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heyiwrotesomethings · 11 months

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DEMON SLAYER CUZ YESSSSSSSS.

shinobu x female reader

I wanna kick uzuis ass again soooooooo

Uzui is being a dick to everyone because he is in a mood and make fun of shinobu (u find the reason nth comes to mind rn) and the reader having an awful day herself kicks his ass and brings him to his wives "next time that disgrace you call a husband insults my soon to be wife again I'm gonna cut his tongue of and shove it so far up his ass it will come out of his mouth again 🙃

have a good day ladies oh and do keep him a check or I will 🙂 byeeeee"

gl finishing all of those rqst

Bad Morning

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: I don’t know what’s up with me, but this threat was a bit too descriptive for me and since this is like, at least the third time we’re beating Uzui up, this one is kind of lackluster, apologies! Hopefully I still got the message across lol. Hope you still like it! Word Count: ~1,220

Uzui Tengen woke up on the wrong side of the bed earlier that morning. Which was to say Suma had accidentally pushed Makio out of bed, which in turn lead to Makio dragging her out of said bed by the ankles in retaliation. Tengen tried his best to ignore them and focus on Hinatsuru’s cute mumblings as she turned to lay on her other side, but Makio’s growls and Suma’s cries made it downright impossible.

“Could you two keep it down, goddamnit! Why does this have to happen every morning?!”

“Maybe we should invest in a bigger bed.” Hinatsuru murmured, pressing a pillow over her head.

“Or we just make Suma sleep on the floor. She kicked me last night too and I have the bruise to prove it!” Makio pulled up the hem of her sleepware to show the bruise her thigh was sporting and Suma wailed.

“I’m sorry! Let me kiss it better! Don’t make me sleep on the floor Makio, please!”

“Nobody is sleeping on the floor!” Tengen groaned. “I’ll get a bigger bed, okay? Can I just get one more hour of sleep—“

“Caw!” Nijimaru came in through the window with flapping wings and rattling beads. A damn fine, flamboyant bird if Tengen did say so himself, but he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather see less at the moment. “You’ll be late for the meeting if you stay in bed any longer, Uzui!”

“Damn it all, that’s today?” Tengen shot out of bed, jamming his toe against the bedside table. He cursed and limped his way to the bathroom, now even more pissed because he would have to skip his morning skin care routine if he was going to make it to Oyakata-sama’s mansion in time.

He barely had enough time to bathe and put on his makeup before heading out the door. No time to even eat breakfast. At least Suma ran him some toast at the door and jumped up to give him a quick peck on the cheek. It certainly made up for the rude awakening at least, sweet girl.

Still, all the toast and kisses in the world couldn’t make him shake off the sour mood he was in. His morning routine was sacred. When his routine was disturbed, it honestly felt like his whole day was ruined.

People have bad days. It’s normal to maybe ask for a little space, to tell people you aren’t really feeling yourself, but the moment you use your bad morning as an excuse to be shitty to other people, then expect your day to get much, much worse.

“Iguro, come on man. Can you get your scrawny ass outta my way? Shouldn’t you be sitting like a broody tree’d raccoon by now?”

“We’re talking, walk around. It’s a fucking garden.” Sanemi was quick to shoot back as Obanai glared.

“Nobody can make anything easy today, can they?” Tengen sighed loudly, bumping into Sanemi as he walked past the two fuming men.

He rested in his usual spot, hoping to maybe get a little bit more sleep in before the Master arrived. However, Mitsuri was talking up a storm with Shinobu and (Y/n) and the excitement in her voice as she spoke made it hard for Tengen to relax.

“She made me dango for helping me get her cat out of the tree! Isn’t that great? It was really good too! And then—!”

“Gods, Kanroji,” Tengen groaned, “would it kill you to take a page out of Tomioka’s book and be quite for once?”

“Hey! What the hell is your problem?” (Y/n) scowled.

“Just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, it doesn’t give you license to make everyone else around you feel miserable as well.” Shinobu chimed in, she put a reassuring hand on Mitsuri’s shoulder while she gave Tengen a disapproving look.

“I’m gonna kill that bastard.” Obanai growled, Kaburamaru hissed in agreement.

“Perhaps you should take a page out of Tomioka-san’s book and butt out of conversations that have nothing to do with you, hm? Contrary to what your ego may tell you, the world does not revolve around you.” Shinobu added for good measure.

“Big words for somebody so small. I could crush you like a grape between my fingers.”

“Uzui, my friend! You should stop talking before you say something you’ll really regret!” Rengoku advised.

“So disgruntled,” Shinobu tisked pityingly, “Given how out of sorts you are this morning, I doubt you could even brush me with those meaty, perpetually sweaty hands.

Tengen took a deep breath through clenched teeth, but (Y/n) spoke up before him, her voice low, warning,

“Uzui-san, I’d listen to Rengoku-san if I were you. Act like an adult and let it go. With any luck, the meeting will be over in an hour and you can sleep the rest of the day away.”

“Tch,“ Tengen sneered, “how about this, you tell your little, and I do mean shrimpy, puny, girlfriend to zip it, and then I will too.”

“I am not her keeper.” (Y/n) said through gritted teeth.

“Well if she can’t keep her mouth shut, why should I?!”

“Ah, my deepest apologies, Uzui-san,” Shinobu began, not looking very sorry at all, “(Y/n) and I had a rather late night in the lab ourselves. My mistake for trying to hold you to the same standards we hold ourselves to.”

Tengen was seeing red. He wanted to wipe that perfect little smile right off of Shinobu’s face and before he could think better of it, he had thought of something to say that would hit her where it would hurt.

“Wipe that fake-ass smile off your face, little Kanae wannabe. You want to imitate her so bad, start by acting like less of a bitch maybe.”

Well, that sure made the smile fall from Shinobu’s lips. Her expression became impassive, an eerie blankness, but no one took the time to really notice because (Y/n) was already leaping to her feet, kicking up pebbles that scattered over Tengen’s thighs as she got closer.

“The fuck did you just say?!” Sanemi growled, his head snapping towards Uzui.

“Uzui-san, I know you can be abrasive, but that kind of talk is unacceptable.” Gyomei spoke up for the first time that day and that was how Tengen knew he might have really fucked up.

“Okay, okay, you are a fucking dead man now! I don’t give a damn about you not getting your beauty sleep, you wanna play nasty, we’ll play nasty alright!”

(Y/n) knew Shinobu could take care of herself, but she also knew that Uzui had hit a nerve. Like Shinobu had said, they had a tough night, tougher than Uzui’s, she imagined. She had been helping Shinobu with her latest experiment on her journey to find a poison that could end an Upper Moon.

Despite all of the promising research, the experiment had fallen flat, or well, more accurately caused a small explosion that (Y/n) and Shinobu spent the next three hours cleaning up after. Thankfully they had been wearing the proper gear during the whole ordeal, but they still smelt overwhelmingly of wisteria.

(Y/n) got close enough to Uzui that he could smell it on her and the potency stung his nose. She grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and he engulfed her wrist with his hand—

“Oyakata-sama is coming!” Mitsuri squealed, noticing two of the Master’s children leading him around the building. It must have been one of his good days and he decided to take a stroll.

“I’m not done with you.” (Y/n) hissed, letting go of Uzui’s uniform with a shove before quickly dropping to the ground.

“You’re like a yappy little dog,” he sneered, “All I gotta say is, ‘boo!’ and you’ll be shaking in your sandals.”

“The first thing I’m gonna do is cut out your own tongue and feed it to you, asshole.”

Tengen grit his teeth together. The Master was much too close now to continue trading vulgarities.

Tengen started out the meeting boiling hot, but listening to the Master speak had its usual calming affects and before Tengen knew it, he was in a relaxed, meditative state. It was the closest thing to sleep one could have while awake. It was like magic. The Master bid them all farewell and Tengen inhaled deeply, then released a relaxed exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders. He felt so much better—

(Y/n)’s fist came sailing at him with all the force of a mantis shrimp and she decked him, making direct contact with his temple.

“Alright Uzui, how about you and me go for a little stroll?” (Y/n) grunted, heaving the hulking man to his feet was no simple task, especially now that he was having a hard time standing up himself after that vision spotting hit. She turned to look back at Shinobu with adoration and concern, “Would you like to come along, dear?”

“I suppose.” Shinobu shrugged before rising to her feet as well. Truthfully, she didn’t want to have to look at Uzui for another minute, but if (Y/n) accidentally killed him, that would be one less Hashira and they were already spread thin enough as it was.

The remaining Hashira, that cared enough to, watched on as (Y/n) pulled Tengen away from the mansion by his ear, very thankful they weren’t in his shoes at that moment.

Tengen shuffled down the path, bending with (Y/n)’s sharp pushes and pulls while the two women discussed what they should eat for lunch. Sadistic beings…

Though it was hard for his eyes to focus because of that sharp punch to his temple, he soon recognized the scenery and realized (Y/n) was taking him home, to what end, he was afraid to find out.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” He heard (Y/n)’s muffled voice through the ringing in his ears.

“Oh gods, what did he do this time?” Makio groaned.

“(Y/n)-san, I don’t know what he did, but please, be a little more gentle with him.” Hinatsuru requested hesitantly.

She was hesitant because she knew her husband had a track record of saying or doing stupid things. Even Suma, the most sympathetic of the bunch, could agree that sometimes getting slapped around a little bit was warranted when it came to their husband’s unfiltered words and uncouth actions.

“Don’t worry, I caught him off guard with the first punch, so I didn’t go any further. I probably nearly fractured his skull since he didn’t think to defend himself at all, don’t you think so, Shinobu?”

“Oh yes, given how he’s been wobbling, and that he threw up in the bushes on the way here, it’s safe to say he would have been in real trouble if you had decided to keep going.”

Makio, Hina and Suma paled, quickly taking possession of their loopy husband when (Y/n) offered him to them. It was difficult to keep all that muscle up right, so they could only imagine just how furious (Y/n) was to have been able to basically drag him all the way home.

“The next time your disgraceful, woefully un-flamboyant husband says or does anything that hurts my fiancée, intentionally or not, he may not make it back to you in one piece. Understand?”

“Yes, we’ll talk to him. I’m sorry.” Hinatsuru hung her head low.

“You have nothing to apologize for, but when your husband snaps out of it, you might suggest he start looking for ways to atone because I’m not quite so sure I could hold myself back if I see him again too soon. That single punch was not satisfying at all.”

“We’ll work on it.” Makio swore.

“We promise! Please don’t kill him!” Suma sobbed.

“I won’t kill him, too much paperwork.” (Y/n) promised, then after a pause added, “Well, I wouldn’t kill him on purpose anyway.”

“Here,” Shinobu stepped up to the three horrified looking wives and handed Hinatsuru a small paper bag, “I suspect he has a concussion. I have provided all instructions and materials needed to give him proper treatment.”

“Thank you…” the three answered in unison.

Shinobu gave them a short nod of acknowledgment before linking back up with (Y/n). The two strolled off like nothing had happened, smiling and gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes as they disappeared over the hill.

“We need that new bed stat!” Suma said with an exhausted sigh as the trio dragged Tengen into the house.

“I think our dumbass husband needs a personality check more.” Makio grunted.

#demon slayer oneshots #kny oneshots #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #shinobu x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #shinobu kochou x reader #requests #anonymous

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soaringsearingphoenix · 1 year

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how do u prep for dnd i feel like i should be doing that before sessions

That's a great question! And it varies from GM to GM. If you're new to prep, it can be a little overwhelming - start with ONE thing you want to focus on (materials, scenery, voices, combat, lore) and play around with that; figure out your own preferences. I'll try to be comprehensive [aka i tend to ramble - I'll also try to format it so it's not just a wall of text.] If you already are confident about some of this stuff, great! But I hope some of it helps.

In my opinion, prep is as much about feeling prepared and confident as it is about having materials ready. Both are important! TL:DR; it's mostly about PRACTICE and ORGANIZATION.

I'm a person who tends to run a bit of a sandbox world, and trust that I'm prepared to improv a little when the players inevitably go 'off course'. But I have a lot of GM friends who are much further towards the "I like to have everything prepared, with a set map and a set understanding of IF you do this, THEN this will happen."

It can be a good idea to be honest with your players about what to expect - especially if you have new players, making sure they are prepared may be part of the process. Letting them know whether there will be combat, and whether there will be time in-game to prepare for it, can help a game run smoother. (I'll come back to that.)

Know how to use whatever resource you are using. If you are running a game, whether physically or digitally, figure out how you like to set up your area so that you know everything you need is within reach. If it is in person, make sure things like books and maps are all in once place ahead of time. If you are calling with Discord, you could make sure the server has a dice bot, or make sure any music bot you are using works properly. If you use roll20, google drive, or another site, you can upload maps, make sure they are aligned to the grid if they need to be, and play around with any other features it might have! There are some useful tools out there for GMs, and even just finding something to help you organize your notes can be huge. That could be a whole separate post.

If you're running a game from a module/pre-written materials, you want to spend the time reading through those materials. It's honestly a bit like studying in a class! Make sure you know some of the information, and know where to find the rest of it.

For familiarizing - whether I'm using a guide or writing it myself - I try to prioritize visual and narrative descriptions - practice narrating what your players 'see' when they enter an area, for example, so that you are prepared for any potentially unfamiliar or confusing words (I'm a pretty confident reader and I still stumble over things like "minute" [pronounced min-it] as in 60 seconds of time being spelled the same as "minute" [pronounced my-noot] as in tiny.

This goes for NPC voices too. If important plot information is being delivered via dialogue, say your line a couple times! If you are giving your characters specific voices, practice how you want their speech to sound! (I like to take notes for that too - this guy sounds "comfortable and friendly, like a dad at a barbecue". This woman sounds "like a librarian - pursed lips!" It can help to find a key phrase, gesture, or posture that helps you get into character. I really enjoy doing NPCs, so I tend to start with that, but not every campaign has a heavy focus on them.

Keywords can help you give 'character' to your environments, too. This foggy coast might be ominous, so I want to narrate it in an ominous voice. This tavern may be comforting - it's warm, so I'll narrate it in a warmer tone. Listening to your own voice ahead of time can help you set the mood you want a scene to have.

You may also want to try to anticipate player questions. This gets easier with experience. If you have a wizard who likes to look for spell components, expect "could I find a sprig of mistletoe?" when the narrative takes them to the forest. If you have a rogue who really leaned into the thief archetype, expect "is anything on the table small enough to fit in my pocket?" If they encounter a dog, no matter how menacing, expect that someone is probably going to ask if they can try to befriend it. Knowing what your players enjoy, and what their goals are, can give you a better sense of how to anticipate their responses to what you throw at them.

If there is going to be combat, puzzles, or obstacles, have stat blocks you may need available. If they are in a book/ on a web page, BOOKMARK THEM. If not, write them down!

I have found it very useful to get note cards, and write a 'cheat-sheet' with some basic stats down from my players' character sheets. My current version (for D&D - other systems have other stats) includes their max HP, AC, passive Perception, base stats, languages, and their main weapon - anything I might otherwise have to ask them about, I like to have in front of me. It's not uncommon for a GM to say "What's your AC?" when they roll an attack against a PC, but I often have newer players, and I like being able to say "You're using a short sword - that's 1d6 of damage, plus your strength is +2" right away.

Even if your players are experienced, knowing what they are capable of as their GM helps you write challenges that they are appropriately equipped to solve. If your party has a lot of spell casters, maybe give them a puzzle about solving runes to get into a locked chamber. If there are a lot of fighters and barbarians, maybe the barrier is clearing a rock slide, or scaling a wall, or fighting a guard. Give the players chances to show off the things their characters are good at!

I also make note cards for any monsters in combat, and use my note cards to keep track of initiative order in combat, by putting them in an ordered pile - that way I have the stats for whoever's turn it is right in front of me when their turn comes up. But that's just my personal preference, and many GMs I know will use an online initiative tracker (roll20 has one built in!)

Having stats ready and accessible is so helpful. For some GMs, (and some players!) being familiar with the combat they have planned IS what prep is all about! Even if you're a more narrative-focused GM, read through monster stats in advance - I've run some combats that were harder than I realized because I went "ooh, fire mephits sound cool! I could put some fire enemies in an abandoned forge" and didn't consider the fact that they also explode when they die and damage anything within 5ft of them...

and that most of my players were melee fighters.

Oops! Lesson learned. Which brings me back to working with your players and their abilities.

One of the simplest things you can do to prep is to remind your players that the game is coming up, and to make sure they've done anything they need to do. Just a "Hey, we're playing tomorrow. Do you have any questions for me?" Being approachable to your players helps you get to know them, and in turn helps you anticipate what they will respond to. Plus, asking "Would you like any help leveling up your character? If not, may I see what new things you chose when you leveled up?" when relevant gives you an opportunity to get more familiar with their character sheets.

I hope that helps! If you have any other questions, if I can elaborate on anything here, or if there is another GM-ing related topic you would like my thoughts about, let me know!

#my advice #about me #gm tips #rpgs #thanks for asking!!#long post

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scorchedhearth · 9 months

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14, 18, 33, 65 for the fic writer asks!!! <3 <3

<333

14 how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

i do need to get in the right mood, i can write action and character study scene more easily, but if it's a scene loaded emotion-wise i need to get a good feel for it. not necessarily feeling what the character feel, but i need to feel calm in order to properly focus and get the emotions i want across well. i dont usually draw from personal experience, more so the physical reaction i have or have seen others have. it's a surprise to no one that i mostly use the body, body language and interaction between bodies in my stories so that's usually what i focus on. i dont do well with dragging along monologue or description, i mostly use body reactions and physical feelings to add to the emotions of the scene. i dont believe u have to know the scene personally to be able to write it, and in general i avoid publishing work with scenes or situations that feel too close to things i've lived myself, it doesn't feel right, that's not why i write

18 Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

usually after, very rarely during. titling my piece is a harrowing process that i loathe because to me titles are important so i need to find the right one to show off the general atmosphere of the fic, so it's usually rough. i sit down and stare at my doc and try dozen and dozen of titles, but sometimes inspiration strike while writing. i used to favor very long titles but now they annoy me lol i like to keep them under three words, i find it more impactful that way, and i try to go with something related to the theme, maybe a play on word, or a reference to an important element

33 Do you want to be published some day?

not for my fics, they are purely for fandom spaces, but i do think of being published one day. it's not gonna happen anytime soon, as of now i cannot let anyone see my original work, it feels too intimate, much less try and get it published and read by the masses, but i think i'd like that eventually, when (if) im ready to

65 Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

there's this one scene in a wip i haven't talked about here that i cannot wait to be able to write. it's at the end of a long and heavy build-up, and if i pull this off and do it right, it's gonna be the perfect encapsulation of the calm after the storm. i really want to capture this feeling of utter hollowness after a very rough fight where things get silent all of sudden and ur sitting in it wondering where do u go from here. i wanna see the pressure grow and grow for pages and mount to a catastrophic end except it's no tragic end, just a mundane one. things are horrifying and destructive and u wreak havoc and then u stand in the debris and have to make the choice to walk away from it

fic writer asks

#asks #derelictship

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smooth-goat · 2 years

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1, 3, 4, 7, 8, 9, 10 (is it hats? 👀), 11, 14, 15, 16, 19, 20, 21, 26, 30 sorry for so many lol

aafjdskal thank u for so many !! its totally fine and encouraged in fact

Art programs you have but don't use

I still have the downloads for a full adobe suite--I needed them for college. But I've since let my subscriptions lapse when I dropped out.

3. What ideas come from when you were little?

I've had this one novel idea bouncing around in my head since I was eleven, where in the 1300s this massive trade city in modern-day Pakistan was set under strict quarantine as the Black Plague came over from the Gobi Desert westward. Years pass, better trading routes are found, and the city is lost--except the survivors of the plague's descendants still inhabit it as a small village, unknown to the outside world. Now, around 1909, a disgraced Russian archaeologist and his niece go down to this lost city in hopes of saving his job, only to find there's still people there. The story is about the little family hosting them and the line between academic study and colonialism. It's always been on a back burner because any real development would require paid consultants, but I do privately write little things for it.

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

Hmmmm I think young children. I don't have a lot of experience drawing them so it's a struggle for me to communicate their age with proper proportions.

7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate

Digital, really. I do work in it sometimes but really only when making animatics/animation, since I don't have a cost-effective setup to do so otherwise.

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in?

A few years ago, I spent a great deal of time on an animatic for TAZ Balance set to "Ball Cap" by Mother Mother. I had almost the whole thing in rough boards but lost steam refining them.

9. What are your file name conventions?

Just a brief description, mostly. Not really ever a proper ~artsy~ title. Examples would include "Sea Lion.jpeg" or "sisu v_01.png" the "v_01" stands for "version 1". For animatics I put keep everything in the auto-generated folders and just rely on the little image preview to keep things straight. My writing is filed under the actual published title, or a wip title. An example of that would be "moominpappa gets wrecked.docx" which, if properly titled, would surely be turned into something more moody and pretentious.

10. Favorite piece of clothing to draw

Yes it is hats!! For technical or research aspects I love all sorts of different clothing. When I'm working out clothing patterns I love figuring out complex construction details like 1890s cycling skirts or the flap neckline in the Herjolfsnes find undershirt. But strictly drawying: it's hats. The swoopy lines are so much fun and they add so much character and mood.

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what?

I am a creature of ADHD; I have to have something on when I'm drawing. Sometimes it's a youtube video that I'm just listening to. I also have Spotify playlists I've made for different characters or relationships or AUs I have. I've spent most of my time on the Hunter animatic listening to Innuendo Studios' series "The Alt-Right Playbook".

14. Any favorite motifs?

No shocker here: disability. In my more private drawings I focus a lot on chronic pain and interactions with the inaccessible physical world. I'm also a sucker for Victorian floriography, as anyone who's browsed my ao3 works' titles could notice. Also in unpublished works (visual and written) I like working in the intersection of disability and sex. About how the body moves in sexual acts, how to accommodate for disability, the extreme vulnerability sex places on a disabled person, and the interaction of pain and pleasure that happens when sex is a physically painful act.

15. *Where* do you draw?

For digital art I have this whole setup at my desk, where the drawer is pulled out for my tablet and my laptop on the desk proper--all for Good Grade In Occupational Therapy purposes. (really because I'm 5'2 and the height of the chair I'd need to comfortably draw on the desk doesn't let my feet touch the floor). Sketching I do on the couch or in bed. I bring my sketchbook around a lot and will do it on the go. Sometimes when I'm going on drives, I pull over with a good vista and draw there sitting on the hood.

16. Something you are good at but don't really have fun doing

colored pencil!! 1000%. i do Not like working with colored pencils. The grip required for them is too small without buying a separate grip, which I have to take off and on every time I switch colors, which is Often. and they work sooo slowlyyyy. i like media like watercolor, oil, and markers--stuff that lays down lots of color quickly and can be refined later. i like a certain messiness or rawness. paint impasto, visible canvas grain, fingerprints, water splotches, etc

19. Do you eat/drink when drawing? If so, what?

Not always sketching because I'll do that in lots of places. Digitally yes always. I know I shouldn't because of the spill risk but I am a simple man and I always need to have a little drink. Usually soda or hibiscus La Croix.

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy

I really like drawing hands! I know they're the classic artists' bane but sux to be you because I have lots of fun with them. (For the longest time I thought I was messing them up because I'd use my own hands as reference and they'd come out looking Wrong. Years later I've realized the Wrongness I was seeing was a combination of my hypermobility and large arthritis knuckles.)

21. Art styles nothing like your own but like anyways

oh, lots! the hyper-stylized, cartoony stuff is so interesting to me. the functions of digital art are largely a mystery to me so it's just fascinating how well people use the medium. Especially the color-block lineless art that reminds me of papercut art. And I've always enjoyed how the Professor Layton games approached character design--a great deal of stylization and caricature which is so different from my own drawings of people. i also really enjoy 17th century english woodblock prints. when i paint its usually kind of impressionistic with lots of blurry lines, so the stark black and white and geometric shapes they have is so different and cool to me.

26. What's a piece that got wildly different interpretation from what you intended?

wrt art I can't really think of any! most of the finished pieces I've done were for classes and therefore weren't highly-creative projects open to a great degree of interpretation.

wrt writing For Sure that time i got accused of being a pro-lifer when I wrote "Ginger Tea and Parsley Oil" lmao. i have no idea how any competent reading of the text would come to that conclusion

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated?

wrt my visual art, most of it isn't published online but rather shared in art classes or with friends. In those cases, I think the response was pretty appropriate relative to time spent and my own opinions of it. From what's been posted online, definitely my icon! I probably spent 50 hours on that drawing cause it's actually two complete drawings laid on top of each other, with the top one torn to reveal the sepia one beneath. But ain't that just the way--whatever you spend the most time on will never get as much acclaim as what you only spend a few minutes sketching. wrt my writing, most underrated is probably "Black Cohosh". It's the piece with the second-lowest hit count but also one of my favorites. I get why it's low--it's dark and moody in a fandom that enjoys fluff and focuses a lot on canon/oc interaction. But I really love it fjdskla

#long post #birdsong #ask meme #asked and answered

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kdyism · 2 years

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Um Hi!this may be little inappropriate to ask but I'm just so curious about how you write you're blog or fanfiction poetically,if you're curious..english is my third language which I'm really bad at it and i really want to improve.plus writing a good poem or novel is one of my dream which i would like to succeed so...can u sow me ways to improve in writing poetically?

Oh and all of your works are amazing,i will always support u😍

aw thank you for liking my works, i am grateful <3

it's okay to ask, i don't mind. but i don't really have useful advice. for one, english is my first language so i can't explain anything technical bc i don't know grammar lol.

one way that helps me write, in my more like (pretentious) poetic kind of fics is vocabulary, just know or keep a catalogue of many words to use, rhyme or contrast. use sounds, i tend to like having my sentence or paragraphs end or begin with a certain word or sound. it makes reading it more deliberate? i find myself reading and rereading those kind of lines and a mood is set unconsciously because of it. this thing is a literary device called alliteration uuuhh basically like the first letter of the words used are the same? like below

ex. the fleeting feeling of forever found in the forefront of love.

the sound of the letter f is the cause of the impact in this and the ve in the end of love is an assonance, it makes the same sound as f.

this device is really easy to use and makes a dull work seem a little more poetic because well, we can rhyme and hear the sounds we are making using the words, having a lot of vocabulary will help find more words you can use to fulfill the purpose you want it to.

i might overuse use it but jdjsjd i like alliteration.

another way i make my writing more not basic plot and go is by description? but not like physical, real descriptions. i like describing the way the scene feels for the character who is in focus in the same way you would a memory or a person. i think this device is what they call personification? but it gives the basic wordings emotion and intimacy because now its feels a little more alive. imagine yourself in the situation or the feeling you are trying to express and write down what your reaction is and now that is the base of your line before you can start embellishing it with nicer or prettier way to say the same thing.

i also use metaphors, sparringly because i am not good with those. but if you want to describe something without using physical descriptors that are real in the scene, you can use metaphors to describe them. i read my own words sooo much it starts annoying me but at a certain point, i start feeling my word writing and that's where i try to reach with all my writing.

ADDITIONAL: i find for myself, i don't know if this is legit advice or a good trick but theme. i alwaaaays chose a theme before writing. or else i write the first scene and decide on a theme based on it. the theme provides continuity, a semblance of subtext even. leaving emotional beats you can bring back later, things that will move the plot forward. i find having a theme on hand, beforehand, always makes continuity easy for me because otherwise, the spaces between the scenes + emotions is just empty. so to bring them together, the theme is the overarching message or main point/conflict of the story.

i want my fics to be fics i would also read, so don't try to please anyone but yourself with your writing in the beginning. others liking it too is a just a lucky bonus until you know you can accept praise without doubting yourself.

i hope this was helpful, i learnt some of these devices at school but never realized how much i have been using it. you should keeep writing and writing and writing and fixing the things that feel iffy to you, eventually you will get to a point you are satisfied with it.

i hope your dream will come true someday! even i hope to release an original someday <3

#💌.asks #i hooope hope hope this was helpful

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jade-parcels · 3 years

Note

omg! could u do a part 2 of “how u turn them on” but w more genshin boys like kazuha, thoma, gorou, etc? :))

How you turn them on! Pt 2

With Kazuha, Gorou, Tohma, Dottore and Dainsleif

Part one here!

- NOTSFW!! Minors don’t interact with this post! -

——————————

Kazuha:

Kazuha has a way with words, he can paint a picture in your mind with pretty words alone, his hot breath traveling across your cheek as he whispers to you

So it’s no surprise that if you can dirty talk well, like…really well, that’ll immediately get him in the mood. Especially if you two can get some dirty back-and-forth going on, each of you getting more vulgar in your descriptions as you converse

Pulling him aside while you travel, whispering in his ear and pushing your knee between his legs…He could never refuse a quickie in a bush or under a beautiful sakura tree

Sex with him is never quiet, he wants you to narrate how you feel as he pleasures you or the other way around. If you were to describe, in great detail, how you love him as you pleasure him…he dissolved into a blushing, moaning mess. For once, he’s at a loss for words as he listens to you and loses himself in your touch and warm mouth

It’s either just your voice or the way you speak that gets him going, he loves when your voices takes on that low, sultry tone….

Gorou:

Obviously he’s into master and pet/servant play… He’s totally devoted to you and he wants you to own him, to use him how you want. Gorou gets pleasure from giving. He’s your sweet puppy who’d do anything go make you happy!

He wants your praise constantly, he’s happy to help with commissions, with cooking, with anything you need!! And when you call him to bed and spread your legs for him, he’s eager to satisfy you with his skillful tongue

“You’re so good for me, Go~” you moan, running your fingers through his hair, his ears twitching at the contact “Anything for you master~” he murmurs against your skin

Turning him on is so easy…Poor guy. You could just look at him a certain way and he’d have a tent in his pants. Gorou is energetic and very responsive, using that to your advantage would truly ruin him. In a good way!

Back to praise and rewards, he doesn’t expect you to reward him for being good but when you do, he is sooo appreciative. He’s so vocal and his expressions are the cutest ;) he loves you so much!! He’ll tell you that ten thousand times as you reward him by riding him or edging him for hours

Tohma:

Your hands, he loves them. He watches how you wield your weapon, how you use chopsticks, how you lick your fingers when you eat…he’s a goner

Tohma usually ignores it in public but you’ve caught him many times looking you over, he isn’t as slick as he thinks he is lmao

He wants those hands on him, tying him up, cupping his cheeks, running over his thighs…He wants to watch as you pleasure yourself and lick your cum off your fingers

Another fantasy if his is you tying him up and blindfolding him so all he can focus on is you, where you’re touching, how you sound, how you smell, he’s ultra tuned into your actions and desire. He loves the thrill of the unexpected!

He’s a simple man! He wants 3 things! Your hands, your ass and your thighs! That’s it!! He is so easy to please!!! Tohma can’t keep his hands to himself ever, he loves touching you and wants you to touch him too

Dottore: (tw for….Dottore things)

One word: fear

First, Dottore is a madman. He’s legitimately insane so when he’s having a bad day and comes to harass you and you’re genuinely afraid of what he might do to you? It starts off as funny, he laughs his terrible, unhinged laugh…But then it’s arousing. The way you tremble before him on your knees, begging him not to sink his scalpel into your skin…Well, seeing you so vulnerable really gets him going

He’ll position himself so you’re on the floor beneath his feet, one foot on the ground and one on your chest to keep you on the floor. He’ll brace his hand against the wall and use the other to jerk himself off, grinning at you, telling you how gorgeous you look with that scared look on your face! Then he cums on your pretty face, spits on you and walks away laughing again

He doesn’t want you to be afraid of him all the time, it kinda gets old after awhile then he’s just annoyed with you but when he’s lost in his own blood lust and fumes from his lab, he finds he has the most satisfying orgasms in the world

Dottore also loves seeing you devote yourself to him, seeing you stay at his side no matter what and offer your body to him when he’s especially stressed or in a bad mood. He may even be gentle with you if he’s feeling generous but even that has its limits “That’s right~ You’re mine, doll~” he marks you up and makes you wear your hair up so everyone can see his sharp teeth marks all over your skin

Dainsleif:

Dain is an abyss knight with no one to serve, he feels that emptiness inside him, a hole he desperately wants to fill so he can feel whole again

When you rely on him, seek him out for help or even just invite him to dinner, he’s overjoyed (not that he shows it) it’s been so long since he’s had friends let alone someone to love

Therefore he is beyond touch starved. The littlest touches from you self electricity though his body. He’s had a couple flings here and there over his centuries of life but nothing has ever stood out. Not before you

What gets him hot under the collar is the thought of the two of you taking it slow, having a romantic night together. That’s kinda cheesy but after he met you, he found himself jacking off to this fantasy

He imagines the two of you in your room, dimly lit by candles. He’s deep inside your warm, welcoming body, gazing down into your eyes as you make love. Dain wants this so desperately, he always feels lonely and ashamed after these nights alone with his hand

He craves emotional and physical intimacy so badly man…

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dracowars · 2 years

Note

helloooo. i loooove ur draco fics! i do a lil happy dance whenever i see u posted one hshsisix. can i request an imagine where post war!reader and draco r like co-workers and are rivals and they end up eating at a restaurant (up 2 u how they end up there hehe) and they pretend to have an engagement or draco proposes or sumn like that so that they could get a discount LMAO ik draco’s rich enough to buy the whole restaurant but i saw a tiktok and i thought it was rlly cute lolol thANKS I LUV UR WORKS!!

play pretend | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,4k

summary: where draco and y/n pretend to have an engagement

a/n: uni is so freaking exhausting, i can't wait to finally have holidays again :(

warnings: cursing

universe: harry potter

Your day really could not have been worse. First you overslept this morning, which subsequently made you show up late to work, then the little café where you temporarily found a part-time job was overcrowded and of course, a tray you were carrying fell on the floor shortly before the café closed. And as if all of this was not enough to call today the worst day in world history, after work your boss immediately asked you to spy on the restaurant, which only recently opened on the other side of the street.

Together with your dearest and beloved co-worker, Draco Malfoy.

The fact that you are now sitting at a small table across from him in the late evening absolutely does not improve your mood at all, especially not when you think about how you could already be lying in your cozy bed by now and also not when a specific someone hardly seems to care about the whole situation.

“What are you taking?”, Draco asks you, disinterest more than obvious in his voice, which makes you wonder why he is even asking you in the first place. It is not like you came here to talk. That bastard noticed your bad mood right away and is now having the time of his life by annoying you even more and overworking your leftover patience.

“The recommendation of the day. It does not matter anyway, we are just here to find out why the restaurant is doing so well so quickly”, you answer without any emotion, closing the menu loudly so that you draw the attention of the couple at the table next to you for a second.

“Not that hurts me deeply. I thought this was our first date”, he replies cheekily and looks at you over the edge of the menu, his gaze unidentifiable.

“Hah! You wish”, you roll your eyes and try not to get involved in his stupid games. You have had a shitty day anyway, you will not give him the satisfaction of being the reason your day is getting even worse - if that is even possible.

“What can I bring the two of you?”, the waiter finally announces when he comes to your table. After you have placed your order, he walks away, leaving you alone with Draco once again, but this time without the distraction that the menu was.

“Did you dress yourself so beautiful for me today?”, Draco picks up the conversation again and as suspected, it is with a snarky remark. However, once you realize his words, you only now notice the brownish stain that the coffee, which flew to the ground along with the tray earlier, has left on your blouse. Embarrassed, you cross your arms to shield your body from greedy looks – including Draco’s.

“You are absolutely annoying”, you put on a fake smile, which Draco immediately replies with pleasure, seemingly pleased with the description. The satisfied grin on his face, on the other hand, only makes you angrier.

“Keep your mouth shut.”

“I am not saying anything!”

“Your face says it all. This grin of yours is really disgusting, almost unbearable”, you choke and for a moment you think you see a shift in his expression. The next second, however, his grin only widens, which is why you roll your eyes and focus your gaze on the people outside walking through the rain.

Not long after that, your steaming dishes stand on the table, and you have to honestly admit that it smells and looks damn good. Not only that, it also tastes delicious. No wonder that this restaurant is already so busy after a week, the food here is heavenly and lets you forget your bad day for a brief moment.

At least until your gaze falls on the man in front of you again.

“Stop watching me eat”, you sigh in annoyance and let your fork sink, not continuing to eat as long as he stares at you.

“I just wanted to look out for you. Not that you stain your blouse even more”, he winks at you before he casually starts to eat. Fighting an internal battle with yourself, you try not to freak out any moment. You agree with yourself that you will try to eat quickly so that this will end very soon, because you cannot take him for any longer.

“And what do we tell our boss now? That the restaurant is much better than his café and that he can actually just give up and close it right away?”, Draco mentions after he has emptied his plate and looks at you with that annoying grin again.

“No idea, you can tell him if you want”, you reply sweetly. “When you are done, I would like to pay now.”

“Did you already have enough of me? Am I wasting your precious time?”, Draco laughs briefly, but already waves one of the waiters over to you.

“I think you know the answer to that question”, you answer irritably. When you cannot seem to find your walled in your pocket in the next moment, however, you suddenly feel really sick. You left it at home this morning in your hurry. Which would not have been a problem on a normal day since you always go home straight away after work. But it had to happen today, of course.

“Can you pay?”

Visible shock spreads all over your face as you say these words at the exact same time as Draco does, looking at each other with widened eyes.

This cannot be true.

“You go to a restaurant with no money?!”, you whisper yell at him to attract as little attention as possible.

“And what did you do?! I thought I could rely on you for once!”

“Excuse me? Usually you can rely on me, but today is an exception!”

“Oh, is it now?”

“Yes! And now think of something clever so that we do not get into serious problems right away”, your urge him angrily, your patience now actually at the end. The waiter, who now joins you and puts the receipt on the table, lets your breath get caught in your throat. You have a very big problem.

What you did not expect when you asked Draco to come up with something to get out of this situation is that he suddenly gets up and kneels down next to you, as if …

“Dearest Y/N, I have been waiting for this one very special moment for a very long time and now it has finally come. After all our years together, I would like to finally ask you this question: Will you marry me?”, Draco says and suddenly all of the attention is on you and only you. Not only do his words feel so sincere, but they also trigger something inside of you. Unsure how to react to his proposal, you only understand his plan after he gives you a subtle sign with his eyes.

“Y-Yes! Of course I want to!”, you reply quickly, rather inauthentically, but nobody seems to notice or pay attention to it. The entire restaurant suddenly cheers and even the boss comes in to congratulate the both of you. And as if that were not enough, he does not want you to pay for anything.

It takes a while before you can tear yourself away from them and finally disappear out of the restaurant, but as soon as you step outside the door and into the cold night, you both fall into a fit of laughter at the same time.

“That was the craziest thing I have ever done!”, you laugh, your hand on your stomach which is already aching from laughing so hard.

“Did you see their faces? I should become an actor!”, Draco replies with a giggle, his laugh so beautiful as you have rarely heard anyone laugh like this. So pure and, overall, real.

“It was brilliant”, you smile at him and for a brief moment you look at each other in silence. The rain has become less in the meantime and only lightly drips onto you from the grey clouds. Even though it is cold outside, you feel a pleasant warmth inside of you, until he nervously averts his gaze, coughing.

“W-Well, I have to go now”, he clears his throat, and it seems as if he does not quite know how to behave now that he basically asked you to marry him.

“It is fine. See you tomorrow?”, you ask, somehow hopeful, and when he nods, you cannot suppress a happy smile.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See you tomorrow, Draco. Maybe you are not that bad after all.”

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filthforfriends · 3 years

Text

On the Kitchen Table

From that Thomas prompt you saw yesterday

ITS DONE BITCHES

Thomas x reader

Word count: 5279

Prompt: "can u imagine the reader and thomas “hating” each other (mainly cause of them wanting to deny the sexual tension and being attracted to one another) so they’re constantly trying to rile each other up until they get into a huge argument over idfk led zeppelin over some other band but it gets really heated and he kisses her"

TW: sex, swearing, angst, conflict

@mywritingonlyfans @damianof @starlettescarlet @cheese-toastie-11 @thomasraggilovebot @mariedeangelis @bjjkko

I doubt that Thomas’s knew how poorly this reflected on your fucking career. No one had an issue with you, absolutely no one, except him. Thomas who wasn’t just Thomas, but was an extremely valuable artist. Famous, profitable, marketable, and actually talented. A rockstar who gave a fuck. He had the kind of aesthetic you could sell, make a line of clothing from, and have him be the face for. He had an identity on social media which was beloved and totally devoid of controversy, making him a valuable influencer. And it was all genuine. Thomas was ¼ of a band that could push out two platinum albums and two tours in a year, Lauded, beloved, capable, and bullet proof. You had to mitigate all the companies that wanted his signature on a contract, all while lovely little Thomas made your life immeasurably difficult.

“I literally didn’t order this. This is not even remotely what I ordered.” He threw the plastic fork at the container, tipping it over, spilling the contents on the studio floor. Thomas signed like that was your fault too, but at least had the decency to turn back and start picking up the chunks of roasted vegetables. Leo was a good boss, and you had come into this knowing that you'd be doing the grunt work he had a few years ago. So you ran to grab some stain remover for the sake of the studio carpet.

“Back in one sec!”

“Oh yeah, don’t bother helping or anything!” He jeered, just as you ran back into the room with a tub of cleaning supplies you kept in the cabinet right next to the studio entrance. Leo had complained of red wine mishaps during late night writing sessions, so you had been proactive.

“Sorry” you responded automatically, reverting into your customer service voice. You wished you could tell him to fuck off, especially when he rolled his eyes at your apology. “I was getting cleaning supplies so the sauce doesn’t stain the carpet.” You fumbled to put the pieces of yam and squash back in the takeout container so you could just go throw the whole mess in the trash. Your hands kept bumping into Thomas’s as he did the same. It was awkward but you still enjoyed the skin to skin contact way too much, but that was only because you were touched starved.

“Hey, stop, I'll do it. It's my fault I’ll do it!” He said, growing angry as he helped grab chucks of eggplant off the floor. You noticed the thick gold ring on his right hand catching the light. The ring that pulled focus semi-permanently enough to make you think about his fingers in the shower.

“Its okay, this is my job,” you retorted, glaring at his handsome features while he scowled back at you. You tried not to notice the heat from his body or how proximity pulled you. “I’ll clean it, just let me do it.”

“Cleaning is not in your job description , y/n.” Thomas was the only person whose mood was soured by not having to do house work.

“I think I know my role here Thomas, so if you’ll just let me-”

“Stop! Just Stop! Let me do it for fucks sake,” he snapped, raising his voice. You had to focus all your energy on keeping the tears from your eyes. Thomas had truly yelled at you, six inches from your face. The room was quiet in a way that made you realize the other band members had been chattering before. Because this dynamic between her and Thomas was just the norm.

Being yelled at by men was your weak spot, ever since your father did it when you would make the tiniest mistake as a child. It didn’t matter the content, the volume triggered some trauma response. You would have to get over it if you were to work with celebrities, but right now you aren't. Right now you were crying in front of a band you were supposed to personally assist. In celebrity management, you had to take the high road, every single time, without fail, until your toes were all blisters. You felt blistered in this moment, with your head ducked to hide that Thomas had hit a nerve, because that was unprofessional. What was also unprofessional was your inability to speak as you left the room.

Thomas being a brat was old news, he liked to challenge you on small things. He’d hold your gaze like he wanted to eat you alive and despite your best efforts to the contrary, you wanted to slap him lightly then kiss him hard. You’d remind yourself that being attracted to Thomas actually made you normal, not the exception. He was an Italian sex symbol and obvously wouldn’t have become so popular if he didn’t have mass appeal. You were simply recognizing his mass appeal. At least that's what you told yourself. However, there was a moment between his petty provocation and your emotional reaction. In that moment the air was so charged you thought he might electrocute you or find the nearest horizontal service, put three fingers inside you, and make you beg for his cock.

This heavy sexual tension had never been squashed by Thomas’s behavior, because it was never severe enough.Always the push of his pettiness and the pull of your chemistry. But shouting didn’t feel like a game, this felt like a knife to the gut. Your mental space had gone from unsustainable to unstable. You couldn’t feel this way, no job was worth your mental health. So you steeled yourself to finish the day with grace, then you’d talk to Leo.

A knock on the front door startled you, and you realized that Damiano’s and Ethan’s lunch orders had arrived. So that will be the first thing you do now that you’ve decided it's your last day: feed the band. You bring in Dami’s and Ethans food and decide to play the perfect part.

“Here you go guys,” you say brightly. “Victoria let me look at the delivery tracking, and yes it's almost here!” The feeling in the air is heavy, and you feel vindicated that the others had called out Thomas for being an asshole. “Okay so Thomas would you like to order something else for lunch?” You stayed cheerful as you stooped to pick up the old container of his rejected lunch. You spray down the carpet with stain remover, acting as though nothing had happened. If emotional compartmentalization was a sport you’d be an Olmpian. “All right, so I’ll finish cleaning that when you’re out of the studio. Thomas can I get you anything else?”

“No, thanks y/n” he replied. You’d expected him to mumble it, slumped over and avoiding eye contact. Instead he met your eyes and was so somber and apologetic that you wanted to throw out every bad memory and climb onto his lap to tell him everything was all right. You don’t realize how dark a room is until the light is turned on. It was the same thing for our eye contact. You didn’t realize how much Thomas had been avoiding sustained eye contact until this moment when he held your gaze like he was holding your hand.

“Okay, good luck writing.” When you closed the heavy studio door, you pledged to yourself that you would not waver from this position.Undoubtedly, you and Thomas had the chemistry to be lovers in another life. However, the fact that you were so physically close in this one and he couldn’t bring himself to be welcoming was all the more reason to leave.

You pulled your suitcase out from the bottom of the closet and put it on your bed. It felt impossibly heavy and the thought of packing it was exhausting. It was as if all your energy had been drained and you were simply a shell of yourself, staring into the gaping mouth of your suitcase. You decided to text Leo that you needed to talk to him later and busy yourself with some ornate dinner.

Packing after dinner felt more manageable, but it still made you sorrowful. Being a nomad was hard, and you loved this place. You didn’t want to fail your employer or your client and this was both. It was so suboptimal you wanted to just bite the bullet and stay anyway, just ride it out. But oh, mental health is such a fickle thing and you couldn’t put yours at risk.

“Hey, Leo. Sorry to call on short notice.” It was nice to talk to a person with whom I have much fewer pretences.

“Hello, y/n it sounds like you’ve had an awesome day,” Leo answered sarcastically.

“Is it that obvious in my voice?”

“Well, that, and I heard from the band.” You cursed yourself. All you needed was a shitty report from a shitty band member for your file. Not only did it piss you off that the band had gone over your head to complain to you about Leo, but it made you nervous.

“I suppose that if I get fired I was wanting to leave anyway.”

“Oh no, they don’t want to fire you! They were worried they’d offended you.” Then why did they say absolutely nothing about it during dinner?

“I wouldn’t know, no one has spoken to me.” Lovely, they’ve expressed regret to Leo, but not me. Maybe none of them like me and Thomas is the only one to show it. Maybe they want Leo back.

“Sometimes they speak without speaking, you know? You have to pay attention. There is a reason that they are musicians.“

“I do all my duties, I don’t know how I could pay them more attention.”

“You should ask them.”

“Look Leo, I don’t want to disappoint you but I’m done. I’m packing, I need to leave. I will buy my own plane ticket if I have to. I know how it's going to look professionally, but I don’t care, living here is excruciating. I know I’ll have to deal with difficult clients and I can do that. I can do mood swings and perfectionism and arrogance, but I can’t deal with someone repeatedly targeting their negative energy at me specifically. I shouldn’t have to.”

“You’re right y/n, you shouldn’t have to. I guess Thomas was right when he said he took it too far this time.”

“Thomas, talked to you? He talked to you about me?” You could hear Leo cursing himself on the other end of the line, realizing he said something he shouldn’t have.

“Look I’ve been a mentor for Thomas since he was 16, we’ve been friends a long time. He’s a really sweet kid, but he’s not very emotionally articulate.” Sweet kid. Where is this sweet, sensitive kid, talking to Leo because he’s worried he’s hurt my feelings?

“Leo I really don’t know what to say other than we know very different Thomas’s. I genuinely don’t know the person you’re describing. Like I’m not trying to insult his character, I’ve just never met the person you’re talking about.”

“Well I guess that Thomas has made an ass of himself as much as he described, in which case you have every right to leave.”

“What about my resume? I have a bunch of crappy reports, then it says I didn’t fulfill my contract. No one is going to hire me!”

“Y/n…” Leo began slowly, “Maneskin has never given you a report that didn’t sing your praises. If it weren’t for the Thomas of it all, they’d want to keep you on for the tour.”

“What the fuck?” you thought, clapping your hand over your mouth when you realized you’d said it out loud to your boss. “Sorry, but I can’t believe I’m not touring Europe because Thomas doesn’t like me.” Truly, what could you have done to this man?

“No, no, it's the other way around. They didn’t ask you to go on tour because Thomas thinks you don’t like him, and doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Well yeah I don’t like him, obviously. Or do I? Why could I like him after everything?

“Leo this is the most convoluted bullshit I’ve ever been part of.” At least I can hear my boss snorting with laughter.

“Yes, okay, its something to think on. In the meantime, I will book you a flight for the day after tomorrow. If you don’t want it, you can change the ticket. And no, this will not leave your career in shambles so chill out and drink a glass of wine. Okay? You worry too much.”

You’re in the kitchen, following boss’s orders, pouring yourself a glass of red wine. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, deciding if it's drinkable, when Thomas comes in.

“That's not the best,” he says, gesturing to the wine. He’s meeting your eyes again, nothing malicious or cruel. Thomas opens the fridge and while fumbling for something on the shelf, knocks a tube of garlic paste onto the floor. He makes a precious “oops” sound then meticulously places it where he knocked it from. Were malicious and cruel even accurate words to describe his behavior? Petulant, aggravated, sure, but he never chose anything with weight to make an issue of.

“You know it's really not,” you agreed. “It tastes like disappointment and a headache.” You both smiled easily, Thomas with his face lit from the open fridge. There was something very different about his energy and disposition right now. This was the first time you and Thomas had been alone together.

“It’s what Victoria and Nica left, when they went out.” You made a disgusted sound. “So you really shouldn’t subject yourself to drinking it.”

“Ugh, Chist.” You emptied your glass into the sink, rinsing it a couple times before filling it with water. “No wine for y/n, then.”

“Well you should try this,” Thomas suggested, closing the fridge with a bottle in hand.

“If anyone finds out you keep red wine in the fridge they’re gonna revoke your citizenship” You teased, but regretted immediately because Thomas would take that as bait for conflict and you were so enjoying this gentle peace.

“I couldn’t agree more, but this is a Lumbresco so…” Lumbresco was your favorite, you moved to hop off the counter and look at the label, but Thomas brought the bottle to you instead. It was a Labrusca Rose.

“Thomas what the hell are you doing with a 20 dollar Pink Lumbresco?” you asked, delighted.

“You mentioned that it was your favorite so I thought I should try it.” The look on your face sent him stumbling over his explanation. “When I meet a new person and they tell me their favorite wine I try it and there’s no use trying something if you don’t give it a fair shot. How would I know I liked it if it was a shitty bottle? Buying a crappy bottle would be counterproductive, like I- “ You stopped his rambling with another question.

“But Thomas, why haven’t you opened it yet?” You could actually see Thomas’s walls go up, see his darkness snuff the light of his tenderness out. “Oh, duh! Because its sparkling, it's not like you were going to drink the whole bottle in one go.The only way not to waste it is to share it.” Thomas relaxed back. That was the difference in his disposition, he was unguarded.

“Precisely,” he said, as if everything had been in his control the whole time. “Now for the corkscrew…” He opened the drawer right next to your thigh. This was the closest you’d been, standing almost cheek to cheek, but facing opposite directions. You were alone in the kitchen. When his hand accidentally brushed the top of your thigh, he yanked his it away and stopped breathing. So maybe Thomas felt the same way you did. Maybe that's why he avoided being alone in rooms with you. You have to test that theory now. If you were leaving in two days, you could afford to be bold.

“Thomas” you murmured, and waited for him to turn his eyes from the drawer’s contents to your face. He did so sparingly, which only spurred you on. “You smell really good.” He froze, opening and closing his mouth a couple times like a fish out of water.

“Ugh, I’m not wearing any cologne, I don’t think.” He said, looking down at himself.

“I don’t think it's cologne, you just smell so good.” At this point you observed his reaction. He was shocked, but not pulling away. In fact, Thomas was infinitesimally closer to you. You had to wait a couple beats for his brain to resume functioning, but when it did, he smirked proudly, and you knew he was on the same page. He reaches a hand toward your face, but then you hear a door slam somewhere in the back of the house. You sprang off the counter and took a couple steps back.

Suddenly you’re aware of the entryways to the kitchen, of the windows above the sink. Suddenly the prospect that someone saw made you panic, because maybe you didn’t want to throw it all away. Maybe, if Thomas could find a balance, you didn’t want to throw it all away by fucking your client and leaving in two days.

“Relax, everyone’s out except Ethan, he's just going out to the pool to smoke.”

“He could have seen Thomas. That would be incredibly unprofessional, he’s my client!”

“I get that, will you calm down, it was just the door to the porch.” You loathe being told to calm down.

“It could have been the front door or some other door!”

“But it wasn’t.” Thomas’s arrogance was showing.

“And how do you know that Thomas, how do you know?”

“Because I know what the door sounds like and I made sure it was just Ethan here!”

“But how can you be sure that's what the door to the pool sounds like for sure? That's not possible.” Great, they were arguing about sounds the doors make. Then, you processed the second part of what Thomas had said. “Wait, why did you make sure that no one was here? Were you that confident that we were going to have sex? Oh my god, did you tell them all to leave so we could have sex?!”

“No, they were already going to go out so I could apologize! I just like you, okay?” Thomas matched your hysterics.

“Then apologize! Or is there someone else you need to discuss it with before you discuss it with me?” You were bitter, you had a right to be.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for everything and for this afternoon and fucking all of it! Are you happy now? Is that the apology you wanted?”

“I don’t ask you for anything and you know that,” you said, quiet but powerful.

“Yeah I know that,” Thomas replied spitefully. The way he said it, you wondered if he wanted you to need something from him, so he would give it to you. It wasn’t your job to guess that people had good intentions.

“You don’t consider anything. You don’t know what it is to have my career, to do my job. Okay? Because then you would know-” you point a finger in the direction of the pool, but Thomas interrupts you.

“How can you say that I don’t know anything about you, huh? You’re afraid of how society’s opinion might affect your career? Try getting followed by cameras! Because I’m in a band, instead of an office? There's-”

“Yes, because you’re in a band! The relationships are totally different, saying otherwise would be simplistic.You have more freedom, but for me there are regulations and rules for how I conduct myself!” You were finally able to finish your thought, while Thomas studied you.

“You follow the rules because you’re supposed to, yes? And that makes you happy y/n?” You nod and Thomas walks around the table as he speaks.

“Yes they do! Because I have a career!” you insist.

“So do I.” Thomas said, but he continued talking before you could beat him to the punch. “But that is because we are different people, right? For you to be successful and happy you need rules.” He comes to stand directly in front of you and lifts his finger accusingly. “You call me simplistic. You should try to feel something outside of the little cage you’ve built around yourself.”

“Fuck you!” you growl at him.

“Finally, something,” he says, as if you’d had a breakthrough.

“Fine, then what's your great expanse of emotional experience, Thomas?” You put your hands on his chest and shove him towards the table, where he has to catch himself on one of the chairs. “Playing FIFA and fucking girls with the lights off? Waking up at 1pm? Sounds riveting! Maybe I should try that, maybe-” But Thomas is kissing you. He pulls away for a second to give you a choice, but you grab him by both lapels and bring his body against your own. There's no tepidness, this has been between you for weeks.

Thomas reaches down to thighs and tells you to jump. You spring off the ground at the same time that he hauls you up his body. You love being able to coil your legs around his hips and establishing a vice grip so Thomas doesn’t need to support you. He does anyway, moving his hands up to the soft place where cheek meets thigh. At a slightly different angle he’s be fingering you. You’re both too hot this close, and its making you sweat wonderfully. The fight and arousal have made both your faces flushed, lips plush and pink. The transition to using tongue wasn’t awkward, as the verbal foreplay had rendered both supple.

You arched your back, trying to get closer and tugging at his hair for future reference. Trying to figure out what is too much and not enough, finding that Thomas’s pleasure has more to do with the amount of sensation rather than severity. He makes these little grunts and breathes out hard when something feels good. You grab as big a section as possible at the back of his head and pull, arching your back to get closer. You lick his adam's apple and the hollow at the base of his neck, sweat pooling. His hands knead your soft upper thighs in pleasure.

Thomas then hicks you up higher, so your legs are around his waist. He kisses a line up your neck, then sucks a hickey, hard. He runs your earlobe between his teeth. It's gentler to test the waters, but you don’t like gentleness, you like pain and pleasure in a 1:1 ratio.

“Hard, you can do it hard.” It's the most coherent thing you can say. Right now the primal desire to fuck Thomas was underminning all frontal lobe information.

“Top off.” He held you up, flush against his body so you could use your hands without falling. You unceremoniously yanked your shirt off. Thomas leaned down, getting the muscle that ran along the top of your shoulder between his teeth. He bit down so hard that you felt the muscle spasm in his mouth with glorious white hot agony. You let out an embarrassing screeching moan that surely anyone in the house could hear, but Thomas didn’t put a hand over your mouth. Instead he put his lips by your ear and purred your praises.

“Mhm I thought you’d be a little freak. Already doing such a good job.” Thomas didn’t pull away, he stuck his tongue in your ear. No one had done that before and you figured it’d feel strange, but it was amazing. The wet, hot muscle of Thomas’s tongue was felt acutely by the highly sensitive receptors in your ear canal. He had to grip you tight as you shivered. Getting Thomas’s shirt off in this particular position was difficult, but you could unbutton it. The burnt orange fabric parted to reveal the skin below.

When Thomas pulled you flush against him again, you felt suddenly self conscious. You were so turned on by him that your tights had soaked through, and you were wearing a skirt with no panties. This meant that your wet crotch was pressed against the skin above his belly button. You were totally vulnerable to him. Thomas moved so that your back was pressed against the wall instead of his. This allowed the wall to hold some of your weight, but also for Thomas to press further against you. Thomas hiked up your skirt and leaned into your groin, so your wet cunt was pressed against him as much as possible. This meant that your legs were splaying almost totally open against his waist. Being up in the air like this made you feel small, taken care of, but also at the mercy of your partner.

Thomas must be getting tired by now, but instead he shrugged off his button up and unclasped your bra. When he went straight for your nipples you understood why he wanted you in this position. All splayed out, Thomas could literally feel himself making you wet. Thomas went through the normal, vanilla licking and sucking. When that didn’t elicit a reaction from you, he used his teeth. Just seeing him drag his front tooth against your nipple made you dig your nails into his back. When he did it with force, you almost came, and he felt that when you spasmed, and where your cunt was pressed against his abdomen. You’d lost track of when you’d started making noises, but you needed more. You needed more pressure, more stimulation, and this state of being completely aroused was painful.

When he did put your feet on the ground, your were both so desperate to fuck that when Thomas asked you to lean over the table, you said yes. Before turning around, you undid Thomas’s belt and pants. He watched you, the visual of seeing your hands on his groin an immense turn on. He stepped out of his jeans, then froze.

“Condoms, damn it!” Thomas looked crestfallen in a way you found flattering.

“I’m on birth control, are you clean?”

“Yeah I just got a panel done.”

“So let's do it without. It's better anyway and I want to feel you.” The look of wonder at the proposition of safe, unprotected sex on a mans face never gets old. It's like Disnaeyland but more so.

“Fuck thats so hot.” He rushed forward to kiss you and the urgency was back. You pulled off his underwear and got a brief look at his cock as you turned around. It was long, veiny, and circumcised, even pretty. You pulled up your skirt and Thomas tried to peel back your tights for about 2 seconds before he ripped them apart at the seams, growling. You let out a sound of indignation.

“I’ll get you new ones.” Thomas grunted. You felt the tip of his dick against your hymen for a moment, before he pulled away. Thoomas’s knees hit the ground and his mouth was on your opening. He went in tongue first and sucked, as you squealed. The first finger was easy, but the second wasn’t, which was why he was adding more foreplay to begin with. He was too big, you realized. As Thomas worked on a second finger, he murmured words of encouragement.

“Sweetheart you gotta relax. Relax for me baby, it’ll feel good. You’re safe, relax your body for me baby.” You focused on relaxing your pelvis, breathing deeply. It had been months since your last fuck, but you didn’t figure you’d end up this tight. “There you go baby, you’re doing such a good job. You’re relaxing so good for me, opening up so good.” Once the second finger was in the third came easily and Thomas was back on his feet.

“Do you want me to-” you said, gesturing at his cock.

“No, no, it's fine. You feel ready?” You nodded. “Still okay with doing this here?”

“Yeah, yeah, it's fine” you answered, feeling a little embarrassed. But then you felt the head of Thomas’s cock again, this time pressing in. You took a deep breath, and Thomas sank into the hilt. It knocked the air out of you, so you surged towards the table and he caught you.

“Still good?” You nodded adamantly. The sensation was a surprise but it was also fucking wonderful. The deep ache, combined with Thomas’s stimulating nerves that hadn’t been stimulated in months, was a new favorite. You calmed your body for a moment and hummed with pleasure. In response, Thomas did the unexpected. He kissed the nape of your neck like a lover.

You realized Thomas knew what he was doing when he started by searching for the right angle, instead of viciously thrusting. Soft, yearning moans came from the back of his throat while he kept a reasonable pace. You could feel in the way that Thomas’s body was coiled, that he was holding back until the right moment. You rolled your hips back against his thrusts to coax more vigor from his movements. Thomas moved one hand from the table, onto the hinge of your hip to control your movements. You whined in the back of your throat when he used that hand to bring your body back against him, down his cock.

That’s when he found your g-spot and you wailed, feeling your toes curl against the tile of the kitchen floor. Thomas must have spent at least the next five minutes fucking you hard and deep, with you pressed against and onto the surface of the table. The enamel of the table was cold on your nipple’s and Thomas’s unrelenting pace brought the catharsis of being fucked thoroughly. At some point you’d moved the table half a foot across the room and your feet weren't even touching the ground. Thomas pulled you up off the table like a ragdoll and rested his chin on you shoulder.

“You think you can come, sweetheart? For me?” You couldn’t managewords, but a nod of the head was enough for Thomas to take full advantage of his new viewpoint. The hand grasping your hip moved between your legs. He was looking down, finding the clitorous. Soon he was applying such direct pleasure that you were gasping.

“Too much!” His breath was hitting your shoulder rapidly. You could feel Thomas’s hair, damp with sweat, ticking your neck. The light ministrations on your clit and angle of his cock were so perfect that all Thomas had to do was bite down again, and you fell onto the table in orgasam. You don’t remember exactly when Thomas came, but it seemed that he’d been waiting for you first. He collapsed half way on top of you, both of you with ragged breathing. Thomas moved to sweetly kiss the back of your neck again, a chaste kiss. You opened your eyes to watch him and found yourself being watched, tenderly and with care. You said the first thing that came to mid, in order to fill the silence.

“Thank you.” Thomas chuckled, head resting on his folded forearms.

“Happy to be of service y/n.”

“But I should check with Leo to make sure this is part of my job description. I wouldn’t want any permanent write-ups in my file.” In response, Thomas laughed so hard he fell onto the kitchen floor.

“Careful where you lay your face down”

“Ew!”

Notes: this work is inspired by a prompt anonymously submitted to another blog who invited other writers to use it. I’m not sure of the proper format for that. Also I wrote the entire sex scene high af lol This as far from proofread as I'm willing to post so sorry for all the mistakes.

Masterlist

#maneskin x reader #maneskin smut #maneskin imagine #thomas maneskin #thomas raggi #thomas x reader #thomas x you #thomas x y/n

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choiwrites · 3 years

Text

kth | wolfgirl (m.)

Words: 10k Genre: twlight!au, it’s new moon but taetae as jacob, ur bella but you have a personality :o, oh also smut and a little angst Warnings: no protection and no fcks given, language ig?, descriptive seggs lol, vampires and all that bs if that triggers sum of yall, oral (f receiving), tae is younger than u and kind of a sub (dom tae is overdone we need change in this country) i cant think no more no thots hed mt Rating: 18+ Song: Iron & Wine - Flightless Bird, American Mouth Summary: During your stay at your Aunt's house in the wet town of Forks, you never thought the boys next door will change your perspective in how you see the world.

The weather in Washington was something you’re not used to. You can never go places without getting mud on your shoes and it takes more than your patience to clean them every time before going out. Sure, it was great to experience a different weather other than the blazing sun in Los Angeles, but it was hard to adjust. You weren’t ready for it with all the sleeveless and loose tops you brought from Los Angeles.

After months of debating with your mom, you decided it would be a great way to spend your summer vacation turning your camera focus into something more dark and cloudy. Your professor had also suggested that it would look good in your portfolio if you try different moods in photos other than the hot weather in Angeles. So, you thought about it for months before asking your mom to buy you tickets to see your Aunt Sylvia who you're currently living with for the meantime.

She was in her mid-thirties, but she looked younger than her real age. She knew how to groom and with the way she looks, she probably had that life during her high school days. You rarely see her though, you can remember all the conversations you both had. She leaves home early for her duty at the police station as an attending desk officer. Her place wasn't big, an average suburban house painted in cold tones of white and gray with dark furniture inside. It's not your typical definition of cozy. Good thing you brought your two sweaters — one with a Christmas tree embroidered on it and one with the phrase "'tis the season!" Wearing a sweater in Los Angeles only means one thing, and that is the season of giving. But who cares, it's not like anyone was going to notice, right?

About to finish the second cup of black tea, an idea pops into your mind about what Sylvia had said about the landscapes nearby the house. However, she had warned you about the risks of a few wild coyote appearances, but one could call you a junkie. There’s no fun in danger, but dangerous does rhyme with adventurous.

A cool whip of breeze enters the thin fabric of your sweater, immediately regretting stepping out of the doorstep after locking the door. As you are approaching the back of the house to enter the woods, young laughters echo through the area, lessening your fear for a bit. It must be safe if a group of teenagers are hanging out in such a secluded forest.

Unbothered by the noises, whether they were from teenagers or not, you make your way further into the woods of coppery branches on the endless verdant ground with subtle eau de nils. It’s like walking into a surreal three-dimensional render of a forest, too perfect to be right in front of your eyes.

It was quiet and serene in the woods. Aside from birds chirping, it felt like out of this world. It was an alien planet. Everything was green — the moss surrounding the place, every tree had some sort of fungi beneath it, the soil dark brown as if staring right into the earth’s eyes. The very healthy kind of earthy, and it was easier to breathe in the forest than it was in the city of Los Angeles. No wonder why they're both on the opposite sides of the country. They're literally poles apart. Being at Forks, it's as if you were able to be in a different country. It was secluded, unlike in Angeles, there are people in every place you go.

While changing the film of the camera, a strong gust of wind on your left side. So strong that your body stumbled onto the ground. You were on your knees, camera shattered as it hits a hard medium-sized rock. You break a couple of curses to the wind.

The camera looked hopeless with lenses separated from it, lying in pieces against a rock.

"What the hell was that?"

There had to be some kind of a fast animal that ran from your side, which quickens your pulse, but the devastation you felt for the camera overthrew that fear. When you caught a glimpse of the 'wind,' it was human-like. It ran around in every direction surrounding you, freezing you into place. The only thing you were able to do was to keep watching the human-like creature run in circles like lightning. You tried standing up, but it approached you in a rapid current that you fell into place again. But you couldn't see it, you weren't able to look into its eyes.

"You shouldn't be out here alone,” behind you says.

You whimper, embarrassed when the deep voice sends hums into your nerves..

"Why didn't you run?" He looks at you with knitted brows as he approaches to help you get on your feet. He’s far too attractive to be a wild coyote, you slap that stupid thought away.

"I... I didn't know what to do,” you force out, still affected by the broken camera and creeping fear.

He was around four inches taller than you. He looked about your age. Dark thick hair, with light brown irides inside his almond-shaped eyes. His skin was of a rich walnut tan, and his dark green hoodie complements that.

"You must be Sylvia's niece. I'm Taehyung,” he said in a sultry manner as he offered a hand for a handshake.

"How do you kno-"

"She told us. My family's close with Sylvia. Our mothers used to be best friends, y/n." He puts his hand back in the pocket of his hoodie.

A tinge of embarrassment brushes through your cheeks, feeling guilty that you didn't give him a handshake. But all of that is ignored when he smiles.

"Did I creep you out?"

You chuckle softly. "No, of course not. I'm just still in the moment... of processing." You ease him, as if you were able to read the tension in his undecipherable eyes.

There was a few seconds of silence before Taehyung spoke again when he noticed your camera on the ground.

"Hey, we have a technician at home, maybe he has some tools he could help you with."

He was absolutely gorgeous. You find yourself lost in his face, studying his features and every little action he does. He would look so good as a muse. If only you could capture him right now, he'd be perfect under the clouds that create shadows that contour his cheeks and makes his eyes even more mysterious.

"Don't worry, you can trust me. Sylvia knows where I live,” he adds.

Though that doesn't really solve the problem, you find yourself walking with Taehyung in the woods, drifting away from the devastation and fear from earlier.

The laughters were from them. The laughs you heard earlier before entering the woods were from Taehyung's friends. They confirmed that they were walking around the woods earlier and that they passed by your house. All looking friendly with similar doe eyes, almost like they were relatives. They were all in a circle, all of them sitting on a chunk of thick logs, dressed in a similar way. The men were younger than you, but there is a girl who's older than you. She didn't seem as friendly as the others as you notice the judging glances towards your way. She had shoulder length of hair and she was just as tan as Taehyung. Taehyung discussed each of them one by one to you, all of them introducing themselves in an endearing manner except for her. Only saying her name was Leah and that was it, which made you feel an ounce of intimidation.

"So, y/n, how long do you plan to stay?" Embry, the one with the shortest hair, asks as he plays with the two twigs he'd been digging up dirt with the moment you arrived. His color was a tad bit darker than the others. He had a grin that could steal every girl's heart. He was gorgeous. They were all just as gorgeous as Taehyung.

"Oh, one month. I have a college application to fix back home,” you answered surely. You were only here to take photos for your college portfolio, and making friends was out of the picture until today.

"Sucks for Tae, I had a feeling you could be more than a willing candidate to be his girlfriend." Everybody laughed except for you and Tae who exchanged awkward glances at each other.

"Stop it, Bry." Taehyung wanted to laugh along but embarrassment got the best of him.

"She looks so out of place. You probably party a lot in Los Angeles, don't you?" Leah gives you a stern look, seriously waiting for your response. She only wants to get a reaction from you and you weren’t the only one to get the feeling as the group feels the rising tension between the both of you.

"No, I don't go to parties. Mom is very strict." You tell her. You didn't want the group to feel that you were intimidated, after all, you wanted to befriend everyone.

"She'd be perfect for our overnight tomorrow then." She prickly grins.

"Right! Want to join us in La Push? It's the nearest beach out here. We'll have bonfires and such," Seth, the youngest one with the tiniest body (still bigger than yours), expresses in excitement. Out of all of them, Seth was the friendliest.

"I'll go talk to Sylvia for you, if you want." Taehyung raises his brows. He had been laughing quietly ever since he had brought you to meet his friends - which seems like he regrets, additionally. He was more mysterious than you thought. He didn't share much of his life during the discussion, only three things: his last name was Kim, he’s 20 years old, and he lives at the rez along with the rest of the team.

"Sure. I'll just bring my other camera." You smiled.

Taehyung said that he'll get Chase, a friend of his who wasn’t part of the circle, to fix the broken film camera. He assured that it will only be a matter of three days before the camera is all yours again. After a few more useless fun discussions, you had forgotten that the sun had settled for a while. When Taehyung realizes your face of worry, he offers to give you a ride home. Great, a ride with the wild coyote who had immediately earned your trust by rising a brow. You wouldn’t be so shocked if you end up ‘missing’ in the news in the next hours.

He owned a Chevy pick up truck. It was red, but faded, making it seem vermillion in color. It had a few dents and you were sure that it wasn't one of the smoothest rides you've ever had. But Taehyung made a few jokes about how he feels uneasy with the truck as well, only to reveal that it has been with him ever since his birth.

"It's great. Very retro." You gave him a smile to let him know that he doesn't need to feel embarrassed with his truck.

"Shut up, Y/N. I know it sucks, okay. I can't even play a single song here without a static." He laughs and you admit it.

He gave a charming wave to your window and had a small chat with Sylvia, who’s been home for hours, before leaving, probably about the La Push trip for tomorrow. Once you've changed into your pyjamas, Sylvia knocks on your door as you are about to settle in bed.

"Tae told me about the La Push camping tomorrow,” she began.

"Are you gonna let me?"

She smiles in an assuring way. You can't deny how lovely she looked with her hair down, her waves framing her heart-shaped face. "Of course, honey. You better wake up early tomorrow. Tae told me that he'll pick you up by seven." She winks and rubs your shoulder before heading downstairs.

A beach trip in a cloudy town without bringing any hoodies with you? Sounds about perfect, if you’re looking for a hypothermia attack. And you were never a morning person either so it’s a big mystery why you even agreed to go in the first place. The waking time in Los Angeles was ten in the morning. In Forks, it was seven.

When Taehyung arrived, he was wearing a black shirt and a black leather jacket, pairing it with slightly oversized pants. He looked bigger than yesterday, maybe it was the jacket that made him look buff. He waved softly before you even stepped out of the doorway. He was carrying a medium-sized paper bag with small wet stains.

"My sister made us breakfast. Just in case you didn't have enough time to prepare," he opens the car door for you and waved to Sylvia goodbye, "thought you'd take more time because you probably wake up late in the city."

“I’m somehow a little offended with that assumption,” you cooed and he replied with a stammering laugh, unsure whether to take it as a joke or not.

He fumbled with the stereo and it played better than yesterday, giving you a sloppy smile as the first chords of Creep by Radiohead plays.

"You fixed it?" You take a bite from the sandwich his sister prepared. You thank God his sister prepared it for you, your stomach would be growling by now.

"Yeah. I just didn't want us to have that awkward silence along the way." He breathily laughs.

Everything Taehyung has is beautiful. He had an amazing laugh, a deep sultry voice, and doe eyes. He's simply astonishing. You were sure that everyone he has met so far had fallen in love with him. You weren't one to deny that either.

It took around fifteen songs before the both of you arrived at the beach — thanks to Taehyung's amazing playlist. It was quiet, the weather didn't change much in the place. Still cold and dark, untouched by a glimpse of sunrise. It was windier than the rest of Forks, and you wore your Christmas sweater to at least help with the cold a bit.

It was weird to say, but Taehyung radiated heat whenever you were near him. It's like when you're not around Taehyung, you feel the coldness of Forks. His truck didn't even feel cold though his air conditioning was on, you just felt a sense of unfamiliar comfortable heat you found yourself curling in your seat minutes ago. The group welcomed the both of you except for Leah of course. Sooner or later, you knew you'd start to hate her.

"You guys are early,” you tell Embry and Paul as they greet you with warm hugs.

"Of course, we are. It's La Push, baby." Embry gives you a wink and you blush.

"Okay, Bry, I haven't had my breakfast and you're already winking." Paul fake puked and the rest of the group laughs.

They started setting up tents as Taehyung offered to take your bag when he noticed how it's weighing you down. Before he could put it in the tent, you took your digital camera and started roaming around by yourself to take pictures of the view. Astounding as you had expected. It's like you were in the middle of nowhere. Only Taehyung's friends were at the beach which was a lucky shot for you and the group.

"Set up the fire, Tae! We're having breakfast." Leah yells across the place as she places the logs in the middle of the circle the tents are built in.

Taehyung sighs loudly. "Get ready for the Quileute Tribe stories."

"You seem tired of it, you joked.

While Taehyung builds a fire with the rest of the boys, you secretly take pictures of him busy as the both of you keep talking.

"It's always the story every camping day. The Quileute Legends, you know? The scary stuff."

You knit your brows when the word ‘scary’ comes into play, bringing your camera down to take a better look at the almost sweaty Taehyung.

"Scary stuff? How scary? Thrill me." You weren't aware as to how much Taehyung also studies your features. He wanted to know you better, but he was afraid of scaring you away by asking too many questions. It had always been his issue, scaring people away from him. And this time, he didn't want to let you in like the others, he just wanted to be acquaintances. But the more he spends time with you, the more he wants to be near you as if there were magnets pulling you together.

"I don't know what would thrill you, y/n. But the world is darker than you think, it's not always safe." He gives you a look. It was impossible. You were five feet away from him, but you could almost see your reflection in his eyes. It was too comforting. You were devoured by his eyes, falling steadily into his charms.

"I know. It's just as scary in L.A., I mean," you gulped, "crime is everywhere. Can't really stop it." You explained.

"It's not always crime that's scary, y/n. I'm talking unexplainable things." He smirks.

"Like paranormal?" You gaze away from him, starting to take pictures of the beach. But no matter how hard you try to distract yourself from Taehyung, your eyes keep falling on him.

"More than paranormal. Ghosts are easier to believe in."

You inhaled sharply. "I mean those are just legends, right? What's with the obsession in the Qui-Quileute Tribe?" You struggled pronouncing the word.

"It's not me. It's a tradition." There was a moment of silence before you could think of what to say again.

"Delete my pictures by the way." He scoffed.

"I thought you didn't notice."

"I was posing."

You laugh at his joke, still certain you're never deleting any of his pictures, most definitely the one when he accidentally looked at the camera.

"You look sort of beautiful in the camera." Your lids flutter like a high school girl. “Not just in the camera, I mean… haha.”

He stares at you in confusion, and somehow you always find yourself frozen and embarrassed whenever he looks at you. "Sort of beautiful? You're more naive than I thought." He removes his jacket and throws it on the log nearby, revealing his buff body. You look away in discomfort, you didn't want to find yourself checking him out. "I'm not what you think I am. And I don't think you want to know."

"Maybe I do." You point the camera towards him and take a shot of his reaction. You wink.

The clouds hovering above the clamorous sea tell that there's probably rain coming, but it seems like the group wasn't bothered by it at all. You were sitting next to Taehyung two feet away from you on the logs nearby the fire that Seth had given up trying to help making after a couple of failed attempts. His heat never failed to linger around you though.

Sam was discussing the Quileute Legends and the group was very fascinated with the story, even though Taehyung had confirmed earlier that they've already heard the story too many times from their own families. Sam was good. He had a way in telling stories. You find yourself actually believing the legends. Werewolves and vampires? Shapeshifters and Children of the Moon? You weren't one to believe in such fantasies. You liked to watch historical movies more than fairytales, but with the way Sam elaborated every part of the legend, you can't deny the shiver that you felt when he discussed the cold ones.

Fast like lightning. Beautiful and alluring. Undead without a soul.

You thought it was ridiculous for Sam to even give out a warning about the cold ones. You were suppressing your laugh a little bit, and you were sure Leah already had her eyes on you. Why would Sam give out a warning about the cold ones? It's not like they were actually real. He also mentioned a treaty. And he sounded pretty serious about it too, even Taehyung was carefully listening. All of their eyes were on Sam, except for Leah.

Sam talked about a specific family of the cold ones, that they proposed a treaty. These cold ones are not allowed to hurt anybody from Forks, or else the mentioned werewolves are allowed to pose a fight with them. He talked about it like it was a plan.

It was afternoon and the clouds were still as thick as it was in the morning, but rays of sunlight shone through the gaps between the dark clouds. It looked ethereal, an aesthetic you'd only see in paintings. You thought those paintings are only manifestations of amplified emotions of the painter, but here you are, smiling to your camera as you take hundreds of shots.

"Save some memory for the other landscapes," Taehyung says beside you, throwing pebbles to the water, each bouncing impressively for three times.

"I know, I just can't get enough of this. You don't see that in L.A." You pointed your index finger towards the horizon of the sea.

"Yeah, but at least you can swim in LA. It's too cold out here to even go for a swim,” he emphasized.

"Not when you're around. It's weird, but I feel like you have a fever. You're too hot."

He raises his brows . "I know I'm hot," he chuckles.

"I didn't mean it like that,” you protest, though you know for a fact, Taehyung right. If he were to live in L.A., he'd be escorted many times by a modeling agency.

"So, I'm not hot?" You knew he was teasing and your embarrassment was obvious enough because of the blood rushing through your cheeks.

"You're attractive. I'm sure you know that." You roll your eyes, trying to keep everything casual — which is getting harder and harder every time he's around.

"No, I don't,” he teased. He was obviously getting pay back on you for taking candid shots of him earlier.

Your eyes landed on Sam and Emily play-fighting in the sea, just the sight of them being happy made you feel a bit of a heartache. You were a sucker for romance. The boys told you earlier that they were engaged for three months now. Leah was Sam's ex-girlfriend and Emily was Leah's ex-best friend. Finally putting the pieces together why Leah was one of the hardest to be with. She was extremely hurt and broken. She would rather shut the world out rather than let anybody in. She would rather be alone, than find anyone again who could possibly hurt her.

"Look," you poked Taehyung who was too busy throwing pebbles, "Sam and Emily are swimming. We should too!"

Though you were shivering, you bravely took off the mustard jacket that Taehyung had let you borrow. You were left with your thin brown tank top and denim shorts. He's still in his black shirt, unbothered to even take it off nor his jeans.

"What are you doing? Let's go." You tell him as you walk towards the sea.

This was a bad idea. It felt like ice was draping all over your body. How can Emily look like she's having fun when you're over here freezing just by stepping into the water? Half of your body was shivering from the wind, the lower half was for sure numb. You wanted to slap Taehyung for taking so long to get in with you, and you weren't even sure why you were so desperate for him to get in with you. It's not like he had a heater with him.

It took Taehyung a few more seconds before he started taking his shirt off, revealing his caramel skin, but it wasn't his color that caught your eyes, it was how built he is. His body looks like it was sculpted by the most talented and precise sculptor. It was defined, and shadows are doing magic in giving it silhouettes in the right areas. The best part about it was how shy he was taking off his clothes, like a teenager getting ready for his first swimming lesson.

He was for sure planning to swim today, revealing the gray trunks he’s wearing underneath his jeans. He needs a bigger one that fits him better, because the trunks he's wearing isn't doing him any justice.

Okay, no. Maybe it was justified by a subtle outline of his —

Don't even look down there, y/n, you tell yourself.

You didn't know where to focus. His thighs were just as eye-catching as his abs. Just as toned and thick. It would be such a material for thigh riding, you thought and you quickly shake your head at the idea. It has to be the waters that did this to you. Time has never been more relevant when he was walking towards your way, as he scoops water with his hands to wet his hair, while biting his bottom lip and giving you a small smile after.

"Freezing?" He smiles, eyes pierced on your small body. You were hugging yourself, embracing yourself from the fact that if you let go of your hands, you might touch something else.

"You were taking so long."

He chuckles before holding your arm, taking it off your body. "Come on, dip your whole body." He pulls you softly towards the ocean, the sound of walking through water comforting your ears.

He was a foot away from you, the water level was on his chest and so was yours, but slightly higher. He looked even more godly. His hair pushed back, and to see his face in its entirety was a blessing, a gift.

None of you dared to talk, and you thought it was better that way. You just get to stare at him, as the sunlight lands itself upon his bronze eyes with specks of gold if you would close enough, majestic indeed to see something like that once in your life. You'd wish to wake up to that every morning.

There was this comfortable silence between the two of you. Drops of water fall under his eyelashes, fluttering them as he struggles to stare back at you. The moment was ruined when he suddenly smiled and looked towards Embry and Paul. Embry was sitting next to Paul, staring at the both of you while laughing. You shrug, feeling invaded.

"Why? What is it?" you asked Taehyung.

"They're thinking ridiculously."

You furrow your forehead. "How do you know?" He tightens his hold around your arm as he keeps you steady near him, aware of you struggling to touch the floor.

"I just know," he softly plants circles on your arm with his thumb, "trust me."

"Maybe we shouldn't stand too close to each other then. I think they're making a big deal out of it." You didn't want to come off feisty, but you guessed it went that way for Taehyung as he moved away from you without letting you go.

"No, they're not. They're just teasing." When he said that, it was like he only said it to get near you, to assure you that it was okay to be close to him like that.

"Still cold?" he asked.

"Not so much anymore." You muttered. There were so many questions you wanted to ask Taehyung, but your voice isn't very trustworthy at the moment. You know it will betray you the moment you open your mouth.

"Penny for your thoughts? Why did you want to swim?" His voice was soft, calming as the ocean.

"I wanted to test how warm you can make me, even in freezing water."

He laughs breathily. "Seriously?"

You nod. He wanted to tell you a lot about himself, but like you, he was just as scared. Skinny dipping wasn't really your thing, especially in cold water, so after a few more moments of swimming and small talks with Taehyung, you let yourself dry by sitting next to the tent, keeping yourself busy by viewing all the pictures you took.

It was four in the afternoon, and the sun looked like it was already setting. Time was almost irrelevant at Forks, you wake up and the next thing you know, you're already getting ready for bed. Even though today was quite eventful, the clock still ticked quickly.

Feeling dry enough, you walked to the other side of the beach, Embry had mentioned that there was a cliff nearby along the woods. Though Taehyung was busy drying himself and laughing with the others, he glanced your way as you were heading towards the woods. You lifted your camera so he knew what your motive was, and he flashed a sly smile.

Trees. Cliffs. Birds.

The place could be a haven for the National Geographic Channel.

"I thought the pack wouldn't ever leave you alone like this." A deep voice spoke behind you, his english accent was thick and strong. You were sure that if you turn around, he’ll be ten feet away from you. You regret blinking your eyes, because the next thing you knew, he was right in front of you. His expression with so much thirst, so much hunger. For what?

You only inhaled sharply, first thing coming into your mind, confusion overpowering your nerves. You examined the man before you quickly. Olive skin, dark ruby eyes. His skin was inhumanly shiny, he almost looked dead, but in a mesmerizing type of way. He had dark purple circles, but his eyes were beautiful enough to distract you from it. He mirrored a cement under sunlight, he had fragments of diamonds and glitters on his skin. It wasn't your brain consuming you but his visual, his aura.

"Didn't bring your dog with you?" You weren't sure what he meant. He takes a step forward to lean into your ear, and your feet beg to stay, your eyes staring deeply in his beauty. You were too engaged, everything about him had you in place.

"You smell different from the others. Are you aware of that?" His breath touched your skin and there the exact opposite of heat seeping in your skin. “La tua cantante. I can hear your blood flowing through your veins. I can hear your heart. It's beautiful." He sniffs your neck as he hisses.

He wasn't human, and this time you were sure. He had danger lingering in his eyes, but it dressed so captivatingly beautiful, you found yourself lost.

"It won't hurt, I promise. It will be just a tiny bite, you won't even feel it."

There were words coming out of your mouth, you swore that. But nothing, your mouth still and close. It's sort of like he had power upon you, controlling and manipulating your body to be a mannequin.

"Shh, don't fight it. You won't win over me." His teeth were grazing on your neck, seeking for a soft spot. You were unsure of his nature, what could he be?

An alien from this alien planet? An experiment gone wrong that escaped from a lab, perhaps? Maybe a demon, or an angel. A greek god of some kind?

They were all terrifying.

At the corner of your eye appeared a shirtless Taehyung, but he didn't look like himself. He was red, smoke flaring around his body. His chest expanded by time, and when you felt a small sensation of sharpness on your neck, Taehyung jumped towards the man.

No, it can't be.

This isn't Taehyung. Taehyung was gone. Maybe you were imagining things, but you felt all of them happening in front of you. As the man got distracted, your senses came back, falling on your side from losing balance. You pushed yourself away from the two monsters, as you would describe it. This wolf was huge, enormous. Any man who would try to fight it will easily lose. It stands almost seven foot, three bears wide.

Without trying, the creature had already decapitated the man. You weren't sure how to feel — safe or worried — but you were sure that you are mortified, and your face clearly expresses that.

You were only moving away from this huge thing in front of you, maybe that'll help you escape. But you don't even know if you wanted to escape. A part of you believes that Taehyung is inside that wolf, maybe eaten alive, or a spirit.

So much for the wild coyotes, thanks for the heads up Sylvia.

Your eyes met his. Dark bronze eyes with specks of gold if you look close enough. You could almost see yourself in them, they were that kind. His eyes had a message for you, to approach him, to pet him, that it was okay and he will never hurt you. Before your hand could land on his lowered head, Sam and the others came running to help you, obviously seeing the wolf, but not even being bothered like you were.

"Y/n, are you alright?" Sam helps you stand on your feet.

Sam and the wolf had some kind of connection. Sam stared at it and the wolf left.

"So, wolves are normal here?" you spoke with a weak voice.

Sam opened his mouth and closed it again, thinking of how he can explain what just happened. You know that he knows something, and he was struggling to tell it.

"Where's Taehyung?" You scan their faces with no sign of Taehyung.

Holy shit! The wolf ate him! you thought. All you want to see right now is Taehyung. To prove himself. He can't be that wolf. The wolf must have eaten him. It is far too impossible for Quileute Legends to be real.

"We should get going before the other cold ones get here." Sam assists you to get back in the tents, completely ignoring your state of bewilderment.

Maybe it's a Forks thing to be mysterious and quiet. It irks you so much that none of them are even acknowledging what happened. This would be a great story for your mom.

Hey, Mom. Just wanted to call to tell you about how great my day was. So Taehyung, right? Aunt's neighbor, really hot guy I'd totally fuck, got eaten by a werewolf. But that's not too crazy, an incredibly beautiful medieval British man held me hostage, telling me he wanted to suck my blood. What a Forks thing! And everybody saw this huge tall wolf, I'm talking as big as a shelf kind of wolf, but they all acted like it was some puppy leaving the scene. Anyways, Mom, I'm traumatized. Going home in a week.

There is no way you can paraphrase that. No way you can make everything happening right now to sound normal at least one bit. This must be normal in Forks, but this is some Hollywood work in LA already. Things like these don't happen unless there was a shoot next door.

"Hey, you okay?" Leah approaches you. Her concern is seemingly genuine.

"I'm alive, guess I am okay. Where's Taehyung?" You don't bother to look at anyone at all, you drive your attention to the waves landing on the beach, hoping you could synchronize your breathing with them.

"Taehyung's fine. You don't have to worry about him."

"I saw him there. He was... he was red! Like he was burning! And... and there was smoke. Then I blinked, then there's a wolf. I swear it ate him!" Leah looked at you with wide eyes, but her lips were shaking trying to hide a smile.

"You're not taking me seriously! That wolf killed that guy! I don't know. He sounded British!" Leah bit her lip. "That was horrifying. I saw its head removed, there was no blood! What was that?" Leah inhaled sharply before looking at you with assurance.

"Can you calm down? The wolf you saw, don't you think it was described like the one in the legends?" Leah almost shouted, yet still controlling her laugh.

"Shapeshifters? Those are legends, Leah! The wolf ate Taehyung!"

She chuckled. "No, they are real," she protested.

"The British man there was a cold one, a literal vampire. Taehyung didn't kill him, he was already dead."

No.

"Shut up, Leah. I know you hate me, but this is no time for jokes."

She laughs harder. "You're right about me not liking you, but I'm not joking. That dark brown werewolf is Taehyung. One and only Taehyung. 20 year-old Taehyung who lives at the rez. That Taehyung."

'The world is darker than you think. It's not always safe.'

Taehyung had already given you clues from the start. But a word from Leah wouldn't be enough to stop your mind from going everywhere. You needed to hear this from Taehyung.

It was twilight already and the group had decided to spend the night in their cabin, instead of the beach. Sam explained that it was for your safety which until now he hasn't elaborated yet. Emily offered newly baked muffins, but it was too late before you could grab one when all the boys devoured around them. You gave Emily a smile.

"You can have the next batch." She shied away.

Emily looks like an average girl next door. She had fringes and medium length hair, they were very flat. Her skin was like the others, tan and healthy-looking. One thing you haven't examined deeply about her were her eyes. Embry had told you once that staring at Emily would bother Sam, and when you first saw her, you knew immediately why. She had a scar on one of her eyes, they looked painful. It looks like a cat scratch, only if that cat was a lion. It covered half of her face, but that didn't stop her from being lovely. She was still pretty in every way.

Taehyung arrives at the cabin, looking at everybody except you, his body resting on the door frame. He was heavy-breathing like he just finished a race. Sam came after him, giving him a small pat then walking towards Emily. Taehyung's eyes remain on the floor. His actions were complicated. You haven't figured him out yet.

"Y/N, Tae, maybe you can talk outside alone." Sam smirks at Taehyung, and Taehyung smiles back.

'This is no time to be smiling!'

Taehyung finally looks at you before leaving the door and you follow. But he still hasn't talked. And your rage is piling up inside you, you finally take a step forward.

"Care to explain what the hell happened there? I thought you were swallowed by that — that thing!" He gulps, stopping his tracks and turning around to see your face.

"I was scared," you muttered.

He totally understood why you were scared. Because he was just as scared and confused as you when he first discovered who he was, and just like you, he chose to deny it in every way he can, and he hoped that denial can make a change.

"You're not supposed to know about this. I didn't want to put you in this position — of knowing what truly there is." His eyes are sad, like he was a missing child.

The same day Taehyung figured out what he was, his eyes looked exactly the same; with fear, agony, and deprecation.

"So, you're a werewolf?" You felt his pupils dilate.

He looked at you in disbelief as if he hadn't given enough clues yet.

"Werewolf. Shapeshifter. Monster. Dog. Whatever you call it, it wasn’t my choice." His voice was weak, almost ashamed of what he had just said.

"And you kill —"

"Vampires." He finishes your sentence before you could assume. "Just vampires. The cold ones? Those that violate the treaty? They’re real." And so the legends were correct and real, and the evidence stands right in front of you, breathing and staring at you.

But no matter what angle you look at him, he wasn't a monster. He is not what he is described in the fairytales. He wasn't a merciless creature, not even harmful. He was just this young boy who lived near you.

"I get that you're afraid of me. Trust me, so am I."

"I'm not scared of you. If it weren't for you I would be bloodless by now." You bit your lip. "But I'm still a little overwhelmed." You gulped.

He had no words, but he was relieved. And you knew that when his eyes twinkled, the kind he gave you when you were jamming to the songs he had in his truck.

"If it's okay for you, I'm inviting you and Sylvia to my birthday tomorrow. It's just a small gathering."

"Will there be drinks?" you kid.

"Sam doesn't really want me taking any drinks for the meantime." He chuckles.

"Why not?"

"He said that I can't be on alcohol during my first six months of phasing. Why? Do you drink?" he innocently asks.

"Was just teasing." You playfully pushed him before proceeding to walk back in the cabin.

Before you even knew it, Taehyung was irrevocably infatuated with you. He wouldn't have thought that a college girl would give a small attention to someone younger than her, or even finding out about who he truly is and still staying by his side. He had spent so much time denying who he was, but maybe being a werewolf isn't so bad after all, if phasing is what it takes to protect you or anyone at all.

You were just like what he thought you would be — kindred spirits.

The party isn’t filled with loud chats and crowds, it is a gathering. Taehyung tried his best to always stand by your side to give you ease in enjoying such an unfamiliar place as Sylvia gets indulged in conversations with the others, completely forgetting you. Every minute though, he'd have to leave you alone on the couch but he'd return as soon as he can.

There weren't much talks between you and him either, only a couple of smiles exchanged whenever Embry and Quil do something embarrassing in front of the both of you.

It seemed as if the night was the longest night of your life, only occupied with listening to others’ stories and Taehyung sipping a punch from his red cup. He had asked a few questions to keep things interesting, but it was hard to keep the mood flowing. You had asked about his hobbies and all the boring stuff you could think of, and surprisingly he would reply with enthusiasm like he have always wanted to be asked those questions. This makes you more curious how his daily life goes, how many people does he actually talk to.

When the hand of the clock drops at ten, you were just patiently waiting for Sylvia to get on her feet and cut the conversation with the others but she seemed to have consumed more alcohol than she could tolerate and the next thing you knew she was laughing like a maniac. You were stuck in a loop circle of smiling so thinly to everyone you get eye contact with.

You distract yourself with admiring the intricate designs of Taehyung's small home, and the thought of a young Taehyung growing up in where you're sitting currently makes your heart jolt. It's uplifting seeing his pictures on the wall, but there was a difference between his smile before and his smile now. One can easily tell which was more true. You had no clue what it's like to be his kind, hell even now you still can't believe what he is. But it sure shows in the way he had changed judging from the innocent photos that hang on the wooden walls. You've never known him since then, yet you wanted to restore this angel-being beaming at the sight of a camera who now hates being in photos because he thinks he's some sort of a monster.

You wanted to ask him about the pictures, the one where he was wearing a towel with a headband, the one where he was framing his face. All of them speak some kind of connection with you, maybe it's your love for photography that makes you feel this way, but innocence is one of the hardest thing to lay your lenses on.

Then you finally got it. What your professor was talking about, drawing something intangible to your camera. This is what he meant. Your gallery is only filled with landscapes, mostly the aesthetic of architecture and nature. Taehyung is what you needed to change the mood of your photos, not the weather, not the dark ambience of Forks, but his story. If only there's a chance for you to grasp his mystery in a single picture, his adventurous smile in one flash.

A pang of pain in your forehead pulls you back into reality, and the lights that stood above you only made it worse. You needed to leave immediately before the pain has you grunting. Welcomed with a wrapping breeze, you brace yourself and regret wearing the dress Sylvia begged you to wear. She said it was her favorite when she was your age, a Prussian blue dress that stops before your knees with tulle around the hem and a lighter blue ribbon on the chest.

Of course Taehyung who sits beside you would notice your leaving, and before you can inhale the fresh air from the porch, he was already asking what's wrong.

"I don't feel so good. I think I'm gonna have to go home alone since Sylvia's still occupied," you said, pushing on your temples with your thumb and middle finger.

"I can drive you home. I don't think they'd notice that we left, they're all pretty wasted." He chuckles, complementing the high tones of the strong wind that travels past your bodies.

"I'm really sorry. I'm being rude, I mean this is your party... your birthday party and you're going to drive me home."

He places the sippy cup on a coffee table near the entrance, and he was palming his pocket to reach for his keys.

"It's fine, y/n. The party's been dead four hours ago and I can't send you home alone. Do you have the house key or should I go back inside and ask Sylvia for it?"

"She gave me a duplicate. I think it's best we go now. My head's really killing me."

It was unusual, headaches. They rarely come to you since you monitor your phone usage and water intake. You hate getting them because you hated taking meds for it, and you just hoped Sylvia would have a stock of it. Your fingers have been roaming your forehead for a while yet you can't seem to navigate where the pain is, where it's beating. It would be better if you could massage it along the ride but you were struggling to even keep your fingers raised.

Taehyung stops the car in the middle of somewhere as you are hitting your head continuously on the head rest. It was quiet, a deafening silence that rang your ears that brought you to open your eyes. Taehyung wasn't in his seat anymore, only fog filling for his place crawling under your skin.

There was your breathing, crickets, and rustles of trees that travel the air. You weren't sure how to react but one was definite, you were scared. The hand resting on your thigh turning white and wet, breathing faster and heavier as the air seems to be corrupted with toxic poison that does nothing but suffocate you.

Don't get out of the car, don't get out of the car, you chant internally hoping it will help your situation.

"Hello, dear," a slinky voice says through the window, almost similar to the man— vampire from yesterday. Could it be? Could there be more? "Don't make me wait, dear. Open the door and make this easy for the both of us, hm?"

It sounds the exact same as the accent the man had with an alluring tone that draws you to open the door. However, it wasn't just her tempting attempt into convincing you to endanger yourself, the pain in your head inflates as you try to control yourself.

"You want it hard, my dear?" She smirks, you weren't sure but you hear the spread of the corner of her lips.

Then she was in front of the headlights, filled with rage, her eyes dark and dangerous as she showed her predacious teeth. From here, you can feel the vibration of her anger as if she had the ability to let you feel all the harnessed emotions inside her. You can count them one by one: anger, vengeance, and the feeling you get before success. None of them were positive emotions, none of them was mercy. She came here to accomplish one thing.

Your death.

Finally understanding it, inside her browbeating eyes were agony and mourning. She was here to avenge the death of the vampire that Taehyung had killed. She was as beautiful, as seductive with her pale skin and ruby lips, curly strawberry blonde hair that flows until her shoulders.

You discovered that there was a split second of slow agonizing memory of your life before it's taken, and you wished there was none. She runs towards you, careless whether she bashes her head into the glass. She takes your neck, her fingers poking specifically at the sides and right before you can regain your breath your eyes open.

Gasping and catching air, awakening in the seat with Taehyung by your side who drives in silence as Midnight Rambler by The Rolling Stones plays from his rusty stereo.

So if you ever meet the midnight rambler

I'm coming down your marble hall

Well, he's pouncing like a proud black panther

Well, you can say I, I told you so

He sits there, unaware of the chaos that repeats in your head. It all felt so real, the grasp on your neck that locks your throat, you could've sworn you've given your last breath. The pain had stopped, replaced by dizziness that you knew would pass as minutes go by.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Is there something on my face?"

You shake your head. "I didn't know I was staring."

That's right. You didn't know you were staring. There was so much comfort in knowing he never left, the heat of his presence brings you a feeling of security. It's okay now. Taehyung's still here. By your side.

Once reaching home, Taehyung does his best to assist you as though you were ill. It's cute how he acts that way, so careful, so gentle. Upon reaching your room, Taehyung stops before your bedroom door, almost waiting for an invitation.

"I should get going now. I'll tell Sylvia you felt sick." And before he could say good bye, you're already wrapping yourself in the blankets as he passively makes a step away from your door.

"Taehyung," you said, reaching out. "Thank you for today."

He doesn't turn back. "You're welcome. Also, thank you for coming."

A shiver spreads across your back when your lids start to fall, and your body jolts upwards. The beautiful woman from the early nightmare visits your mind again, her face inches from yours close to ripping it apart.

"Taehyung," you whispered, but he heard you within the thin walls of the lonely house. "Can you... stay for a sec? I... I had a nightmare earlier... felt so real. C-can you?"

He walks back, eyes landing everywhere except your body that waits for him on the bed. Is she serious? he thought as you opened the blankets for a space behind you.

"Until you fall asleep?"

You nod. He kicks off his shoes and he positions himself behind you, both of your breaths synchronizing as he lies down softly. You bury your cheek into the pillow when you feel his warmth wrap the room, the security coming back. You turn your head to see him watching you inches away, his hand keeping his head up as he rests his cheek against it. You take his free hand that lies on his right side, pulling it to your stomach requesting for him to scoot closer until his body brushes your back.

You can stay like this, for longer than you can imagine. Just the sounds of your breaths and the hums of his loud thumping heart that makes its way to your upper back, the release of breath from his nostrils that flies over your hair. Peaceful. Safe and sound.

In his embrace, you forget everything: the packing for Los Angeles, the fear of not getting into any university, the supernatural that you had discovered that you still cannot comprehend, the clouding fear that something is coming to get you. In his arm, it's like they never existed. The worries are nothing but disappearing sea foams, a water in heat that evaporates into thin air.

You enclose the hold in Taehyung's hand above your stomach, intertwining them for ease. Falling back into his embrace, he subtly moves away hoping you wouldn't notice. His warmth turning into heat, breathing ragged, hold on you tighter and stronger. Then you feel it, a gentle thrust behind you and he pretends to adjust position. He pulls you closer with the hand on your stomach and you sigh which caused a poking at your butt.

You may not be the smartest person on earth, but it doesn't take a book to know what it was. Taehyung murmurs an apology, his words passing by your neck which sends your stomach into a spiral. You rub your thighs together hoping to dissipate the throbbing in your core, not now.

Not now that Taehyung's beside you. Or maybe it should be now that Taehyung's beside you, you were open for a helping hand. His hand over your head tucks a strand of your hair, the finger brushing on your temple made your aching much harder to ignore. There would be no distraction, no having to worry about who will hear the both of you, for God's sake the house was built in the middle of nowhere, so you thought 'Fuck it.'

You tug his hand to the middle of your chest, to rest them between your breasts as your head turns to face him. He gulps, looking at you intently with lust hovering over his hooded eyes. You lean towards him, your lips reaching his and he pulls away for a second before diving back in. He had pillowy lips, and if it weren't for your hot need at the moment you would let your lips sleep on them for a longer while, but as of right now there are a lot of tensions that need handling.

You leave his hand on your chest while he's still shy to grope one of your breasts. Your hand then wrapping the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, he sighs. That sigh caused the aching to grow, shaking your behind to feel how needy he was and he sighs again. His hand that was on your chest now pushes below the curves of your breasts to pull you closer, to have more friction, to thrust into you.

Until he couldn't take it anymore, he wants you below him as much as you want him on top of you. He hovers above you, his knee swift in spreading your thighs open and he is bucking in a steady pace on your clothed entrance.

"Take me, Taehyung," you breathe the second he leaves your lips.

He takes it slow, burning your insides, as his fingers pull the bow on your chest, untying the effortless knot you had made in the mirror. Too slow to keep up with your throbbing heat, you trail his hand to open the loose front, exposing

your nude bra. His eyes are pinned on yours, and you would make quick glances at his moderate hand you're directing. You unclasp the front of your bra, and when he hears it setting on the bed, he kisses you as if asking if you were really sure. Beneath the feverish endless kiss were words of fear from him, what if he wasn't truly ready.

The last time he had experienced this was long ago, a time before he knew how dangerous he could be. Careless of what his hands could bring, when he hadn't given a single thought for any of his actions. Well, it was one time, only once with the first girl he had ever loved. And the first was always the quickest, but it was unforgettable, he had kept every detail of her daisy fresh skin remembered under his fingertips. The laughs they had shared in between, a significance of the innocence they were about to lose. His head loses in doubts, questions that can only be answered if he risks hurting you tonight.

Then you whisper, "It's okay, you're not going to hurt me." Because in your mind, that was the last thing in his abilities. You smile, "It's okay." Rubbing circles at the back of his trembling hand, his jaw clenches.

Once he had started kissing you again, you parted his lips with your tongue in which he had replied with a tender bite causing you to moan within your throat. This motivates him to grope your breast, aggressing as seconds pass by, pulling a nipple in between his fingers and you arch your back. You rest your feet on his back, synchronizing with the movement of his hips. You admire the way his head moves downward, stopping after every inch of your skin to place a soft kiss until he reaches your breasts to which he places a long stripe lick moving from one bud to another while his eyes remain on yours. He's going to be the death of you.

You pant, trying to reach his hips that came to a halt. His hands pushing the hem of your dress higher, stopping at the middle of your waist. And his evil slow hands, still taking his time, move behind your thighs to pull them away from his back and placing them on his shoulders as he gets comfortable right between them. With gaze pierced on yours, he flats his lips on your clothed slit, tracing the wet spot visible in your white underwear. The thought of you being almost naked underneath the dress ever since earlier brought Taehyung into insanity, he could've fucked you with his fingers on the couch, he could've removed them and left your pussy out in the open as he keeps it in his pocket, he could've done so many things if only he knew earlier how much you'd wanted him just the same.

You look at the empty ceiling, too affected by the darkness in his stare, you were scared you would cum too quickly if you remain watching. He pulls your garment upward to put his bare thumb against your clit, until you couldn't take it and you look down again to see him putting the said thumb in his mouth. Sweeter than the cranberry juice he'd been tolerating to drink, adding that to the list he could've done earlier while your panties were in his pocket; enjoying the sweet fervor of your cunt on his tongue. He plays at your clit, tongue curling to lap up the wetness that increases as his spit mixes in. He knows so well what he's doing, the fragile scoop of his bottom lip from your opening to your clit where he stops.

Everywhere around his lips glistens as the bright light from the hallway outside your room shines upon them. His hands still holding your thighs steady, he slips his tongue inside you which has you shaking and he had to adjust the control in his grip. Once they've settled, he puts his touch above your breasts, flicking both buds in each hand.

You were crumbling under him, desperate for release, grunting in a throaty voice as you tried to keep yourself together. Tears huddle in your eyes, blurring your vision until he stops, now smiling above you while he pulls your underwear away from your body. It doesn't take long for him to get naked and you take time to admire his build. His skin was made of honey, toned and reflective of the warmth he emits. His cock slapping his tummy before he could fully get out of his tight boxers, his tip reaching his button.

He returns to his position between your thighs but this time around he was the one to wrap your legs around his waist. His shaft falls between your slit and he makes subtle movements in burying himself between them.

"I just want to say," he began, "how amazing you are." A gravelly moan of your name escapes his lips as you take matters in your own hand, thumb going over the head of his cock while the rest of your fingers rest wraps his cock.

He thrusts into your hand. His face forming wrinkles, frustration painted across his face. Until he falls on both arms caging your head, bucking for more friction, enjoying the suppleness of your touch. He was groaning, panting, and making a mess of himself to which all echoes from one wall to another. You put a hand on his abdomen to break his movement. He obeys, feeling you part yourself for his cock, torturously slow in entering you.

You pull your hands to your sides, getting a hold of Taehyung's biceps. Opening your lids to watch his pupils dilate as he rams the rest of his length inside your beating entrance.

"Y/n," he groans, brow knotting together when you clench around him. He's going to fall apart, he thought. You wrap him tighter, letting go of yourself in ecstasy, careless whether you melt into the bed or break it, all is well as long as you're looking into his eyes.

He chants your name again and again in a symphony of continuous moaning, and all you could say is how good he sounds. A compilation of ah's and oh's whenever he reaches your spot, his head brushing against it and it felt like nothing but heaven. More, he wants more, if only he could fuck you endlessly he would. The bed hits the wall in coordination of his sharp thrusts, and he's losing himself in you he couldn't care less if he breaks the walls. In sync with the sounds he makes were your gasps and high-pitched whispers of his name that he can see himself in the near future thinking of them and fucking himself alone in his room as he recalls them.

"Tae— oh fuck, Taehyung," you cried out causing his cock to twitch inside you, you call out for more. His name and a couple of curses were the only words you could spew out. Trembling, you feel an explosion of euphoria inside you, letting go of the tight grip around Taehyung's arm.

With one last fluid thrust, he pulls himself out and spills himself on top of your stomach. Both of your breathing slows until they were no longer audible. He rolls to his back beside you waiting to cool down and you take care of yourself by wiping his cum away with the tissue from the nightstand.

"I'm sorry, I made a mess," he says, breaking silence.

You didn't reply, instead you lie on your side to face him and wrap his cock in your warm hand. His cock still hard and wet under your touch, he breathes out a long sigh. "I made a mess of you too."

He chuckles before placing one last kiss on your forehead, and you watch him fall into his dreams. You shut the door, thankful Sylvia didn't come home during the circumstances earlier. You make a note not to leave it open next time.

Next time? Were you actually hoping for a next time? It's not long until you're leaving. Forks is not your home. Your home is on the other side of the country, and everything you grew up with awaits there. Forks is not your home, you tell yourself. The night grows along with your need for sleep, falling onto Taehyung's chest and getting lost in a slumber. You wake to Sylvia opening the door, an indication of her coming home, and you fall asleep again.

The next time you wake up, the sun shining alight from the windows to your eyes, Taehyung was sitting at the end of the bed fully clothed. His head turns slightly, feeling the sense of your waking.

"Y/n, there's not just one who wants to kill you," he says but you couldn't make out a single word, "there's a whole coven of them."

a/n: happy new year! pls dont take the bella comment seriously. also team jacob ftw!!! also appreciate my banner work owo.this is my first descriptive smut like i actually write them having sex idk i hope yall like it tho :* i love y’all!

#taehyung #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #kth smut #smut #bts smut #bangtan #bts scenarios #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts reactions #bts #jungkook #jimin #rm #jin #hoseok #yoongi #angst

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willgrahymn · 3 years

Text

Strangely Estranged

this is my gift to @romansandersprotectionsquad for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange!! I really hope you like it :]

Description: Remus just wants to make his art, but Roman is still distressed by the events of SvS Redux/POF and it's affecting both of their abilities to create. When Remus goes to confront him about it, he gets a little more than he bargained for. Content warnings: Some Remus being Remus-y type lines, blood mentions (again, Remus), a good amount of swearing, and throwing some shade at Janus. Word count: 2747 I’ll rb with the ao3 link :]

- ’Honestly,’ Remus thought, ‘this painting could use more blood.’

He stared at the incomplete project. It was at least the 7th time he started on something today, but no matter what he always came to a pause.

Roman, that motherfucker, he probably had a creative block. Remus didn’t care much about only being half of Creativity, hell, it was fun coming up with the most gory stories he could imagine, but it seemed like whenever Roman hit a block he just had to drag him down with him.

He leaned back against his wall, tossing his paintbrush and catching it again. He stuck the brush in his mouth. Blue paint didn’t taste as good as green, but maybe he was just biased.

Remus glared at the painting. If it had eyes, he was sure they would be staring back, mocking him. Maybe he’d scrap the thing and use it as a target next time he played with his throwing stars.

He ground his foot into the stained carpet. Whether it was paint or blood didn’t matter. Come to think of it, he’d been at a pause for some time now. Roman hadn’t left his room nearly as much either. The only people he’d seen Roman hang out with recently were Virgil, Logan, and (inescapably) Thomas. Then there was Patton and Janus who hardly spent time together before. Now they never left each other's sides. Remus would be a liar if he said it wasn’t somewhat upsetting.

Remus loved drama. He loved watching people fight and be seconds from either murdering each other or making out right then and there. It was exciting to see people so close to their limit. Roman’s drama wasn’t fun though, it was just fucking sad.

He was pretty sure it would stay that way unless he took matters into his own hands. He grabbed his morningstar. He didn’t think he’d actually use it, but if he had to literally knock some sense into his dear brother, then so be it.

Walking down the hall of the mind palace the lighting got brighter. Silently, he wondered how the hell Virgil had managed to live with the other three for so long. With Roman’s obnoxiously loud personality and old villain accusations, he doubted the rogue raccoon could’ve slept the day away like he did when he tried to avoid him.

He stood in front of a tall, white door. It looked like something you’d find in a children’s movie or fairy tale that told the protagonist there was some sort of grand adventure on the other side…

How boring.

Without bothering to knock, Remus opened the door to his brother's room. Maybe for Janus, he would have knocked. There was hardly anything that could truly shock him anymore with all the fun little fantasies that ran through his head, but Janus’ wrath was something he would save for a day when he needed that extra kick.

Then again, maybe he was wrong to say that he couldn't be shocked. Not when Prince Perfect’s room was such a mess. Not when one of his mirrors had been knocked to the floor. And certainly not when he took in the sight of the other half of Creativity, sitting there at the side of his bed in his black undershirt and dress pants.

Something in Remus’ guts told him there was something wrong here, and this time it wasn’t because he had been impaled or ate something Logan and Janus insisted he shouldn’t have. No, this was something else. Something he hadn’t been allowed to see since the two split up. One brother deciding he needed to be pure as white, and the other allowing himself to be the darkest black imaginable.

He stepped closer. Roman hadn’t made a sound, not yet, but it felt like approaching a lion. A lion that stood for courage yet fell to shattered pieces of what it once was.

And maybe if he hadn’t been feeling real, genuine concern for something other than Thomas’ lack of flare in his art, he would have laughed when his mind went to Scar and Mufasa.

It wasn’t like he cared though. Concern, maybe. But he couldn’t be bothered to care for his brother who he hardly ever spoke to for purposes other than making him uncomfortable with his ideas.

Roman shifted on his bed, still not bothering to look to see who entered. “I already told you I don’t want to talk about it.”

Remus rolled his eyes. Of course his brother would choose to be a little bitch about this.

“First off, you didn’t tell me shit.” He said. Roman sat up, looking at him. A mix of defense and curiosity in his glare. “Second, I’m not the one making your life any harder than I normally would.” His brother scoffed. “Aren’t you though?”

“You’re the one affecting my work!”

Roman huffed, pulling his legs up to his chest and hugging them closely. He liked the pressure. Logan would probably be able to tell him why if he asked. He remembered hearing a conversation between him and Virgil when the darker first showed up. Something about pressure was a stress reliever.

At the same time, Remus crossed his arms, tapping his boots and rubbing his fingers against his sleeves. Whatever response he had been waiting for didn’t come. Maybe he should leave. Pretend whatever this was wasn’t happening and go focus on something else until the other half got his shit together. That would be a lot easier than standing here, the air of the room suffocating him into silence.

Either way, neither brother knew what to say. It would be easy for the pensive prince to turn around, to tell the other not to speak to him and to go back to wherever he came from. At least it should have been.

Remus bit down on his lip not minding the pain. It wouldn’t do any good to try to beat at what was already broken. “I can go find someone else.” It was more of a statement than an offer.

His twin tensed. “Please don’t.”

Remus just nodded. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. Normally he didn’t have to think this hard. He didn’t want to care about his brother and his problems. He knew at least part of the reason behind the other’s mood was because of him because Roman hated him and being compared to him. Yet still, despite being twins he couldn’t help but feel like he had to care for his baby brother.

‘What the fuck am I supposed to do now?’

He was Dark Creativity, the embodiment of intrusive thoughts and other so-called disturbing ideas and imagery. It wasn’t something that ever upset him, and hell it was fun making the other Sides and Thomas uncomfortable. It was fun telling Patton things that would make him shift in his seat and try to change the topic as if nothing had happened. It was fun to create thoughts that would fuel anxiety and haunt the sad little Side who harbored them. It was more than amusing to sit beside Roman, watching as he tried to do his work and ignore his bothersome brother’s constant suggestions that ruined his fairytale fantasies.

If Thomas didn’t want to use all the available ingredients he gave him to create that was fine. He could manage just fine! Really, the repression only made him stronger.

But Roman knew how to make people feel those warm fuzzy feelings that were like caterpillars in your ribs. Something that looking at it now, maybe Remus regretted not trying to pick up on the wholesome little messages that his brother always cared about. At least maybe then he’d have a better idea how to deal with all of these emotions going on. Even Logan would have done better in this situation.

His brother sighed, sitting up and turning to finally face him. He looked worse than expected. No wonder he didn’t want to see anyone else. Remus couldn’t tell what he was feeling, taking in the sight of this mess. Roman’s brow furrowed, his jaw clenched. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, his nails digging into his skin.

“Why are you still here?” He asked.

Remus bit his lip and chose to ignore the question. “I know you’re pissed about Jan being accepted.”

“Yeah duh,” Roman scoffed. He sounded like a dam ready to break. “Excuse me for not being absolutely overjoyed at this… Manipulative Malefactor being accepted by our very own Moralidad.”

The Duke nodded. Sure, you could call him friends with Double D, but he wasn’t going to be like him and lie and deny that Janus certainly had… a way… of getting what he wanted, whether it meant using others as a stepping stone or not.

“I never should have trusted him.” Roman continued. “I mean, I never even liked him. Hell, right after he revealed himself to Thomas I said I hated him… I only went along with what he wanted because he pretended to be someone I’m supposed to be able to trust, and then he used me again by flattering me with fake love and bringing up Thomas’ dreams. And I just– I just keep falling for it because I’m an idiot and I keep fucking everything u—”

He hadn’t noticed Remus approaching him or pulling him into a hug until it happened.

It was tense at first. Roman froze at contact. Slowly, he sunk into his brother's arms, not caring about the way the material scratched against his face. He just wanted to feel safe.

“What’s happening?” He asked.

Remus wasn’t sure he had an answer.

“I think Patton would refer to it as brotherly bonding, but I really don’t know.” Remus laughed lightly.

Eventually, Remus slowly pushed his brother off of him, still holding onto his shoulders and smiling in a way he could only hope came off as sympathetic. On any other occasion, Roman would despise the fact that his brother was just the tiniest bit taller than him, but right now he didn’t care. He wouldn’t tell him it was good for hugs though, he hadn’t lost all of his dignity.

“Listen, Ro-bro, we’re twins. What affects you affects me too. I know it might not change much, and you might still not want to be around me. That’s fine. Just… remember that we’re two Sides in a trenchcoat trying to make up for one, got it?” Roman nodded, rubbing at his eyes and smiling slightly. “I would have expected a darker way of phrasing that from you.”

Remus shook his head. “I may not think much, but I do know enough to understand it’s probably not the best timing for it.”

He smiled, watching as his brother lightened up a bit.

The room was still a mess. They’d have to fix it up later. Not right now though, he didn’t think his brother was ready enough to face his own destruction.

“C’mon, get your outfit on.” “Huh?” “You weren’t planning to stay locked up in here like Rapunzel all day, were you?” “I mean… kind of, yeah?” Remus shook his head. “Not happening,” He said. “We gotta do some dumb shit to make you feel better.” “Ree, I’m fine now, really.”

He ignored him, grabbing Roman’s stupidly bright white shirt off the floor and throwing it at him. Checking around for his sash afterwards.

“You at least gotta put yourself together! I know how you are about your looks– even if mine are better.”

Roman rolled his eyes before pulling his shirt on, grabbing his sash from under his pillow. “I can’t stand you.” They both knew it wasn’t the truth. Not right now at least.

“I’m going to fix… this.” Roman said as he waved his hand in front of his face.

The prince left to his bathroom, grabbing some of his makeup from his desk as he went. Remus flopped onto his brother's bed. This wasn’t exactly where he expected his day to go. It was fine though. Actually, it probably went a lot better than whatever he originally planned. Bitching at Roman could be fun, but he doubted it would have made anything better. Hopefully getting rid of some emotional block would stop the art block too. It sounded like something Logic would approve of.

Remus stared up at the glow in the dark stars that littered his brother’s ceiling. Roman’s room was less loud than usual. More quiet. Like a heartbeat that once echoed so loudly had suddenly stopped, or a fire which finally died out leaving nothing but smoke and ash behind.

He heard it when the faucet turned on, when a hairbrush hit the floor, and when Roman cursed at his eyeliner.

‘His hands must be shaky.’ They’d have to fix that.

Remus got up again, half-assedly making his brother’s bed and tidying up the place. He didn’t know where everything went, so he could only hope he was putting stuff where it shouldn’t have ever been. Even if he was trying to cheer up his brother now didn’t mean he couldn’t work in advance to cause trouble for him later.

When Roman came out he looked as if nothing had happened. Like nobody would be able to look at him and think twice of if he was okay. It was an art in itself to be a raging storm and to settle down to the tranquility of dewdrops on flower petals within a matter of minutes.

When had he learned to do that?

Or maybe it was just that he didn’t spend enough time around the other to know. Maybe if one of the other Sides saw Roman now, they wouldn’t even have to study his movements or expression to know he had been upset. It would be as easy as looking at him and recognizing the scripted smiles and rehearsed words for what they were. Was he really that bad at being a brother to fall for his own twins’ tricks?

Roman shifted on his feet. “So… What are we doing?”

“Oh!” Remus bounced, the beads on his shirt clicking together. “Well I was thinking about it earlier and since Papa Patton and Daddy Dee are spending so much time together–” “Never call them that ever again.” “You never let me have fun! But fine. You know how those two have been hanging out more.”

“I can’t let you do anything mean to Patton, he’s off limits.”

Remus pouted. “I thought you were mad at him!” “He’s Patton!” Remus glared, and Roman glared back.

Remus sighed. “You’re so lame, but I guess we can just focus on the snake. Oh! And don’t worry, I can take the fault. Besides, I haven’t fucked around with him in a while and have been waiting for a good day to do it.” He grinned. Roman would have considered it evil, but this, this was pure sibling mischief. “I was thinking we could start subtle like moving his shit 2 inches to the left and work our way up from there. I was thinking about leaving my pet rats in his room and letting them go wild, but he is a snake and I don’t trust like that…”

Roman tried to stifle a laugh. Remus tried not to smile. Remus turned away, heading to his room to put his abandoned work away before anything else. Roman, he noticed, hadn’t followed. Slowly, he turned to him. “Are you coming?” “Oh, yeah I just...“ Roman paused, taking a deep breath and smiling softly. A real smile, not the mask he had given before. “Thank you. For doing all this.” Remus’ eyes softened, nodding as he spoke again. “Don’t go getting too soft on me, Ro-bro. I’m still going to attack your side of the Imagination.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” The two brothers stood there, an awkward yet comfortable quiet moment of understanding neither wanted to interrupt. “C’mon,” Remus said, waving his brother along. “We have vengeance in our hearts and glitter in our pockets. Let’s fuck shit up.”

The prince glanced to himself in the mirror. Now wasn’t the time to focus on his shattered world view, or how his brother may not be as horrible as he thought. Now was the time to have fun messing with the one who had messed with him.

He looked to his brother, eyes sparkling. “Let’s do it.”

#Sanders Sides #Roman Sanders #Remus Sanders #Creativitwins #platonic creativitwins #aaa #I hope this is good #Virgil's Volumes

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