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aeneaans · 9 months

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that fated day

synopsis: after a tiring day, you and diluc decide to watch a meteor shower together

word count: 1,323

c/w: none !!!

note: hi !! this is my first time posting on tumblr >_< please enjoy !! i dont post super often but yeah :3

There wasn’t a single cloud in sight that night, the stars littered the vast ocean in its reflection. “Hey, do you believe in wishing upon a star?” You asked as the two of you returned to Mondstadt after taking down a few Fatui camps together in the evening. Diluc lowers his head slightly and ponders his response. His steps across the ground are soft, yet they still hold a sense of authority to them. It’s quiet. Crickets chirp in the warm summer breeze, the sky turning dark at last. Mondstadt has mostly fallen asleep by now–the city that’s filled to the brim at the brink of dawn has not a flicker of light in sight. The windmills continue to spin, as does the wind blow, and the summer dew trickles from the petals of the Cecilias.

“I’ve never thought about things like that. I suppose I don’t.” Diluc responds after a few seconds of thought. “Why the sudden question?”

Right before you set out on your adventure with Diluc, Mona happened to be at the main gate. As it turns out, she briefly informs you that there’s a meteor shower tonight. It was Mona you’re talking about, so of course you’d trust her words.

“I heard there’s a meteor shower tonight,” You explain. “It reminded me of when my parents gave me mora to toss in the fountain in exchange for a wish, I guess.” And to that statement, Diluc’s lips faintly tugged upwards. You reminisce back to when you were just a small child, when Mondstadt seemed so much more peaceful compared to now. The idea seemed rather childish now.

“Do you want to check it out?” He says, head facing the sky to look up to the stars. When he says that, your eyes light up accompanied by a bright smile.

“Well…it’s true that I haven’t seen one in a while. It wouldn’t hurt to check it out.” You say, trying not to sound overly-excited. You clutch your bag tightly, fiddling with the strap.

“We’re not too far from Cape Oath.” Diluc mentions so quickly that if you hadn’t been paying attention, you would have missed it. Nobody is out this late anyway, so it’d be a nice break from all the battling the two of you have been facing.

“Then let’s go to Cape Oath!” Suddenly, you realize the implications of the two of you going to Cape Oath—‘The Lovers’ Oath’—together.

After a few seconds, it hit you. “Ah,” You mumble under your breath. “Maybe we should just stay here to watch?” You turn back to him, desperately trying to avoid any misunderstandings and awkwardness. He looks at you and tilts his head innocently, seemingly confused as to why you’d change your mind so fast. He stares at you as you try to explain yourself without making it obvious you were a flustered mess. It doesn’t work very well, as your hands begin to fiddle with the strap of your bag once again. Your eyes dart around as words just seem to pour from your mouth, neverending.

After some more sputtering from your side, Diluc lets out a soft laugh. He clearly put two and two together in the time you tried, and failed, to explain yourself, understanding why you’d want to stay put instead.

“It’s okay,” He smiles at you and begins to walk towards Cape Oath, gesturing for you to follow. You quickly catch up to him, the grass crunching quietly beneath your feet. After several minutes of walking in silence, Diluc points out a light in the sky.

He seemed to frown, “It started already.” Diluc purses his lips, looking back at you. Though, it’s hard to tell when he’s actually frowning since his resting face always seems to be so…somber.

“Isn’t it good that it started so early?” You ask, curiously. You looked up at the sky, shards of space rock shooting down into Teyvat.

He stops in his tracks and turns to you. “You were quite excited to see this meteor shower.” He glances back to the sky, admiring it for a few seconds before looking toward Cape Oath. He seems to be lost in thought, brows somewhat furrowed and squinting toward your destination.

“We’re still seeing it, aren’t we?” You were never a believer in ‘special locations’ that much. Superstitions didn’t make sense to you. After all, is fate really real? What matters is that you live the life the way you want, right?

He stopped in his tracks, finally turning back to you. “You wanted to see it at Cape Oath, no?”

But he was right. Cape Oath was a scenic area, and it would definitely be a better view than in the middle of nowhere. Just imagine: The meteor shower filling the sky with dozens of warm tones as the color is reflected into the large body of water below the cliff as you’re surrounded by greenery.

“Well, yes. But it’s not much of a difference. Besides, you’re here with me and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” Diluc’s eyes widen for a second and look away from you.

“We can still make it if we run.” He mutters to himself. It was just the beginning of the show, it definitely hasn’t gotten to the best part yet. As the shower continues, you grab his arm out of sheer impulse.

“Then…let’s go.” You weren’t exactly sure why you did what you did, but you did it. You dashed across the grassy plains, feeling the grass crunch beneath your feet. You felt Diluc being pulled along with you before he finally managed to balance himself again, running with you. You felt the wind brushing past your face with each step you took, covering a large distance in a short time. You felt your breath getting irregular and your throat felt dry, but you didn’t stop.

Your eyes weren’t focused on the meteor shower anymore, just on your destination—Cape Oath. You looked back at Diluc occasionally, the two of you rushing toward the cliff with no words exchanged. Perhaps it was to save some breath, or perhaps it was the fact that there were no words left that needed to be said.

Luckily, the two of you weren’t that far from the cliff. It was only a few minutes of nonstop, high-speed running. But before the two of you know it, you've arrived at the cape. Panting from all the running, you immediately fall onto your knees, your legs were provided a somewhat soft yet rough landing by the vast field. A few dandelions surrounded your being, a few crushed under your leg. The broken stems left a trail of water dripping down your lower leg down to your ankle.

Still catching your breath, you finally speak. “You were right, Cape Oath really is a good spot for this stuff.” You lean back, your palms flat on the ground. Diluc gives a quick nod before sitting down again. His breathing is quiet, but he’s definitely panting. You find it a little silly as to how he would try to hide the simple fact that he’s tired. After all, anyone would be.

“Did you make a wish?” You break the silence again, catching Diluc off guard. Your gaze is stuck to the sky, the bursts of colors before your very eyes.

“Yeah,” As you were about to ask what it was, you remember your parents saying that the wish won’t come true if you say it out loud.

“Did you?” He asks, finally turning to look at you.

“I did, but I’m not telling you.” You turn to him as well, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Of course,” He closes his eyes for a split second before they flutter open once again just to take in the view. Together, just near the edge of the cape admiring the spectacle that nature staged for Mondstadt, there’s a comfortable silence that can't be broken between your pair.

#diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc fluff #genshin diluc #diluc x you #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #diluc ragnvindr

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 2 years

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A guide to Omega X

This is something I should have made way before this situation has gotten out, but it’s better late than never and I’m feeling a lot of things regarding this situation. So I’m making this to help people understand who Omega X is and hoping people find it helpful in supporting them through this hard time.

At the end of this post I will be speaking a little bit about the current situation, but first I want to put these wonderfull boys in the spotlight.

This will be a long post but please bare with me.

This is Omega X

(from left to right, top row: Jaehan, Yechan, Taedong, Hyuk, Hwichan, Xen. Middle row: jehyun, Junghoon, Hangyeom. Bottom row: Sebin, Kevin)

Omega X is a boy group that debuted in 2021 with the song ‘Vamos’ under Spire Entertainment. This group might have a few familiar faces as they have all debuted once before under different groups (which are now inactive or disbanded) this makes Omega X their second chance to debut and be idols.

That being said, they are all incredibly motivated and strong willed. They refused to give up when others told them too. This makes them incredibly special.

Discography

Here are the groups title tracks and mv’s! Please have a listen and enjoy!

Vamos What’s Goin’ On Love Me Like Play Dumb

The members

Jaehan

Jaehan ( July 1, 1995) was recently appointed to be Omega X’s leader during their most recent comeback, which I believe says alot. He’s calm and collected, doesn’t seemingly get angry easily and loves his dongsaengs an immense amount. He has this lovely speaking voice, deep and full that transforms beautifully into a higher pitch when he sings. He also enjoys photography, having an instagram dedicated to taking pictures of his members and the places they travel. You can find that here. He also has the most adorable, charming smile that I absolutely adore. Jaehan also plays the base and was previously a member of the group Spectrum.

You can find Jaehan’s introduction trailer here

Hwichan

Hwichan ( April 18, 1996) is quite possibly one of the strangest members, in the best way. He always makes the members laugh and has such a unique energy. He always needs to get really close to the camera when he spots it which isn’t anything important but it’s a small thing I find endearing. He also seems incredibly sweet often seen taking care of his dongsaengs and making sure they are comfortable. Not to mention his lovely singing voice, he has a very comforting tone to his voice. Here you can listen to his lovely voice. Hwichan is also an incredibly skilled drummer, almost being placed in a band together with N.Flying’s Dongsung. Here you can see him play a cover of (G)i-dle’s Tomboy. Hwichan was previously a member of the group Limitless.

You can find Hwichan’s introduction trailer here

Sebin

Sebin (April 24, 1996) is teddy bear shaped. I’ve never seen someone so cuddly and gentle as him. Have this tiktok of him cuddling Junghoon. He’s big and tall and just loves love. He’s always there to hug people when they need it and smiling. He’s seems to have such a positive mindset. He went from being the maknae in his previous group to being the most doting hyung. On stage however he is so charismatic, whips out that stunning smile and the energy. He’s so hard to ignore on stage and commands such a presence. He sings his lines with amazing energy but really, his dancing is where it’s at. Here is a dance cover he did with member Taedong of Astro’s “Who” This boy is also such a foodie, I adore watching him eat. He just likes snacks okay!! Sebin was previously a member of Snuper.

You can find Sebin’s introduction trailer here

Hangyeom

Hangyeom (July 17, 1996) is so incredibly stunning but that doesn’t diminish how much talent he has. Being an incredibly talented producer and rapper, he often writes Omega X’s lyrics. He has a soundcloud you can check out here Hangyeom is so goofy too, this boy really just talks sometimes. He’s also forever the victim of teasing which is undoubtebly because of the things he says which is really funny. He also has undying love for his dog Chorong and frequently goes live with her. In his vlog here you can see how sweet he is with Chorong. He has big himbo vibes in the best way possible and is so sweet to the fans. He was previously the leader of 7 o’clock.

You can find his introduction trailer here

Taedong

Taedong (November 7, 1997) is definition of looks scary, is a cinnamon roll. His voice when he raps is absolutely amazing, it has so much texture. I can’t quite explain it. However he also has a lovely singing voice, which is much softer. You can hear that here He’s quite a soft person and from what I can tell he takes joy in comforting others and looking after others. Taedong is an absolute phenomonal dancer as well. Being able to freestyle and choreograph very well (he also does a great girl group dance cover) Here you can see a choreography he performed. He adores being surrounded by his members and it’s very clear in the way he acts in their lives and vlogs. Taedong was previously a member of Gidongdae.

You can see Taedong’s introduction teaser here

Xen/Jinwoo:

This is personal but to me, Jinwoo (February 20, 1998) is just so absolutely beautiful. He’s so stunning and has this classic R&B vibe. He seems so relaxed and adds this beautiful sensual energy to the group. He’s very passionate and has such a smooth singing voice, made for slow songs. Here are vlive clips where he serenades us beautifully. He’s also inseperable from Jehyun since they previously came from the same group and they are just adorable together. Here is a vlive of them being cute He also has a few tattoos which isn’t really important but I always find it notable when idols have tattoos, maybe some of you all will feel the same. Jinwoo was previously in the group 1Team.

You can find Xen’s introduction video here

Jehyun

Jehyun (April 20, 1999) is another beautiful man. With stunning sharp eyes and a cat like grin, he has this mysterious beauty to him. He’s quite quiet, yet incredibly mindfull of other. You can tell in videos that he’s observing everyone, he’s also getting ready to tease whoever for whatever reason. He’s quiet yet playfull. He has the most endearing laugh as well. Here is a beautiful compilation of that. Jehyun is another one of those members who looks quite intimidating but the second he laughs it’s over. He really likes fashion and clothing as well, he frequently posts ootd pictures on the groups sns. He was previously member of 1Team.

You can find Jehyun’s introduction teaser here

Kevin/Jinwoo (yes there are 2 Jinwoo’s that’s why they have stage names)

Jinwoo (January 12, 2000) is undoubtedly the cutest member. He constantly has the other’s doting over him and he really seems to glow with the attention. I find it precious. Have this video of him legitimately doing nothing and being cute That being said Jinwoo has a serious side and it definitely comes out on stage, his cute appearance doesn’t stop him from having an impeccable stage presence and amazing deep toned voice. You can see both in this fancam. Jinwoo has such a great presence in the group, always seeming to be there when someone is in need, whether it’s Hangyeom needing someone to laugh or Sebin needing someone to hug. Jinwoo was previously a member of ENOi.

You can see Kevin’s introduction trailer here

Junghoon

Junghoon (February 14th, 2000) is hands down one of the most charismatic idols out there. He has this boy next door energy and is simply just a cool guy while remaining so sweet. He also just loves food, almost every vlive he’s done has involved food. Here you can watch one where he eats Korean corn dogs. Junghoon is also insanely talented at dancing, it’s crazy. In Omega X’s choreographies he moves like water, especially in ‘Love me like’. He’s just so fluid and I find him grabbing my attention alot for the way he moves. Here you can watch him dance He also often goes live with Hangyeom where they do dance covers. He is also basically the owner of the group’s tiktok account. Junghoon was previously in ENOi.

You can find Junghoon’s introduction video here

Hyuk

Hyuk (March 15, 2000) don’t let his sweet looks fool you, this man is an absolute bombshell. Hyuk likes to torture us, posting work out videos and dancing around on stage in mesh shirts etc. But he works incredibly hard for his body and takes great pride in it (as he should) In this vlog you can watch him work out Hyuk is also a very skilled guitar player, often going live to play covers for us. Here he covers IVE’s Love Dive with electric guitar And on top of all that amazing talent he’s crazy sweet and kind. Always showing us a bright smile and being cheerfull for his other members. He’s also recently taken up acting and appears in ‘Bad Girlfriend’. Here is one of the trailers for that. He was previously in the group ENOi.

You can find his introduction trailer here

Yechan

Yechan (May 14, 2001) our sweet maknae who doesn’t act like a maknae at all. He always makes a conscious effort together with Jihoon to communicate with the fans in ENglish so that everybody can understand. He’s incredibly thoughtfull but also quite witty sometimes and isn’t scared to show his hyungs love. He is great at alternating between vocal and rap position. He’s also good at playing guitar. Which you can see in their special ‘Liar’ performance Like Hyuk, Yechan and leader Jaehan recently have been cast in the BL drama ‘A shoulder to cry on’ as the leads. You can find more information on that here. Yechan was previously a member of 1the9.

You can find Yechan’s introduction trailer here

Congratulations! You made it this far

Now it’s time to talk about some less fun business. The current situation with Omega X. (trigger warning: mental and physical abuse) This twitter thread does a good job of explaining the situation. But I will be adding some things.

Yesterday, SBS news released the video of the in twitter thread mentioned audio. Here is the video In which you can see the group’s CEO Kang Seohee, yelling at and eventually shoving group member Jaehan. This is not the first time, as more fans and people who have worked with the group through this tour have come out to tell their stories about what they witnessed.

Here is also the crappy company statement that was released

The group was supposed to fly back to Korea on the 23rd of October, however the company cancelled their flights while all the staff flew back home aside from their manager (i believe this was all the remaining staff with the boys, I’m not sure) Leaving the group essentially stranded in the U.S.

Now today (25 October) it was anounced that the group would be flying back to Korea after contacting their families for funds to do so. Meaning they had to fly back with their own money. Not only is this absurd, the company should never have cancelled the groups flight and they should never have been left in a foreign country like that. Especially given the situation, they should have been at home with their families.

As of today, this is all the updates there are on this situation. We have no idea what will happen to the group, company, ceo, etc however we do know that this is not right. Kpop fan or not, Omega X fan or not, this is not right. So please, continue to spread this information, continue to post about and talk about it because the company and their CEO cannot get away with this.

That aside

Please continue to show these beautiful boys love and support as they will most definitely be needing it the next coming days, weeks, etc for however long this will take. Remember to not only post about the situation but also send positive messages the group’s way, they deserve that.

Have these fun pictures of the boys for a serotonin boost.

Please show love and support to Omega X

#omega x #kpop #bts #txt #enhypen #stray kids #ateez #a.c.e #the boyz #ive #blackpink

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delimeful · 2 years

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let my mind reset (4)

warnings: dissociation episode, references to previous chapter's events, manipulation/gaslighting, antagonists disregarding personal boundaries, psychological manipulation, touch starvation, medical issues, i throw some funny little ocs in there because sanders sides only has like 8 characters

By the time they brought Virgil back, Roman had thoroughly burned himself out, leaving behind only crumbling charcoal husks of his previous fury and despair.

Virgil wasn’t conscious to comment on the emptiness that surely had to be visible in his posture. In fact, the Human didn’t so much as twitch when they dragged him back into the room and set him limply in his cell, the slow rise and fall of his chest the only thing distinguishing him from a corpse.

Wisps of worry and frustration formed at the edge of Roman’s mind, but he didn’t reach for them, instead choosing to remain centered in his distant, dazed headspace. It was fine that his scales had gone flat and defenseless. It was fine that he couldn’t seem to feel his limbs.

He didn’t want to feel, not the cold cell floor beneath him or the concern for his fellow captive or the huge, overwhelming sea of grief that lurked at the edge of his consciousness, waiting to pull him back under.

It was all too much. He couldn’t do it.

Time passed like this for a while, Virgil curled up on the floor quiet and still, Roman staring at him without actually seeing him. Every time his mind began to clear, his physicality began to return, his thoughts only had to return to the true fate of his colony, of his mother, and he’d fade away again.

Unfortunately, it was more difficult to remain unfocused when the person he was staring through began to actually stir.

Roman had seen Virgil wake before. Not often, but there had been a few rare occasions where Patton coaxed him out into the commons of the ship and proceeded to fall asleep sprawled against his side, and pinned in place with nothing else to do, the Human had slipped into a doze as well.

(They all knew Patton was a heavy sleeper. Virgil could have carefully shifted him off and left at any point. How telling it was in hindsight, that he instead sat there, as though the mere presence of a small, fluffy friend leaning on him was more than enough to keep him immobile. How could Roman have been so dull-witted, so unyielding–)

The moment he or Logan stepped into the room, however, no matter how quiet their steps were, the Human would wake. His head would snap up with a sharp inhale, eyes roving until they found him, his gaze just the slightest bit wild before he remembered where he was. Roman had thought it downright creepy to witness.

(He remembered Patton telling them about how Virgil had kept him safe through an array of ship ports and wild terrain, jumping from planet to planet, never settling in one place long for fear of being caught again. Every moment of rest would have been a risk, a chance for someone to approach with malintent.

Had Virgil always been a light sleeper, or had necessity made him into one?)

Now, however, his cellmate woke slowly, with a low groan and seemingly none of that frenetic need to check his surroundings. It was almost as though he was weighed down by something, a strange slowness to his movements.

Roman was coming back from that faraway nothingness now, despite himself, despite everything, because it wasn’t just him. ‘It wouldn’t be the first Human I’ve been forced to put down,’ she’d said. Because she’d called Virgil an ‘it’, saw him as a pet, a tool, a means to an end. Because she had a way to strip the will of one of the most feared species in the universe, and overlay it with her own.

Virgil needed to know what Roman had gotten him into.

He forced himself to focus, trying to drag his attention to all the little details around him the way he’d been taught. There weren’t a surplus of options he could use. Not the cell, not his scales, nothing that would drag him back down into that bottomless desolation.

Virgil. Virgil looked different.

He looked cleaner, the dirt and grime of being shuttled through the black market’s trafficking system all washed away. His clothes had been changed from one of the makeshift & patched together outfits he wore on the Mindscape to a well-fitted set of Human clothes, with near-invisible seams and expensive-looking fabric. Most notably, there was a thick layer of bandages wrapped around the lower part of one arm, presumably from the procedure.

(At least their non-consensual mystery surgeries came with clean bandages. Still, Roman couldn’t help but notice that none of the other injuries that Virgil had gained during his ill-fated rescue attempt had been treated.)

“Virgil,” Roman mouthed silently, sorely wishing he’d told the Human anything about Crav’on sign language. With his ears flicking back flat, he forced his voice into existence, ignoring the fact that pushing himself into being verbal would only mentally tax him more in the long run. “Virgil. Virgil. Can you hear me?”

Virgil lifted his head up after a short delay, but his eyes were hazy and dull, his face slack in a way Roman had never seen before. It took him several long moments to focus on Roman, and once he did, his face flickered into one of those odd human expressions Roman couldn’t quite parse.

He could parse the way the Human’s body stiffened up, the way he shoved himself backwards until his back hit the bars, the way his strange legs drew up to act as a shield between himself and the rest of the world.

It was the same thing he’d done back on the ship, shortly after being in the throes of some terrible dream. A fear response, a show of terror.

One that surfaced at the mere sight of Roman.

“Easy,” he said, voice still dragging on softer consonants, putting stress on the wrong parts of words. “I’m not going to hurt you. Can… can you understand me?”

Virgil continued to hold himself in that terrible stillness, gaze flickering from point to point on Roman’s face. For the first time, it struck him that the Human probably had just as difficult a time reading his body language as Roman did his.

He smoothed his scales out from their prickle of alarm, angled his ears back but not flattened, and tilted his head up slightly, angling his crown of horns back. The motions were all Crav’on, broadcasting not a threat at every level.

After only a moment of hesitation, he lowered himself slowly onto the ground, hunching over and holding his hands in front of him, palms up.

These weren’t Crav’on. These motions were alien, uncomfortable in nature, nothing he would be soothed by. Crouching was a precursor to lunging or sprinting, his palms should be down, claws pointed away and tucked in.

But Virgil was blinking now, eyebrows drawing together slightly, a relief to see in place of that frozen, wide-eyed stare. His shoulders, which had drawn up like a pale facsimile of defensive scale bristling, slowly eased back down.

“I won’t hurt you,” Roman repeated, and then again in Patton’s warbling home tongue.

Virgil jolted at the sound of it, but it didn’t drag him any further into coherency. Rather the opposite, his head abruptly began to turn this way and that, his hands reaching as though searching out something that should have been in the corner of the enclosure.

Roman abruptly remembered the last time Virgil had been drugged in an alien cell, and more importantly, who he’d been with.

He leaned forwards, trying to draw the Human’s attention back from the search, which was growing frantic. “He’s not here,” he said, and whistled Patton’s name-call. “He’s safe, though. You made sure he was safe, okay?”

Virgil asked something, the words slanted and guttural in what was either his own language or an attempt at Common that was too mangled to parse. Roman dipped his head in a Human-style affirmative, hoping that it was the right answer.

It must have been, or at least it wasn’t the wrong one, because the Human only dragged his hands up to his face and pressed his too-wide palms against his eyes for a long moment, saying something else in a low voice that wobbled, the noise pitiful enough to make Roman feel all tangled up inside.

“It’s going to be alright,” he tried, an echo of Patton’s cadence in the words. He huffed nervously before trying the one Human word he sort of remembered, one oft-repeated between Virgil and Patton like a murmured promise. “Safe. Safe.”

One white-edged eye peered through the curtain of fingers clasped over Virgil’s face, careful and assessing, before he slowly breathed out. “Safe,” he said back, not a question, but not really reassured, either.

He nodded a couple of times, head bobbing like a seabird’s, and then shifted to curl back up so tightly that Roman could finally see how he’d shoved all those gangly limbs into such small hiding spaces.

A brief moment later, and he was still again, asleep or unconscious or somewhere in between.

Roman couldn’t be too surprised; whatever had been used to drug the Human, it must have been extremely potent to cause this level of incoherency. Logan believed sleeping was a particularly vital recovery method for Humans, and Virgil would need all the recovery he could get.

“Safe,” Roman mouthed to himself again, and wished that it wasn’t a lie.

—

Virgil didn’t get to wake again— this time, he was woken.

Roman’s voice had gone again, so he couldn’t speak when Roux reappeared, this time with several Humans crowded behind him. A mixture of terror and fury fueling him, he pulled out every physical threat display he could think of, attempting to draw their eyes away from his vulnerable crewmate, but didn’t earn a single glance for his troubles.

Instead, he was forced to stand aside and watch as Roux rapped a metal rod harshly against the cell bars, the clanging noise enough to jerk Virgil awake and probably give him a headache as well.

Despite everything, Roman felt almost reassured by the resulting groan and swear. Virgil was obviously still suffering the effects of whatever they’d dosed him with, but this was leagues better than the tremulous, barely-there demeanor from before.

“Rise and shine,” Roux announced nonsensically. (Humans couldn’t glow. Roman would have noticed by now. Probably.)

“Bite me,” Virgil snapped back, an invitation that would be lethal for practically any other alien. Roman immediately lowered his previous estimation of how much the drugs had worn off.

Roux laughed, the sound nothing like Virgil’s barely-there chuckles or snorts. “Aw, did someone wake up on the wrong side of the prison cell? Poor thing.”

Their mocking cadence set Roman’s hackles on edge, but one of the other Humans cut in before any snippy responses could be offered.

“Enough, already. You’ve done your part,” the Human said firmly. “It’s time for us to do ours.”

Roux rolled their eyes but pulled the door to Virgil’s cell open with a sarcastic flourish, allowing the four new Humans to crowd inside, pulling a small cart with them. “Back in an hour,” they said, and then locked the cell once more before striding away.

Leaving Virgil locked in a cell with four other Humans.

The anticipatory horror settled on Roman like too-heavy armor, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. Virgil seemed to feel the same way, shoving himself back into the far corner of the cell and struggling to get his feet underneath him, teeth bared in a back-off snarl. (Patton was right. This close, the expression looked nothing like a Human smile.)

Roman shuffled closer to the bars separating them despite his screaming instincts, hoping he could reach out and claw at one of them once they started attacking, draw their attention onto a more suitable target.

“None of that, now,” the first Human told Virgil, utterly unperturbed by his threat display. Their hair was wispy and grey, with firm lines pressed into their face. “This isn’t an attack. Quite the opposite.”

“You’re in no shape to be fighting anyhow,” the second Human piped up, stepping forwards into Virgil’s space and grabbing onto his wrists. “I bet you can barely feel your face, huh?”

“Back off,” Virgil demanded, but his attempts to yank his wrists free were clumsy and futile, and only served to prove their point. Even that small effort left him visibly shaking.

“Tanner,” the first Human snapped, and the second Human’s hold on Virgil snapped away automatically. “The poor thing’s been terrified enough.”

“Sorry, Matron Carmela,” ‘Tanner’ replied, a well-recited tone to the words. “We’re gonna have to touch him eventually, though.”

“Leave me the hell alone,” Virgil spat, his wrists drawn close against his chest. The brief hold hadn’t seemed painful, but it had drawn up something extremely unsettled in Virgil’s demeanor.

“Oh, honey,” the third Human said, a cloying pity to their words. “It’ll be alright. We’re here to help you.”

Virgil didn’t respond, only glaring, but that seemed to be enough expression for the others to read plenty from.

“Everyone takes a little convincing at first,” Matron Carmela said matter-of-factly. “Afina, hold onto him, please.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Virgil went rigid, but even with this blatant warning, he wasn’t quick enough to prevent the third Human from ducking behind him and sweeping him up into their grip. Whatever they’d drugged him with had eliminated all of his usual strength and speed, his writhing struggles easily contained by an arm around his shoulders and another looped over the bend of his legs.

Afina patiently waited for his resistance to die down before settling into a seated position on the floor, casual as anything even as they continued to restrain him. Tanner grabbed something from the cart before bounding back over to crouch beside them, reaching one hand out to Virgil’s face with… a small white rectangle?

Virgil seemed just as bewildered as Roman felt, his face scrunching up as the other Human carefully pressed the soft pack against the more swollen side of his face.

It was a temp pack. To reduce swelling. Why?

“What a nasty bruise.” Matron Carmela clicked her tongue. “Honestly, Roux should know better. Making more work for us.”

“Those guards really have no tact, treating you so harshly when you’re one of our own,” Afina said with a frown.

Virgil opened his mouth, presumably to object to being one of theirs when they’d literally imprisoned him, but was immediately distracted by Matron Carmela moving forwards and grabbing one of his hands, pinning his fingertip against the nozzle of a device.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little prick,” Afina reassured, completely misinterpreting the way Virgil had stiffened. “Like a glucose meter, but for checking a bunch of different things! Can you even believe all the crazy space tech they’ve got out here?”

“It took some fiddling to recalibrate it for Humans,” Tanner added, still holding the temp pack steady. “Super useful now, though.”

Matron Carmela pulled the meter back, studying the screen for a long moment, her displeasure growing. Tanner snaked his free hand into Virgil’s, replacing the presence of the meter with interlaced fingers.

Strangely, Virgil didn’t pull away.

“As I thought. We’ll need to get you on a nutrition plan immediately,” Matron Carmela said, and began jotting down notes in a looping scrawl as she spoke. “Severe vitamin deficiencies, pernicious anemia, clear malnutrition— we’ll have to be careful to avoid refeeding syndrome. A bone density test is in order, I wouldn’t be surprised if—”

“What are you talking about?” Virgil cut in, his voice equal parts angry and incredulous.

“We’re in charge of medical treatment for new arrivals,” Afina provided helpfully. “It’s hard to get what we need while being space fugitives, so most new folks need special diets for a while! No need to be ashamed!”

Tanner nodded. “That’s just what happens when you’re an interstellar fugitive surviving in the wilderness of foreign planets.”

“Of course, not all of us end up in that situation,” Matron Carmela said. “However, even amongst civilization, the needs of humans are rarely met. For cases like yours, they’re outright neglected.”

For the first time, her gaze shifted over to Roman, frown deepening and eyes going icy. He recoiled slightly with a reflexive bristling of scales.

“It’s monstrous, the way aliens treat us,” Afina added mournfully, curling in closer to Virgil. “All you did was exist, and they starved you of everything you needed to thrive. It must have been so hard.”

“You’re here now,” Tanner added, scooting forwards a bit so that his arm curled around Virgil’s shoulder. “We protect each other here. We’ll make sure you never feel so weak again.”

Virgil stared at him for a moment, and then his gaze trailed down to their joined hands, and when he looked back up it was Roman’s eyes that he met, a hint of that wide-eyed terror visible at the edge of his expression.

He looked away again before Roman could respond, swallowing thickly before speaking again. “Who’s that?”

Roman followed the tilt of his head to the fourth and final Human, who stood stiltedly near the entrance to the cell, arms crossed tightly in front of their chest. They’d been so quiet, he’d barely registered their presence amid the shrieking wrongness of watching Virgil be manhandled by a bunch of strange Humans.

“That’s Iris!” Afina said, smiling. “She’s—,”

“She’s a trainee,” Matron Carmela cut in. “Don’t mind her, she’s still learning her bedside manner. Now, the first priority for your recovery…,”

The other two Humans obligingly returned their attention to her words, but Roman caught the way Virgil and the newly-introduced Iris held eye contact for a long moment.

Virgil’s gaze flickered between her and the cell door, some silent question in them. There was a brief pause, and then he watched as Iris’s mouth pressed into a flat line, her chin dimpling slightly before she averted her eyes entirely and turned away to rifle through the cart. Virgil’s expression twitched the slightest amount before smoothing back to a flat scowl.

The ‘appointment’ continued on like that, Roman’s nerves rising with every barbed statement the Humans made about aliens and the mistreatment Virgil had clearly gone through at their hands, his worry growing with each gentle touch that Virgil didn’t shy away from.

He had reverted to a numb silence for the most part, only speaking up when Matron Carmela approached with a pair of scissors, flatly refusing to let them cut his hair.

There had been a taut stretch of silence, glances Roman couldn’t understand exchanged between them all, and then she had acquiesced without a fuss, placing the shears back on the cart and moving on.

By the time Roux returned to retrieve the attendants, Roman was huddled in his cell, having worked himself into a near-frenzy of stress. He barely even registered their amused jab at him, too busy watching as the Humans carefully untangled themselves from the knot they’d created around Virgil, leaving him sitting there on the cell floor.

A few discordantly cheery farewells later, they were alone again.

Roman’s voice had been all but intangible with the presence of other Humans in the area, but now the words seemed to fall from him so quickly they almost tripped over each other.

“Virgil, why were they talking like that? Like you have— Like you’re— Are you sick? You would tell us if you were sick, wouldn’t you? You said you’d been eating enough!”

Virgil shot him a strange look, shaking his head slightly. “I’m fine, Roman. That’s not what we need to w-worry about right now.” Even as he spoke, he was folding in on himself, arms coming up to wrap around himself in a mirror of Iris’s earlier posture.

He was trembling, Roman realized with a start, hard enough that his breathing was off, his words coming out slightly stuttered. He felt a sudden surge of panic. “Oh, stars, what did they do to you? Are you dying?”

Virgil’s laugh came out half-choked. “No. I’m alright, I just wasn’t e-expecting that.”

“‘That’?” Roman felt a sense of foreboding slide under his scales. “Virgil, please, you can’t believe what they say. There’s more going on here, this isn’t what you think—,”

“I don’t believe them,” Virgil interjected, and Roman felt a weight ease away. He hadn’t realized just how worried he’d been about the possibility until it was so swiftly struck down. “They tazed me. They d-drugged me. I’m in a cell. We’re obviously not cool.”

“Right, of course,” Roman said, attempting to scrape the remains of his composure from the ground. “Then, what’s wrong?”

“It’s— I’m—,” Virgil grimaced, curling in on himself further. His hands were digging into his sides, fingers curled in sharply. “Look, it’s not about what they’re saying, not yet. It’s about w-what they’re doing.”

“Lying to you?” Roman guessed halfheartedly.

“Holding me,” Virgil bit out, like the words were painful. “It’s just— touch is important to Humans, okay? It’s— It’s manipulation, they’re taking advantage of that. Trying t-to lower my guard.”

‘They crave connection,’ Marta had said. Roman shuddered, his scales giving a sharp rattle.

“… Is it… going to work?” he asked, still entirely uncertain on how Humans worked, what they really needed.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Virgil replied, which wasn’t a real answer. “It doesn’t matter, I just– it's just been a while, that’s all.”

He was still trembling, shudders working their way through him one after another, like aftershocks.

Roman felt a twisting in his gut at the sight. He might not have known about this, but the other Humans must have. They’d made a point to hold him, to crowd in close and press their hands to him in the guise of medical aid, to give him a taste of something he needed and then rip it away. They’d flipped him on his back, bared his weakness for the whole world to see.

“Come over here,” he requested, giving into the impulsive urge to try and fix it.

Virgil’s eyes flicked over to him, and his posture was distinctly wary, like a wild animal coaxed to the edge of a torch’s light. Bit by bit, he pulled himself back upright, edging forwards until he was in reach.

Forcing himself not to overthink it, Roman offered his hand in that strange, palm-up Human way.

Virgil hesitated, clear as day, his gaze once again flicking about, searching Roman’s face for something. Roman held still and waited, his hand never wavering.

Ultimately, he wasn’t sure Virgil found what he was looking for, but the Human reached out and set his hand in Roman’s anyway.

The thought came unbidden: Humans were strong. If Virgil wanted, he could probably crush the plates on Roman’s hand to dust.

Roman slowly folded his fingers around the soft, unarmored hand, trying to replicate the way the other Human had held it, and forced the idea out of his mind. Virgil had never tried to hurt him before; why would he abruptly decide to crush his hand now?

“What are we doing?” Virgil asked in a low voice, his hand twitching nervously.

Roman’s tail thumped against the floor in embarrassment, and he let his nose wrinkle in irritation before sighing and lowering himself to sit against the corner of the cell.

“You need touch, right?” he grumbled, pointedly pressing as much of his side as he could against the bars, scales slicked down. “Or… does it only work if it's other Humans?”

Virgil stared at him long enough that he began to prickle, and then his fingers curled slightly around Roman’s. “No, this– it should work. I think.”

He slowly lowered himself into a seated position as well, scooting closer when Roman tugged meaningfully on his hand. This close, he could feel the warmth that the Human radiated, chasing away the chill of the cell bars.

They were both tense at first, but as time went on and Roman remained quiet and still, Virgil almost seemed to melt, the stiffness slowly leaking out of him as his shoulders slumped and his head tilted to the side. He’d witnessed it before, when Patton was curled against him and chattering away and neither of them knew Roman was watching the security vidfeed, but he’d never thought it would happen in close proximity to him.

Still, there Virgil sat, slowly letting his body relax from the battle-ready tension that he wore like a second skin. Making himself vulnerable, showing his soft side, even though Roman was right there in striking distance. Even though all Roman had ever done was despise him.

It was a show of trust. Even after all he had done, Virgil wanted to trust him.

Roman held on long after the trembling eased, long after Virgil’s laxness turned to the limpness of sleep, as though if he clung on long enough, he could make up for the time that Virgil had spent without this.

As though he could convey through the careful holding of a hand in his that he wanted to trust Virgil, too.

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts roman #space au #humans are deathworlders #wibar #lmmr #let my mind reset #writing #my writing #sorry for the delay in posting a personal issue happened #wish those would stop happening to me. please #anyways enjoy the implications of this chapter <3

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iwanthermidnightz · 2 months

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Not only did Lana Del Rey start her Coachella headlining set early, but her entry was epic.

On Friday, April 12, at 11:16 p.m. the festival main stage screens showed an aerial view of Del Rey and her entourage rapidly approaching. As she neared, it became clear her crew was not rolling up on the expected golf carts that often shuttle stars around the Indio, Calif. fest, but rather motorcycles. And as a snippet of her never-to-be-officially-released song “Jealous Girl” played – with the lyric “Baby, I’m a gangster too” on loop – Del Rey’s motorcade took a lap through the crowd as she smiled and waved to the thousands of fans gathered for this very moment.

“What’s up, Coachella,” she asked casually, after making her way to center stage and offering a small smile before performing “Without You” into a fusion of Sublime’s “Doin’ Time” with “Summertime Sadness.” “I’m so happy to be here,” she added with another faint, and even briefer, smile. But keep in mind, this is Lana Del Rey – sad girl pop president and eternally committed to the bit, whether she’s headlining Coachella or not.

As such, her demeanor matched the elaborate set design that looked much like a dilapidated version of the Gatsby Mansion long after it had thrown its last party. Making it, of course, the perfect imaginary scene for Del Rey to host a late-night shindig of her own complete with a swing band and roaring 20s-inspired backup dancers.

Early into the set, Del Rey noted that she last played Coachella “exactly 10 years ago to the day” (during which she debuted single “West Coast”), before softly speak-singing, “We’re still doing it.” Yet, it’s not the fact that she is still here a decade in that’s impressive, but more so that she is still entirely and unapologetically herself after so many years – or at least, that the persona of Lana Del Rey is still so intact. In fact, across her nine studio albums, Del Rey has seemingly become even more herself, taking bigger experimental swings and offering longer, more eyebrow-raising track titles along the way.

And tonight, her headlining set seemed to be a quiet celebration of such, during which Del Rey sauntered across the stage performing career-spanning hits that, in a festival setting like Coachella, felt almost like underground gems that she was carefully unearthing. Even the expected “headliner stunts” were delivered with a delicate touch: She performed “Ride” while slowly spinning from within a circular, leaf-covered swing; delivered a gorgeous a cappella rendition of “The Grants” alongside her trio of backup singers; and, most notably of all, sang “Hope Is a Dangerous Thing for a Woman Like Me to Have – but I Have It” via hologram accompanied by collaborator and close friend Jack Antonoff on piano, who co-produced the track. (Earlier in the night, she was joined by Jon Batiste on piano for an extended version of “Candy Necklace.”)

The hologram – though a bit morbid, especially considering the lyric, “Hello, it’s the most famous woman you know on the iPad/Calling from beyond the grave” – perfectly punctuated the spirit of the set. As evidenced by her closing song selection of “Young and Beautiful” (which was prominently used in The Great Gatsby), it became increasingly clear that Del Rey had come to make a statement.

As she sings on “Young and Beautiful: “I’ve seen the world, done it all, had my cake now. I’ve seen the world, lit it up as my stage now.” All the while, the song’s primary question loomed: “Will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful?”

Earlier in the night, Billie Eilish delivered an affirmative answer.

Following online rumors that the superstar would be making a guest appearance during Del Rey’s set (an artist Eilish has long been a fan of), she appeared toward its end atop the arched trellis to duet on “Ocean Eyes” and “Video Games” with Del Rey. After the two were done, they sat a moment longer, seeming genuinely stunned by one another’s presence. “Get the f–k out of my face,” laughed Eilish, speaking to her hero.

“Yep, that’s the voice of your generation, the voice of our generation,” replied Del Rey. “I”m so f—ing grateful she’s standing next to me right now.” To which Eilish replied: “This is the reason for half you b—-es existence, including mine.”

That simple sentence cut to the core of the evening. Sure, the set was spotty at parts – with moments of darkness and silence in between many songs and a handful of issues with mic volume, all of which Del Rey audibly called out. And yes, Del Rey’s soft-spoken tendencies on and off stage may have not made her the most obvious headlining act to kick-off Coachella. But it’s her impact that remains undeniable.

But don’t take my word for it, take it from “the voice of our generation.” The artist who we may not have had it not been for an artist like Lana Del Rey doing what she has and will always do best: being Lana Del Rey.

As she delivered the final note of “Young and Beautiful,” the band picked up steam and her dancers reappeared with champagne bottles in hand as fireworks exploded into the night sky – all the makings of a signature Gatsby blowout. And as Del Rey rode off on motorcycle, just as she came in, the party on stage continued long after she was gone. And that’s the point.

Her undeniable impact is also unforgettable – and exactly what makes Lana Del Rey the icon she is. And one well worth the celebration.

#lana del rey #love this article they get it #and screw the guardian for their review lol

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morvantmortuary · 11 months

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morvant mortuary x the boy au - prologue

don’t mind me, just posting a snippet here to give me motivation to finish my damn diss chapter and get it sent off tomorrow so I can go back to working on this thing I’ve been fiddling with all summer

Even the realtor had seemed hesitant to show you the old funeral home on the edge of town, despite both the fact that it had been for sale for years now, and that she, like you, was just starting out in her line of work. In fact, just as you were looking to start your own business, it appeared you were slated to be her first real potential buyer.

Beverly was a bubbly blonde in all pink, grasping your extended hand with both of her perfectly manicured ones like you were long-estranged family when you’d introduced yourself to her that morning.

“Oh, call me Bev, everyone does,” she’d said brightly, with only a hint of how often she must’ve practiced this studied casualness in the mirror every day.

Despite the fact that there couldn’t have been more than five years between the two of you, something about her in her small town Main Street office felt… older. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that she was wearing a vintage suit set of a matching blazer and skirt (a clever reproduction or a cherished hand-me-down, you weren’t sure), or the way her hair was stiff with mousse in a way that reminded you of your teachers in mortuary school. Standing in front of her, you got the vaguest impression that her concept of becoming a working professional was either heavily inspired by her mother’s standards, or 9 to 5. (Which you admitted was a masterpiece, but still.)

…And yet, as badly as she must have needed this, it was as though whatever money she stood to make from the sale, or the triumph over a seemingly unsellable listing, didn’t make her any more eager for the drive out -- much less walking inside.

But if you were ever going to be able to afford opening your own funeral home, you had to save your money where you could — even if it meant gutting a building and refinishing everything yourself. Even if it meant living in and servicing a town like Greymoon, that hardly anyone had ever heard of unless they were born there.

But hey, this was the cheapest place you’d seen yet, and if the facilities were at all usable, it was that much less work for you in the long run.

Maybe you’d be able to afford that cherry red Frigid embalming machine after all… although you were trying not to get your hopes up yet.

You were determined to make this work, even when Bev had hemmed and hawed as soon as you said you wanted to see the property.

Or when, like a nervous lap dog, you couldn't get her to walk through the front door.

As you stared through into the foyer (still dark at high noon, you couldn’t help but note), she lingered hesitantly on the weathered porch out front (the wood surprisingly still solid, despite the number of years this place was supposed to be abandoned). When you stood waiting for her in the doorway, she clutched her binders like an antsy school girl, her perfectly coiffed hair and pink retro suit set suddenly looking like she’d filched her mother's clothes for a dress-up game.

"You go on and take your time, hon," Bev said at last, her smile as wide as she could make it. "I... just need to make a phone call. Holler if you have any questions, okay? I’ll be right out here.”

That maybe should have been a sign.

“Um.” You were trying very hard not to seem too thrown off by this. You’d researched this whole house-hunting thing thoroughly — read everything you could on the few web forums that hadn’t collapsed under mismanagement, asked what adult relatives you had that had actually bought property before how this was supposed to go. You had come here with a list in the back of your head, feeling on your guard and prepared for every eventually… except this one. “I was under the impression,” you demurred, choosing your words. “That a showing at a property this old would be a little less self-guided.”

“Oh, well,” Bev demurred back, waving her free hand. “It only looks that big from the outside, I promise. Once you’re in there it’s really quite cozy.” She laughed, a light little giggle that sounded like nothing. “I’d just get in your way, honestly. You’re really gonna want to see it for yourself.”

You looked over your shoulder at the foyer behind you, trying to seem nonchalant as you surveyed how the sunlight didn’t seem to reach all the way in. “Hasn’t this place been abandoned for, like… twenty years?”

“Oh, honey, not that long!” Bev faux-laughed again. “It’s been uninhabited for nineteen, true, but we had crews in to take care of cleaning and upkeep when the listing passed into our hands. It’s not fallin’ - ing apart or anything. You’ll be just fine, I promise. In fact — here.” She opened her binder, rustling through a stack of papers that she seemed to be carefully angling away from your view before she snapped it shut again, holding out a scan of the house blueprints. “See, everything’s right there in black and white!”

You stared at the page in your hands, feeling disoriented for a moment as you tried to make sense of the smeary printer ink lines in front of you. Once you got your bearings, however, one thing was clear. “…This is the wrong house,” you said at last.

Bev blinked, her smile not moving an inch. “Beg your pardon?”

“These are for a house with a basement.” You looked back up at her, holding the page half-heartedly back out so she could correct herself. This was not… going like you’d hoped. If she couldn’t be expected to show up with the right information — this didn’t bode well for your working relationship.

“This house does have a basement,” she said, nodding while her expression still never budged. You were beginning to wonder if it was practice or preventative botox.

The page drooped in your hand as you stared at her. “This house has a basement,” you repeated slowly. “In Louisiana? This close to the bayou?” Your eyes flicked over her shoulder to your car parked in the drive, wondering if you should just leave right now.

“I know!” She giggled, like it was just a kooky fun fact between pals. “It’s the damn- darnedest thing, isn’t it? But it was a functioning funeral home for - oh, it must’ve been decades, before the family… left. Longer than a lot of us can remember. We had professors from the local junior college in to look at it and everything — none of them could explain it, but they said it was sound as a rock! I told you,” she nodded like a bobblehead. “You really need to see it for yourself.” She gestured back to the scan again, hopeful. She couldn’t disguise the nervousness in the set of her teeth, and it gave you pause…

But still. When were you going to find another chance like this? In your price range (barely), and in this market? At your age?

“…Okay.” You turned slowly, plans in your hand, back to the waiting maw of the door. “I guess I’ll give it a look, then.”

“I’ll just be right here,” Bev repeated, the relief in her voice tangible. “You take all the time you need. Ask me anything when you get out. We’ll make it work!”

“…Sure,” you said without hearing yourself. It took you a long moment - for what, you weren’t sure - but continued your journey into the shadowy guts of the house.

Though you couldn’t see it, Bev, with the smile finally gone from her face, had the decency to watch your retreating form as the front door slowly swung shut behind you — without a touch from either of your hands.

Her eyes, as much as she didn’t want them to, swung upwards to the second story window.

For a minute, she was a freshman in college again, listening to the whispers of what had come to haunt this place. What had happened to everyone inside.

…When a shape seemed to move away from the yellowing linen curtains, just visible through the moth-eaten fabric, she jammed her hand into her purse, desperately digging for her cigarettes.

In the yard, the cicadas’ insistent whirring climaxed to a low roar: an echo of a long-dead gathered crowd, cheering as the House selected anew.

(with love as always to @fairyysoup and the sluts, who joked about this and then I took it seriously :’D)

#morvant mortuary #horror movie aus #the boy au #maxi morvant #maximilian vincent morvant #maxi morvant x reader #maxi morvant x you #slasher oc #necromancer oc #southern slasher oc #monsterkisser fics #genderqueer reader #non-binary reader #queer reader #plus size reader #no use of y/n

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yeowangies · 11 months

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Blood Stains

CHAPTER IX: A knife between the ribs

❧

PAIRING: Raditz/Reader RATING: Explicit CONTENTS: Canon Divergence AU, Slow burn, Smut, Enemies to Lovers. WARNINGS: Explicit sexual content. WORDCOUNT: 4815

Summary:

Under any other circumstances, Raditz would be hypervigilant by now. But his instincts are not telling him to be careful, or to have his defenses up.

Notes:

I think I'm gonna take a longer time to upload the next chapter, I wanna focus on other fics I wanna finish. I do have the intention of wrapping this up by the end of this month, or by early August. I hope you guys enjoy this!

You can check the tag #*bs if you wanna see the previous chapters.

Raditz notices you’ve been very secretive about some of the drawers in your room. You’re taking a shower, so he takes the opportunity to snoop around. He does it often, and he doesn’t even hide it when you’re there; some of the things humans have are just weird. Like all the makeup you own, or the underwear (though he doesn’t complain much about it, some of them are soft and lustrous and make him pop a boner in an instant when you wear them).

He doesn’t find anything that catches his attention, and when he sits by the bed and curiously tries to open one of the drawers of the nightstand, you walk in, wearing just a towel, running and putting yourself in between the table and his hand.

“What are you doing?!” You ask, blushing slightly.

“What do you have in there that you don’t want me to see?” Raditz looks at you with a frown.

“Nothing…”

“Then why can’t I open it?”

“It’s private!”

He has trusted you so far (miraculously when he knows you’ve been keeping things from him), but this is something he has to see for himself.

You move over when he stands up, seemingly letting it go. When he sees you going through your clothes to choose your outfit, he goes to the nightstand and opens the drawer, curiosity getting the better of him. There are some towels, a small bottle, and some trinkets lying around, but what catches his attention is a pink device made out of some kind of rubber. It’s soft to touch when he grabs it to examine it closely.

“What’s this?” Raditz asks, holding the gadget close to his face.

When you turn to see what he’s doing, you look mortified, turning beet red in an instant.

“Oh my God, put that back where it was!”

You stand in front of him, and try to grab it from his hand, but he holds it above his head.

“It smells like you.” He sniffs it, and watches with amusement as your face contorts in horror.

“Of course it smells like me, just put it back where you found it!”

The device has a few buttons at the base, and when he clicks on one of them, it starts to vibrate.

“Why does it vibrate? Is it a weapon?”

You’re still trying to reach for it, and Raditz grins the redder you become.

“You have to use your height against me, don’t you?! Just give it back!”

“Tell me what it is and I’ll give it to you.” He chuckles when he sees you clenching your fists. Your reactions always amuse him to no end, and this isn’t the exception. “I’ve never seen you react like this, you piqued my interest.”

“You jerk… Fine. It’s a vibrator.”

He frowns, clicking on the same button again to turn it off.

“It vibrates so it’s called a vibrator?”

“Yes.”

“What is it for?”

“It’s… a sex toy.”

“How does it work?”

“You turn it on and put it… where it feels nice.”

You’re still very red as Raditz inspects the toy again. Well, he understands why it’s shaped like that now.

“Why are you so embarrassed? I’ve never seen you react like that about anything sexual.”

“Well, most of the time I’m doing things willingly.” You’re glaring at him, with a little playfulness in your eyes even when you’re still offended. It makes his inside stir. “You took that from me without my consent.”

Raditz keeps the toy in his hand, looking it over. It’s too small, he guesses it’s not supposed to go inside you. It does vibrate, so maybe it’s for external stimulation.

“Can you give it back now?”

You’re still blushing, though not as much as before. He smirks, throwing the toy on the bed.

“Show me how you use it.”

Humans are very funny creatures.

Most customs are for leisure and entertainment. You had told him that everyone has to work to live, or else living conditions are atrocious (the same would apply in his case, he supposes). But you only work between four or eight hours a day, and the leftover hours of the day are for resting and free time. Since he’s staying at your place these days, you spend more time in bed with him than doing anything else.

It’s a pretty simple, boring life. But, to his own astonishment, Raditz is pleased this is the life you have.

He can’t say if this is a life that he’d like to have for long. But you make it entertaining enough. Up until that conversation you had the other day, he didn’t know how important you’ve become in his life when it occurred to him that you might be sleeping with someone else, or even when he thought that you might have slept with Kakarot. If that was part of your past, he wasn’t going to be pissed, but it would have made things strange, so he was glad that wasn’t the case. And thankfully, you were only sharing your bed with him at the moment, putting his mind at ease.

It’s a strange feeling Raditz has when he’s around you, and since it’s the first time in his life he feels like this, he’s not sure what to do about it, other than what he’s already doing. He plans on staying a few days, spending time with you (obviously fucking each other’s brains out) and then leave again to be by himself. He can’t train much on this planet with the gravity so low, and with no one around to even spar, but it’s better to train alone than not to train, though he can’t do that in your apartment. But it’s been a couple of days since he got there and he’s not ready to leave yet.

He’s getting used to sleeping by your side better now. He doesn’t jolt awake every time you move, and he can relax enough to go back to sleep when you get up in the morning to go to work. He has never loosened up this much before; with Vegeta and Nappa around, he couldn’t. They didn’t always mistreat him, but he got so used to it, he rarely even slept in peace. At least he could rest soundly now.

It’s not like this is the first time he sleeps with someone. It is the first time he repeatedly sleeps with the same person, however. Therein lies the difference, at least from his point of view. Most species out there are very aware of who he is, or what he is, and they don’t dare to approach him. And when he has the chance of fucking someone who doesn’t know he’s a Saiyan, it’s only pure unfiltered lust that fades away as soon as he reaches his peak. But you not only know who he is, even if you don’t really know him, and you still want him. Which is amusing, especially when he remembers how you told him how attractive he is to you months ago, soon after he had threatened to kill you. You’re the first one who is so willing, so alive and so enthusiastic about doing it with him, despite the very obvious fact that he’s a threat.

Under any other circumstances, Raditz would be hypervigilant by now. But his instincts are not telling him to be careful, or to have his defenses up. Hell, for all he knows, you know that his tail is a weakness. And the few times you could have grabbed it, you didn’t. Even during sex, you would caress it or stroke it to stimulate him, but not to hurt him. He isn’t sensing any danger, and while it confuses him, he’s going to embrace your presence more if it brings him some sense of peace, something he’s never actually had.

“That piece of clothing you had when we met, do you still have it?” Raditz asks, right after dinner one night.

“My bikini? Yeah, I have it, why?” You reply, putting away the clean dishes on the kitchen cabinet.

“I want to see you wearing it for me.” He smirks, standing up from the table and walking over to where you are.

“You want me to wear it now?” You turn to him as he stands, tall and imposing, in front of you.

He nods, playfully taking a strand of your hair and twirling it in his finger. You look at him for a few moments before smiling.

“Okay, but you gotta put on your boots and gloves too.”

“What for?” Raditz frowns, confused.

“Why don’t we reenact our first meeting?” When his brows remain furrowed, you explain. “Let’s pretend we meet again for the first time.”

He doesn’t fully get it, but he doesn’t try to because the minute he’s sitting on your bed, wearing his boots, gloves and trunks, and he sees you coming into the bedroom with that pink swimsuit, he’s instantly hard.

“I wish you still had your armor.” You comment, eying him over with a big smile.

“Are you not attracted to me this way?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“No, I am, but it just had a little extra something, you know?”

Raditz chuckles and waits for you to approach him, but you remain still.

“What are you doing? Come over. Or should I go get you?”

“I told you we were gonna reenact how we first met.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“You had to look at me like you did back then, and say something like what you said too.”

“I don’t remember how I looked at you. Even less what I said.” He rolls his eyes.

“You turned completely red and looked at me in awe.” You say, totally pleased with yourself, because you obviously do remember that moment.

Yeah, Raditz does remember too. He looked at you like he finally understood why Kakarot had remained on Earth all this time.

“You also said something about coming to destroy the Earth or something.”

“I was coming here to get Kakarot, not destroy this planet.” He corrects you, still very entertained by what you’re trying to do.

“I know, but let’s change it up a bit, since we don’t really talk about that whole situation.”

“Fine. So what do I say?” He sighs. He’s achingly hard, he wants you to do something about it already. “Can’t we just fuck already?”

“No, this is fun, I promise! Look, I thought it all over-”

“You thought it over? When?”

“Um… some time ago. Listen, just do something like what you did back then, and I’ll do something different.” You grin slyly. He really doesn’t need any more convincing.

Raditz watches you walk out of the bedroom and then walk in again. You’re asking him to act, but you’re not that great of an actress either; that mischievous grin is still on your face. It doesn’t matter, he can’t wait to bend you over and have his way with you in just a couple of minutes. He’s not trying too hard either, but he stares at you for a while longer, and his face heats up. You look truly gorgeous in that swimsuit.

When you make a gesture for him to speak, he clears his throat.

“Right… I’m here to destroy this planet.” He says flatly, making you roll your eyes at his lack of enthusiasm.

“We’ll work on your acting skills later.” You take a couple of steps closer, and Raditz focuses on your hips, swaying towards him. When you speak again, your tone is quiet and smooth. “Oh no, a powerful Saiyan, I wonder what’s gonna happen to our planet now.”

His cock throbs in his trunks when you lean down, putting your hands on his chest to make him sit back on his elbows.

“You can take me instead if you promise to leave this planet alone.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” He laughs, despite the fact that the way you’re talking is exciting him even more.

“Raditz, we’re playing, just go along with it!” You whisper harshly.

“Fine.” He tries to contain his laughter, and he speaks again. “If you come with me, I won’t hurt anybody.”

You crawl over him, straddling his hips, and he doesn’t know where to look because all of you look so enticing.

“I guess I have no choice.”

Your hands skim across his skin, from his shoulders down to his arms, and back towards his chest. Raditz recognizes the hunger in your eyes, fueling his own desire for you even more. He lets you do as you please, curious about what you’re planning, since this game has been your idea. Your fingers trail down his torso, over his abdomen, and his muscles tense, expecting you to slide your hands even lower and just touch him.

You lean down to kiss his lips, nice and slow, softly running your tongue over his, and he hums, getting lost in the sensation before you pull back to trail your lips down his neck. He groans when you lick and suck on the skin there, closing his eyes when you slide lower, pressing kisses on his chest and abs. His dick twitches excitedly inside his trunks when you kneel down in between his legs, and he gazes at you expectantly. Your eyes meet his as your hands run up and down his thighs, and your soft touch on his skin feels insanely nice, even when you aren’t directly touching him where he wants.

When one of your hands reaches for his crotch, stroking him through his clothes, Raditz grunts, moving into your touch the more you caress him. He’s on the verge of taking out his cock and demanding you do something about it, but luckily, you reach for the waistband of his trunks before he can even move. You lick at the skin above it, making his muscles flex, before you pull his clothes down enough to make his dick bounce free.

He watches you carefully when you take his length into your hand, stroking him lazily before running your tongue on the underside. You smile cheekily when he groans, and you don’t waste time wrapping your lips around it and sucking softly. He gasps, reaching for your head and threading his fingers in your hair. He doesn’t push you, but he knows you like the encouragement, and you hum happily around him as your lips slide down lower, taking more of him in.

There is something so thrilling about the way you bob your head up and down, moaning contently with his cock in your mouth, like you’re having the most fun putting him through immense pleasure. Raditz stares as you skilfully suck and lick on his impressive length, your hand pumping what you can’t get inside your mouth just yet. He groans and grunts, hips bucking ever so slightly every time you swirl your tongue. It doesn’t take long until the tip grazes the back of your throat, and the muscles in his abdomen tense with the approaching climax.

You’ve done it before, but it still startles him when you gently touch the skin where his tail and lower back meet. He lets out a guttural growl, thrusting into your mouth, making you gag, but you don’t even try to pull back. You suck and move faster over him, and he can’t last longer when you’re caressing his tail at the same time. He tenses when he comes with a loud groan, hips thrusting into your mouth as he spills his cum. He watches you swallow, like you always do, stroking his cock in your hand to help him ride out his peak, pulling out every last drop of cum out of him.

When you pull off him, licking your lips to clean every drop from your lips, Raditz gets a wave of affection and lust all at once. He feels like that the more he lays with you. As you crawl back over him, he smirks, not wasting any time to get where he wants to go as he hooks his arms underneath your legs and drags you upwards, making you straddle his head. It’s always a treat to find that you’re dripping wet after you suck him off.

He eats you out earnestly, like he always does, and he can’t decide if he likes having you come on his tongue better than spilling his cum inside your mouth. Both at the same time is the best solution, something you have taught him one of the days he stayed over.

The swimsuit miraculously survives the pounding Raditz gives you afterwards, and he’s glad; he wants to see you wearing it again some time in the future.

“I saved the Earth, didn’t I?” You ask him jokingly as you try to catch your breath.

“Yes.” He grins, kissing your neck, realizing that you’re talking about the game you have been playing before.

“It was surprisingly fun.” You add, meeting his lips in a lazy kiss.

It was. He really should have just taken you when he first saw you.

In retrospect, Raditz thinks he might not have enjoyed it as much if he had. He might be unsure about what he feels, having never felt anything quite like it, but he knows it has a lot to do with the conversations you two shared months prior before you started sleeping together. You took care of him, you flirted a lot, and he reciprocated it, but you also shared things that if he had been in your place he wouldn’t have shared. Though you had seen him in situations he wouldn’t have otherwise shown to you if he could have avoided it either, like his near death experience and his nightmare. Even when you touch his tail; he still doesn’t let you put your hands on it outside the bedroom but it’s just out of habit now, and you haven’t tried to touch it after the first few times he pushed your hand away. He doesn’t really understand; it’s a weakness for him, but you’re not even trying to hurt him.

The idea that you might be getting under his skin in some twisted attempt to make him weaker has occurred to him. Though it seems insane. And as much doubts as he has, there still aren’t any sirens going off in his head like it normally would if he was in a situation where he feels threatened. Quite the contrary, he feels completely at ease around you.

Maybe that has been a sign that he should have taken off for a while.

“I met Goku when I was around 15 or so?” You tell him one night after dinner, sharing some apples with him. Raditz has already eaten plenty, but he’s just being complacent since you’re sharing them with him. “He was fascinating, a little kid with a tail and incredible power? By the time he was 18, he had saved the world like five times. That’s why I can’t believe he actually died. Not directly because of you, but… kinda. I’m so used to Goku always saving the world that it was a shock.”

“It’s a shock to me that my brother has saved this planet when he came here to kill its inhabitants. He’s even passing off as a human now because he hit his head.” Raditz scoffs, annoyed. It still feels like an insult to their race, but he realizes that none of that bothers him as much anymore.

“Yeah, that too. You know, it makes sense that he’s an alien. I’ve seen him transform into that giant monkey form once and it was scary as hell.”

“We call that form Great Ape. Is that why there’s no moon?”

“There was one but… it was destroyed twice, can you believe it? Though I don’t know who destroyed it last time…”

“It’s a miracle you’re alive if you’ve seen him in his Great Ape form.”

“Yeah… I know he doesn’t understand reason when he transforms, but I want to think he wouldn’t have hurt us-”

“Whether you like it or not, he is a Saiyan.”

“So what, he’s naturally a killer?”

“He would have been if he hadn’t hit his head. We can get it out of him in no time.”

“We?” You ask with a frown.

Raditz realizes the minute those words left his mouth that he shouldn’t have said that at all. Why did he? It’s not like he even wants to be around Vegeta or Nappa anymore.

He hasn’t fully figured out what to do when they get here either.

“Are you…” You start quietly, after a minute of silence. “Do you like being here? With me?”

He frowns, perplexed. There’s something in your voice, soft and delicate, that he doesn’t quite like.

“I mean, you haven’t really shared a lot about yourself,” You go on, glancing at him carefully. “But I can figure some things out. All those species you talked about once before with me… they don’t exist anymore, do they? Because you eliminated them… And that nightmare you had once…”

“What about it?!” Raditz grunts through gritted teeth.

So you have been paying extreme attention to what he has said to you, and to what he hasn’t said too.

When he has been focusing on your actions, you have been focusing on him as well.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, I have them too. But, I’m guessing, they’re nothing similar to what you see in yours, aren't they?”

“What do you know? Where are you going with this?” Raditz growls, clenching his fists.

He has to put some distance. He stands up from the table, taking a couple of steps back. What are you even expecting him to say? You talk to him as if you feel pity towards him. It wouldn’t be the first time someone talks to him that way, patronizing him, but he isn’t expecting this from you of all people.

“Nowhere, I…” You stand up from your seat and approach him, looking him over, with something resembling compassion in your eyes. “I don’t want you to feel tense here. I’ve noticed how on guard you were the first time you stayed over. Like you were expecting me to attack you or something.”

“Don’t be stupid, I was not expecting you to attack me.” Raditz spits.

“You know what I mean. You were bracing yourself for something I wasn’t going to do.”

“Where are you going with this?” He repeats, louder.

“Nowhere! I just want you to know that I care about you-”

“You care about me?” He snaps, staring at you in the eye. He loathes the look you’re giving him, even more so when you seem startled that he’s practically yelling at your face now. “What the fuck are you talking about? We are just fucking. I have no use for your stupid human sentimentality. We are still enemies.”

“I know-”

“Then what the fuck are you talking about? You know nothing about me. I was out of my home planet by the time I was five. I’ve killed millions of species since I was born, by the time I was ten I had already purged hundreds of planets. What have you been doing? Playing games? Following my brother around while he was trying to save this backwater of a planet?”

“You know nothing about my life either.” You retort with a frown on your face, clearly angry.

“I know enough. Your world is the size of this room, mine includes other worlds, other worlds that I had either destroyed or selled to the highest bidder, or that are waiting for me to invade them. Whatever you’re trying to tell me here, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need to hear it.”

Raditz turns to walk away, to put more space in between you and him, or else he might end up saying something even worse than what he has already said.

“You’re lying.” You counter, just before he leaves the room.

“What?” He stops in his tracks and looks at you. You’re still mad, glaring at him with your hands balled into fists. It still stuns him that you’re not even a little bit afraid of him.

“You’re lying to me. You’re right, my world is small compared to yours, I have never left this planet because we don’t have the technology for it and I’m not interested either. But you’re telling me you want to go back to that life? I don’t think you do. I’ve been avoiding asking you this because we said… we agreed this is just between us for a little while, just temporary, but it seems that you’re not as happy about your life as you try to show.”

“Happy?”

What a stupid fucking word to use.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you.” Raditz gets close to you again, glaring right back, even when you’re standing your ground, returning the same intense gaze. “You think because we are fucking I own you something, and you couldn’t be more wrong. I’ve been clear with you, we are just having sex. If you expected more, I’m not sorry you were so easy to fool.”

He is taken aback when you slap him across the face. It hasn’t hurt, obviously, it probably hurt you more than it hurt him, but he hasn’t been expecting that, and he stares at you with eyes like plates.

You look hurt, frowning and with your lip trembling. He’s not sure he likes seeing that.

“You’re right. I’ve been stupid. This is my mistake.” You say, taking a step back.

Despite all that has been said, Raditz still feels the need to reach for you, his tail tightening around his waist as he tries to prevent it from wrapping itself around you. He knows he shouldn’t. He’s still angry; you’re visibly upset too. He doesn’t even know what to do in this situation. He does feel like punching something, though.

“You have to go now.” You tell him, avoiding his eyes.

He grunts, not needing to be told twice. He grabs his boots and gloves that had been lying around in your bedroom, before opening the balcony door and storming off without even looking at you.

Arguing with someone has never felt quite this wrong. Like he’s bleeding internally, like poison is spreading through his veins. Your words weren’t insane, they made perfect sense, but it was the tone in your voice. Raditz hated it. No one has talked to him like that before, it felt condescending.

‘I care about you.’

Why did you even say that? What do you even want from him?

It feels like a knife has slipped between his ribs and it has just started hurting now because it reached in too deep.

Raditz hasn’t been intentionally avoiding talking about his own life, or the fact that Vegeta and Nappa were getting there soon. But it was what you two had agreed on. Sex was simple, it was something you two could do without actually talking.

It had been naive of him to think that would be the case. Raditz never just had sex with you. He stayed over every single time, slept next to you, sat at your table, ate the food you made, shared conversations. And you had been paying attention to everything he hadn’t voiced. And you still said you cared for him.

He has been an idiot. For everything. For allowing this slip to happen in the first place, and then for letting it go on for so long. He’s shown too much of himself, and in the process didn’t realize you have shown yourself to him as well. Unintentionally or not, he doesn’t know, but he’s taken in the details of your life as if they were his own.

That’s why your words hurt. Your tone was condescending, but Raditz is not sure that was your intention, it just seemed that way to him. He doesn’t know anything else. After all, you tried to calm him down and to tell him he had no reason to be cautious when he was with you. And that you cared about him, you even asked if he likes being with you.

Of course he does.

He should turn back around and fly towards your apartment again, but his instincts tell him it’s better to leave you alone for a little while. He doesn’t want to blast through your wall.

Having to explain why what you said hurt him is not something Raditz is sure he wants to say out loud. He doesn’t know how to. Maybe it’s something he should keep to himself.

The Dragon Balls have been something he wants for months now. He’s not sure if immortality is still the right wish. Not after all this.

#dbz imagine #dbz fanfiction #dbz fics #raditz x you #raditz x reader #dragon ball z #dbz #raditz #my writing #*bs

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mycurrent-hyperfixation · 2 years

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Take A Chance On Me - Chapter Six (Eddie Munson x Reader Series)

Series Summary: Corroded Coffin is lacking only one thing that could help them win the upcoming Battle of the Bands; original songs. So when a new band comes to town with a lead singer that looks all too familiar and a repertoire of original songs up their sleeves, Dustin concocts a plan that will get you to spill all of your songwriting secrets to Eddie. It’s just a few dates, right?

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, 10 Things I Hate About You AU

A/N: First off, just wanted to point out that, no, I do not think Eddie Munson would listen to My Chemical Romance. But the songs I've chosen for all the songs in this fic are based more on the lyrics rather than anything else so let us focus on that instead. My Spotify wrapped is gonna look super weird this year because of this fic. I've listened to so many songs trying to find the right ones to fit the different plot points so I don't want people to get too hung up on the genres I'm choosing from. Lyrics, people. Let us focus on the lyrics. Also, I know this chapter is on the shorter side, but the next chapter is going to be soooo long, so that will make up for it. I love and appreciate you all for keeping this fic alive so please keep up with the likes and comments because they honestly make my day. As always, I love all of you xxx

Eddie could feel the change more than he could see it.

His interactions with you since that fateful night of the party had been fleeting, coincidental occurrences. That was at least what Eddie told himself when he found himself driving to Family Video or the record store or the Hideout, knowing full well that you would be there and yet hoping that his feigned surprise at seeing you was enough to play them off as chance encounters.

When you spoke with him it was always with your usual smile so that sometimes Eddie found himself questioning whether anything was wrong at all. And yet it was in the way your eyes met his less frequently now, your gaze always wandering away from him, seemingly more interested in your surroundings. It was in the way you sought him out less to talk, only ever engaging when he spoke first. It was in the way you spoke, less animated when you did so; your smile less wide, the sparkle between your eyes slightly dimmer.

So when Eddie saw you emerge from your car in the parking lot of the competition’s venue, your eyes alight as you continued on in whatever conversation you were enraptured within, he couldn’t quite stop himself from staring. Your lips were curved into a smile; the very same smile that he had so thoroughly missed over the past week so that even from the distance that stood between you he still found his heart beating faster at the sight of it. This was the real smile—the genuine one—not the slightly forced and slightly fake one he had seen so often lately.

The drive had seemed so very long this time without you by his side. Periodically throughout the journey Eddie had found himself searching for your car by the side of the road, hoping that maybe a new issue had arisen; perhaps a flat battery or a punctured tire. But then of course he would catch himself before the thought was even fully formed, chastising himself for ever wanting such a thing to occur. Good people did not wish for their friends’ cars to break down on the side of the road. And yet as much as Eddie hated himself for it, he could not quite quell the small sliver of hope that it would happen.

But it hadn’t.

“Why don’t you just go over and talk to her? Your pining is starting to get creepy,” Dustin said from beside him as the rest of the boys unloaded their instruments from the van. The strap of Eddie’s own guitar case hung loosely from his shoulder, his grip on the strap tightening somewhat as a laugh escaped from your lips.

“I think she’s mad at me,” Eddie responded, his gaze not moving from you.

“Well we’ve got the song for today, so something seems to be working,” Gareth called.

Eddie flinched.

“I think we should stop with the plan,” he mumbled.

“Oh, have you already written the other songs we need?” Mike questioned.

“No, not yet, but I-”

“Well then a few more dates can’t hurt,” Jeff added.

Eddie wholeheartedly disagreed. Because every time he looked at you and remembered the plan that had been so stupidly concocted that night within his trailer, the sinking feeling that had slowly been forming over the past few weeks somewhere within the pit of his stomach grew stronger. It ate at him, slowly and yet surely so that now, whenever he found himself within the warmth of your presence, there was that feeling lingering in the back of his mind.

It disgusted him.

The plan had seemed so innocent at first; so easy. And yet now the thought of it followed him around like a shadow. He had considered just telling you, maybe playing it off as a joke so that the guilt he found himself constantly racked with would finally leave him. But then he would think of the change that had already begun to occur between you and he could not quite bring himself to push you any further away from him.

“Whatever,” Eddie mumbled, not having the heart to continue with the conversation.

“You know, she’s not going to get less mad at you if you’re all the way over here,” Dustin said.

A small smile grew upon Eddie’s lips.

“You’re wiser than you look, little Henderson,” Eddie said before he found himself traversing the carpark. His legs felt slightly unstable as he walked—your figure slowly growing closer and closer towards him—until he felt almost as if they were about to buckle right out from under him when he found himself within your presence. Your back was to him, your head slightly hidden in the boot of your car as you grabbed your guitar from within.

“Allow me, m’lady,” Eddie said and before you could respond he was leaning over you and grabbing the strap of your guitar case, flinging it across his shoulders where it joined his own. Eddie could tell that you were slightly taken aback by his sudden presence, although your surprise could have also partly been because now he was standing so very close to you. He could feel the heat emanating off your skin, could smell that same tantalising scent of your perfume, and although he knew he should probably step away from you, he did not particularly feel like doing so.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, and Eddie could’ve sworn he saw the slightest upwards curve of your lips before it vanished. He so missed that smile.

“I know,” Eddie responded. “But I want to.”

A silence lingered between you then, and Eddie could feel the rest of your band staring quite unsubtly at him.

“Okay,” was all you responded with before you were walking away from him. You made your way hastily over to Vicki as you entwined your arm with hers before beginning the walk over to the venue without so much as a backwards glance.

Eddie sighed.

“Just give her some time,” Eddie heard from behind him, and upon turning around, found Robin looking almost pityingly at him.

“I’m guessing she told you what happened then.”

“Oh yeah she called me straight after.”

Eddie sighed again.

“Does she hate me now?”

Eddie furrowed his brows when Robin burst out laughing.

“Men are so dumb sometimes,” Robin said, and then upon seeing Eddie’s confused expression, elaborated. “She’s not angry, she’s embarrassed, dingus.”

Robin rolled her eyes and turned on her heels as she begun making her way across the carpark. Eddie hastily followed.

“You’re the first guy she’s let herself like in…forever,” Robin continued. “So when she tries to actually show some sort of affection and gets rejected…well that’s not great for anybody’s ego.”

“She likes me?” Eddie whispered, his lips upturning into a wide smile. He didn’t miss the blatant rolling of Robin’s eyes. “But I didn’t reject-”

“I know that, you know that, and somewhere in that stupid little brain of hers, she knows that. It’s just hard for her to open up and now she’s embarrassed since it didn’t play out like how she wanted it to.”

“So what should I do?”

“Jesus, do I have to spell everything out for you? Why don’t you grow a pair and—oh, I don’t know—actually ask her out!”

Eddie was too stunned to form a coherent response. He didn’t quite know what he had expected from this conversation, and yet being provided such an obvious answer had not seemed to even cross his mind. He turned his gaze forwards and watched on as your figure disappeared into the venue. Slowly, he felt a sly smile creep onto his features.

Eddie eventually found you sitting within the green room, still enraptured in a conversation with your bandmates. You looked up as he walked in and Eddie offered you a smile, his heart skipping slightly when the corner of your mouth upturned slightly in response.

“I thought you’d run off with my guitar there for a moment,” you said.

Eddie, in all honesty, had forgotten he was holding it.

“O-oh, yeah,” he said, hastily reaching to unsling your guitar case from around his shoulder, outstretching it towards you. When you reached out and grabbed the strap, your fingers brushed ever so faintly across Eddie’s so that now he found it was him who was averting his gaze from you as a vibrant blush crept up his neck. It was stupid really, blushing from a simple touch of your hand, and yet Eddie’s heart beat faster all the same. “I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time, though. It’ll be hard to win the competition if you’re down a guitarist.”

Eddie offered you a devilish grin and found his breath hitching in his throat when you smiled back at him. Whatever he was doing seemed to be working, for this smile was different to the ones you had been offering him lately. This one was wide and full and so very breathtaking that Eddie knew it was genuine. At the sight of it, he allowed himself to hope that maybe he was succeeding in getting things slightly back to normal.

“Even without my guitar we would still thrash you, Munson.”

Oh, how he had missed you.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, sweetheart.”

Faintly, Eddie could hear the rest of his band slowly begin to make their way into the room, but in that moment he seemed incapable of tearing his gaze away from yours. You were close now, closer than he remembered getting to you, and your eyes were so very hypnotising as he stared into them.

It was this that he had missed, he quickly realised. It was the taunting tone of your voice and the confidence in your smirk and the unrelenting attitude that never seemed to back down. It was the way you relished in the challenge of it all. It was the way you never seemed to be scared of Eddie—even with his long hair and dark clothing and inked skin—your eyes instead always focusing on the smile on his lips or the glint in his eye. And as you looked at him—really looked at him and did not back away from what you saw—Eddie felt himself begin to melt.

It was only when Dustin loudly cleared his throat that Eddie finally pulled away.

“Finally finished a song then?” you questioned with a smirk.

“As a matter of fact, we have.”

“So what’s it called?”

Eddie’s smile widened.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

---

Your band was playing first this time much to your dismay as you waited in the wings, hands gripped so tightly upon your guitar that your knuckles were turning white. It was harder now that you no longer had Eddie beside you as a distraction, the familiar feeling of your chest constricting and your palms sweating coming back in full force.

But then the stage manager was ushering you forwards and so you had little time to think of anything other than placing one foot in front of the other. The crowd cheered as you appeared on stage, the lights so blinding that at first there was nothing but a sea of darkness stretching out before you. Eventually, as you begun to set up and as your eyes slowly started to adjust, you began to make out faces among the crowd. Your breath hitched in your throat when you noticed that the size of the crowd had grown, a feat you had honestly not thought possible considering how many people had been present at the last performance.

With a shaky exhale, you tried your hardest to curve your lips into a smile, allowing your gaze to flicker quickly over the crowd. Most of the faces you found staring back at you were smiling, which you supposed was a good sign, but you still could not quell the anxiety that lingered in the pit of your stomach. As if drawn to them, your gaze came to find Eddie’s, his tall frame lingering off to the side slightly. When his eyes met yours, he offered you a wide smile, and even though the change was barely there, you felt your nerves ease somewhat.

“Hello everyone!” you called, revelling slightly as the crowd erupted into cheers. “Tonight, this song goes out to all the wannabe lovers and to the all the cowards who won’t do anything about it.” A few whistles joined the cheering now. “This one’s called Kiss Her You Fool.”

Eddie couldn’t quite stop the laugh that erupted from his throat earning him several confused looks from his band mates standing next to him. He paid them no mind as he continued to look up at you, your eyes meeting his one last time before you began as you flashed him a cheeky smile.

When the song began, Eddie found he could not quite wipe the smile from his face.

“Stop making up your excuses

Call her up, tell her you forgot something

It’s worth more than you are thinking

Don’t be a fool, tell her you think she’s cool.”

When you closed your eyes as you so often did when you played, hands still moving fluidly over each string, Eddie found his gaze flicking over to Robin for just a moment. She was staring right at him, a wide smirk upon her lips as she pulled one eye down in a not very subtle wink. Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Stop waiting for a fairy-tale to take you away

Don’t wait for someday.

She’s thinking the same thing as you

Don’t be afraid, dreams aren’t found they’re made.”

Eddie did not regret the decision he had made within his van that night. He was, in all honesty, quite in awe of how he had even managed the self-control to pull away from you in the first place. He did, however, regret the way he left things. He regretted letting you leave his van without explaining himself further, without setting things right. Because in that moment when the pungent smell of alcohol had wafted towards him, he had thought of nothing other than you.

You would regret the action when you were sober, he had been quite sure, and maybe in the end it would have caused a bigger rift to grow between the two of you. A drunken decision, nothing more, probably made from a primal desire to seek out warmth in the cold of the evening. And even though Eddie had dreamed about kissing you—the thought often plaguing his mind at odd hours of the day—if he was ever lucky enough to get the chance to do so he needed to know that you wanted it to.

“Cause you’ve only got one chance.”

Your eyes found Eddie’s once more.

“You’ve only got one chance

Kiss her you fool.”

For just a moment Eddie allowed himself to dream. He allowed himself to think about that night, how lovely you had looked in the dim light of his van. The alcohol had caused your cheeks to redden slightly and had probably had some effect on the wideness of your smile. But you had been so very beautiful sitting next to him all the same so that sometimes Eddie found himself wondering whether he had not been more drunk than he remembered and had simply hallucinated it all.

But this dream was different this time. Because as you sat before Eddie, your hair falling slightly in front of your face so that he had the desire to lean over and brush it away, you were not drunk. He smelt only the familiar scent of your perfume as he leaned forwards, so that this time there was nothing but his own racing heart making him hesitate before closing that final distance between you. But in the end he did, and he was positive that you would have been just as soft and warm and delicious as he had imagined you to be.

Eddie was pulled from his reverie as Jeff tapped him lightly on the shoulder, gesturing that it was time for them to go.

---

As you ran offstage, the adrenaline from the set still rushing through your veins, you couldn’t quite help the smile that erupted onto your lips at the sight of Eddie waiting in the wings. His guitar was held firmly in one hand, Gareth, Jeff and Mike beside him as they awaited the signal to start heading onstage. He smiled at you as you approached him, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Interesting lyrics,” Eddie said with a smirk.

“Yeah well Robin’s been pining after a crush for quite some time, so I guess I was inspired.”

“Liar,” Eddie whispered to you just as the stage manager signalled for him to go. He left your side with one last smile, revelling in the slight blush that began to creep up your cheeks.

By the time you had hastily put your guitar away and made your way into the crowd, Eddie and his band had just finished setting up their instruments. The crowd was so dense that you ended up having to remain on the outskirts, unable to penetrate very far through the throng of people to get any closer to the stage. But Eddie found you anyway, smiling before he tapped upon the microphone.

“Hello!” he called, clearly revelling in the cheer from the crowd. “We are Corroded Coffin and tonight we’ll be playing an original song that was named by a very special friend of mine.” You furrowed your brows slightly as Eddie’s eyes remained upon you. “This one’s called,” he shot you a wink before continuing, “Na Na Na.”

Eddie could see the rolling of your eyes all the way from the stage and found himself having to stifle a laugh as you flipped him your middle finger.

Gareth tapped his drumsticks together four times before the room became alight with music.

“Na, na-na, na-na, na-na, na-na,” Mike, Gareth, Jeff and Eddie practically screamed in unison. It was electrifying, the concoction of drums and guitar that exploded throughout the venue so that you couldn’t quite blame the crowd for going wild. It was an easy song to get lost in, the beat so very prominent so that one could almost not help but bang their head to it. You found yourself doing so after only the first few counts.

“Drugs, gimme drugs, gimme drugs,” Eddie broke off on his own.

“I don’t need it, but I’ll sell what you got

Take the cash and I’ll keep it.”

You hadn’t quite known what you were expecting from an original song that was written by Eddie Munson, but the loud, dramatic and practically unhinged music that filled the room was probably close. The song was fast and rowdy and partly deranged in such a way that was so very him so that you couldn’t quite wipe the smile from your face as you listened.

Eddie was having fun. It was so very clear on his face as he sang and as his hands danced over the strings of his guitar. And although you had seen him play before and although that experience had itself been entirely captivating, it was somehow even more so now that he was playing his own creation. There’s was an enthusiasm behind his voice now, something so clearly genuine that it would have been hard for anyone not to love the song.

“Love, gimme love, gimme love

I don’t need it, but I’ll take what I want from your heart

And I’ll keep it in a bag, in a box”

Eddie’s voice was not one that was entirely smooth. It instead possessed a slight rasp to it, and although it was not exactly conventional, it seemed to only add to his charm upon the stage. His voice was something that was perfect in an imperfect way; something that was gruff and guttural and entirely hypnotizing so that the more that you listened to it the more you began to wonder how husky it would get in the early hours of the morning.

The thought caused a heat to erupt low within you and a blush to rage violently across your cheeks. But the thought continued to grow and develop and multiply until it was almost like it possessed a mind of its own. There was the image of a mop of curly brown hair laid out messily across a pillow. There was the sight of a wide expanse of skin, a bare torso littered with black markings lying beside you, half covered by a blanket. There was the beginning of a voice, deep and hoarse as it wished you a good morning, pulled from the depths of sleep. You physically shook your head to dispel of the idea, and yet still the remnants of it would not leave the depths of your mind as you tried to focus back in on the song.

The lyrics seemed slightly manic and altogether quite haphazardly strewn together, each line of the chorus intermingled with that same opening sequence of na na na’s sung by Gareth, Mike and Jeff. The song was a call to arms, a rebellion against conformity that managed to get the crowd so worked up that halfway through the song, people began to repeat the na na na’s until the hall was practical shaking with the sound. It was entirely electrifying, the buzz in the room practically palpable.

It was a good song, you had to admit, and the small inclination of annoyance that lingered within you because of this had you altogether feeling quite guilty. And even though your comment regarding Eddie’s song-writing troubles had been said in passing that night at the party, and even though you had said it with the intention to help him, this blatant implementation of your tip had something twisting within your stomach. It was a strange concoction of pride, jealousy and hurt, for you had never had such a large reaction from any crowd that you had ever played. And although you were well aware that your feelings were largely unwarranted and completely unfair, as much as you tried to dispel of them, they continued to remain.

---

“Interesting lyrics you had there, Munson,” you said as Eddie entered the green room. Most of the other bands had packed up and left already, leaving the space oddly quiet as the rest of your own band began making their way out of the door. Before she left, Robin turned back to look at you before flashing you a wink paired with a grin. You rolled your eyes as she disappeared from sight.

“I just have these genius sparks of inspiration sometimes,” he responded with a smirk. Without another word as you clipped the case of your guitar closed, Eddie leaned over you and plucked it from your grasp, slinging it across his shoulder just as fluently as he had done the first time. And as you turned to look at him and as he continued to smile down at you, the curve of his lips soft and relaxed in the position, all the animosity and resentment you had felt within the crowd slipped away.

“I want writing credit if you ever record that,” you said, pointing a finger up at him sternly.

You slowly began to make your way from the room, Eddie staying by your side as you traversed the hallway.

“I’m surprised you would want to be associated with such a…hmmm what was it…mediocre band I think you called us.”

A laugh escaped your lips.

“You’re not getting out of this one that easily, Munson”

“I hardly think you can copyright ‘na na na’.”

“It was practically half the song!”

Eddie bent his head back slightly and let out a hearty laugh. Your walk was slow, hesitant almost as you emerged from the depths of the dark hallway out into the moonlit carpark. Eddie’s shoulder brushed periodically against your own as you went, and although you thought this an indication that you were likely walking too close, you did not move away. You could see your friends lingering by the side of your locked car and Eddie’s bandmates doing the same by his van, and although the wind brought with it a slight chill, neither of you quickened your pace. Whilst you still could, you simply allowed yourself to relish the moment; the comfort of the silence that lingered between the two of you, the thought of a boy walking beside you as he carried your guitar bringing a smile to your lips.

One of Eddie’s hands gripped lazily onto the strap of his guitar case, the other dangling between you. You thought briefly of reaching out and grasping it within your own, entwining your fingers with his. They would be large, you thought, and would likely engulf yours completely. For just a second, the skin on the back of Eddie’s hand brushed against your own, but whether it was intentional or not you couldn’t quite tell. Either way, the touch had you yearning to reach out and do it again.

But then suddenly the walk was over as you came to stop by your car. Your bandmates stood around it, quite unsubtly staring straight at the boy beside you so that your movements were done hastily as you unlocked the vehicle for them. Hesitantly, they began to pack their instruments away before climbing inside.

There was another silence that lingered between you when you turned back to face Eddie; this time something thick and timid and slightly awkward.

“Well I’ll see you later, Munson,” you said, reaching out one hand to open the door of your car.

“Wait.” Eddie wasn’t quite sure what overtook him, but suddenly his own hand was outstretching towards yours, trapping your wrist within his fingers. You widened your eyes slightly in surprise, but you did not pull away from him.

“I wanted to ask you,” Eddie continued, his heart suddenly thundering in his chest. “Um…I was wondering if maybe…if you were free…only if you wanted to, of course…I could maybe…take you out sometime?” Eddie cringed internally at his own lack of confidence, the timidity so very clear in his voice.

You simply continued to smile up at him devilishly.

“The thing is,” you said, pausing for a moment. “I don’t really go out with lyric stealers.”

Whatever Eddie had been expecting you to say, it certainly wasn’t that. A hesitant smile formed on his features.

“So…is that a yes?” he asked.

“No.”

Eddie felt his smile falter slightly. You had meant it as a joke, had said it in the same taunting and teasing tone that you always used with Eddie. And yet you saw it all in the span of a second; the doubt and the embarrassment and the sheer heartbreak that flashed behind his eyes. All of it had you hastening to continue, but before you could do so Eddie spoke once more.

“So was it a no?”

There was a sadness behind his voice now, one that had your heart beginning to break.

So with a movement so quick Eddie wasn’t altogether sure it actually happened, you were suddenly standing upon the tips of your toes and placing a delicate kiss against Eddie’s cheek.

“No.”

---

Songs Used:

- Kiss Her You Fool by Kids That Fly

- Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) by My Chemical Romance

---

Taglist:

@alicetweven @juggernort @theh3aven @manamitoyota @mimiluvsualot @cherrypieyourface @kaqua @c0untryclub @goldencherriess @emotionaldreamer @givemethesleep @milkiane @miscreantsnopossoms @legendaryfestsoul-blog

Series Taglist

@grungegrrrl @thirddeadlysin @boomitsallie1 @renaroo123 @wordsthatwaterflowersinyoursoul @annnnn91 @bakugouswh0r3 @aivilovio @wannabewiedzma

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #dustin henderson #steve harrington #robin buckley #joseph quinn #Joe Quinn

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hotlink907 · 2 years

Text

request: miyeon x fem reader, “I like you. I like you a lot.”

pairing: miyeon x fem reader

genre: tiny bit of angst, fluff

warnings: none really

a/n: Oh my goodness I loved writing this. I love soft Miyeon!

You didn’t know why you were nervous. There was no real reason for you to feel any nervousness at all. After all, Miyeon had just asked to meet up with you. It wasn’t that big of a deal. You two did that kind of thing all the time.

So why did this time feel different? She had asked you to meet her at a place the two of you visited frequently enough. It was a small art gallery downtown. Nothing too large and nothing too extravagant, but it was a nice place to go when one of you was feeling overwhelmed. The two of you would sit quietly in front of a painting and just talk. And somehow, it always made you feel better.

So when she had asked you to meet there again, it shouldn’t have meant anything. But for some reason, it felt like it did.

“Hi.”

You looked up sharply. Your attention had been so focused on the painting in front of you that you hadn’t even heard her approaching.

“Oh!” You slid over to make room for her. She sat down gently and shrugged her coat off then looked up at the painting that you had just been staring at. She looked different. More... thoughtful? You could tell without any doubt that there was something on her mind.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, looking at you.

“I... yes,” you answered, feeling strangely tongue-tied. She had returned her attention to the painting, which was a gorgeous ocean horizon, with clouds reducing visibility of whatever was in the distance. But you were still looking at her.

“I wonder what’s behind the clouds?” she said. “But I guess that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? We don’t know what’s there. Even the artist doesn’t know.” “Miyeon...” you said. You couldn’t explain why, but you were starting to feel a little worried. “What’s going on?”

She tore her eyes off the painting, an act that seemed to take physical effort. When she looked at you again, you saw a strange sadness on her face. But also a calm resolve. “I just wanted to talk to you,” she said finally.

“Are you okay? You’re scaring me a little.”

Miyeon was calm. It was one of the reasons why you liked her. She was funny and clever and sometimes a little silly--but things didn’t often bother her.

Miyeon sighed. “I don’t know how to say this,” she continued. “But... I took the modeling job.”

You reached over and squeezed her hand. “Miyeon, that’s amazing! What’s wrong?” You knew that she had been taking offers for modeling jobs for a few months, but she hadn’t accepted any of them yet. It would be a big change. You had tried to convince her--after all there was no one alive that was as pretty as she was--but she had been fairly stubborn.

That was another reason why you liked her.

She looked down, seemingly unable to meet your eyes.

“Miyeon... whatever it is, tell me. We can figure it out together. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“I have to move,” Miyeon said quietly. “Across the country. For months. Maybe longer.”

You heart sank. You knew that she was going to have to move--it was obvious. But you hadn’t known it would be for so long. But even still, you should be happy for her, right? This was the chance of a lifetime. One that she deserved, probably more than anyone else.

So why did it feel like you had just been punched in the stomach? That answer was obvious. You knew it, but Miyeon didn’t. And she would never known. You you tried your best to piece together a smile.

“But this is your dream!” you said. “Miyeon, I’m so happy for you. You deserve this.” And you meant every word. But at the same time, you couldn’t help but think about the months that would drag by without her--and that was only if she chose to come back when she was done.

Miyeon nodded, but she looked distracted. Actually, distracted was an understatement. She looked like she was somewhere on another planet. “There’s... something else I need to tell you,” she said. “And it might be hard to hear. But I have to say it before I leave because if I don’t... I’ll just be thinking about it the whole time.” You wished you could make her laugh. You missed her laugh. But you knew based on her tone, on her expression, that right now, laughter was the furthest thing from her mind.

“You can tell me,” you said softly. “You know you can tell me anything.” Miyeon swallowed and squeezed your hand. “My heart is beating so fast,” she said with a small laugh. “I feel like a little girl again.”

You didn’t understand, but you didn’t say anything else. You just waited for her to be ready.”

“It’s... well.” She looked up at the ceiling. “Why is this so hard?” “It’s okay,” you said. “When you’re ready.” Her next words shattered your world. Two sentences that changed everything. Barely any words at all and yet they rearranged your thoughts, your hopes. Maybe even your future.

“I like you. I like you a lot.”

You blinked. You said nothing. Surely you misheard.

“I think I have for a long time. I just didn’t realize it for so long. It’s just... I love being with you. And I realized that when I thought about what I would miss the most... you were at the top of the list. I want to be with you.”

Her hand was shaking on yours. You gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Miyeon kept talking. “Maybe it’s too much. Maybe it’s too late. But I had to tell you. I just had to. I couldn’t leave without saying it at least once. And it doesn’t have to change anything. I love being your friend, I just--”

“Miyeon,” you said, interrupting her. Her hand was still trembling.

“What?” she asked, wide-eyed and slightly flushed.

“Please shut up.”

And then you leaned in and kissed her.

There would be time to talk about it all later. To work out what it all meant. But for now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that you were somehow living out something you had dreamed of for far too long. Something that had always felt impossible to you. She was there, with you--next to you--in a place that was so special to you both.

And you were kissing her.

When you separated from her, you felt like your heart was going to hammer out of your chest. Your face felt flushed as well, more than hers had looked. She looked stunned--but not in a bad way.

“We’re going to make this work,” you said, and there wasn’t a shred of doubt in your voice.

You held her soft hand in-between both of yours. And you realized that she wasn’t shaking anymore.

“I know,” she whispered. “Because whenever I’m with you, I feel like I can do anything.”

#miyeon imagines #miyeon x reader #miyeon fanfic #gidle x reader #gidle fanfic #gidle imagines #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #girl group x reader #girl group fanfic #girl group imagines

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mapsofnonexistentplaces · 17 days

Text

also since i wanna rewrite it to fit with a redone worldbuilding tidbit heres like. some slightly older lore from when i wrote about the unique outfits and motifs everyone from train has. putting it under the cut cause its long

in general the system of ‘fast fashion’ has kind of collapsed and instead there’s a huge focus on durable/magically enhanced materials and also generally, having knowledge of sewing and other misc haberdashery type shit. i’d compare the importance and prevalence of it to a skill like cooking i suppose? i imagine there’s just a lot of redistribution of old fabrics with weird patterns and whatnot, which people often just integrate into existing clothes of theirs. getting into this more extensively in a second but on the flipside there’s also a lot more revere toward tailors and anyone who produces custom outfits on demand, so people who aren’t skilled with customising their own clothes often seek out this manner of purchase… there are also some small stores that sell ‘pre-made’ items of clothing with precise patterns and motifs, though these are usually seen as ‘tacky’.

another thing is like. what i’ll call the habit of characters just wearing the same outfit seemingly ‘all the time’ — which at first was kind of just meant to be a play on the weird time dilation presented on the train, but i’ve taken it as a canonical in-universe thing. that is to say i imagine everyone has like a ‘main costume’ they wear in their day-to-day life, and technically speaking i imagine it involves owning multiple copies of the same outfit lol. but it’s basically someone’s most important, most presentable and most epitomic outfit that’s supposed to put on display their chosen motifs

to properly focus on the idea of ‘motifs’, they are also an acknowledged construct with a lot of cultural importance! motifs are basically ‘signatures’ a person has to identify them and set them apart from others, with most people having two. motifs can basically be anything from plants to animals to patterns to like. really obscure iconography like soundwave diagrams to alchemical symbols and whatever. motifs are often combined with a ‘skeleton’ of an outfit — often part of a job ‘uniform’, such as a waiter’s suit or boilersuit, though globally most workplaces keep dress codes lenient and open to customisation. this both further adds ‘panache’ and ‘depth’ to a daily outfit and often gives a person a good starting point for their daily outfit. also perhaps it sounds a bit too dramatic but i’ve been loosely rattling around the idea of calling daily outfits ‘paradigms’ and will continue to refer to them as such because it’s a shorter word lol.

anyway another important aspect of paradigms, and clothing in general, are colors! due to the whole scrapbook nature of fashion in the 22nd century, it is indeed more about loose color groups than like precise hex codes and shades, but people often associate themselves with one or two particular colors and try to incorporate them into many outfits. though not as important as motifs, with some people forgoing strict color ‘loyalty’ altogether, many do appreciate consistency!

motifs have a huge social aspect to them. in general. like quite loosely there’s the attitude i implied about certain motifs being seen as ‘generic’ and hence, a signal of unoriginality. for example anyone with a stars motif or a leafs motif, without any further specification or interesting secondary motif, is often seen as extremely boring! prime example of this is lusine, who’s clothing style is quite generic and involves a lot of ‘ready made’ clothing… it itself was often too preoccupied with programming to care much for its appearance, thus the very general motif — literally wearing ‘stuff you’d find in a store.’ conversely valerie has a very simplistic but unified paradigm, intentionally playing on first-view assumed minimalism — although her pants have very meticulous heart inscriptions at the bottom, which is kind of her just flexing her sewing ability, and the ribbon in her hat has a wire in it twisted to maintain a heart silhouette, etc though it isn’t as gaudy and evident as someone like marjolaine or olzhas’, it quietly displays a lot of ‘tricks’ that signify her prowess at design. which is deemed very very cool. to go over the aforementioned ‘gaudy’ two: marjolaine’s outfit has a lot of subtle symbolism such as the necklace, use of gold and boot patterning, alongside subtle design choices like the dna belt embroidery, the carved clover pattern on the monocle, and the general clover pastiche in the neck/sleeve/skirt frills, but it’s like such an involved outfit that it basically says “oh you’re very rich and you paid a tailor to make all this for you.” she didn’t literally, having summoned it via object-pullers, but it still has very strong connotations to wealth and ‘showing off’ that anyone could easily detect lol. like it seems too busy and ‘pre-made’, so to speak. conversely olzhas has a very focused pattern on the apron, seen as a rich person thing again, but it’s balanced by the cool factor of balancing 4 separate colors on a paradigm and having them look nice… alongside this there’s a lot of subtlety in the harlequin pattern being repurposed as ‘diamonds’ repeatedly and the harlequin costume-based shoes, alongside things like eir shades and dress hem harkening to the blockiness of brutalism, which is just seen as good use of composition. in short e has some touches of the same ‘trying too hard’ habit that marjolaine has, but it’s offset by seen ‘tastefulness’ and personal effort in coordination.

alongside having some reputational significance, motifs are also often important when it comes to romantic relationships! upon getting engaged or married, people will often start to ‘share’ their motifs in certain ways. this can be generally done by just exchanging clothes or sewing things onto paradigm components… but a more subtle and momentous marker comes in the form of ‘marriage tokens’ — iterating on the idea of wedding rings, but with the scope growing to ANY kind of ornate accessory worn by someone that is decorated with their partner’s motif. people often go all out and splurge on customised items, and as opposed to things like engagement rings, a couple will decide on matching items together AFTER a proposal has already been made. it’s often common to get ornate rings with carvings of motifs (as is the case for beatrix and marjolaine; marjolaine owning a ring with a stylised star, beatrix with a ladybug one) or earrings with motif shapes (eventually the case for olzhas and isel — olja wearing a sun-shaped earring on one ear, and isel wearing a diamond-shaped earring on the opposing one) to more involved things like pins/badges, ribbons, etc. honestly there’s less strain about ever losing marriage tokens because often, people will choose to ‘renew’ them anyway to keep up with paradigm changes over the years.

thiiis brings me to a digression which is that motifs can be freely changed! of course! and there are three major causes for it; either it’s teenagers who are already given this ‘grace period’ to experiment with motifs so it’s not a big deal; or it’s a couple who chooses to ‘swap’ motifs entirely, kind of seen as an insanely romantic gesture often used as a trope in fiction; or it’s a personal change often done after a grand event in one’s life, seen as a quite serious and gravitous ordeal. i have two examples for the lattermost one; isel abandoning his old marigold motif in exchange for the bobolink one, to mark his acceptance of his life on the fornax train; and peixin modifying its general digital audiovisual motif into the older historical devices one to signify its connection to fornax and its visions, and its feelings of time displacement as a result.

to get back to paradigm changes upon marriage, i’m bringing back the thing about colors! these are also often incorporated into outfits upon a union, whether with someone just wearing clothes containing the other’s main colors — such as cas and lanuola, with cas’ makeup and boots utilising lanuola’s blue (if you’re wondering, cas’ presence in lanuola’s outfit actually presents itself as a restructure mostly related to shape instead of color lol. she did not wear that multilayered cape beforehand and it intentionally mirrors cas’ dress) — or people ‘tinting’ their main colors with their partner’s. the latter is extremely evident with olzhas, whose main color used to be blue, though e changed it to eir current purple by attempting to inch it towards isel’s marigold yellow! (and again for contrast, isel later just ‘stole’ the purple from olzhas wholesale as his secondary color, and later transformed it into his classic pink by he himself attempting to inch it to freya’s red lol. which is to restate that partners do not necessarily mirror each other’s motif/color incorporations via the same method, and also to state that motif/color matching is NOT necessarily romantic, and i guess more precisely a simple signifier of a deep emotional connection, which can indeed be platonic. also note that isel technically stole a color that had a basis in his own outfit, which comes across as mildly egotistical to people who are very precise about color sharing lol!)

in those examples also it’s important to state that both pairs actually changed their outfits before getting properly engaged, which is seen as kind of immature and overzealous — to a degree there’s this attitude about ‘being responsible’ for your motif and, if you’re old enough, not changing it arbitrarily for anyone and only doing so for a serious commitment lest you remove the ‘honor’ from the act… and perhaps there was too much eagerness involved, since both pairs literally knew one another for no more than a month before they decided to be all involved about it lol but it’s fiiiine.

conversely another interesting example comes in the form of beatrix and marjolaine, who kind of convey a disjointed sharing of color? marjolaine’s main colors used to be, simply, red and green though the red became relegated to a tertiary/accent color in the wake of incorporating yellow, completely just taken from beatrix. conversely beatrix used to have a LOT of red on his outfit, which he quickly kind of ‘scrubbed’ by the time he boarded the train — kind of adding insult to injury, regarding the whole ‘entering the train just to divorce my terrible wife’ thing… he incorporates it into his skirt again by the time dalisay arrives to the train but it’s much more barren compared to the frequency of it prior, kind of commenting on the unbalanced nature of their relationship… marjolaine’s fully preserved beatrix’s color and still has it overtake her former colors, kind of as a ‘show’ of dedication, but beatrix doesn’t buy it and keeps her own incorporation of marjolaine’s color kind of degraded, more or less showing he’s visibly reluctant about it… frown

children have a ‘bridge’ motif between their parents motifs (never finished elaborating on this lol)

#i suppose i should post more stuff like this on here hah let me know if its interesting #ccsimulacrum #ccs.text

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zillyeh · 10 months

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Scrying Mirror

hi im going thru my wips out of any sort of order that makes sense. here's some pre-Sunseeker Sunseeker content :) (roughly 160 sweeps prior to "current" timeline)

“Ailkan,” a voice in his room made the man in question jump. He hadn’t even heard the door to the small workshop open.

“God, woman, if you moved any quieter you would make a better assassin than Arthur,” he said, scrambling to throw a sheet over the small standing mirror on his workshop table.

“What do you need, my dear Goetia?” His sarcastic sneer around his kismesis’ least favorite pet name made her grimace. Or perhaps that expression was already on her face. The Mystique was not often one for pleasant moods- at least not when it came to him.

Tonight seemed no different. Her dark purple eyes narrowed- all three of them. The headband she usually kept the third covered with kept her thick, graying coils up with the rest of her hair, and out of her face. Her black, floor length dress was unusually muted for her.

The eye in the center of her forehead looked past him, yet seemed more severe than either of the ones she had full control over.

“Do you know what you are doing?” she asked, not moving from the doorframe. What a question- hardly a question at all. A soft demand for information. Ailkan huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Might I know what you are referring to, Shia?” the taller purpleblood asked aloofly. “I’m hardly a mind reader. More your thing, non?” A jab that would always get under her skin- It’s future sight! she’d protest. She did no such thing now. She moved silently into the room tracing her fingers along the walls, her middle eye keeping him in her sights.

“I would love to. If I knew where to begin,” she said, picking up a sparkling bottle of… something and turning it over in her hand once. “I find it difficult to reprimand you for actions I cannot see.”

“The great and mighty Mystique can’t pull our future with her ghosties?” Ailkan tutted, receiving another threefold glare.

“My life goes dark around you like I’ve never seen before,” she said seriously, picking up another pretty trinket of his, turning it over, and putting it down. “Soon. You are fading from my sight, and I fear you are going to take me with you.” Ailkan kept his gaze forward, some cold feeling creeping up his neck. He pulled his long ponytail over his shoulder and began to braid. A nervous habit that would hopefully distract her from the covered object behind him

“You are dramatic,” Ailkan said with a roll of his eyes, feeling a reassuring pressure on his shoulders. “You see something you do not understand, and you simply fear the worst. Père Jortis would probably know all about your shadowy little vision, you know. Leaving Enfaris was likely the worst thing you could do for your powers.”

Goetia paused, fingers brushing up against a marble bust of an older clown. Her lower eyes trained on him, something close to hurt falling on her features.

Too condescending. That pressure on his shoulders was no longer so reassuring.

Be quiet. Ailkan rolled his shoulders back, stretching.

Goetia opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Her small dotted eyebrows furrowed, her mouth falling to a grimace once more.

“Are you too far gone in your foolishness now then, Kanna?” she hissed, middle eye darting around the room for something. She approached him, her hand moving to her other palm, seemingly on its own.

“What are you meddling with, Ailkan? Spirits?” she demanded “Your mind is not built for them, you have too much chemistry in it.” Her forefinger traced something into her hand, but she did not seem to notice. “I understand my sight fine, you idiot. I have gone over it several times- with Gozjam present even.” Her eye slowed its movement, resting on him. He swallowed, combing the braid out of his hair with his fingers. His face betrayed something that made some tension leave her shoulders.

“I know what death feels like, Ailkan,” she said, almost a plea. “Even if just from the outside, it is nothing like this. If you were going to kill me, I would see that- would have seen it ages ago. What you are going to do to me is far, far worse. And I don’t know what it is.”

Her right hand slapped her left, grabbing it by the wrist. Tightly. Her eye flicked behind him, to his Mirror. A pressure built up in Ailkan’s chest, making it so difficult to breathe that he needed to grip the table for support.

Don’t let her have me, my love. Ailkan’s thoughts clouded with fear that was not his own. She means to ruin me. To ruin us.

“Ailkan…” Goetia said slowly, her right hand pulling her curious left back, as much as it tried to reach behind him. She found him. She found his Mirror, his one lifeline in this godforsaken province, his Jeltik. Ailkan should have known better, he should have hid him better. But the wards that would have kept him safe from her would have drained the life out of Jeltik. His ghost was just that fragile.

Ailkan’s chest hurt so much he was starting to see stars. He didn’t remember when he stopped breathing.

“I am going to ask you again,” Goetia continued, her smarter right winning over her left. “Do you know what you are doing?”

“I know exactly what I am doing,” Ailkan wheezed, the constricting around his lungs squeezing once more in caution. “You think I am too stupid to dabble in science and ghosts at once?” More pressure released as he found some fire to use against her.

“I think you are too smart to be fucking around with malevolent spirits!” she cried, an incredibly rare raising of her voice. “I think that unless you are possessed you should know better!”

That word hung heavy between the three of them. Possessed. Such a nasty, nasty accusation.

Ailkan was a partner, not a possession, wasn’t he?

You are, you are.

“I know what I’m doing," Ailkan said firmly, feeling lighter than ever. Jeltik needed his defense, she could never understand what they had. Who he was.

Who he was going to become.

But then again, neither did Ailkan.

“Proving yourself to me should not come at the cost of us both Ailkan,” Goetia pleaded in earnest, the sclera of her middle eye turning dark as it strained to the mirror behind him. She took one of his hands, tightly, searching for something in his eyes. “You are a worthy rival because you are frustratingly intelligent and arrogant in that. If you continue down this path, I will have no choice but to end you before you end me.”

Ailkan paused. She was so calm. How calmly she threatened his life, his love.

How arrogant she is to think your traipse beyond the veil has anything to do with her.

“You would end us like that, Goetia?” Ailkan asked breathlessly. Something in his pained face must have made the part of her who loved him falter. Relenting was not often a word used in associated with either with them, but she took a step back. Her own possessed third eye remained fixated behind him.

“I value my life more than yours,” she said simply. “Would you allow my life to darken the way I’ve seen?”

Ailkan hesitated for a few moments too long.

Goetia took another step back. Air began to properly flow into Ailkan’s lungs again. For a moment he though she was about to leave his cluttered workshop until she said:

“Get out.”

“Shia-”

All of her eyes were hard on his own, her expression stony like he’d only ever seen Arthur pull off.

“Take that thing out of here, and don’t come back unless it’s gone.”

No! Jeltik’s pressure came right back, this time something shaky in the way he held Ailkan’s chest. He still held him tight, painfully squeezing another wheezing sentence out of him.

“Surely you don’t mean-”

“You are to be out of this church within an hour of dusk fall or you will be buried underneath it.” Her voice did not waver. She must have made up her mind before she came down here. Knowing more than she let on just to trip him up…

"If that's how you want it, then fine." Alkain coughed when Jeltik fully released him, nearly stumbling forward. His gasping breaths weren’t lost on Goetia who- even in the midst of kicking him out of the church- reached to help him. The moment his fingers brushed the bare skin of her arms, she hissed. Dropped him to the floor like he’d burned her. He scrambled up from the heap she’d left him in, trying to fill his lungs before Jeltik’s presence clawed them shut again.

In the dark, the faint glow of her sclera was gone now. Entirely black like Ailkan had only seen one other time. The third oozed her dark blood down her forehead, glowing brighter than anything in that dark room.

She took a step towards his desk.

“No!” he shouted, clambering up to put himself between her and the Mirror.

“Ailkan,” she said, her voice deeper, fuller, as if there were overlapping souls speaking to him now. “You don’t get the choice anymore, give it to me. Now.”

Ailkan wrenched the black mirror from its covered stand, holding it behind him. Her approach was slow and calculated. Like she knew he was no match for her if he tried. He held his precious cargo close to his chest, cradling it like it would shatter him to lose. Jeltik’s presence had retreated so far back into it Ailkan feared that just her touch had killed him. His eyes darted around the basement lab. Clutter made finding a route out difficult, but he was fast when he found it.

He threw a statuette from his desk at her, distracting her for long enough to dart towards a pedestal with some clown’s bust sat atop it. His things, his precious precious possessions meant nothing anymore. Anything that stood between bringing his lover to the light could explode to bits for all he cared anymore.

With an effortless heave, he threw down the pedestal with a loud crash. She lunged after him anyway, knocking through boxes as he raced her to the door. Ailkan threw everything he could behind him. The light of the upstairs- that’s all he had to reach. He’d run through the streets, to the woods. Places she would not dare go without the rest of the heretics upstairs. They would finally be safe. Together.

That glittering bottle she’d handled earlier shattered on the floor. Whether it was the glass, gooey liquid, or the sickeningly sweet smell that tripped her up finally, Ailkan didn’t care. He flew up the stairs, toppling over whoever had come to check on the noise. That body made some sort of noise like a swear, but Ailkan didn’t bother to process it. There was more shouting behind him, but it didn’t matter. He was already halfway down the pews lining the nave, long legs and adrenaline carrying him through the double doors into the sunlight.

#Zilly drabbles #Mystique tag #Possessed tag #Sunseeker tag #Scrying Mirror

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jonathanbiers · 2 years

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longtime reader first time anon! in regards to the "steve doesn't know what a bisexual is" thing, I'm honestly going back and forth about whether ANYONE in a small town in the mid-eighties would be super familar with the concept — as a bisexual myself I am wondering. researching it hasn't come up with much, because while we know bisexuality was definitely developing as its own movement in queer urban spaces, how much of that permeated middle america?

hi, first of all i’m??? so flattered that you’ve read my stuff and stuck around to read more but anyway, getting to the subject of the discussion,

i mean i live in a small town but it’s not the 80s anymore and i was not alive then, so my perspective is still limited. but it’s definitely feasible to me that he’d be aware of the concept of bisexuality, whether or not he had the vocabulary for it.

but correct me if i’m wrong, we have evidence of him having an idea of the concept of bisexuality in the show when he reassures robin that vickie could still be interested, even if she had a boyfriend? and that smile at the end of vol 2 when he sees them interacting. that’s a “go best friend” smile if i’ve ever seen one, he sees her hitting it off. he knows she has a chance, even after they saw her kissing a guy

and if that’s not enough, david bowie was huge at the time and also known for liking both. this would definitely be talked about in a small town like that, even if it’s just to be derogatory(which lets be real it would) which makes it very hard for me to believe he’s never been exposed to the concept even if he’s repressed his own feelings, which is basically what you’re talking about in the third ask. i hope you don’t mind me condensing them all into one post btw jajdhjdnf

also speaking of your third ask, i’ve lived that too!! this discussion is not about me but i wanted to throw it in there. and my experience is obviously different, but. i spent a good chunk of my self discovery journey identifying as a lesbian when i was, in fact, a transmasc dealing with comphet all along. i repressed the fuck out of my attraction to guys even when i didn’t yet realize i was one. that’s a very very real thing. even while doing things that were (for me) a very obvious sign of attraction. also, if you’re a longtime enough reader to have been around before i abandoned the multi chapter steddie fic that i just haven’t deleted yet, that’s pretty much where i was going to go with that just for the record. him realizing he felt the attraction all along and just repressed it because of (he wouldn’t know the vocabulary but) comphet. not some weird “what do you mean, both?” robin handfeeding him the dictionary definition of bisexual thing that happens way to often in fics to even be funny anymore

which brings me to your second ask. who decided that robin “trips and stutters around pretty girls” buckley and eddie “super super senior dnd nerd plays his guitar so much he learns master of puppets in a couple of weeks” munson are the experts on queer history and would be the ones to explain to poor little dumb baby steve that he’s attracted to both like he’s not a big boy with more emotional intelligence and depth than A LOT of main male characters out there, and who can figure shit out his damn self? please. robin is…robin, we love her, but she’s not giving me “goes to gay bars in indianapolis” vibes. who’s taking her to these, anyway? she can’t drive. she’s underage. definitely not giving me “has a fake id” vibes, either. try and convince me robin “or rather my mouth moves faster than my brain” buckley could get past a club bouncer. and eddie, bless his heart(affectionate), whether you’re a virgin eddie truther or not, is not some sex god who knows everything about being gay and swoops in to share this privileged knowledge with steve. those fanfics, while a fun fantasy at first, are something i’m sick and tired of seeing at this point. and yet the damage is seemingly done, the fandom has just come to that consensus at this point.

#anonymous #i’m sorry i got carried away and rambled at you #please don’t be shy to talk to me thoooo #i love talking to y’all and (as evidenced here) i do not shut up

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whumping-in-the-wings · 2 years

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Whoo, boy, it feels like such a long time since I posted anything! I’ve actually had this piece done for awhile and I’m very proud of it, but I was absolutely slammed with schoolwork this week, and, if you saw my last post, I’ve been battling one of my professors about some disability things, so writing kind of had to take a backseat. Updates may get a tiny bit more sporadic for the next few months, between school and the NaNoWriMo novel I’m gearing up for. I also have a few new stories swimming around in my head, so I may devote some time to some of them. But I’ll still be updating as often as I can, so enjoy this latest installment!

CW: mentions of injury, accidental dehumanization (very mild), caretaker POV

Taglist: @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @finaldreams1106, @redwingedwhump, @whumpy-catfish, @kixngiggles (as always, let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!)

Traces: Part Seven

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For a moment they stood there, Cyra and the centaur, neither of them breaking the stunned, strained silence that sank down over the stable. Something flickered in the centaur’s eyes, a flash of alarm, and Cyra realized suddenly that she understood it, understood him, just as he had been trying to understand her.

He could speak, but he hadn’t meant to let that secret slip. And now that he had, he was waiting to see what she would do with it.

“You can speak,” she repeated. “But you didn’t mean to let me know that, did you, now?”

She hadn’t expected it to feel so strange, speaking to him. She’d been speaking to him just a moment before, the way she so often did when she was alone with her horses, but somehow it was all different knowing the words meant something to him, that he could answer them.

But he didn’t, still watching her with wariness, even fear in his eyes. Unsurprising, seeing how much he’d been through while she hadn’t been here to put a stop to it. Cyra let her eyes rove over him again, taking stock of the injuries she’d already seen and the ones she hadn’t noticed till now: the bruises littering his pale human half, the livid scarlet of the second brand against his shoulder, the skin chafed raw beneath the rope around his wrists. She’d been angered about those wounds from the moment she’d seen them- she’d never stood for that sort of thing in her stables, no matter how often Duncan tried it- but it was surprising, and a little shameful, how much worse they seemed now that the centaur had shown his human side.

She’d had the bewildered thought, when she’d first heard his voice, that it would take her a long time to get used to this. But as her gaze came back to his face, to those dark eyes, she found that she’d been wrong about that.

“We should have known,” she burst out. “Should have known the moment we looked one of you in the face that you and your kind were no different than us.” She scoffed. “That is, if we weren’t too busy trying to kill you to even give you a second glance. Surprised they didn’t do the same to you, when they found you. What Sir Aubrey thinks he’s going to do with you, I don’t have any idea.”

Then, for the first time, the centaur answered her, drawing a small, shuddering sigh and squaring his shoulders first, as though resigning himself to the fact that he would have to trust her.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. His voice wasn’t as deep as she would have expected, if she’d been expecting him to have one at all; it was soft and rich, with a bit of a rasp to it, colored with a faint, lilting sort of accent. A centaur accent, she realized. Was she the first human in the world who had ever heard it? Likely so. She was probably the first human who had ever bothered to listen.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said again, seemingly trying to convince himself of his own words. “The others…you said you could stop him. From doing this to them.”

For a second time, she felt that sudden flash of understanding. The others, he’d said. Not just any others, but those he knew, those he loved. Those he was protecting.

He was still watching her, half eager, half desperate, as if nothing in the world had ever been as important as her answer. She drew a long sigh. “Aubrey’s the master here,” she said simply. “I can’t stop him doing anything once he’s put his mind to it. But, if it’s a comfort, he doesn’t like to cross me if he can help it.”

It was a poor reassurance, and she knew it, but it was as much hope as she could give. The centaur nodded, whether in acknowledgment or in thanks she couldn’t tell. But new shadows stamped themselves into the care-lines on his face, and the look in his eyes changed from resigned acceptance to a soul-deep weariness, as though he’d suddenly realized the weight of his circumstances and found it all much too heavy for him.

He should never have been in these circumstances at all. She should have been here, should have stopped it, should have made sure he never saw the inside of her stable, Sir Aubrey or no.

But there was little to be done about it now. She cast about her for something she could do, some small difference that would go some way towards fixing…this, all of this, whatever the lord of the manor intended this to be in the end.

That rasp to his voice. She seized on that, limped forward quickly to open the stall door.

Too quickly. He flung his head up in the same way a startled horse might do, stepped back as far as the cramped confines of the stall would allow. “No, no,” she said. “None of that, lad. I’m not like them. I’m not going to hurt you. Can I untie that rope, or are you going to try and strangle me the moment you’ve got your hands loose?”

He studied her face for a moment, searching for some sort of trap in the words, before he finally shook his head. “I’m not like that either,” he said. “Not like-“

He broke off, but the words not like you humans hung in the air unspoken. Not as though she could blame him for it.

She was somewhat wary herself, stepping around beside him, more than aware of how much stronger he was, the kind of damage he could do if he took it into his head. But he only sighed with relief when the rough rope finally came loose, massaging his raw-rubbed wrists as she left the stall again, crossing to where the mule still waited patiently. After a few moments’ rummaging in the saddlebag, she came up with a worn leather flask and held it out to him.

“Water,” she explained. “You sound as though you need it.”

He nodded, swallowing the liquid greedily, desperately. She watched him for a moment before a hot redness flooded her cheeks, and she turned away as quickly as her legs would let her. Here she was gawking at him like he was nothing more than a spectacle, as if he hadn’t just proven how human he was beyond any shadow of a doubt. She despised everything Sir Aubrey was doing, would never have done it herself, but years of being told that centaurs were no more than animals was proving a difficult habit to break.

And on the distasteful subject of Sir Aubrey…she turned back, searching about for a moment in search of the right words. They weren’t there to be found, so she decided to fall back on her usual standby: coming right to the point, as quickly and bluntly as possible.

“I can’t get you out of this,” she said. “If I could, I’d do it, but I can’t. He’d know it was me, because there’s no one else who would ever dare. And much as I hate this place, especially with that arrogant young lordling in command of it, I’ve been here for years. I’ve got a respect in these walls that I wouldn’t have outside of it. All I know how to do is what I do here, and there’s no other stable that would have me. A woman, and a woman like me at that…”

Even to her own ears, the excuse felt weak, pathetically selfish. What was the loss of a position compared to brands and bruises? And the sick, shameful feeling intensified as she realized that she’d stepped away from him, out of reach, in case he erupted in the same savage fury she’d always been told his kind was made of.

He didn’t. There was nothing like anger, nothing even close to it, in his dark, deep-set eyes. “I’m only here because I didn’t want to put the others in danger,” he said softly. “When I leave here-“ she marked the slight emphasis on the when, as though he was forbidding himself to use any other word- “it won’t be because I put someone else in danger to do it. You’ve already done more than I thought anyone would do.”

“But far less than anyone should have done,” Cyra said. “Mark me, that’s the last time I head off to the fair, at least so long as you’re here. Duncan and the boys can go, if there’s a need. I may not be able to put an end to this completely, but I’ll do as much as I can.” She paused. “Has he…said anything? About why he wants you in the first place? I know Aubrey, and he only ever does anything to be remembered for it, but there are easier things he could have done, if that was all it was.”

The centaur’s brow furrowed a little; he spoke slowly, quizzically, as though what he was saying didn’t make sense even to him. “He sees me as a challenge,” he said. “That’s what he told me. He just didn’t realize I could understand.”

Cyra sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. It was nothing out of the norm for Aubrey, nothing even unexpected. But it was not, by any stretch of the imagination, good news, and in the end there was only one thing it could mean. “He’s going to break you,” she said, not even aware that she’d said it outside her own thoughts until the centaur answered her.

“Not for a long time,” he replied. “And not half as easily as he thinks.”

She smiled at that, the cynical, sardonic smile that found its way onto her face so often. She’d heard that many a time, from many a bright-eyed, confident young squire or serving girl, convinced they had what it took to make their life in this place. Manor life was no easy feat, even when the manor in question wasn’t one like Aurenside, and those who felt they had the special quality needed for it rarely turned out to be right.

That, though, she didn’t say out loud. Only occasionally did she bridle her tongue like that, but she was no fool. True as her doubts might be, there was simply no need for the centaur to hear them. “Hold on to that strength as long as you can,” was all she said instead. “I can tell you right off, you’re going to need it.”

Struck once again by the gravity of the situation, and how helpless either of them was to really change it, she looked about her again for something she could change, something that would mean something. For as long as she could remember, that had been her first instinct when the waters of life were rough. There were so many things she couldn’t do. It was only natural to focus on the many things she could.

“I’ve got to get up to the great hall,” she said. “They’ll be wondering where I am, at least if they’re not too drunk to notice I’ve come back. I’ll bring you something to eat as soon as I can do it without anyone seeing. You look as though you could do with it.” She paused. “Best not let on to anyone that I’m helping you. His Lordship won’t stand for that. And you’re going to need me, when things get worse.” Like him, she placed the emphasis on when, didn’t bother with if. There was no if with Aubrey Gravesend about.

“I’ll do what I can,” she promised. “It won’t be much, but I’ll do it, if only to spite him.”

The centaur nodded, though his eyes were distant. He was clearly preparing himself for whatever lay ahead, thinking of ways to steel himself to it. His pale hands were still wrapped around each other, tracing the raw, red lines left by the ropes. He didn’t bother answering, this time. They both already knew that whatever she could do, it would never be enough.

But it was something, and it was something more than either of them had had before.

#whump #whump writing #medieval whump #fantasy whump #nonhuman whump #centaur whump

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