in many ways i feed off of it; it’s just cathartic, y’know) but i think the biggest reason why ibuki captured my heart is because she’s just a genuinely confident and happy person.

you don’t get that a lot in fiction. usually when it comes to creating a deep, insightful character, people assume that they have to have some kind of tragically scarring backstory. something really sad and awful in their past that’ll make them all of a sudden more complex and interesting. i don’t really buy into that; i think there are plenty of complexities behind happier characters, even if it doesn’t always seem that way. and that’s the reason why i appreciate ibuki so much, because she really ISN’T shallow, even though it seems like she’s just quirky and funny and there to have a great time.

in her free time events, she drags hajime into a band and has him running all over the island, seemingly at her whims? in one of the ftes they even headbang together until they both pass out. you just don’t get to see hajime letting loose at any other points in the game and that was something that REALLY made me smile, the effect that ibuki had on him. he was so worried all the time about the killing game, and his talent, and all of that, and here was ibuki who baffled him so much and yet allowed him to just relax a little bit and enjoy himself. you’d expect some kind of deep, angsty thing for her final fte, because that’s sort of the expectation that danganronpa sets up, but that’s not what ibuki gives you.

she reveals in her final fte that the only reason she was doing all that stuff with hajime was in the hopes of helping him figure out what his talent is. when she said that i like, actually started crying a bit. in all the ftes throughout all the games, you see the protagonists focusing a lot on the characters they’re spending time with. trying to learn about them, trying to help them, et cetera. and of course there are exceptions to this-- kaito encourages shuichi in his final fte, kaede tries to figure out if she and shuichi are compatible with her questions in one of hers, the like. but with ibuki every single time she and hajime are hanging out, she’s trying to help him. like, the focus is on him in it.

that isn’t necessarily a healthy thing for a relationship so please don’t assume that the reason why i love ibuki so much is that she, a woman, devoted all her time into helping a man, alright, because that’s not why. (anti-fems DNI.) the reason why this evoked such a strong emotional response from me is because of the way that ibuki goes about it. she’s so caring in such an understated way. she doesn’t act like hajime is indebted to her, and instead is just slightly disappointed when she finds out that it didn’t work, and then (if i recall correctly; it’s been a while) she proceeds to tell him that he’s more than just his talent, and regardless of whether or not he remembers it, he’ll still be the same person that he is.

you just don’t expect a character like ibuki to be so down-to-earth. and then throughout the game you SEE her caring for other people, most significantly throwing the get-well party for fuyuhiko in chapter three. she’s enigmatic and unique and charming-- absolutely RANDOM too. in the bonus event where hajime and souda go on a date drink from coconuts together, ibuki and peko come down and ibuki says that she and peko were holding hands and walking along the beach. i mean, i don’t really think they were holding hands because that doesn’t feel like much of a peko thing, but peko is one of the most reserved students on the island. this remains pretty consistent i think right up until her trial. and ibuki’s out here spending time with her, dragging her along to drink some coconuts with a couple gays. splendid.

another thing that i really really appreciated about ibuki is how mature she is. you wouldn’t think it, right? i mean she’s admittedly not all that smart and she’s so WEIRD too, she literally bit hajime in the chapter one investigation. but it shows through the most when she talks about her band splitting. she says that they split due to creative or personality differences, but she doesn’t seem all that torn up about it. she admits that it’s a bit lonely being alone but says that she doesn’t regret leaving. and i just think that’s really remarkable. ibuki’s band was SO popular, they were topping the charts, but ibuki valued a sense of unity between band members. she told hajime that that was the most important thing, above anything else. when she saw that it wasn’t working out between her and her band members, she knew she had to go, and she didn’t regret leaving either.

think about how hard that is for a teenager to achieve!! (i would know, being one myself.) i mean, even adults struggle with decisions like that, and i’m sure plenty of people would have tried to just tough it out. in such a successful group, there’s this desire to make things work, even if it’s showing over and over again that they aren’t. ibuki knew that she didn’t have unity with her band mates and knew it wasn’t going to work out, and she took herself out of it.

she lives a really wild life but it’s clear in the way she interacts with other people that she really is just happy with the person that she is. to the point where even sometimes, she’ll calm down and give really good, really well-put-together advice. she dismisses it afterwards, but when someone like ibuki chills out for a second it’s bound to be memorable.

this turned into a really long answer and i didn’t mean it that way, but essentially, anon, what i’m trying to say is that ibuki is a nuanced, complex character, and they managed to pull that off without all the sad, tragic things that they throw into other backstories. i mean, compare her to another one of my favourites, maki. maki is a really great character! i maintain that i love her and that she’s super misunderstood by the majority of the people in this fandom, but look at how far they had to go to make her sympathetic. she was taken by a CULT and forced to become an ASSASSIN to save her ORPHANAGE. jesus, you don’t get that shit outside of fiction. ibuki managed to make me feel way more than maki did, without having all the sadness. she was genuine and thoughtful, cared a lot about others, and took the time that other people didn’t to try to help hajime, and even when it failed she told him that he’s still him through it all.

also she’s FUNNY and GAY as hell and her character design is STELLAR and she SEWS ALL OF HER OWN CLOTHINg and look at her HAIR and i’m weak for a character with PIERCINGS because YES i have these deep character-analysis related reasons but i’m also a LESBIAN and you’re going to have to INDULGE me.

thank you for the respectful, thought-provoking question, anon. <3

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xiaomomowrites · 5 years

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Submission [oneshot]

100 prompts: submission Attack on Titan | Eremika Summary: "You woke me up to spar?" It definitely was not because he craved the proximity that he had been missing for the last day and a half. Nope. Eren Jeager absolutely did not want Mikasa to trap him in another compromising position that had him questioning everything he's ever believed about her and their relationship. But, you know, if it happens then it happens.

Find this story on AO3 and Fanfiction!

“Ackerman, you’re up.”

The sound of the captain’s voice this early in the morning was enough to make Eren wish he was still in bed, sound asleep and oblivious to anything going on within a 50-foot radius. He had taken a five minute breather to nurse the ache on the left side of his torso, courtesy of a nicely aimed kick Sasha threw to take him down.

In addition to the training and experiments Eren's Titan underwent to learn how to crystalize, Levi was in charge of hand to hand combat training sessions. It was to ensure that he didn’t overuse his shifting abilities, ultimately leading to an inability to use it later, while making sure he stayed sharp. Squad Levi was definitely taking advantage of this down time they had, since it was not guaranteed that they would be free to be sitting ducks for very long. It also made more sense, Eren mused, and he suddenly felt foolish taking these hand-to-hand combat training sessions for granted back in their cadet days.

Today, however, marks the first time he was graced with the opportunity to spar against Mikasa, since the smiling titan incident had rendered her out of commission for a while (despite her protests). It was absurd, though, and Armin could agree, how willing she was to do this and how easily the corporal had agreed to let her in the ring just because she insisted she was feeling better already. Just the other day he had scolded her when she was busted for doing sit ups. Either he had that much faith in Mikasa, or he really thought that lowly of Eren’s skill.

“I really don’t think we should be doing this,” he stands up, the pain in his muscles still aching, though significantly less.

“Eren,” she looked at him seriously, “I’m fine.”

He was about to shut her argument down when the captain answered for her.

“Mikasa is the only one who’s skill can rival the other titan shifters; you need to learn from her,” Levi explains, unamused. Eren scowled; he was so biased. He looked back at her and she was expressionless as usual.

Their relationship had improved since escaping the last mission, and it showed the most in how Eren looked at her differently: gentler, maybe even affectionately, though he would never admit that out loud. Ever since she gave her little speech to him expressing her infinite gratitude, he realized that maybe he may have been starting to take her for granted. Before he knew it, he was on his feet punching a fucking titan, and being far more gentle with her in the days that followed.

Despite this newfound confusion, the boy did his best not to read too much into it. He essentially promised that they would be together, forever. It seemed like an appropriate response to her declaration of gratitude when the heat of the moment dictated it, but in retrospect he wondered what the rest of its implications held. What exactly did he mean by it? And what did it did mean to her?

She has been treating him the same as always, with her annoyingly protective Mikasa-ways. But it felt different to him, like there might have been this unspoken understanding between the two of them. Eren had never been so glad in his life that she just understood what he meant without having to verbalize anything.

When she pushes him into submission, his mind takes a dive into the deep end.

First of all, he didn’t even realize he was on the ground, pinned underneath her unrelenting hold. Not until he heard some snide remark from Connie about how quick that was and, subsequently, a snicker from Sasha on the sidelines.

Eren cursed a thousand times in his head as she increased the pressure on the arm pinned above his head. And before he could even register that his other hand was free, it was in her grasp as well. Both of his legs were held down neatly with one of hers. He felt the pressure of her other knee on his stomach and he sighed.

He was trapped; she won.

“Yield,” she commanded, and her soft yet demanding instruction sent a wave of chills down his spine. If he gave in now he would no doubt have to go another round against her, and she knew this. Of course, the mighty Mikasa seemed anything but interested in this, and his ego flared.

“No,” he squirmed, lamely attempting to throw her off of him somehow, until he realized that she had effectively immobilized him.

Eren’s gaze shifted to Armin, who’s sympathetic expression only made him feel worse. Levi, who seemed indifferent, also hid a look that might have told him he was proud of the younger Ackerman, though he had no idea why. Connie was holding in a laugh, while Sasha wasn’t even trying, and Jean just looked disgusted (admittedly, he welcomed this reaction the most).

He took a deep breath, as if that was all he needed to muster the strength to shove her off, but she barely budged. When the hell did she get this strong?

“Eren,” she scolded, increasing the pressure enough to elicit a frustrated grunt. “He’s going to make us go again, there’s no use in fighting.”

“No,” Levi cut in, “He needs to know what to do to get out of a situation like this; we’ve seen him fight Leonhart and Braun before. They always take the fight to the ground.”

“Fine,” she relented, and turned her attention back to the squirming boy beneath her. It was almost endearing, actually, he looked like a small puppy stuck under a couch the more he struggled. But she would never tell him that, lest she want his ego to deflate miserably and his temper to take its place.

But it was too late when she attempted to conceal a giggle, and it came out as a half-chuckle, bringing his attention back to her face.

Big mistake.

The cold, emotionless facade she held not two seconds ago was replaced with something soft as she bit her lip to keep from humiliating him. What she didn’t know was that this had evoked another emotion inside him, one that burned much hotter than embarrassment at his shortcomings in fighting her.

Eren stopped moving altogether when he realized he was suddenly aware of the details. He felt every inch of her body that was pressed up against him and then the battle became internal.

He wondered when she had gotten this strong, but more importantly when she had the curves to compliment her insane strength. The way she bit her bottom lip and held his gaze with those wide, innocent eyes made his breath hitch, and the fact that her face was so fucking close that her hair tickled the sides of his face stopped his heart altogether. Something about her was so paradoxically innocent and naive, yet tempting and almost sultry. He wondered if this is what she looked like in bed.

Nope.

He had to get out of here.

Determined, Eren attempted to weasel a leg out of her grasp. Mikasa, caught off guard from that brief moment of intimacy (if either of them dared to call it that), faltered for a second and unintentionally gave him the opening to free a leg. But before he could get any closer to escaping, however, she retaliated by swinging a leg over his torso to restrain him.

Panic took over him when he realized that he was physically powerless to stop her at this point. So he opted to take whatever coherency he had left in his mind to call out to her, his voice breathy, panicked, desperate:

“Mikasa, don’t-!”

As soon as she sat herself down and applied miscalculated pressure with her hips, her eyes widened and she gasped just loud enough to send him over the edge.

In an instant, his eyebrows met and his jaw tightened.

Whether she got the message or not didn’t matter, for it was enough to render her distracted. He successfully shoved her off to the side and stood up hastily, too fast for Mikasa to react. His back was against everyone else, eyes focused on the ground as he dusted off his clothes and tried his best to maintain composure. For all he could do now was hope to whatever gods were up there, watching, that nobody knew what was going on in his mind, and in his pants.

“I’m...done for today,” he grunted and stalked off.

Mikasa remained on the floor, her gaze shifting up to Levi, who she half-expected to scold Eren for leaving just like that. But the captain had an unreadable look on his face, as if he had understood something that nobody else did. And was he...trying not to laugh?

The young soldier cleared her throat and picked herself off the floor gracefully, ignoring the curious gazes as she dusted the dirt off her clothes in silence. Her whole body felt warm at the thought of Eren underneath her just moments ago. She pictured his eyes boring intensely into hers in such a compromising position, like he was trying to tell her something that she just couldn’t comprehend. The idea of him laying under her, under different circumstances, arms pinned down with a devilishly dark look on his face had admittedly crossed her mind once or twice before. But she never actually anticipated that the real thing would make her feel like this.

But the flustered girl took a deep breath in an attempt to expel the dirty thoughts. He must have been on the same page as her then, because why else would he storm off like that? Did he truly find the idea of her in that way, really that repulsive?

Much to everyone’s surprise, Levi had dismissed the group for the morning after that. He approached her coolly, still looking like he was trying to hide his amusement.

“Heichou-”

“Yeah, tell your boyfriend to keep it in his pants,” he tells her, almost expressionless, as he answers all her questions in one snide remark. Mikasa groans, but not before giving the captain a look of absolute mortification. Eren was definitely going to avoid her for a while.

Eren, predictable as he is, did attempt to avoid her for the rest of the day. There was no other way to deal with the fact that he's frustrated and embarrassed and needed time to think. It seems that every time he closed his eyes all he saw was her, so close, so warm, so inviting. And he was powerless to the primal thing inside of him that made the images more and more lewd as they came in higher frequency the more he tried to avoid her. He tried his best not to think of his best friend this way, it was so...wrong.

Or was it?

No, it was definitely wrong. If he gave into these thoughts he would be just as gross as the boys in the barracks with their dirty locker room talk that he was always forced to listen to in their cadet days. If he entertained these urges, he would never be able to look at Mikasa the same way again.

It was embarrassing, it was distracting, it was...so enticing.

The guilt was definitely intensified by the unsolicited ways he had imagined her in the same position, with significantly less clothing between them. He pictured her, clear as day, sitting atop him, hips straddled across his own. He pictured her eyes, vividly, half-lidded and clouded with lust. And this time when she said his name, soft and breathy, it was not to scold, but out of pure, carnal need and sheer pleasure-

"Fuck," he sighed.

Eren shook his head and turned the shower on to the coldest setting.

Try as he might though, given their situation, there was only so much avoiding the troubled boy could manage. He saw her again for dinner that night with the rest of the squad, Of course, the only seat open is the one next to her as it was part of some implicit principle that they always sat together. His fellow teammates watched as the tension in the room spiked as soon as he sat down beside her.

“Hey,” she greeted quietly.

“Mikasa,” He returned the greeting, but refused to make eye contact, for he was genuinely afraid that engaging in such an intimate act would elicit those thoughts again, and at the dinner table no less.

In theory, dinner could have gone just fine, if she didn’t reach across the table to hand Armin some salt. She brushed her whole left side against him unintentionally in handing Armin the salt shaker, and when she leaned over, her chest was inches from his face. Nevermind the fact that Mikasa always dressed so modestly, Eren’s raging hormones somehow managed to give him some sort of imaginary x-ray vision in the moment. Shortly after that, they both reached for napkins simultaneously. When her hand brushed his lightly enough to send tingles up his arm, he withdrew his hand and muttered a clumsy apology.

“Oi, Eren,” Connie’s voice broke his train of thought abruptly. “You’re not still mad at Mikasa, are you?”

Eren looked up to see everyone’s eyes on him, as if Connie was the only one brave enough to address the elephant in the room. He waited a moment, calculating his response, before shaking his head and casually taking another bite of food, “I wasn’t mad at her to begin with.” There, simple, easy, and he felt her relax a little beside him at his response.

“So we can make jokes then?” It was definitely not supposed to backfire like this.

“Come on, let’s not make jokes about him,” Sasha countered, but then she turned to the boy in question, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “Eren must already feel embarrassed from getting his ass handed to him by Mikasa today.”

“Oh, shit!” her partner in crime reached over and praised her crass teasing with a high five. “Yeah, from the looks of it earlier, looks like we know who wears the pants.”

Armin’s face contorted into some sort of guilty expression, like he wanted to put an end to this. But he understood that there was no need to start anything, especially when those two weren’t intentionally trying to upset Eren and Mikasa with their naturally vulgar humor.

“Oh, please, we already know Mikasa’s such a top.”

“Sasha!” Jean scolded from across the table, face turning red.

“What?” she looks at him, “not like it matters to you! It’s Eren who-”

“Okay!” Armin speaks up once he sensed the impending implosion his best friends were nearing.

Mikasa glanced over at Eren, who had been uncharacteristically silent though this whole thing and looked like he was about to choke on his food at this point. She hesitated for a moment, but in an attempt to ease his mind and make him feel a little less ganged up on, she rested a hand gently on his thigh. Her touch was comforting at first, until he remembered the reason behind this whole mess in the first place was her damned touch.

Eren froze, and she wondered if maybe that wasn’t the best thing to do after all. It was odd, the feeling of something like betrayal crawling up in her chest. It was an unspoken thing between them, these lingering touches and intense moments of eye contact in which each party understood everything they needed to know just from a prolonged glance. Except now he looked even more uncomfortable, so Mikasa felt panic surge through her.

When the titan shifter set his own hand on top of hers for a moment, she thought maybe she overreacted. But then he sighed, and removed her hand from his leg with a simple, “I’m fine,” and she felt like her heart sink fifty meters into her stomach.

“Excuse me,” he mumbles, a few bites left on his plate as he mysteriously walks off again. It wasn’t long before Sasha was asking for his plate.

The next day really wasn’t that much better. Eren had kept himself busy asking Levi for pointless chores to continue on his quest to avoid the problem.

But then the separation anxiety gets the best of him, and he decides maybe to just steer into the skid. It was that exact impulsive thought that landed him at her door at one in the morning, asking her to spar with him again. He needs to get better, he concludes; maybe if he can just learn to beat her, then that should eliminate the need to be embarrassed in front of everyone again.

It definitely was not because he craved the proximity that he had been missing for the last day and a half. Nope. Eren Jeager absolutely did not want Mikasa to trap him in another compromising position that had him questioning everything he’s ever believed about her and their relationship.

But, you know, if it happens then it happens.

“You woke me up to spar.” It was half an inquiry, half a statement, confusion dripping with the question. She seemed annoyed, he thinks, but it was probably just from being woken up. “I’m not even dressed for this, Eren.”

His attention is suddenly brought to the fact that the girl before him was indeed looking a little immodest, only wearing a loose-fitting white sleep shirt and shorts that just barely showed underneath the hem of the shirt. Whatever support her usual bra gave was gone, seeing as these sleep undergarments were designed for comfort, not working out. Eren swallowed thickly, now aware of how dry his mouth was.

“It’s fine, you look fine,” he chokes out quickly, and she’s about to protest about how this wasn’t about how she looked, but he cut her off first with a, “please? I need to get better. I feel...more comfortable when it’s just you.”

But when he realizes the implications of this request, he started stuttering a correction, “I mean, you know, without everyone else watching me make a fool out of myself.”

“Nobody thinks that.”

“I’m pretty sure Jean thinks that.”

Mikasa sighed, assuming her fighting stance. “Fine. Hands up.”

At first Eren was successful in avoiding her takedowns. Unfortunately, somewhere along the line of avoiding irritating her injury even more and the fighting the scandalous thoughts that were harassing his sanity, his determination ultimately lost to the distractions. He eventually finds himself incapacitated yet again. Although, maybe he didn’t mind so much this time.

"How…ugh…" he whines underneath her. He looks up at the sky, just past her dark eyes, sifting through plans A-Z as to how he can make this predicament less frustrating. It just seemed to get more and more difficult each time he tried to fix it.

Then an urge bubbles inside him again, and he couldn’t help feeling so curious and craving that eye contact he missed so much. Helpless to his own doings, Eren relents and initiates eye contact, wondering when she ever had this strong of a hold on him.

To his surprise, Mikasa looks down at him coldly, because maybe she's also a little mad that he's been acting up with no explanation.

"You leave too many openings," she answers simply.

"How is this even fair, you watch me spar other people so you can study my style. Of course I'm predictable to you."

She looks puzzled, "So, you don't watch me?"

Oh, Eren thought, how naive of a question. But at least it confirmed that she was oblivious to the way he has been looking at her lately.

She shakes her head nonchalantly, dropping the question, and he's glad that her lack of emotion and physical distance (despite being on him) is keeping this from getting really awkward. Perhaps there was hope for him after all. ”Annie studied you too, that’s why she had the upper hand.” Eren winced at the bluntess of the statement, and at the fact that she was opening that old wound up again. “Look for an opening and take me down before I get you first. If you insist that I find you predictable, then change it up."

"Well...you're too good at this,” he tells her before he can think about it.

She blushes a little, caught off guard because she half expected him to jump on the defense, and he can't help but smile. The funny feeling in his stomach returns.

"Again," she stands up and offers him a hand, and for some reason that is what sparks something in him: her compassion perhaps. The fact that she’s always willing to help him and is there for him no matter how impatient and irritable he can get. That he was confident that even at one in the morning he could wake her up and she would- maybe after protesting a little- ultimately give him what he needed (at this thought turned dirty, Eren huffs in annoyance).

Mikasa really was his ride or die.

It really didn’t help that she was so fucking enticing either, and she honestly didn’t even have to try. Though he would never admit it to anyone else (even himself), Eren believed Mikasa was a pretty girl when they were younger. But then all these distractions came along in his adolescence and he had been completely oblivious to the firm grasp that puberty had on her until, well, today.

The realization hits him hard, slaps him in the face, and he almost wasn't ready when she came at him again.

The second time around, Eren actually manages to take her down...but the moment of victory was cut short when he realizes how she looks underneath him. He has never seen her like this before. He's seen her vulnerable, of course, in battle, but never in this light: at night under the stars. It was just the two of them and no looming threat close by, so that they had the luxury to simply be immersed in some intimacy for once.

She was just looking up at him, displaying this kind of voluntary weakness, some sort of unspoken submission, just for him.

Eren's mind goes wild once more. He suddenly becomes hyper-aware of all the details again, especially since she wasn’t wearing her usual layers of uniform. He understood what she meant by she wasn’t dressed for this, seeing as this thin, flimsy sleep shirt was barely a barrier between them. He felt the way her chest curved nicely underneath his own, and how toned her torso was beneath that. His pants rode up a little, allowing him to feel how soft her legs were where those damn shorts exposed her.

The young soldier was completely slack, beneath him, but she wasn’t frozen in panic quite like he was. His figure towered over hers as he sat there, just drinking in the sight beneath him. He honestly expected her to push him off, chew him out for being such a pervert, and never speak to him again. What he didn’t expect was for her to blink a couple times and lick her lips before his name escaped her in such a way that drove him absolutely mad.

Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck.

When he feels the blood rushing down south at an alarming speed, Eren makes the attempt to flee. But then her eyes darkened and it's like her fighter instinct flickered on once more. Before he can remove himself from the situation, he finds himself under her once again (how the hell did she move that fast anyway?).

She maintained eye contact and an expression that was completely unreadable and almost...predatory. Not that he wasn’t used to her being so indecipherable, and he had certainly seen this unforgiving, predative look on her face before in battle. But it was never directed towards him.

And shit, this was scary. And if he was going to be honest, he really couldn't tell if she was gazing at him with violent or lustful intent.

Mikasa was seated dangerously close to his lower half, and the way her thighs just seemed to fit nicely around his midsection was making it increasingly difficult to think rationally. Her hands, he expected to be as calloused as his, but they were soft against his wrists. He briefly wondered how they would feel on less innocent parts of his body, if she ran those smooth hands down his chest, his abs, his…

Would it really be the worst thing in the world to reach up and just kiss her? Nobody would know.

He squirmed under her, hoping to any of the gods above that she couldn't feel him, again. Where did that thought even come from?? With each passing moment that silence enveloped them, Eren grew frustrated in anticipation. There was a sparkle in her eyes that seemed to be enhanced by the moonlight, and although he found himself entranced, it was still inconclusive.

He broke eye contact, turning his head away in an attempt to regain the composure that he felt slipping away way too quickly. She gives him a moment, then turns his attention back to her with a gentle finger to redirect his chin towards her.

Eren felt his chest ready to explode and his pulse quicken dangerously. His heart was suddenly in his throat and his stomach was somewhere in ass. The anticipation of what she was going to do next was going to be the death of him, he thought. It really wasn't like Mikasa at all to be this bold and forward; was she actually going to...make a move? Come to think of it, he actually had no idea how she behaved when it came to these things.

His questions were finally answered though when she looks down at him darkly and says, as aloof as ever, "never let your guard down."

Suddenly he's mad.

Suddenly she isn't on him anymore, discarded to the side, confused and dazed at his erratic behavior. Suddenly he's trying to catch his breath, irritated, angry, confused, hurt.

He cannot possibly be the only one who feels something else from this, especially with how she was looking at him just three seconds ago!

He runs his hands down his face, trying to calm down. Mikasa doesn't say anything- and her ambiguous silence is driving him absolutely nuts. Maybe steering into the skid was a terrible idea after all.

The walk back to the rooms was awkward and agonizing, and the fight between Eren’s rationality and raging hormones was at a high. He watches as she prepares to disappear into her own room and his mind flashes through a hundred different ways this next conversation could play out- none of which would be possible if he didn’t take action. Not to mention having to deal with this painfully annoying arousal that would more than likely keep him up all night. So he pulls her into his room instead at the last second, pushing her against the door and locking it behind her quickly. His hands are on either side of her and hers reflexively landed on his chest.

It was a completely impulsive decision, but there was no turning back now.

He gives her a once over and Mikasa finds herself utterly flustered at how intensely and hungrily he was looking at her. He presses closer, unsure of what his goal or endgame even was, he just wanted to be close, closer. He craved her touch, and at this very moment he wanted nothing more than to run his hands all over his best friend and feel her skin on his. Whatever rational reasoning that previously told him this was a terrible and inappropriate idea was making its way to jump out the window. The closer he pushed, the more magnetic she felt.

"Mikasa…" he all but purrs, and he could have sworn she blushed profusely in the darkness. "do you have any idea…” he fished around for words, but the whole situation seemed to render him frustratingly incoherent.

“What are you…” the words seemed to die out on her tongue.

When he looked up to meet her piercing gaze, Eren’s deepest fears from the last two days came true: he was instantly lost in the sea of emotions that her eyes held. And suddenly his mind was off, imagining her in the most lewd, titillating ways.

Eren rests his forehead gently against hers, her scent making his mind race faster as he realized he was probably overstepping a hundred boundaries at this point and crossing over into a whole new territory neither of them ever knew existed. Glancing down at her lips was the second mistake of the night, for the way she bit her bottom lip in anticipation nearly sent him over the edge. He was so close to giving in to these stupid, stupid urges, the only thing stopping him was the lack of reciprocation.

Mikasa doesn't push him away, but he can feel how tense she is: her breathing was hitched, jaw clenched, hands keeping him a set distance from getting any closer. She seemed entranced by him, like she wanted to know what he was going to say and do next, but it didn’t seem like she was going to let him.

He notices these little details; she's upset.

"Why are you frowning?" He deadpans. She softens, and one hand instinctively goes up to his nape, stroking his hair lightly, affectionately. He sighs, comforted by her touch, and she smiles gently at his submission.

"You've been very confusing lately," then she cuts right to the chase. "I know why you were upset yesterday."

Eren’s eyes snap back up to hers as he pulls away, cheeks growing warm. "Are you serious?"

She shifts the tone to catch and redirect his inner turmoil, her voice now just as breathy and needy as his. "You can talk to me, Eren. You can tell me anything," she was looking right into his eyes, taking him apart little by little. Did she even know what she was doing to him? But then she asked him something he was not at all expecting.

“Do you really find me that repulsive?”

“What?” it was his turn to be confused. Had he not made it crystal clear in the last five minutes that he wanted her, pretty badly?

“You’ve stormed off twice now,” is all she said and suddenly it made sense why she was so confused and upset.

“No, god no, Mikasa,” his answer came quickly, almost desperate, like he was scared he would say the wrong thing and all of this would just go away. “You've been on my mind all damn day. I just...I didn’t know how...I thought you were…”

"You could have talked to me,” she offered, almost bashful as they danced around the real issue.

"I-! I wasn't gonna...that was embarrassing, Mikasa!"

She seemed to understand, but she wasn’t going to let him win. Taking a deep breath, she tugged at the hem of his shirt until he was pressed flush against her (and oh, she could feel him again). Eren gasps, his face falls onto her shoulder and a low groan escaped him before he could stop it.

"Same thing," she breathes, feeling her face grow warm at his proximity.

"No," is all he can muster at this point as he slowly became aware that she was actually the one in control. Whether or not she was falling apart inside as much as he was, she hadn't made it obvious, and she got him to talk. He swallows and wills himself to explain in the least amount of words possible. "everyone was watching before."

"They didn't know," she countered easily. Eren watches as her eyes flicker to his own lips and he wonders if that was his go signal.

"Stop being so difficult," he growls. Whatever rebuttal she was planning to throw at him was forgotten when he pulls her in and finally kisses her, a final attempt to let her know exactly how he's been feeling in the last couple days.

Mikasa’s lips were soft and warm and her hold on him was so gentle. It was nothing like the intimidating demeanor she displayed in forcing him to yield in battle. Yet, it brought him to submit anyway, wondering briefly how he managed to keep from giving into her like this. But Eren was a vindictive little shit, and after getting a taste of what he had been missing out on, he wanted more.

He leads her off the door and onto his bed, and studies how flustered she looks. It occurs to him that maybe he wasn't the only one frazzled and heated over all of this. So a sense of personal victory surges through him and manifests itself in some newfound confidence as he closes the distance between them once more.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan fanfiction #aot #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #eremika #eremika fanfiction #Eren Jaeger #Mikasa Ackerman #eren x mikasa #mikasa x eren #ao3

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angelkurenai · 7 years

Text

Imagine being an Omega and during a night out in a bar you meet your true Alpha mate, demon Dean.

“This is such a terrible idea.” you groaned as you followed after your friends.

“Will you stop being such a cock-block already?” one of your friends asked and you rolled your eyes.

“If a cock-block to you means having some actual sense in me, then no. What we're doing is simply reckless, don't you see that!?” you tried to keep yourself from raising your voice.

“Oh come (Y/n/n) just live a little! It's not the first time we're going to a bar after sneaking out in the middle of the night!”

“She's right, stop complaining and relax! Just enjoy this!” she threw an arm over your shoulders and you shook your head in disbelief.

“Sure and then as a ghost I'll say to my parents, mom, dad, don't cry that I died just know I enjoyed it!” you said full of sarcasm, glaring at your friend.

“Geez (Y/n) you're not gonna die tonight, relax! It's just a bar like any other.” she shrugged.

“Do you need me to point out for like the millionth time that there was dead body found here just last night?!” you looked at them with wide eyes “It was all over the news!”

“Really? Cause I don't see one here.” she giggled and you glared at her.

“I'm serious about this! That place in there is full off not just asshole Betas. There are killers in there and there are Alphas that I- I don't wanna think what they're capable of.” you shuddered but they just brushed it off “There is no place for Omegas in there, the second they catch smell of us we're screwed! Come on, let's just go back.”

“Oh please (Y/n), some of us may be Omegas but they're not gonna be all over us just for that! We lived in a country with laws, we don't just act like animals whenever we want to.”

“Some Alphas do.” you chewed on your lower lip “I tell you doing this is not a good idea, if we've got some asshole Alpha on our tail after this-”

“We'll deal with it, hush now. Plus, who knows maybe we'll end up being lucky instead tonight and find some cute Alpha to take back home.”

“At the age of twenty and this is what my life has come to.” you shook your head.

“Yet you still haven't left or run away, so that proves a point!”

“It proves the point that I care about you and don't wanna lose my friends!” you retorted.

“Or there is a pull! There is something stronger, in there, probably your own Alpha waiting for you walk in and rock his world! Both literally and metaphorically!” she giggled as you rolled your eyes.

“Just shut up, you'll love it you'll see. Black Spur is the best choice for tonight, and we're about to get in!” and with an ever so dramatic move she pushed the door open, all of your friends giggling and laughing as a laugh slipped from your lips. You were a little overwhelmed as it usually happened with any bar when the door first opened, but it wasn't unpleasant in the least bit. If anything you could actually say that if it wasn't for what you'd found out you would probably show up regularly here.

There were enough people around you, both men and women. Different scent letting you know that thankfully there were already a few Omegas around, like the blonde waitress herself who offered you a small smile as you entered. Your eyes moved all around and you did notice a couple men already staring at you, in an all too familiar way. Being young, unmated Omegas certainly made plenty of heads turn when you walked in a place. Those men were no exception, and they just screamed asshole Alpha in all kinds of ways. It made your skin crawl but you knew the best option was to not challenge them any further by continuing your staring. You recognized a couple Betas in the crowd as well, their scent being more subtle.

But as your eyes skipped all around the place there was one thing that made you freeze in your place, even as your friends walked ahead of you. It stood out like none ever before had to you, you could probably spot it from miles away. It was both not just the strongest but also most delicious scent you had ever had the chance to smell. It evoked a different mix of emotions through you that overwhelmed. A heavy feeling sat at the pit of your stomach, your heart leapt to your throat and your whole body shivered, your mouth watering and your throat closing. Your heart hammered inside your chest as you searched all around for the source and sure it didn't take you long to find it, because the person was also looking for an equally strong and appealing scent to them.

Not just any person, though, your Alpha.

You felt the shivers run down your spine once you locked eyes with his gorgeous green ones. He was at the bar with just a beer next to him, his whole demeanor would otherwise scream trouble but you didn't have the mind to think about it at the moment. He seemed to have a dark aura around him but for some reason those green eyes didn't give you the feeling that he could be real bad. You saw him lick his lips and jump up from his seat, striding towards you.

Without a second thought you did the exact same, the closer you got to each other the stronger the scent and your feelings got. You almost felt dizzy, your breathing becoming ragged and you couldn't control how hard your heart beat inside your chest. He was faster than you, having reached you more quickly and the moment you were only inches away a whimper actually left your lips.

“Alpha?” you whispered and when you got a growl as a response and you instantly the craving build inside you. The craving to have him all over you, and although not easily turned on just by a man's looks you struggled real hard to think straight this time. He looked even better from up close and if those lips weren't to sin for then you didn't know what.

“Omega” his voice was rough, naturally so, and husky as he stared at you with blown pupils Without a warning he took hold of your arms and pressed you tightly to him, burying his face in the crook of your neck after pushing away every piece of fabric that could prevent him from having skin to skin contact. He held you by your waist while his other hand was at the back of your neck. You did the same, tugging away at the flannel he was wearing a little too roughly, fisting the fabric in your hands and trying to press yourself as close as possible, which gained a chuckled from him.

“Hey lovebirds-” your friend's voice sounded so distant “The whole bar's staring at you, you can take it somewhere else yeah?”

“Sh-she's r-right-” you stuttered breathlessly but you didn't pull away, you just couldn't “Alpha” your choked out although your lips skipped over his skin, trying to inhale as much as of that wonderful scent as possible. Your hands were roaming each other unable to stop.

“”Mega.” he growled softly, pulling just barely away to take a look around him “Let's go.” he breathed out huskily, taking hold of your hand and only giving you a small tug before you just followed after him.

“You rock his world girl!” one of your friends cheered after you and you looked at her with wide eyes, still following after your Alpha. You caught him chuckle at the words and looked down with burning cheeks, thankfully when you got out for the cold night air hitting your face.

He lead towards a beautiful car you had noticed from before and pressed you against it, staring deeply into your eyes for a few minutes before finally breathing out “Damn I'm a lucky bastard.”

“Name's (Y/n).” you whispered with a small chuckle and he grinned at you.

“Dean, sweetheart. Hell, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Trust me, pleasure is all mine.” you breathed out shakily, making his smile widen.

“So tell me, little one, what's a pretty Omega like you doing in a place like that?” he paced his hands on your hips, and using a leg to parts yours, bringing his face close to your cheek “You've got all kinds of Alphas looking at you the moment you entered the place-” he almost growled and said in a scolding voice “To the point I thought I'd be spilling lots of blood for your pretty eyes tonight.”

“Wh-what?” you whimpered softly, but it wasn't just at the fear that rose up in your chest. As much ashamed as you were to admit it you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning when he pushed your hips with his. It hadn't happened before but then again this was your Alpha, your body was reacting to his touch without you even realizing it, it was basic biology. That, plus the insanely handsome but dark man could have any woman undressing in front of him with just a look.

“Dean” a voice was heard before he had the chance to respond and he sighed in frustration, looking over his shoulder for just a split second just as you did to notice the blonde waitress from before standing there with a somewhat crestfallen look on her face.

“Busy now.” he growled, looking back at you and never tearing his eyes off you, his hands roaming your entire figure and face buried in the crook of your neck again.

“Crowley-” she cleared her throat, her eyes lingering on you for a moment before she looked away “Crowley says he needs to talk to you, it's important.”

“Tell him I'm busy.” he growled, just as frustrated but as you ran your fingers through his hair you felt him relax and smile almost wickedly as he looked up at you.

“Love the effect you have on me already.” he said in a husky voice and you couldn't stop a giggle.

“But he said he needs you to do something, some plans. He-” she spoke again and you saw him roll his eyes.

“I don't care!” he snapped angrily, slamming his hand on the car and making you both jump. But he instantly turned to you, holding your chin with his hand.

“Easy Omega.” he said in a still rough voice “Alpha's not gonna hurt you. Never.” he leaned in, his eyes still dark but somehow giving you only a feeling of safety because you actually felt that his words were real “Say it?”

“Never” you whispered, nodding your head as he did. It wasn't just the command or how you naturally did as he said but because you actually felt yourself relax.

“Good, baby girl.” he, unlike what you'd have ever thought, leaned in and kissed your cheek almost tenderly so.

“Tell him I don't care what his game is, I'm not his toy. I have my own plans for-” he looked at you, licking his lips “Tonight and for the rest of the way.” he smirked slightly when you bit your own lip.

“Al-alright.” she hesitated but was back inside without a further word, your eyes following her every step inside and you couldn't help but wonder for a moment.

“Alpha” you whispered, catching his attention immediately “Is she-”

“Of no importance.” he completed your sentence without waiting a bit “Don't think about it now, baby. You're my Omega, aren't you?” he raised an eyebrow and you gave him a small nod.

“Good, because there is something else more important here to talk about.” he pulled slightly away to look you in the eyes “You need to have some courage to at least come in a bar like this, especially if there was a murder just last night, right? What are you doing here, Omega?”

“I-” you cleared your throat, maybe your nature meant you were submissive to your Alpha but you wouldn't listen to the rules and play weak, not when you could “I simply wanted to have a night out, some fund with my friends. We snuck out in the middle of the night just so that we could see the infamous Black Spur from up close, murder or not.”

“Quite the rebel, aren't you?” he smirked “So what, not put off by the idea that there was blood here just 24 hours ago?”

“It is a little bit but my friends say I should stop being such a goodie-goodie and a cock-block so- I figured to tag along.” you shrugged and he hummed.

“So what-” he tilted his head “Are you not afraid, little Omega? Are you not afraid of the monster that could do this?”

“There are no monsters, Dean. Only people with real tough pasts and problems.”

He grinned “You're too pure for this world, sweetheart, but not everything's that sugar-coated.” he shook his head, lifting his chin slightly “If anything, the real monsters are closer to you than you think. Let me ask you, what are you really afraid of, (Y/n)? We sure all have our own fears.”

“What are you afraid of?” you questioned back and he chuckled slightly.

“I asked you first you know.” he pointed out with a smirk.

“We are all scared of a thing or two-” you shrugged “Even if you won't admit it so are you.”

“I just love it when you play fearless.” he grinned “You're an interesting, Omega. Not like the ones I've come across.”

“You mean not a submissive little bitch?” you scoffed a laugh “We live in the 21st century, Dean, of course I wouldn't be. If anything, true mate or not, you'll have to fight to win me over, just so you know.”

“Have I not already?” he grinned and you scoffed a laugh.

“Let's pretend you haven't, no.” you giggled “And... to answer your question, there is probably only one thing that... scares me.”

“What exactly?”

“Demons” you breathed out, the smile falling from your lips “Real demons, their black eyes and what they're capable of.”

He hummed, clicking his tongue as he leaned in “Probably... but not for their Omegas.” he said in a rough voice before his eyes turned pitch black.

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el-d-ritch · 6 years

Note

all evens,,

100 character development questions (for in depth and ooc answers, go send numbers to @somnolentis)

002. do they do anything to celebrate their birthday?

nah.

004. do they prefer being alone or with others?

i don’t really know anymore. i guess i’d lean more towards having company, but honestly the idea just makes me feel nervous now.

i know not everybody would end up thinking i’m a freak but it feels like enough would to where i probably shouldn’t even bother. i guess i could take some precautions but what’s the point of having proper friends if i can’t even tell them anything.

a lot of that is probably just baseless anxiety, i know.

006. what sense do they most rely on?

it’s kind of hard to explain that.

i guess my hearing used to be the best. my sight has never been that great and tbh i could probably use glasses, just never bothered to get them.

but now, it’s sort of different. there’s like a seventh sense that’s just… a knowing of things. like having a memory of something without actually having the experience.

some things i just know. not because of sight or sound or anything i’ve learned, really. i just know.

sorry. i know that doesn’t make much sense.

008. what is their favorite fairy tale?

i really like beauty and the beast. it’s cute.

010. who they believe in love at first sight?

i don’t know. maybe. i’m not super cynical about the idea of it, anyway. but it’s been so long since i’ve felt anything even remotely like a crush that it’s hard to really say.

012. what makes your character embarrassed?

god. so many things.

i think the worst is when people make tentacle or vore jokes. it’s so embarrassing. like both for myself and for them. as if i haven’t heard them all already.

014. detail one secret shame your character feels.

everything about me physically probably. not exactly a secret. i don’t have much else to be ashamed about i guess other than how monumentally stupid i was when i was younger.

rest under read-more because this is so many fucking asks, dude.

016. what is their choice of weapon?

i used to really like swords.

but

swords in the real world is fucking dumb, so a pistol, i guess. i learned that the hard way. hands on weapons don’t mean shit when you’re going against a bullet.

that among other things i’m capable of.

018. your character wakes up to find that war has been declared. What do they do?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

become a hermit in the woods once and for all i guess.

020. what are their hobbies?

i really like learning about space. that’s one thing about me that hasn’t really changed at all.

collecting different sorts of hats. i have every color i think. which is dumb because i wear the same one every day.

i’ve kind of gotten into photography lately, if only because there’s a lot of beautiful scenery around the forest and the city. feels like it would be kind of a waste to not document some of it, you know?

plus dave really likes coming with me whenever i decide to go on a walk around the woods. i’ve let him take a few pictures before and they all look like shit but it’s kind of endearing to look at. i put them on the fridge.

022. what is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?

sort of relevant to the last one, but still space.

there’s something so calming about looking up at the stars and knowing just how insignificant you are. the idea used to unnerve me but now it makes me feel at peace knowing that no matter how badly i fuck up, it won’t mean shit in the grand scheme of the universe.

something really comforting about that.

024. what do they consider ugly in others physically?

bad hygiene like most other people although if blood is involved i don’t really care. i may as well be a vampire considering how used to it i am. it’s like i barely notice.

other than that, hell if i know. i don’t really have a place to judge aesthetics anymore. it’s all about the personality.

026. what do they consider ugly in others personality-wise?

unnecessary rudeness for sure. it’s super grating and not at all as cool as people think it makes them look.

on that note, though: people who can’t take a fucking joke. there is no faster killjoy than making a joke and having someone act like you just insulted their dead godmother. fuck.

someone who can’t just properly banter back and forth with me. i hate when talking is like pulling teeth. i hate having to be the one asking all the questions just to keep them engaged in a conversation. boring as fuck.

028. what makes them laugh out loud?

whenever dave does something especially stupid that i know i’m going to bring up in ten years just to embarrass him.

that’s always fun.

it’s another benefit to liking photography, too. i can document it so he can’t say i’m lying. i think i’ll make a scrapbook.

030. do they believe in the afterlife?

eh. i did but it doesn’t really matter anymore if i do now. although i guess it’s kind of a given that i do to some extent considering i’m already a dead man walking.

i’m not going there anyway. to the proper afterlife, i mean.

032. does your character believe in ghosts?

yes.

i mean.

gestures to myself.

i’m a fucking zombie technically speaking so it would be pretty fucking hypocritical if i didn’t.

034. what’s their view of lying?

it’s stupid.

at least anything that isn’t a harmless little white lie, i guess.

i don’t know. personally i don’t do horrendous stuff so i don’t really have much reason to lie myself. it’s not hard just to tell the truth.

036. how honorable is your character?

probably not that honorable. i can’t imagine anyone aspiring to me like me.

038. what bad habits do they have?

so fucking many, you don’t even wanna know.

smoking and drinking, although it doesn’t matter much because it won’t have much of an effect on me, but it’s still a bad example to set for dave. i try to avoid doing it around him at least.

uh, other than that. self harm, i guess, but it’s mostly unintentional when it happens. it’s just really easy to hurt myself.

040. what is their obsession?

what a weird question.

i don’t know, trying to be a decent brother?

042. what is their greatest achievement?

don’t really have any. i guess the fact that i’m still friends with spirit is something i’m pretty proud of.

044. what disgusts them?

not much, if anything. i’m not really a judgmental person.

046. how do they handle getting sick?

lol. i’m always sick.

048. do they have any allergies?

yes. cats. that’s all i’m aware of. idk if it still applies.

050. how does your character feel about their own mortality?

i don’t.

052. what is your character’s worst flaw?

oh, i don’t know, everything about me? have you met me?

i guess personality wise i’m pretty bearable but if you met me irl you’d realize how stupid a question this is.

054. does your character want power or authority of any kind?

no.

056. has your character ever struck someone in anger?

no. i’ve pushed someone, i guess, if that counts.

if my older brother wasn’t dead i’d probably punch him in the fucking head.

there are other people i wish i could hit, too. but they’re already gone.

058. what is your character’s idea of a perfect day?

i don’t have one, really.

060. what is your character’s attitude toward education and learning?

it’s good.

the education system sucks, though. i had a shitty time in school.

i’m really worried for dave, when he’s older. i hope he doesn’t go through the same shit i did. and if he does, i hope he doesn’t react the same way i did, too.

062. what sort of legacy does your character wish to leave behind?

i don’t really care about leaving a legacy, but

i just really want to be a good brother. someone dave will be able to look back on and actually recognize how much i cared for him.

that sounds cheesy as hell, sorry.

064. in what ways does your character annoy others?

the self deprecation probably gets pretty annoying. i’m pretty self aware of that but if i’m insulting myself, i’ll do what i want.

066. does your character prefer city life or being out in nature?

i have the luxury of being stuck in between both.

i like nature, though. i like the solitude.

and nature doesn’t judge you the way people do, either.

068. how strong is your character’s sense of responsibility? what kinds of things trigger it?

decent now, i guess. i have two jobs, i have a kid, i pay my bills.

i used to be super irresponsible and immature but i don’t really have the choice not to be right now. so it doesn’t matter what does and doesn’t trigger it. i don’t have a choice.

070. what about your character is cowardly?

that i’d rather just stop trying rather than fix how badly some things are fucked up.

sometimes you drain yourself out so much that giving up is easier. dealing with the guilt is better than dealing with misplaced hope.

072. in a dungeons & dragons game, which class would your character be? (wizard, fighter, bard, priest, ranger, etc.)

hmmm. tough choice.

i think i’d like being a fighter. eldritch knight seems pretty fitting, after all.

074. what is your character’s favorite game?

don’t really have one right now.

i like pokemon, though. who doesn’t?

076. how do they express anger?

i’d rather not talk about that.

probably not well.

078. how emotionally stable is your character?

not.

080. how easy is it for others to read your character’s emotions?

i don’t know. haven’t been told that yet. i haven’t had a proper friend for a few years.

i used to be very easy to read in person, though. i wonder if that’s changed or not.

082. what are your character’s sleeping preferences?

anything that’s even marginally comfortable. i don’t have much for standards.

084. describe your character in one word.

complicated.

086. How would your character describe themself in one word?

and messy.

088. is your character quiet or loud?

quiet.

090. how bodily expressive is your character?

i don’t really know. it’s another thing i don’t pay attention to until someone points it out to me, and i’ve changed a lot in the past few years.

i guess i’d need an outside opinion.

092. what emotion does your character evoke in others?

fear, usually. unease, most of all.

this isn’t really me patting myself on the back. there’s an actual sort of energy that goes to it, that isn’t.. really mine. it just exists around the very nature of what i am a part of.

094. name three things most would not expect your character to be able to know.

what you’re feeling.

if you’re lying or not.

the meaning of life.

096. how do they move and carry themselves? what energy do they project?

lazily, i guess. i would imagine i look like i always want to drop dead. it’s how i feel, usually.

098. does your character like animals?

yeah. i have a cat and a dog. i love them to death. pun intended.

100. does your character dream? if so, what do they dream about?

sometimes.

of the dark and the things that crawl in it. the realm beyond ours and other things i really can’t explain.

it’s just beyond my ability to, really. it would be easier if i could just show you but i can’t.

i’m used to it. as used to it as i can be without going crazy, anyway.

but it does bleed into reality sometimes.

#bromeggeddon #headcanon #LONG FUCKING POST #whew

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rubyphilomela · 7 years

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Too Much is Sometimes Enough Chapter 7

Prompto X Ruby Philomela

So sorry for the long wait guys but here it is, chapter 7!

Here’s chapters 1-6 if you’re just starting.

Like what you’ve read? Buy a coffee!

Tagging: @itshaejinju @hypaalicious @suzunesays @fieryfantasy @chocobropuffs @sweetchocobae @themissimmortal @stunninglyignis @ridingchocobros @chocobabyporcelain @neko-otaku13 @mistressoli @asoeiki @ascensiontree @iinkpools @chocofeathers @insomniacapples @promptoastandbutter @yfczangel777 @dizzychocobo @roses-and-oceans @xnoctits @wrathwritesthings @myth-muster @nifwrites @dirtyffxvconfession @diabolik-trash-heap @louisvuittontrashbags @ponkita @cactuarkitty @cactwerk @zacklover24 @major-artery @insomniacitizen @chocobrodreamteam @chocobrosb4hoes @ffxv-imagines @momokitty27 @prettyprompto @prcmpto-argentum

“Now that we’re all awake, and apparently have a new companion” Ignis said, gesturing to the brilliant red Chocobo , “Now you will need a Chocobo whistle and some Gysahl greens to feed her.” Ruby nodded, hoping the group had enough money for that as he continued, "I'm going to go and gather some provisions for our trip. If you would like to make sure your companions are all set, we have reaper tails to hunt before we leave so both you and Prompto be sure to eat some breakfast.“

Nodding towards Ignis she took Prompto's hand, lacing her fingers with his even as her heart pounded in her chest and led him with her back into the RV. "Prom, would you please help me get Krypto and Wolfe settled in and fed?”

He nodded, smiling as the aforementioned fluffy kitten twined around his ankles mewing plaintively to be fed. Ruby beamed as she watched Prompto scoop Wolfe up cuddling the kitten close to his chest as he took an interest in his hair and began to bat at it, the sight of which sent her into a fit of giggles ending in a snort earning her a raised eyebrow from Prompto.

Ruby took this opportunity to take the length of braided rope Ignis had gotten for her and used it to take Krypto outside to use the bathroom. After he'd finished her stomach rumbled fitfully as she came back into the RV smiling she watched Krypto trot over happily to eat his breakfast beside Wolfe.

Leaning against the door frame she turned to smile at Prompto who was gathering up the last bits of their belongings and tucking them into bags, “I'm glad we’ll be stopping here and there on our trip so I can put Krypto and Wolfe up somewhere safe, since I wouldn’t want to leave em unattended in the Regalia." Prompto nodded as he zipped the last bag shut before getting them some food and sitting on the couch with plates for the both of them in his hands.

Inhaling deeply she couldn't help but smile at the scent of the delicious breakfast, Ruby walked over and cuddled into his side taking a plate for herself with a contented sigh. Nuzzling close as she took a bite of the freshly made crocque monsieur her mouth watered as the favors melted on her tongue. It was a perfectly peaceful moment, being cuddled up at his side and eating delicious food, her mind began to wander over the events of the last few days. As she glanced up at her blond haired companion, her smile and eyes softened, she marveled at how close they'd gotten in such a short amount of time. She couldn't even think of what would have happened if one of those creatures that she'd seen in her brief time here had found her that fateful day, instead of Prompto. Her voice was somber as she half whispered to herself "I’m so glad it was you that found me Prompto ….”

Prompto’s eyes widened, hearing her softly spoken words and the images they evoked. He didn't even want to imagine a world without her smile, let alone one where she hadn't been found and taken care of on that day. Looking down, seeing her head tucked under his chin and he kissed the crown of it in reply.

Flushing deeply, her breath caught and a smile crept across her lips as she both heard and felt the kiss though it was short lived, she sighed inwardly as she felt his muscles tense behind her as he realized what he’d done. 'Great..hes practically cringing..maybe he doesn't feel that way about me..' Reaching over, Ruby placed her plate aside she moved to take his hands in hers, tracing her fingers along the interplay of the calloused skin of his palms and rough leather of his gloves, finding her voice she spoke softly and full of emotion “there’s no need to be embarrassed, if you are..cause.. I won’t lie and say that you don't make me nervous, or that it hasn’t been forever since I’ve felt this way…. you make my heart race, it scares the hell outta me… but I like it. I..I like you..and just want to make sure that whatever this is doesn’t get messed up… so if you feel things towards me..then lets take things slow, and let whatever happens, happen..if I'm totally off base..then I'll understand.” Ruby’s voice trailed off as her courage failed her. She couldn't count how many times in her life she'd been rejected or more regularly ignored by the opposite sex and admitting feelings towards them was not her strong suite. She really didn't know what she'd do if he rejected her now..or if she'd be able to handle it. 'great job Red..go ahead and make the trip as awkward as you possibly can..its not like you can just go off on your own! What were you thinking??' Her internal ranting was cut off by his warm fingers lacing with hers and squeezing gently, she was so startled it took her more than a few moments to process his response.

Prompto smiled as he let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding even as his heart pounded in his chest, relief clear on his face, glad to hear that she felt the same. While Prompto had looked at and fawned over women in the past he'd never been in any kind of real relationship before, especially since women tended not to notice him when he was around Noctis. 'she likes me...I can't even..wait..I should probably say something back..right? Oh six I am not good at this..OK you can do this Prompto..its just a girl..a very pretty girl..who likes things you like...and likes you ...say something!' “umm..me too”

Ruby had to crane her ears to make it out, and even then she didn't believe what she'd heard.. “you..you like me too?” Prompto's soft nod in response almost went unnoticed as he continued to hold and idly fiddle with her fingers laced with his. Blinking owlishly, a soft and steadily growing smile on her lips, Ruby peered up at him from her spot cuddled up next to him only to find his blue eyes looking back at her just as shyly, a familiar sparkle behind them.

He couldn't stop staring at her, he knew it was weird and he should really say something but her green eyes had his trapped and were slowly drawing him deeper and deeper until he found he didn't want to leave. It was strange, out of the women he had met and known in his life, including the few he'd been attracted to for a variety of reasons, he'd never had one that had both ensnared him and comforted him so completely before. Usually he was a stumbling and stuttering mess around a pretty girl, and while Ruby definitely had him flustered he didn't actually feel nervous around her, he felt safe..like he'd known her forever. Gently disentangling his fingers from hers, earning him a soft pout from her lips he reached up slowly and cupped her cheek as he continued to stare into her eyes, no words crossed between them in that moment, just emotions. Pure, simple emotions.

The sound of a food bowl being knocked over startled them both, breaking the peaceful bubble they had been in as they glanced around the RV looking for its source. Taking Prompto's hand in her own Ruby pulled him along with her to point out the food bowl on its side and food spilled across the floor with the two furry monsters fighting over its remains. Giggling at the sight they waited until the remaining food had been eaten and put their plates away as well as the ones used for the pet food and secured the both of them in the back of the RV, before joining the others outside.

Ignis hoped to reach their nest destination, The Gauldin Quay before nightfall. As the two rejoined the others Ruby was startled by the shout of "Ruby. Catch!" she was immediately grateful to her quick reflexes as she caught the medium sized package he had thrown her. Prompto peered over her shoulder in interest as she unwrapped it, finding: a golden Chocobo whistle on a thin chain that she draped around her neck with Prompto's help, a bundle of green-sweet smelling plants which Prompto identified as Gysahl greens and a few strange looking glass bottles. They felt strange in her hands, each were humming with power, some were ornate glowing with what looked like a life of its own, and one that resembled flames was warm to the touch, another was ice cold and the last gave her a slight zap. Eyes widening as she stared at the vials that appeared to hold living elements, looking up at Ignis the confusion clear on her face.

He smiled adjusting his glasses as he answered her unspoken question "those are a few hi-potions, just in case and some magic vials, at some point you may be able to pull the power out of them to use at your own disposal but until then they work similarly to grenades, throw them at something you want obliterated." Ruby's jaw was on the floor as she gingerly handled the vials taking them and gently arranging them in her jacket pockets feeling very much like she was a suicide bomber carrying such dangerous items contained by what appeared to be simple glass.

Ignis coughed slightly to clear his throat as he began walking towards the door "If everyone is ready we should get going.” Turning to address the slightly dazed redhead, “Ruby lets see if your new companion will grant you the permission to ride, it would certainly make this hunt go by faster and safer, if you weren't required to travel on foot.”

Blinking owlishly she moved with the group, her heart pounded in her chest she was suddenly very nervous, '...sure the Chocobo was sweet, and very pretty, but it was still a giant bird! What if it doesn't want to be ridden! I've seen what happens when horses don't like their riders, and they don't have sharp beaks!'

Taking the golden whistle in her hands she blew into it softly, a beautiful sound emerged and her Chocobo came trotting cheerfully towards them. Ignis stared intently at the creature in front of them that was fluffing its feathers and nosing about at Ruby's pockets, clearly smelling the Gysahl greens she had there. His voice cut through her thoughts. "I don't believe that this is a normal Chocobo, color not-with-standing'' the surprise and confusion clear in his voice.

Nobody had noticed Cid as he walked up behind the group until he spoke his voice tinged with awe had their heads turning, "Now that's a sight I haven't seen in a dogs age! That's a Draft Chocobo! "Blinking in confusion, Ruby's blood red brows arched as she waited for more information as Cid continued. "Draft Chocobo's are extremely rare, almost always found exclusively in the wild and they are usually extremely foul tempered, Ruby you're really got away with em, I'll say! Also this Chocobo can carry two riders at the same time" Also this Chocobo can carry two at a time"

Prompto and the others jaws were on the floor, Noctis walked up his eyes wide as he reached out gently stroking the birds feathers as she nuzzled into his hands. “you're not foul tempered, are you?” Prompto turned towards the Chocobo and spoke to her, his voice gentle and soft chuckling as the Chocobo was working its way through the group, greeting everyone. She nearly bowled Gladios over with a head butt and then whiffed at Ignis's hair earning her a stern look from him and raucous laughter from the rest.

Ruby beamed as she watched the interaction between her newfound companion and the group, cooing softy at her while you held some greens in your hand, she smiled as her Chocobo trotted over eagerly " hmmm what to call you..you are a beautiful shade of red..how about Akai, what do you think? Is that your name?"

A cheerful "kweh!" was the chocobo's response and Ruby giggled, stroking the soft feathers as she was nearly bowled over by the affectionate Chocobo . Calloused hands were on Ruby's shoulders in moments bracing her as the Chocobo nuzzled into her hands, with a hearty chuckle Prompto spoke his breath tickled her neck as he stood behind her.”I guess she likes it!”

Nerves buzzing, heart racing, Ruby leaned into Prompto's arms as she glanced at the giant Chocobo. "I guess now's a good a time as any to see if she'll let me ride her..." Prompto smiled as he moved to place the saddle they'd gotten for her on the Chocobo, cooing softy and speaking calming words as he did. With an ease as if he'd been doing it all his life Prompto pulled himself astride the giant Chocobo and extended his hand to Ruby.

“Come on, I won't let ya fall" taking his hand with a smile, Ruby pulled herself aboard Akai and snuggled up to Prompto's back her arms around his waist.

“As soon as the two of them were settled Ignis looked up at them with a smile, "Now that you're all settled, shall we? Do try not to run too far ahead, we don't want to get separated"

Both nodding in agreement Prompto urged Akai ahead and Ruby couldn't help but 'whoop' when the Chocobo bolted forward sending her hair streaming behind her as the wind caught it. Ruby glanced behind at the others, giggling as they had apparently decided to make it a race, Gladio and Noctis were egging one another on.

The group finally reached the area where the reapertails are supposed to be and stopped, Prompto hopped down from Akai helping Ruby down as well, her cheeks still flushed from the ride she cuddled into his side as they both looked back at the panting group who had finally arrived, Gladio had won but only just barely and he and Noctis were fighting about it, mentions of Noctis being scrawny and not training enough were heard before Ignis glared at them both, ending the discussion.

Relaxing slightly as she looked around at the area, Ruby felt a tickle on the edge of her senses similar to that of when you feel you're being watched, her thoughts were confirmed when Ignis spoke up "Eyes sharp everyone, we're not alone, our quarry should be nearby." Looking around, Ruby's eyes widened as she felt a ripple once more on the edges of her senses, "Guys, something over on the right. Its living.... whatever it is!” Just as quickly as she announced her warning, a hissing sound was heard,

Ruby extended her hands to summon her bow, marveling as it appeared and thrummed with energy as she drew it, aiming towards the hissing sound. Before she could worry about how long she'd be holding this position a scorpion like tail appeared and she knew this must be the creature they were hunting, firing the first shot she couldn't stop the excited squeal as its tail disintegrated and her second shot finished the creature off. “I got one!”

Prompto had summoned his pistol and taken out the reapertail beside the one she'd killed and grinned over at her, surprising her as he took a shot of the two of them, mid battle. Turning her focus back towards the battle Ruby blinked as the others had already killed most of the creatures. Noctis had her eyes nearly popping out of her head as he turned into a glimmering trail of energy and took out one of the reapertails, and a combination of Gladio's sword and Ignis's daggers finished the last one.

Now Ruby would have joined the group in the celebration that followed but something felt wrong, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Before she could express her concerns to the others the ground began to hum and the sound of a large engine was heard. Ignis called out a strange warning “Magitec overhead!” Blinking confused she glanced up to where Prompto had pointed beside her and saw what appeared to be a strange looking drop ship that was pouring out a small horde of soldiers.

The group tucked in towards one another as they looked over their opponents. Before Ruby could draw her bow Ignis called out to her “Remember those gifts I gave you earlier? Now's the time!” Blinking confusedly she thought for a moment before reaching into her jacket pockets and grabbing one of the vials, the one that was cold to the touch. Holding it up he nodded as she aimed and threw it as hard as she could at the group of soldiers that was approaching. The resulting explosion was incredible. A blast of air so cold it hurt was first, making Ruby grateful for her jacket as she blinked several times to clear her vision she couldn't believe her eyes. There the soldiers stood, frozen solid, all of them. Noctis and the others moved quickly nearly leaving her out of the battle as they worked to destroy the frozen soldiers, summoning her pistol she took out the last two before allowing it to dissolve into a glimmer of energy.

Coming back to her side Prompto took her hand and laced his fingers with hers, squeezing gently. “ya did great Red! Knew you could do it!”

Blushing Ruby untangled their hands to pull him into a gentle hug before pulling away with a soft smile, “Thanks Prom, having you there helped, well the others too” Her comment didn't go unnoticed as Noctis and the others glanced at the two with raised eyebrows, their posture clearly impatient. Giggling nervously Ruby once more took Prompto's hand back in hers as her other hand grabbed her Chocobo whistle, blowing it she summoned her companion once more who was just as excited to see her as before. Ignis walked over and nodded briefly at her, pride clear on his face. “You did well out there Red, you kept a cool head and didn't panic.” Gladio nodded as well patting her on the back with a smile, “Yea, great job! Good thinking with that Blizaga spell!” before Ruby could ask more about the spell or get any more flustered from the compliments Ignis glanced at his watch and gestured back towards Hammerhead. “We really must be going, we have a lot to do and not a of daylight in which to do it.”

Nodding in understanding Prompto helped Ruby to get back aboard Akai and the two left the others in the dust once more on their way back to Hammerhead.

#ooc #ruby philomela #prompto argentum #Noctis Lucis Caelum #ignis scientia #gladiolus amicitia #Too Much is Sometimes Enough #ffxv #cid sophiar #cindy aurum #chapter 7

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drarrylovebot-blog · 7 years

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First Kiss

Sorry this one is not very satisfying (c'mon who are we kidding here, this one is fucking shit), but bear with me pls, writing is one of the thing that clears my mind even though the result is shit.

Prompt: The world is not divided into people and Death Eaters

Harry Potter is not sure on many things in his life. He’s not sure whether to use his green jumper or the red one this morning. He is not sure to put two blocks of sugar or just one in his morning coffee. He is not sure whether to use his almond scented shampoo or the citrus one yesterday. So yeah, Harry Potter is not sure on many things in his life, but he is sure on one thing. He is sure that he didn’t die in the forest for this.

He just got back from his daily errands as an Auror, it’s a quite quiet week as he hadn’t got any big cases on his hands for a couple of weeks now. Therefore, his daily life is consisting of training the new Aurors and hitting the gym in the afternoon. He was just hitting the Aurors’ locker room after he finished his afternoon run, when he saw what happened. Draco Malfoy is lying unconscious on the showers floor with blood all around him. Harry is frozen in his place, his mind can’t help but to remember what had happened between them in six years. Now he’s back to being panic on his spot while Malfoy is slowly painting the bathroom’s floor red with blood, except this time it’s not him who casts the spell. When the thought hits him, he can finally hear the other sound in the room. Sneers and mock laughters. That’s when the blood left all his body.

“Oh what is it? Draco Malfoy, the fucking Death Eater, bloody loses on a fight with a couple of inexperience Auror trainees?”

“You’re a dead man, Malfoy! Gawain must have lost his bloody mind when he accepted you on his bloody force.”

“He’s a nutter that one.” At that moment, Harry’s blood is already boiling with raging anger that he’s surprised he can keep his silent until now. The voice owner, which Harry hasn’t seen his face as he’s hidden behind the wall, is pointing his wand at Malfoy’s unconscious form while muttering a curse that is awfully similar to the Blood Boiling curse. Harry whips his wand and reacts before any spell can hit any target. He casts a strong Protego between the caster and Malfoy, and then manages to disarm all three people from their wands.

“What the fucking fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Harry explodes on the people in front of him. Auror trainees are his responsibility up until now, and if three of his responsibility acts like this, then that means he fails to teach them. The young Aurors are gaping at Harry’s enraged form, because let’s face it Harry fucking Potter is a bloody scary force to reckon when he’s livid.

“I –uh, we–” the one at the front stutters.

“You are bloody Aurors! This is not what Aurors do! Ganging up on someone unarmed and innocent, what are you, bloody cowards?!” Now the young Auror looks angry.

“He maybe is unarmed, but he is certainly not innocent.” He hissed the last word as if it’s a foul word.

“You fucktards should understand in those little brains of yours that the war is fucking bloody over! So, fucking act like it, unless you want to evoke another one, and believe me if that happens you will not see me on your side. See here? Draco Malfoy has a higher rank than any of you, so pray for your sorry arses that you won’t be sacked tomorrow.” Harry kneels down beside Draco’s body and lifts him to his chest before standing up. “You know what? Don’t bother praying, I will personally make sure you got sacked tomorrow. Understand this if you have any brain in those large heads, one, the world is not divided into people and Death Eaters, and two, you will be under Voldemort’s reign now if it wasn’t because of Draco bloody Malfoy, so have some respect.” With that, Harry leaves the locker room with bloody unconscious Malfoy on his hands. Only when he’s outside, he lets himself to panic as Malfoy’s body keeps bleeding. “Hang in there, Malfoy.” Draco moans weakly, before his cerulean eyes opens half lidded.

“Harry?”

“Yes, yes, I’m here; hold on for a little bit more.” After that Malfoy mutters a small thank you before blacking out again. This time Harry doesn’t try to run to the Apparate point as he feels the blond boy’s heart stutters for a moment. Without any hesitation he Apparate through all the heavy wards inside the Auror department, no doubt leaving a heavy chaos behind, but right now nothing matter beside saving Malfoy. He almost splinches himself by hesitating on that mere thought, seriously what is so important about saving Malfoy –seriously, he’s a Malfoy! But like what had been established Harry Potter is not sure on many things, so he will just have to push his bloody absurd reasoning to the back of his mind and focus on his urge to save Malfoy.

St. Mungo is not a busy place these days, especially when there is no big cases for the Auror, so it must be a fright for them to see their bloody Saviour holding one almost lifeless ex Death Eater on his hand, face stricken with fear and panic, clothes sticky with blood. They don’t wait to help though, in just a few minutes Malfoy is already in their capable hands. Hopefully will be patched up in a few hours.

Potter is busily biting his thumb nail when Draco silently opens his eyes. Judging from the heavy tinge of antiseptic in the air, Draco concludes that he is alive and in St. Mungo. Ugh, bloody young trainees. He never once thinks that he will land here as the result of young Auror trainees’ prejudices, but here he is, lying weak in a hospital bed just because he refused to hex their sorry arses. He flicks his eyes to the side, and caught the tense form of Harry Potter, eyes down and unfocussed as his teeth keep biting his nail. Oh yeah, he’s the one that save me. Again.

“Stop it,” Draco says quietly. Harry’s eyes snap to stare at Draco’s, then he sighs heavily in relief.

“Thank Merlin! Malfoy you fright me for a few hours there.” Small warmth bursts in the pit of Draco’s stomach at Harry’s words.

“You’re going soft on me, Potter?”

“Fuck, yes, I am, if that what’s gonna save you, seriously. You almost fucking bleed to death, Malfoy, why are you not retaliating?” Harry asks annoyed.

“And have them running to Gawain? I still need my job, Potter.”

“You could at least defend yourself!”

“Can’t do, I left my wand on my table.”

“Don’t do that. I know you can do wandless magic, so why did you not defend yourself?” Draco huffs at that.

“I don’t know, Potter. Maybe I think I deserve that, or maybe I’m just tired of living.”

“Cut the bullshit, Malfoy, we’re past the self loathing and self destruct years of our lives. You and I both know, you have redeemed yourself on the force. It has been 10 years, and never once I see you being a lazy sod. You work fucking hard to get where you are right now.” Harry looks at Draco deeply, so deep it seems like those emerald orbs are reading his soul, so Draco decides to answer honestly

“I’m angry. Half of the thing they said were true, and I’m angry because there will always be a half truth to their words. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I worked, I was a Death Eater. I was one of Voldemort’s followers, and I hurt people –people that I know, people that I don’t know. There will always be this darkness inside of me, Potter, you should understand that more than anyone. This mark,” Draco glares at the vile mark on his arm. “Will always be a reminder of that darkness.” Draco looks at Harry with intensity in his eyes, but somewhere deep inside those silver orbs Harry can see something gentle swirling lightly. Suddenly Draco’s eyes move to his forehead, hand reaching to push his dark lock back and revealing the lightning scar. Then Draco smiles softly as he traces the scar with his thumb, while the other fingers bury themselves on Harry’s hair. “This scar will also be the reminder of that darkness inside you. I know you, Harry Potter. There is also this heavy darkness that is lurking in you, and I hope I can change it, but it will always be there. You bear this scar as a reminder of that for the rest of your life. Something you didn’t choose, but this mark is something I chose, something that I have to live with. I don’t cast my magic when I’m angry, Potter, I’m afraid I’ll lose control of myself, letting the darkness consume me. I’m afraid they’ll be my next victim if I let go when I’m not in control of my emotion.” Harry breathes out a shaky breath at the intensity of Draco’s eyes on him, at the butterfly caress of Draco’s thumb on his scar, and definitely at the rate his heart is beating a tattoo on his chest.

“That’s why you always try to be calm, even in the Manor –back when Voldemort was there- you always put this wall between you and your emotions. You always look so cold, calculating both your moves and your enemy’s, you’re always in control.”

“I lost control once, and I almost Crucio-ed the hell out of you.”

“Sixth year?” Harry’s eyes widen as Draco nods.

“Thank you, Potter, for saving my life once again.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll be sacked tomorrow –and I guess I’ll be sacked too.” Harry mutters the last part which makes Draco scoffs.

“They won’t sack you, Potter. You’re Harry bloody Potter, well, unless you killed the trainees.”

“No, but I did break through their wards to Apparate here.” Draco splutters at this. Harry bloody Potter broke dozens of Aurors’ Department strongest wards to get him here? What the fuck? “No –I mean, it’s just your heart is stuttering and I was panic, so I Apparate on the spot.”

“Why did you even do that, Potter?” Draco says wearily, while closing his eyes. Seriously, this bloody Gryffindor needs to stop breaking the rules. Potter starts pacing on the floor.

“Because if I didn’t, then you will die, and I don’t want you to die. Not now, not after the war, not after your hard work on being one of the best Auror, and I can’t let you die like that. I haven’t even talked to you again after the war, and you cannot die before I could mend the animosity between us, because I want to. I want to know you, and I want to witness how life will finally give you a break from all of these prejudices, because I didn’t die for this kind of world—” Harry starts rambling in a very pace fast which makes Draco smiles widely.

“Harry…” he starts but Harry keeps going –Salazar, he’s adorable. “Harry!” this time Harry stops and looks at him.

“What?”

“Breathe…” Draco smiles again. “Now, I’m gonna tell you the plan for tomorrow, and then I will execute the plan if what I’m gonna do is acceptable. Tomorrow, I’ll go to Gawain to give him my resign paper, and he will agree to that, and then I’ll quit. I’ll stop being an Auror.” Harry gapes at him.

“Wha –why?” Draco only smiles and stands, wincing a bit as his wounds are not quite healed yet. Harry immediately closes their distance, steadying Draco by holding his elbows.

“Because what I’m gonna do will break at least 16 rules inside the Department if I don’t quit.” With that Draco’s hands find their home on Harry’s cheeks, trapping his face before leaning in. It’s a quite mind blowing kiss in Harry’s opinion because the lips that touch his are gentle –patiently coaxing him to turn back the kiss, but the force behind the kiss is overwhelming –passion, desperation, something very strong that makes his stomach churns with need. Passion mixed with a little bit of desperation leave Harry’s lips tingling as the soft lips abandon his lips, but Harry is not ready for it to leave. He just needs to keep kissing Draco Malfoy.

Draco is ready to admit defeat as Harry’s lips don’t move to kiss him back, but something happens because suddenly Harry’s arms are circling his waist, pulling Draco flush to his firm chest, and trapping him there. Soft, firm lips then catch Draco’s, claiming them as Potter’s. With that, Draco abandons his common sense and let himself melt inside the kiss, his knees liquefies as the taste of Harry spreads between his lips and as the scent of Harry envelops his being. Harry tasted like citrus, and mint, and coffee –something that makes Draco’s tongue slips inside Harry’s mouth as he can’t get enough of the heady flavor. When he finally pulls back, Harry’s lips are red and wet, begging for him to take another taste of it. Harry’s eyes are dazed as he looks at Draco with intensity.

“You want to quit your job for me?!” Harry asks incredulously when it seems like his brain has attached itself inside his head. “No, Draco! You can’t just quit your job for this!” Draco scoffs indignantly.

“Oh pull your head out of your ass, Potter. I quit because I have enough of being an Auror. I have finished my degree on Potions, I want to master in potions. But, yeah, if I can have you along the way, why not? I mean you’re not half bad in the eyes.” Draco grins in a playful manner. “And seriously who doesn’t want to have a hero as his boyfriend, but, you know I could just quit and leave you behind.” Draco shrugs, “Won’t be a problem.”

“You little shit.” Harry grins. “Fine, it’s better that I don’t have to lose my sanity every time someone hurt you.” Draco’s smile has turned slightly smug at that.

“Tell me what you want, Potter.” Draco says as his lips almost touch Harry’s again, half lidded eyes stare at Harry’s green orbs with want. Harry can feel Draco’s breath on his cupid bow, teasing, wanting, waiting for an answer.

“I want you to quit.” Harry says shakily as Draco’s tongue licks a small part of his upper lips.

“And?” Harry almost moans as Draco’s teeth graze his bottom lips gently.

“Let me be yours.” And Harry finally can breathe because once again Draco Malfoy envelops him inside a kiss that sweeps the ground out of his feet.

#drarry #drabble #shitty drabble #i'm sorry this is so bad #i swear i'll make something better #but my chaotic emotions is messing with my writings #i hate when that happen #hope this is acceptable #forgive me for the shitty cliche #draco malfoy #harry potter #ginafics

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