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inkedwarrior · 4 years ago

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Prompt #1

AN: So, I have had this prompt forever and never gotten around to writing it. But now it's done. I did change some things because they fit easier with how I write. It got way longer than I intended and I'm still not super happy with the ending, but still, I hope you guys like it. Thank you @silvafox for the inspiration. Prompt: You've always hated your power to reveal people true opinions of each other, it got your parents divorced, after all. But after jokingly using the power at a work party while drunk, you realize your partner/spouse loathes you. But your worst enemy, an asshole coworker, loves you. Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

In general, being a mind fairy wasn’t the easiest. When you were younger, you had a hard time coping with your gifts. Your mother, being a mind fairy herself, tried her best to help you, but while she mainly focused on dreams, you strayed between the mind, dreams and thoughts. But it all paled in comparison when you discovered another part your gifts around your twelfth birthday. It was a normal morning, you and your parents eating breakfast together before the start of the day. Noticing a weird aura around them, you closed your eyes to delve deeper. You wish you never had.

What followed were the worst minutes of your life and from that moment on, you hated that part. You hated the fact the their divorce was your fault, because if you hadn’t delved deeper into their bond, they never would have revealed their true opinions of each other. You couldn’t stand to know that your parents loathed each other and the fact that they found out was your fault. Over the years you’ve tried to find other fairies with the same ability but so far you’ve come up short. There wasn’t much information in books either, so you could never put a name to ability. It didn’t matter, because after what happened to your parents, you vowed to never use it again. So you secluded the part deep within yourself and tried to live your life as best as you could.

You went to school, met your partner, who would later become your spouse and eventually got a job offer to teach at Alfea, a very prestigious school for fairies and specialists. You jumped at the chance when Headmistress Dowling contacted you with the offer and since your partner could work from anywhere, you packed up your things and moved to Alfea. The pain and guilt of what you’ve had done as a child was always there but you learned to live with it. You had told your partner of what had happened but asked them no never speak of it, and noticing what a discomfort the subject brought you, had dropped it.

Teaching at Alfea was everything you’ve ever dreamed of except for one thing. Or rather one person. Saul Silva. The headmaster of the specialist had made it his personal mission to make your days a living hell. He was always getting on your nerves, complaining about this or that, making comments under his breath when he thought you weren’t listening. If the two of you ever had to work together, you spent more time arguing than anything else. Farah quickly noticed and tried to keep the two of you apart as much as possible.

“Hey Y/N, wait up,” looking behind you, you notice Ben Harvey juggling several plants at the same time. Laughing, you offer to take some of them off his hands. He generously accepts and the two of you continue to stroll towards the greenhouses. Arriving there, the smile on your face disappears quickly, seeing Saul leaning against the wall with that cocky smirk of his.

“Ben, I need advice on a couple of things, do you have time?”, he follows the two of you inside. Wanting to get as far away from him as possible, you put down the plants on a bench and noticing Ben doesn’t need any help, you hurry away, pushing past Saul and closing the door behind you. You would never admit it out loud, but despite getting on your nerves most days and just in general being an asshole towards you, you couldn’t help but to notice the fact that Saul Silva was attractive. You hated yourself for even looking at him like that, but there was something that stirred a feeling deep in your gut every time you looked at him. You always shook those feelings away, reminding yourself that you were in a loving relationship, with a partner who loved you.

The thought of your partner halted your steps. How long had it been since the two of you slept in the same bed? Shared a kiss? Thinking back, you couldn’t remember. Lately you had been working late with Farah, planning a new lesson plan for next year, and more often than not, you had opted to stay in you overnight suite that you vacated at Alfea. And your partner was constantly working, traveling. But had it really been that long since the two of you saw each other. Checking your phone, you noticed that your last phone call was over 2 months ago. Arriving at your door, you went inside and sat down. Staring at the phone, your finger hovering over the call button. Despite the feeling telling you to not call them, you pressed down and held the phone to you ear. Several dials tones pass by before they pick up, sounding slightly out of breath. They almost sound surprised to hear from you and the feeling grows worse. Not wanting to argue you nicely ask them is they’re still coming to the annual Alfea Christmas party, hosted for the teachers each year. Agreeing to a time and date, you quickly hang up, neither of you uttering any words of love or comfort. Curling up under the covers, you close your eyes hoping that sleep will come soon.

Two weeks later

You were drunk. Or maybe tipsy. Either way, you had consumed far too much alcohol and decided to maybe switch to water for the rest of the night. Your partner was chatting up someone on the other side of the room, and even though there’s a lot of people around, you see them flirting. Somehow, it doesn’t bother you. It should bother you that the person promising you the future, forever and always, is flirting openly, but it don’t. When did this happen? When did you fall out of love with each other. Noticing you watching them, they make their way over to you. Sitting down, they take your hand, asking if everything is alright. Looking at them, you decide that no, everything is not alright.

And that’s when you notice it. The orange aura surrounding them, the same aura that once had surrounded your parents. Through the haze induced by the alcohol, you stare at them, unconsciously delving deeper into their mind. What you find should leave you in tears, but it doesn’t. The feeling of anger, loathe and tired is spreading throughout their body, and it is all directed at you. You let go of their hand.

“So, where you ever going to tell me?”, you stand, looking them in the eyes. You’re just tired now, and you want straight answers. You pull them to a quiet corner, out of prying eyes.

“Tell you what?”, they look confused for a moment, but you see the understanding slowly dawning in their eyes. Anger quickly surfaces and you don’t even have the strength to defend yourself.

“You said you never wanted to talk about this, and I never thought you would ever read me like that,” they’re upset and you understand. But you don’t care. Exhaling slowly through your nose, you take their hand.

“If you want out of this marriage, you should have told me,” they look down at your joined hands. Eyes meeting, you know this is the end. They take a few steps back, fiddling with their ring. Making the decision for them, you slid your ring off, handing it over. Sharing one last look, they turn on their heel, walking away.

“Hrm,” a quiet cough startles you and turning around, you see Saul watching you with a look you can’t quite understand. But it isn’t what catches your focus the most. It’s the warm red aura surrounding him, all while watching you. You choke on air and he steps towards you, a hand stretched out.

“Are you alright?”, gone is the usually cocky facade he sports around you, instead a genuine concern etched onto his face. You try to utter something but it gets caught in your throat. Spluttering you sit down, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. You know what the red aura means, granted you haven’t seen it much, but you remember it surrounding both you and your partner, former partner, in the early days of your relationship. It doesn’t make sense. Saul hates you, of that you’re pretty sure. He’s always an asshole and he never gives you a break. He should not be surrounded by the warm red light around you. Not knowing what to feel, you do the only thing you can. You bolt.

“Y/N, wait up,” you can hear his footsteps behind you and you turn around so quickly the two of you almost collide.

“Why do you care Saul?”, you don’t intend for it to sound so harsh, but you’re tired and confused. A lot has happened in the span of a very short time tonight. You stare him down, waiting for an answer.

“Why do I care? I know I haven’t exactly been very nice towards you and Ben told me off a couple of weeks for it,” feeling even more confused you continue to look at him. A blush is rising on his cheeks and he’s claps his hands together, so far from the person you’re used to him being.

“I’m not good at this, and I know you have no reason to believe what I’m about to say,” he takes a step towards you and the look in his eyes have you standing still.

“Good at what?”, you cock your head, and then the red around him glows even brighter than before. He seems nervous all of a sudden and clears his throat.

“Talking about this, eh, talking about feelings,” you gape at him, feeling speechless.

“What feelings?”, you remember that he doesn’t know about your ability, so you ask the question, despite that fact that his aura says everything. He cares for you, no he loves you.

“I care about you. I know that I haven’t exactly shown it, but emotions isn’t my strong suit and when I felt this way about you, I panicked. You’re married and I didn’t want to ruin anything so I thought the best way was to act like an asshole,” he speaks clearly and you want to laugh out loud. This situation is more messed up than you would like it to be but the feeling you usually get around him stirs in your gut once again.

“My partner just left. I gave them my ring back,” holding up your hand, you show him the blank spot where your wedding ring used to be. Explaining that your marriage has been over for quite some time and this was only waiting to happen, you see him smile, and you can’t help but to smile back. Feeling that this conversation is far away from being over, but something tells you that it can wait. Taking a step forward, you grab his collar before he can react and rise on your toes to press your lips against his. The red swirls around the both of you and for once in your life, you don’t hate your ability.

#saul silva #saul silva x reader #saul silva imagine #fate the winx saga #fate winx saga

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lillianofliterature · 4 years ago

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LOTR preferences || 1/?

the first of many the lord of the rings and the hobbit preferences to come.

DO NOT REPOST.

if gifs not sourced, they were found on google, lmk if they’re yours!

(more below the cut-off)

what made them fall in love with you

aragorn

Your kindness and compassion. To Aragorn, you were the most radiant soul he had ever encountered in his life. Your innate kindness always managed to capture his attention and set his heart ablaze. You were just so good to everyone and he could never get enough of you. He often found himself just sitting in your company, listening to your conversations with the other members of your Fellowship (especially the talks you would have with the hobbits, who you seemed to enjoy the most). You were always eager to display the softest parts of yourself if it meant encouraging another. He noticed every lovely thing about you and found himself drawn to your company at all hours of the day.

boromir

Your strong-willed spirit and love for Gondor. Boromir could not help but find your strong-willed mind absolutely irresistible. When he had first met you amongst the council in Rivendell, he had been stunned into silence by your forthcoming opinions and wisdom on the matters at hand. In the following weeks as you travelled along with him as a member of the Fellowship, you had spoken openly about your home in Gondor and defended its integrity in your conversations. It was one night under the still, blue radiance of the Lothlorien forest that you comforted him about his strength as the son of the steward. You reassured him about the upheld honor of your shared homeland - and he knew he had found the one whom he would marry.

faramir

The way you treat him. Faramir had never been treated to so well by anyone - other than Boromir - until you came into his life. Usually, people of the court and especially those closely associated with his father would compare him to his brother and echo the scrutinizing comments his father would always have in store for him. But with you, the loveliest soul he had ever met, he did not have to be someone he was not. You never ceased to treat him as an equal, you never compared him to anyone or anything (except to say that he was superior in practically every way), and you always found something about him to compliment. To say that falling in love with you was the easiest choice that had ever fallen upon his shoulders was an understatement. You had taught him how to gain his sense of confidence and self-worth, and Faramir adored you for it.

eomer

You are an advocate for others. As a dear friend of his sister, Eomer had known you for most of his life, yet somehow he had been blind to the great store of strength and righteous anger you harbored against the injustice of your fellow people. It was on one day, by the fire pit in the Great Hall of his uncle, that he witnessed you lash out at the vile Grima Wormtongue, and his eyes had been opened. When Wormtongue’s unwanted compliments had once again fallen upon his sister, you had lunged to stand in front of her before he could twist his talons into her golden hair, spewing forth a barrage of defensive countermarks to his predatory nature. You had saved his sister that day and many after from the grime of a malicious minion, and Eomer soon found himself enamored by your natural tendency to become an advocate for others in any given situation. You were a voice for the oppressed, and he admired you greatly for it.

eowyn

How you support her. The exact moment that Eowyn felt her heart align with yours was the day you encouraged her fight for equality. You never understood how there could be such strict prejudice against the strength and capability of a woman’s soul. From that first conversation onward, she found herself feeling rather supported and secure in knowing that she was not the only one who was ready to embark on a path to ensure a woman’s right to fight for her own people. From then on, Eowyn’s process of falling in love with you was a quick descension of admiration and warmth. You were an honorable person and she hardly went a day without thinking about it.

elrond

Your intelligence and humility. Elrond had known you for many centuries and had always taken note of your humble countenance and vast intelligence. You could often be found in one of the open libraries somewhere around the palace grounds, endulging every word from the tomes of his vast collection. He knew he had taken a misstep in keeping his feelings platonic when he found himself following your silhouette as you walked past him (usually with a book in your hands) and when he realized just how much he liked the sound of your soft-spoken voice. You were never one to engage in any sort of drama or foolish arguments, but you did have a voice when you felt it neccesary to speak up, which was always carefully said with avid wisdom riddled within your words. You bore an elegance in your being that he cannot put out of his mind - not that he would ever want to.

arwen

Your courage. Arwen had grown up surrounded by the voices of great councils and the many virtues of her elven people, but there was one thing she felt was lacking when it came to acting on the behalf of others - something that she found in you. You were a courageous being with the most selfless heart she had ever met. You were always willing and ready to jump to the aid of others, no matter their inferiority, which was not always true of her own people who sometimes thought it better to let the natural course of the world take its place.

legolas

Your combat skills. To say that Legolas was impressed with your combat skills that equaled his own was an understatement, although he had no problem with being very hesitant about offering any compliments at first. In fact, he found himself intimidated by your grace and precision in the adrenaline of a battle, which was a feeling he was very unaccustomed to experiencing. Soon enough, after he learned to swallow his shock (and pride), he found that the two of you made a fantastic team - perhaps in more ways than one.

galadriel

Your good-natured spirit. Galadriel was not one to be easily caught off guard by what she heard in the minds of mortal men, but she most certainly was when she searched the contents your heart upon meeting you. In the humming chaos of your human mind, she saw your true purity glimmering at the center of your being like a beacon of hope. You sought no ill will toward anyone around you, nor could she discern any lust for power or riches. She found your sorrow and your compassion, mingled together like the roots of a great mountain - you truly desired happiness and contentment for those around you. She thought it both peculiar and incredibly fascinating, that a human could be so selfless and readily offer their companionship and love.

haldir

Your communion with nature. It was common knowledge that the elves of Middle-Earth cherished starlight and nature above all else, save their own communities and ancestral homes. However, there were some that were far more connected to the earth and its wonders than others and were far freer in their spirit when it came to such things - you were one such person. When Haldir had discovered this about you, he couldn’t deny the great admiration he felt growing within him. There was never a moment when you were not speaking, singing, or giving back in some way to the world around you. You were truly in love with your world and your people’s way of life and Haldir respected you greatly for it.

gimli

Your hair. Although it was true that dwarves were fond of facial hair on the features of their own women, Gimli held no prejudice against you for not looking a certain way. He found himself rather enamored by your natural beauty, although it was different from his own people. Specifically, the red-haired dwarf was drawn to your hair and the different texture and hue that it held from his own. Where his was scraggly and coarse (because it hardly saw a brush or decent scrub), yours was well-maintained and shimmered in the sunlight. It might have seemed somewhat shallow of him to fall in love over your looks, but he felt no less attracted to you after he really got to know you. In fact, he liked you even more.

frodo baggins

Your companionship. You were always there for Frodo Baggins, no matter what situation had risen out of the blue. There were only a few people who he felt truly understood what he had gone through and you were one of them. All throughout his life, you had been a true friend and had never given him a reason to distrust you. You were someone he could depend upon and somene he grew to feel very strongly for over time. Frodo was sure about his feelings for you when he realized that should you ever be gone from his side, his life would be rather grim without having your light spirit there to illuminate it. He wanted to ensure that would never happen.

samwise gamgee

Your dancing. Samwise Gamgee had been irreversibly smitten with you since the first time he caught you dancing to a fine tune that was being played in the market square. Since that moment, his eyes always sought you out wherever you happened to be. There was never a moment when you weren’t tapping your toes or humming along to whatever melody happened to be be playing around you - for there was always music to be heard somehwere in the Shire - and there was always a frushed twirl to your skirts whenever you moved about a room. Your zest for life, just like the spices he loved mixing with his homegrown herbs, mesmerized the hobbit.

merry brandybuck

Your free spirit. Meriadoc Brandybuck was sure he would have ended up a bachelor with the way he always seemed to attract mischief with his fun - that was, of course, until the young hobbit ran into you. You seemed to have the same hankering for adventures, no matter how silly or preposterous. In fact, you had quite a few hair-brained ideas of your own to contribute to the fun you both seemed to find together. Because of that fact, Merry felt he had found a kindred spirit with you much like he had with his best friend Pippin - except he wasn’t in love with Pippin - he was in love with you. How could he not be?

pippin took

Your acceptance. It was no easy feat to find yourself weak in the knees around Pippin Took, the foolish young hobbit who seemed to have invented the word klutz. He was an idiot most times and other times he was just plain reckless - but you never scrutinized him for that. In fact, you felt as though Pippin was a breath of fresh air, especially with how much he managed to make you laugh (usually at his own expense, but he never seemed to mind). Pippin appreciated the fact that you liked him as he was, mess and all. Even more so, he loved that you were always there to get him out of trouble, no matter the hour or the incident.

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stardust-kenobi · 4 years ago

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Mine

Poe Dameron x Fem!Reader

Requested by: @nocontr-ol 💕 sorry it took so long, lovely. I had finals and projects to focus on. (but now I am on break, yay!!)

Summary: A man won’t leave you alone at the cantina, lighting a fire in your boyfriend, Poe, who now needs to show you that you belong to him, and him only.

Warnings: Angry Poe. SMUT. So smutty, rough sex, oral, mild bondage, spanking, female masturbation. Poe cussing (bc it’s hot as fuck). !TW: Unwanted physical advances from a stranger!

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: it took me forever to finish this bc the end of the semester is here and I’m swamped with work. Poe’s behavior is probably a bit out of character...but I’d like to think he has a jealous side that we don’t see in the films

gif is not mine

The lights were dim on your skin as the exterior shine faded with the evening. Your crossed arms rested against the bar while you were alone with your drink and your thoughts. Poe was still within eyesight across the cantina, catching up with an old friend. Every minute or so his eyes darted to your gaze for a moment to ensure that you were where he left you, and that you were safe. You loved him and how deeply he cared for you.

You trace the top of your glass with your finger tip. Your ears drowned out the music blasting and voices crowding the room. You were known to get lost in your own mind when you were alone, something Poe always thought would get you in trouble. A figure meets your left sided peripheral vision. It must be Poe, you thought. Without verifying your thoughts, you turned to wrap your arms around him.

Oh, no. This isn’t Poe.

“Well I guess I don’t even need a pickup line then do I?” A strange and unfamiliar voice startled you as you look up at the figure. You quickly backed away, noticeably unsettled. You offered a warm smile and immediately reject him with a hint.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were my boyfriend”

“I could be your boyfriend, sweetheart...for the night of course” the towering figure continued, chuckling at his own words, paying no attention to your disinterest.

“No thank you, I’ll just go meet up with my boyfriend now” you politely declined again. As you turn to walk away, the man grabs your arm aggressively, halting your actions.

“No, stay a while, I don’t bite” he winked.

“Again, no thank you” you snarled. This only seemed to intrigue him further. His grip refused to release you. You’d hoped Poe had already had a moment to check on you across the room again. You checked where he stood before, he wasn’t there.

“C’mon, I really want you. If you come back to my place I’ll definitely make it worth your time.” His words slurred now, suddenly obvious that he was drunk. That explained why he couldn’t take the biggest of hints.

“I dont know what else to say to you except go away. I’m not interested” you stood your ground, your warm and polite smile fading quickly. His hand removed itself from your arm and travelled forcefully to your waist. Acting on your instinct, you pulled away, but with not enough force to separate yourself. He pulled you into him, no matter how much you tried to free yourself.

“I don’t think I’m taking no for an answer. I like when women play hard to get” he whispered.

Before the stranger had a chance to bother you any more, his grip and his presence were ripped from your body and out of your field of vision when Poe shoved him off you with a look of rage so terrifying in his eyes.

“What did he say to you?” Poe turned to you.

“He wouldn’t leave me al-” you began. Poe cared little to hear your whole statement considering he already caught a glimpse of what occurred. He heard enough.

His fist tightened into a ball, flung back behind him, and plunged into the scumbag that harassed you. You gasped at his actions. The man became defenseless in his inebriation and fell to the cold and crowded floor.

“Poe!” You cried out to him to stop. His fist pulled back again, but stopped itself when he heard your protest. He looked at you, arm shaking, then looked at his knuckles in shock that he was about to actually beat this man.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch her, talk to her, or even look at her again, you got it?” He yelled. Jealously and rage rushed through his veins and made itself known in the tone of his voice. “She’s mine, asshole”. He shoved the man deeper into the floor. You knew you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it was attractive to watch him defend you like that, and be so possessive of you at the same time. Overall, though, you were relieved to be rescued from the situation.

“Poe, baby, look at me” You demanded, grabbing his warm face, surely steaming from his evident anger.

“I think he got the point. Just leave it alone!” You protested.

“Let’s go” he ignored your words.

“What?”

“I said let’s go. Get your stuff, c’mon. We’re leaving” Poe emphasized, grabbing your bag from the bar and wrapping his arms firmly around your waist before leading you out with him.

“Hey! Stop it, Poe. Let go of me!” you hissed. The cold air struck your skin at the moment you both exited the cantina.

“I didn’t do anything”

“I know you didn’t. I saw what he did. But I am taking you home, now.” He insisted. His eyes were still so angry and this confused you. Poe said he wasn’t upset with you, so why was he so stern toward you? Why was he rushing to get home?

—-

When you arrived to his place, Poe slammed the front door open with an unnecessary strength and guided you inside with a hand on your back. Swiftly, you both removed your coats and hung them by the door. You’d not said one word to each other since leaving the cantina. At this point, you were scared to speak to him.

“Are you okay?” you broke the sharp silence hesitantly while Poe leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, and his gaze directed at nothing but the thoughts running through his head.

Rather than answering your question, he slowly moves over to you across the room where you leaned against the wall. He placed both hands above your head on the wall and brought his face incredibly close to yours.

“You know, I’d hoped I wouldn’t see the day when another man tried to take you from me” He began softly “But, tonight...I had to watch that happen”

“Poe I was going to get away from hi-” You started, only to be cut off.

“No, no. I know that, baby. I do...but I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if I don’t take you, right now, and give you a little reminder...that you are mine”. The coarseness in his whisper against your ear sent shivers and excitement all throughout your body.

You were speechless, and he noticed.

“Do you know how it felt to see his hands tightened around your waist? Do you know what that did to me?” His voice was rough, but barely broke a whisper.

“W-what did it do, Poe?” You inquired. You were turned on by his behavior and he hadn’t even touched you yet. His hand met your throat and applied pressure, pushing you back into the wall.

“It lit a fire in me, y/n. Jealously that I’d never felt before” he growled. “And now I have to put that fire out”

“Okay” you agreed, still mostly speechless from hearing Poe talk to you like this.

“Now you’re gonna go take your clothes off, all of it, lay on the bed, and wait for me” he demanded. You’d not dare tell him no, you were too excited for what he was going to do.

You obeyed his commands and remove all your clothes before laying flat on your back atop the comfortable bed. Minutes later you heard his footsteps approach the bedroom. As he came into view, you observed his stance. He had his buttoned down shirt open at the top, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He held a glass of whiskey in his hand, swirling it before finishing it off, never breaking his gaze at your naked body.

He groaned quietly at the sight. You smirked at him, but his gaze remained stern, as it had since you left the cantina.

“Fuck. You’re perfect, y/n” he admired your body while you were on display for him. Only for him.

After resting his glass on the table, he removed his black leather belt. Rather than throwing it to the floor. He placed it gently next to you on the bed. What was that for? You wondered.

His shirt followed the belt, but was dropped to the floor. He stood there, in the same spot, still staring at you, now with only his black pants clinging to him. You admired his chest, wanting it closer to you.

“Poe...” you called to him

“Touch yourself” He instructed. You wasted no time, spreading your legs open to give him a better view. Your fingers found their way to your clit and began circular motions that made your body jump from your already heightened arousal.

“That’s it” he encouraged you. “Enjoy it while you can, you won’t be touching yourself for the rest of the night. You won’t be touching anything, actually”

You gasped, realizing now that he had many intentions for the belt that he left next to you. You continued to pleasure yourself for him, small moans escaping your lips for Poe to hear. He licked his lips subtly, eyebrows furrowed. He was so ready to get a taste of you but made himself wait so he could enjoy the show.

It was as if he couldn’t handle NOT touching you anymore when he walked toward the bed and grabbed the belt aggressively.

“Turn around, lay on your stomach” he said, and you do as he commanded.

The clinking of the metal on the belt grabbed your attention. You were unable to see what was happening, but you had an idea.

“Hands behind you”

Poe placed his knees on either side of your ass and grabbed your wrists together. With the belt in the shape of an 8, both your wrists are placed in each side before he quickly tightens it around them. With your hands bound behind your back, you were at his mercy.

He backed up, and pulled your hips up and backward with him. With the side of your face planted into the bed and your ass in the air, Poe was given open access to your very sensitive, already dripping sex. His fingertips circled your wetness and without much warning, he plunged two of them inside of you from behind. You gasped loudly, not expecting him yet.

“My god, you’re so wet for me already” he reveled, groaning at the feeling of your soaked warmth around his fingers. He curled them inside you, pumping at a steady pace.

“Fuck, Poe” you whimpered from your pleasure.

“You like that?” He said softly, barely above a whisper. Then, you feel the sudden sensation of his tongue against your clit with his fingers still working away inside you.

“S-shit” you moaned, the pleasure grew significantly.

Your arms squirmed as you wanted the ability to reposition yourself. The frustration of being restricted was arousing to you, something you didn’t know you liked until now. His tongue lapped between your folds and circled your clit rhythmically, his consistency pushing you to the edge already.

“Poe I’m gonna cum” you announced. He knew how to make you cum quickly and knew not to change anything about what he was doing.

“Oh my god, Yes” You moaned. You fell apart so gracefully onto his mouth and around his digits. Your orgasm flooded your body and somehow felt more intense at the arched angle he had you in. Your arms involuntarily squirmed again, wanting to grasp something in your state of euphoria. He noticed, and used his unoccupied hand to grab your bonded hands resting on your tailbone, a gesture that in the moment was so romantic.

As he picked up on your signals that you had fallen from your high, he removes his touch. You could see from your peripheral vision that he took his fingers into your mouth, savoring your taste.

“Now I have to show you who this pussy really belongs to” he purred in your ear, leaning down next to your face. Your body tingled, eager for him to take you.

He brushed the tip of his length against your sensitivity, causing your body to jolt. He softly chuckled, planning to tease you further. Poe circled your clit softly with the tip before pushing himself inside you only slightly, and removing himself again.

“Poe, please.” You begged.

“Please what baby?”

“Please fuck me” you pleaded. He slammed into you upon your request and relentlessly thrusted without time for you to adjust. You whimpered loudly, feeling a painful discomfort that slowly transformed to pleasure for you.

“Oh baby you feel so good....you’re so fucking tight” he breathed through his efforts. He ceased his thrusting and held himself inside you, completely buried. Your arched position allowed his length to press against a new angle in your walls. You whined as that new feeling was already overwhelming, almost too much with his size.

Your noises were mostly muffled from your face being pressed into the mattress. He wanted to hear you. He needed to hear your euphoric noises.

Poe’s hands moved from grabbing your hips to your shoulders and lifted you up from the bed. He did this both to expose your lips to release your moans as well as to use you as leverage to fuck you deeper.

He made no attempt to be quiet and exerted all his sweet moans into the air, turning you on by his voice alone. As he thrusted harder, he picked up his speed as well.

Poe suddenly wrapped one hand around your throat, causing you to struggle for air. He pulled you up and back, bringing his mouth to your ear.

“Who does this pussy belong to? Whose is it?” He growled in your ear.

“I-it’s yours” you managed to mumble

“Speak up”

“It’s yours, P-Poe” you moaned louder.

“That's right. This pussy is mine. No one else can fuck you, only me” he continued. “You got that?”

“Yes” you breathlessly whined.

He released his grip on you, and pressed your head back down onto the bed. You wanted so badly to touch yourself while he pounded into you, but your wrists remained bound together. It was as if he had read your mind when he reached around your hips to massage your clit. Your breathing hitched at the sudden sensation.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well, baby girl” He purred. “So fucking pretty”

Poe’s moaning grew rougher and deeper as he approached his orgasm. The palm of his hand suddenly struck your ass, you pleasantly winced at the feeling. It was followed by several more, each hurting and stinging your skin more deliciously than the previous slap. He released something resembling a growl at the sight of your skin turning a cherry red from him striking you.

The pleasure you experienced became overwhelming. Poe repositioned himself slightly, hitting deeper inside your walls, you could barely take it. Your eyes watered at the intensity of your ecstasy and you cried his name.

“Poe, yes, fuck. It feels so good” you whimpered.

“Yeah? You little slut, you love that shit don’t you?” He snarled.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, y/n...as another reminder to you, that you’re mine” He grunted through his choppy breathing. His thrusts became less rhythmic. He fell apart and you felt his cum fill you completely. He groaned loudly through his orgasm, and gripped your hips firmly through the intensity of his high.

“Fuck” Poe breathed, still buried inside you. Your body ached from the tense position you’d been in the entire time. After removing himself, he immediately worked to free your wrists.

“Gotta get these off of you”

Finally, a sweet feeling of relief overcame you with the returned access to your arms. You turned to lay flat on your back, catching your breath in the process.

“I’ll get you some water” Poe sweetly announced, before getting up, putting on sweatpants, and leaving the room.

You smiled warmly to yourself, loving the type of attention you received tonight. Poe returned with a glass of water, sitting next to you on the bed. He made sure you got plenty of hydration after the heavy breathing you exerted.

“Feeling okay?” Poe inquired.

“Yeah, just worn out right now” you chuckled.

There was silence for a moment while both of you settled down.

“I won’t leave you like that again. I’m sorry” he broke the silence, changing the subject. This confused you.

“What?”

“At the cantina. I’m sorry I left you alone for that long. That guy would’ve never had the chance to tou-”

“That wasn’t your fault, Poe.” You interrupted. “He was just an asshole. You know I can handle myself” you reminded him.

“Oh, trust me, I know you can defend yourself, y/n, but I still want to protect you when I can”

“You did more than enough...in more ways than one” you giggled.

“I love you, y/n” he abruptly expressed

You smile widely like an idiot, barely able to keep eye contact with him.

“I love you, Poe”

“You drink up. I’m going to get you a bath running” he says before planting a tender kiss on your perspired forehead.

It was impossible not to fall deeper in love with him every day.

#Poe Dameron #Poe #Poe x reader #Poe Dameron x reader #Poe Dameron smut #Poe x reader smut #Poe Dameron fluff #my work #TFA #TLJ #TROS #poe dameron x you #Star Wars #Star Wars smut

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rufousnmacska · 4 years ago

Text

Only You

A manorian arranged marriage fic from an anon request.

Thank you to @itach-i for beta reading and helping plot this out! ❤️

Previously, in Part One

PART TWO

Manon refused to look in the mirror. Giselle, a Blueblood serving as both sentinel and attendant on this trip, adjusted the drape of her dress then inserted more pins into her hair. She had successfully avoided wearing a dress at Aelin’s coronation, as well as her own. But for this event, she’d finally given in to Glennis’s appeals for formality. She told herself it was due to her grandmother’s surprisingly ruthless demands. But if a dagger were held to her throat, she might admit there was a small part of her that wanted to see Dorian’s expression at the sight of her in a dress. So, they’d packed two. While Manon had initially toyed with the idea of wearing all black to Dorian’s wedding, she knew she’d never go through with it. The black dress would be worn at tonight’s royal banquet while the more modest, light gray frock would be worn at the ceremony.

Glennis was supervising and when Giselle stepped back, they both nodded.

Manon turned away from her reflection. “You act as if the world will live or die upon my appearance tonight.”

Through a combination of luck and will, she’d managed to avoid seeing Dorian this morning when they arrived. When she was shown to her rooms, she hadn’t left them, indulging her cowardice just this once. Unfortunately, there was no way she could get out of tonight’s banquet.

“It just might,” Glennis mumbled.

Manon caught her eye and demanded, “What does that mean?” With a nod, she dismissed Giselle.

“I’ve learned Prince Fennick is here.” Glennis made no effort to hide the accusation in her voice.

“I’m surprised he was able to make the trip. I thought the seas were impassable this time of year.”

“I’ve been told he was very motivated.”

“What else have you been told?” she asked, walking around to pick up her traveling clothes that had been thrown about the room. Manon had kept the contents of Fennick’s letter a secret from Glennis, passing it off as an introduction to a possible trade alliance. On top of everything else, she didn’t want to deal with her grandmother’s nosiness. It had been easy to convince herself that he wouldn’t show up. All a mistake, she realized now, as she would have Glennis’s anger to manage along with the questions.

“He cornered Giselle and Lara earlier to ask about your attire for tonight. Among other things.”

Manon scowled in confusion, hiding her irritation that he’d approach her witches like that. “What? Why would he want to know that?”

“Why? So he can, and I am quoting him here, ‘dress accordingly.’”

“And what other things?”

“Lara said he was asking about our capitol. If there had been much rebuilding or if it was new construction. And what sort of trade we exported.”

Manon remembered how he’d framed his interest in terms of a mutually beneficial alliance between her kingdom and Doranelle. Those questions at least made sense to her. “We have nothing to hide,” she said dismissively. “Building a kingdom from ancient ruins, nothing to trade except grains and unrefined ore. I still don’t understand about the dress though,” she confessed.

“He wants to match. Apparently he’s decided to court you at the wedding of the man you love. And, apparently, you’re going to let him!” Glennis growled.

And this was why she’d not shown the letter to Glennis. A sudden rage consumed Manon and she hissed back, “Isn’t this what everyone wants? For me to move on and produce an heir for the Witch Kingdom? Why is it that when I consider doing exactly that, I’m made to feel like some sort of traitor? Dorian has accepted his future, grandmother. Shouldn’t I do the same?”

Glennis had no reply, only an immensely sad expression on her face. While she had never pushed Manon about an heir, almost everyone else on the council had, their efforts doubling upon the news that Dorian’s betrothal had left their queen alone.

Alone. She was well and truly alone now, she realized. Dorian was the only person who had known her Thirteen for their true selves. Petrah and the other witches, even Glennis, really only knew the masks her sisters had worn. Dorian had seen them at their most vulnerable, trained and fought with them, laughed with them. The sudden breaking of that connection left her breathless with pain.

And just like that, Manon’s anger disappeared. She fell into a chair and gazed out the window at the darkening sky. She could see the ocean from here, and she knew that Dorian’s rooms were only a few short flights above hers. So close. “Does anyone else know why he is here?”

“I don’t know,” Glennis said. “I believe he’s kept to his rooms for the most part. If he’s fool enough to speak about it in front of his host, then he deserves whatever happens to him.”

Manon huffed a laugh in agreement.

“I hate that this is happening,” Glennis said, her voice miserable. “I hate it!” Manon looked up to see tears in her grandmother’s eyes. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s not fair of me to add to your torment. I know you blame yourself, but you shouldn’t. His awful lords are to blame. Dorian had no choice.” After a long moment, she added, “If you want to move on with a fae prince, I won’t stop you.”

“Of course I don’t want to,” Manon said, fighting against the tears building in her own eyes. “I want to be with Dorian. I want him and no one else to father my witchling, to rule by my side. But that’s not possible. Not anymore. I waited too long to tell him that. That’s why I blame myself. I thought we’d have time, but I was wrong.” She lost the battle with her tears, letting them run down her cheeks.

Glennis rushed over to hug her, murmuring words of consolation that, while unable to change anything, still helped to soothe her. Eventually, Manon pulled away to clean her face.

For the first time in a long time, since those desperate final days of the war, Glennis looked ancient enough to match her age. It was the tears and sadness and regret. It made Manon wonder why her grandmother never spoke of her own mate. Had he been a love match? Or an arrangement that settled into a simple happiness that allowed them to become mates? If the latter, would that be enough for Manon?

With a courage and strength that she didn’t think she had, Manon stood and grasped Glennis’s hand. “Let’s go down. I want to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

***

Dorian’s nerves grew increasingly worse as more guests made their way through the receiving line. He had yet to see Manon. He hadn’t been surprised that she’d sequestered herself in her rooms all day, but that didn’t stop the disappointment from almost overwhelming him. Only Chaol’s insistence that it might cause a scene had kept him from visiting her. Now, the idea of introducing her to Eveline made him want to throw up. He knew he wasn’t making a very good impression on the guests. Luckily, Eveline was a talented conversationalist, taking some of the attention off his own shoulders.

The next person to approach gave Dorian a shock. A fae male stood before them, tall and silver-haired, handsomely dressed in black and gold. He was the spitting image of Rowan, if Rowan had long hair. At the expression on Dorian’s face, the male broke into a laugh.

“Your Majesty. Lady Frey,” he said, bowing gracefully. “I am Prince Fennick Whitethorn. Queen Sellene of Doranelle regrets not being able to attend, but she sends her dearest wishes for a long and happy union.” He then exchanged brief introductions with Chaol and Yrene, who shared in Dorian’s surprise at the resemblance.

“Thank you, your highness,” Dorian said. “We are close friends with your cousin Rowan. Sadly, he and Aelin were unable to attend.”

“Ah, that is sad. I haven’t seen him in years and had hoped to catch up.”

“How was your voyage here?” Eveline asked. “I'm relieved that you avoided the winter storms.”

“The sea travel was harrowing in spots. But nothing to prevent me from daring the journey.” At Eveline’s quizzical look, he grinned a bit sheepishly. “I grew up listening to my grandmother spin tales of fae meeting their mates at weddings. I’m afraid I’m a romantic at heart and when Sellene asked me to represent Doranelle, I could not pass up the opportunity.”

Eveline laughed. “Well, perhaps you will find them tonight. Though, I don’t think there are any other fae present.”

Not acknowledging the encroachment of a noble couple wishing he would move along, Fennick said, “Lucky for me, Lady, the fae mating bond has been known to happen with humans. I believe your king’s ancestors were such a pair, yes?” Before Dorian could reply, Fennick continued. “It is rare, but it happens. I’ve even heard tell of fae sharing mate bonds with witches.”

Maintaining a pleasant air, she said, “Ah, is that so? I’m afraid I’m rather ignorant on those matters.” With an eye to the rest of the line, she said, “Please enjoy yourself this evening.”

“Thank you,” he said with another quick bow. “I intend to.”

Dorian had stiffened, his fists clenched so tightly his skin was white at the knuckles. He gave the prince a dismissive nod, then watched as he mingled with the crowd that had formed at the entrance to the ballroom. He very clearly overheard Fennick ask someone if the Witch Queen had made her appearance yet. Yrene heard too, and Chaol had to grab her arm to keep her from going after the male.

The next guests passed by in a haze. Dorian smiled prettily and welcomed them. He could think of nothing but the arrogant fae male in search of a mate and was wondering if Fennick had been trying to goad him into some sort of confrontation. When a hand pinched his arm, he looked over to see Chaol, wearing a wild-eyed expression that screamed for him to focus.

He spun back around to find Manon standing before him.

Unable to stop himself, he just stared at her. It had been months since they’d last seen each other, let alone spoken. While Dorian had seen her in flying leathers and other basic clothes, had seen her in every state of undress, he’d never seen her wearing a dress. Until this moment, he’d thought she’d never looked more beautiful than when she’d had on one of his night shirts. How wrong he was.

The black dress hugged her body, flaring out at the hem and pooling on the floor. The low neckline would have been scandalous if not for the jewel-encrusted golden collar that wrapped around her neck and extended out to cap her shoulders. Though she did not have it on tonight, he knew the jewels matched those that blazed in the stars of crown. Her hair was twisted up, held in place by golden pins, a few silken strands hanging down around her face.

As the silence grew, and as others around them watched with eyes greedy for drama, Dorian swallowed, hoping he could remember words, any words, to get him through this moment.

But it was Eveline who spoke first. “Your Majesty, thank you for making the long journey to celebrate with us.” She curtsied to Manon, then smiled in greeting to Glennis and the witches standing behind their queen. “When I was in the stable yard earlier, I checked in on your wyverns to make sure they were comfortable. I confess I’d never seen one so close before. They are truly amazing.”

Manon dipped her head. “It is my great honor, Lady. And yes, our mounts have been well attended. I hope they were on their best behavior.”

“Oh yes,” Eveline said. “The smaller one seemed very gentle. One of the yard hands told me he loves flowers.” She gestured to the large bouquets decorating the hall. “I requested some be sent down to him.”

Almost imperceptibly, Manon’s eyes flared at the mention of Abraxos’s gentleness. As if his approval of Eveline meant something beyond his usual love of a pretty face and kind nature.

Eveline hesitated, looking between Dorian and Manon. “I hope that was acceptable. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

Manon smiled reassuringly and said, “No, you did not, Lady. I appreciate your attentiveness, and I’m sure Abraxos did too.” Turning to fully face Dorian, her eyes glittered in the light of the chandeliers. He searched her face, awestruck as always by her beauty, but now hoping to see some acknowledgment that this was as torturous for her as it was for him. With a steady voice, she said, “Congratulations, Your Majesty.”

I’m princeling to you, he wanted to say. Maybe that would break through the ice-cold mask Manon had donned. But instead, all he could manage was a pathetic, “Thank you.”

Manon waited for a moment, as if he might have more to say. But when nothing came, his mind reeling with everything he couldn’t speak aloud, she made her way towards an anxiously waiting Yrene. The healer ignored protocol and pulled Manon into a hug. Dorian watched them speak quietly together, until a strong hand squeezed his, drawing his attention away. He looked down to see Glennis smiling sadly. She’d become as much a grandmother to him as she was to Manon, and he realized suddenly that she would soon be taken out of his life too.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I don’t …” But he couldn’t finish. And Glennis wouldn’t let him anyway.

She bowed, offering Eveline a kind smile as she said, “My congratulations, Lady.”

Eveline, gracious as ever, dipped her head in return and thanked Glennis for her well wishes.

And just like that, the witches were gone and there was some merchant family standing in front of him. Dorian’s senses were overloaded, and he simply ignored the next influx of guests, selfishly relying on Eveline to chat with them. He should have turned away, should have focused on his duties, but his eyes followed Manon towards the ballroom. Before she could enter, Fennick presented himself to her with another dignified bow, then extended his arm. Dorian couldn’t hear what they said as she accepted and he escorted Manon into the room. In fact, he could hear nothing at all.

Chaol appeared in front of him, mouthing something to Eveline, then pulled Dorian back down a hallway to a deserted storage closet. Dorian’s knees nearly buckled, and he fell against the wall. Covering his mouth and trusting the noise down the hall to drown it out, he let loose the scream he’d been holding in for months. Magic exploded through the room, leaving the walls and floor coated with a thick sheet of ice. The temperature dropped so low that Chaol’s lips and eyelashes frosted over. But his friend said nothing, just let him yell, let his magic overtake them until there was nothing left.

*****

Manon barely registered what was happening as she let the fae prince lead her into the ballroom. She knew he was speaking to her, but she only picked up pieces here and there, relegating the words to nonsense. Numbly, she turned back, searching for Dorian, but he was gone.

Her mind was caught on a moment ago when she’d been standing before him, drowning in the familiarity of his scent, his eyes, all of him. She was used to seeing him in formal clothing, but tonight, Dorian had outdone himself. In Adarlan red and embroidered with shimmering gold and silver wyverns, his jacket fit snugly across his broad shoulders, the back hem extending to his knees. It flattered his figure in such a way that he seemed taller, even more commanding than usual. His ebony hair had grown, curling at his ears and around his crown, a reminder of how long it had been since she’d seen him.

In a sparkling golden gown that complemented her dark hair and eyes, Eveline was lovely. As Manon had expected. What surprised her was the gratitude she felt for Eveline’s quick ability to relieve some of the tension. The truth was, if not for her, Manon and Dorian might still be standing there, entranced and speechless and desperate for each other’s presence.

“Your Majesty?” The fae was holding a chair out for her.

Manon spun around, shocked to find herself on the opposite side of the ballroom. She had no memory of getting here. Adarlan’s nobles and upper class shuffled around them, making a show of looking for their seats. But they were all watching her, some more brazenly than others. She stared back, forcing them to look away or bow their heads. With a tight smile, she thanked Fennick and sat down, her sentinels taking their positions along the wall behind her. He held out a chair for Glennis, who grumbled a thank you, then took the seat on Manon’s other side. Two couples claimed the remaining spots at their table and she could tell by their attire that they were foreign dignitaries. The older of the men introduced himself as the ambassador from Melisande and began speaking to Glennis, who looked both annoyed at the distraction and overjoyed at not having to converse with Fennick.

“I apologize,” Fennick said quietly. “This must be very difficult for you, Your Majesty.”

Manon blinked as she tried to imagine him calling her witchling. Never, came the shouted reply in her head. No one would ever call her that again. Yet another connection to a happier time that had been severed.

“I’ve lived through worse,” she said without thinking. It was true. And yet, also a lie. Losing her coven had been worse. But this was its own special misery. To lose Dorian now, after she’d begun to heal, after she’d chosen to live … this new wound cut long and deep, reopening all the old hurts from which she’d just started to recover.

Fennick was watching her carefully, no doubt unsure of how to respond. But he surprised her by saying, “Yes. They are legends in the fae lands. If not for the bravery of your witches, the world would have been destroyed. Sellene and Endymion speak highly of them. Truly, I am sorry for your loss.”

Manon attempted a smile, hoping that would be the end of it. People often didn’t know what to say when the topic of the Thirteen was broached. That Fennick said anything, let alone kind words, was a comfort. Yet she had no desire to discuss it further and add salt to her wounds.

In a cruel bit of luck, they were distracted by Dorian and Eveline entering the room. They made their way to a dais at the front of the crowd as everyone applauded. Pretending to clap, Manon tried in vain to focus on Chaol and Yrene, who’d already taken their seats at the head table. She felt Dorian’s eyes on her and for a brief instance, their gazes met. His smile was fake, she knew. But the recognition in his stare made her feel seen, known in a way that so few did.

When he saw who was next to her, his look turned almost feral. But then Eveline leaned close to say something to him and he turned away. The smile he gave his future queen appeared more genuine, enough so that its sincerity gave Manon pause. Quickly losing interest in the spectacle, she turned back to Fennick.

“You can’t have come all this way just to meet with me,” she said, holding her wine glass for a server to fill. She almost asked the man to leave the entire decanter at the table. She wasn’t one for drink, but tonight might be a perfect time to start.

“I can assure you, I did.”

“And why is that exactly?”

He laughed and leaned back in his chair. It was only then that she saw he’d actually matched his outfit to hers. She glanced back to Giselle and Lara. The witches had the good sense to look ashamed, but Manon wouldn’t punish them. Instead of anger, she was biting back a laugh. It was a decent attempt, but if Fennick thought she would be impressed by such things, he was an idiot. While she could appreciate the way Dorian dressed, it wasn’t a thing she noticed on anyone else.

“In my letter I mentioned having gone through a similar experience,” he said, gesturing to the dais with his glass before taking a sip. “I once loved a human. But it ended badly.” He didn’t volunteer more information, and though Manon was curious, she didn’t ask for more. “When Sellene got the invitation and seemed shocked by who the king had chosen to wed, I saw a possible kindred spirit in you. The more she told me about you, the more intrigued I became. Though, her description of your beauty was lacking to say the least.” With a flirtatious half smile, he added, “The fae are known for their otherworldly beauty, but I can officially say that witches,” he nodded to her, “have far surpassed my kind.”

Manon had to turn away to hide her laugh. People flirted with her all the time. But after so long with Dorian, she’d grown used to his playfulness and subtlety.

Mistaking it as shyness, Fennick went on. “You don’t believe me? Look around this room. They are here for a king’s wedding, yet all their eyes follow us.”

She considered telling him it had everything to do with the humans’ love of gossip and nothing to do with their looks, but he knew that. This was just a game, one she didn’t feel like playing no matter how entertaining it might be.

The ambassador’s assistant asked Fennick a question, thankfully taking his attention off her. Ignoring the conversation, she gazed up at the dais. Chaol and Yrene were seated to Dorian’s left and a sour looking man had appeared to Eveline’s right. She narrowed her eyes on Lord Frey. The way he held himself, looking down his nose and sneering at the guests, reminded her of the Blackbeak Matron. It made sense. They both possessed a cruel desire for power that left others at risk.

As if a light had been shone on it, she noticed that Eveline kept herself as far from her father as possible. Or was she just trying to get closer to Dorian? Manon didn’t think it was wishful thinking. The girl clearly hated her father, and justifiably so. For the first time, Manon considered that Eveline may not want this union either. She’d never blamed the girl outright, but she’d never spared any sympathy either. But even sympathy couldn’t quell her desire to be in Eveline’s place. Maybe not in front of this crowd. But by Dorian’s side? At this moment, Manon wanted nothing more. As she sank into the feeling, her favorite blue eyes found her.

A charge passed between them and it felt like the entire room had been emptied. A crazy urge almost took her, to get up and take his hand and just walk out. Leave everyone and everything behind. Others could rule their kingdoms. Clean up the mess they’d leave behind. Manon blinked and the noise and people surged back. Dorian was perched on the edge of his chair, as if he’d had the same vision of escape. But with the return to reality, that vision faded into darkness. Where she knew it belonged.

Fennick said something to her and she twisted in her chair. He was speaking animatedly to the ambassador, his assistant, and their wives, trying to pull Manon into the conversation. “We were just talking about wedding gifts. It’s difficult enough trying to get something for people who aren’t royalty. Whatever do you give a king and his queen?” he asked.

Manon held back a flinch at that description of Dorian and Eveline and glanced at the others. The women seemed to be too polite to point out the rudeness of Fennick’s topic.

Glennis wasn’t. “I would think it’s not proper to discuss such things,” she said, earning a nod of agreement from the ambassador’s wife.

Fennick laughed airily, failing to see Glennis’s nasty look. “It’s just in good fun. Doranelle is well known for our gold and metalcraft, so Sellene commissioned a music box that is embossed with the Havilliard crest. She thought it appropriate to send a gift representative of our wealth.” His face reddened, as though his queen’s arrogance was embarrassing.

The ambassador cleared his throat, ignoring his wife’s glare. “Melisande is well known for our textiles, so we gifted them an assortment of our finest silks.” As if wanting to be saved from his wife, he looked to Manon, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

She wasn’t going to reply at first. No amount of pleading from the ambassador could draw her into this. But then, despite the crone’s earlier disapproval, she saw the curiosity on Glennis’s face and found herself saying, “I’ve given them a book.”

With a contemptuous smirk, the assistant piped up and asked, “A book? Does it hold some sort of secret witch knowledge to make it suitable for a king?”

If she wasn’t still reeling from the moment she’d just shared with Dorian, Manon might have told him to go to hell. But this whole night had left her out of sorts. And besides, she would not be the cause of a scene. Glaring at the man, she said, “It’s called a memory book, the pages left blank for commemorating special events. Weddings. Births.” She waved her hand, dismissing the topic as much as the nausea that suddenly struck her.

While the men looked confused, as if an empty book were the worst gift in the world, the women smiled, agreeing it was a lovely idea. She found Fennick looking at her, his head tilted slightly, as if trying to decide between the two possibilities. Finally, he gave her a soft smile and said, “I’d not thought you the romantic type, Your Majesty. That is indeed a beautiful gift.”

Manon thanked him with a nod, sitting quietly as the others continued talking and studiously avoiding Glennis’s eyes on her. She’d had no idea what Manon had brought to give Dorian and Eveline. What would she think if Manon told her she’d left the name plate blank? She had not been able to bring herself to write Eveline’s name next to Dorian’s. A cowardly deed. Just as it had been a cowardly urge earlier to run from this night.

By the time dinner ended and the music was starting, she was silent and numb, burying herself in dark thoughts and wishing she had never come. Glennis had done her part in keeping the conversation at the table going, but once the last course was cleared, she excused herself to go speak to Yrene. When Fennick stood and offered his hand to dance, Manon just stared. He sat again, his smile fading and a concerned look in his eye. He’d tried to improve her mood during dinner but to no avail.

“Go dance, Fennick. I’m fine.”

“You’re the only one I want to dance with, Your Majesty.”

She sighed, but her mouth twitched upwards. “Just call me Manon.” She had no energy for maintaining airs.

As they sat and watched the dance floor fill, he said, “I was ready to give up my immortality for the woman I loved.” Manon turned towards him, her foul mood momentarily replaced by curiosity. “During Maeve’s reign I spent as much time as I could outside of Doranelle. I met her in Wendlyn. She was a seamstress, beautiful and kind.” He glanced at Manon, frowning. “I think I fell in love with her the instant our eyes met. There was this inexplicable connection. Fae can mate with humans, but it’s very rare. I thought that if I waited, the bond would snap into place and she would be my mate.”

Manon turned her attention back to the dancing. She hid her trembling hands under the table, remembering she had once thought the same thing about Dorian. Witches had mates, but not in the fae sense. The connection was not magical, it wasn’t something feral and uncontrollable. A witch chose her mate, their bond forged on love and respect. Nothing more. But, there was something more with Dorian. A tug towards him she’d felt when they’d met, a pull that she could never truly explain. Once, she’d almost asked Glennis if having two witch parents gave her more fae blood than most witches. But she’d talked herself out of it, eased by the thought that she and Dorian had time. And the knowledge that ultimately, it made no difference. She loved him either way.

Fennick laughed, a soft, humorless sound. “You can guess that she was not, in fact, my mate. When I spoke of giving up my immortality to be with her, she tried to talk me out of it.” Another laugh. “That raised my suspicions and I discovered she was in love with another man. A human.”

“You laugh about it,” Manon said. “How long ago was it?”

“Almost two hundred years ago. And yes, I laugh, but the pain of it still surprises me sometimes.”

She could understand that. In comparison, practically no time had passed for her, but she couldn’t imagine a future free of the pain of losing her coven. Despite his arrogance and formality, she could admit they did share some things in common.

They sat in silence again, watching the dancing. Her head was full of voices urging her to accept things, move on. Live. With a glance to the dais, where Dorian was staring at Eveline, Manon said, “I’m not a dancer. But perhaps this evening doesn’t need to have a miserable end.”

Fennick smiled, stood, and offered her his hand again.

She took it, and despite the voices she’d listened to, Manon felt like a traitor as he led her to the dance floor.

***

It had taken longer for Dorian to make himself presentable after his little explosion in the closet than it did to release his rage. Luckily, he had enough magic left to heal the burst blood vessels in his eyes. And warm Chaol, whose fingertips had taken on a purplish sheen from the cold. Neither Eveline nor Yrene said anything when they returned, and by that point, it was time for dinner.

Godsdamn this entire farce, Dorian silently yelled, plastering a grin on his face as they made their way to the dais and took their seats. He tried not to be obvious in his search for Manon, but he knew it was useless. When he saw her, his wild mind quieted, his breathing evened out. She always had that effect on him. Even in the midst of lovemaking, when it made no sense for her to do so, she somehow calmed him.

His eyes caught the site of Fennick sitting beside her and the calmness disappeared in a flash. Of course the bastard was there. Dorian had no right to be angry or jealous. He knew it. But that meant nothing when he saw the fae’s proximity to Manon. What little magic remained in his veins growled and he fought to stifle it.

Eveline leaned towards him then and said, “We could claim he was never invited and have him thrown out.”

As the dream of tossing Fennick on his ass played out in his head, Dorian couldn’t help but smile. “If you have yet to get a wedding gift for me, that would be perfect.”

Laughing, she replied, “Sadly, I already got you a gift. That is, if it arrives on time. But it’s one I think you will actually enjoy more.”

Desperate to keep his mind and eyes off Manon, he said lightly, “More than pummeling Fennick Whitethorn? I can’t imagine what it must be.”

Lord Frey sauntered over and took his seat on Eveline’s other side, effectively killing their conversation. Eveline stiffened, inching closer to Dorian. They both ignored the lord and the slight at taking his seat after the king. Chaol glared at the man and Yrene leaned forward to silently examine Dorian. He winked at her, and though she didn’t believe his playfulness, she was satisfied that he was not hurt by his magical outburst.

Eveline asked her about Josie, who was under the care of Chaol’s mother. As the two women talked, Dorian couldn’t help himself and watched Manon. She sat with her back to him, so he couldn’t see her reactions to Fennick’s ridiculous attempts at flirting. The male looked to be laying it on thick. He hoped that Manon might get offended and slap him. But instead she ducked her head away and smiled. His head told him it was fake, or an attempt to keep from laughing at the male. But his gut churned and soon, the possibility that she was enjoying it overtook any common sense he had left.

Forcing himself to look away, he couldn’t chase the thoughts from his mind. Did this fool actually think Manon could be his mate? And just like that, the notion dug itself into his brain, taking hold and refusing to let go.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” Chaol demanded.

Dorian turned, eyes still narrowed, jaw clenched. He sat his wine glass down before he shattered it.

“Oh, never mind. It’s written all over your face.”

“And if that were someone flirting with Yrene? You’d just pretend it wasn’t happening?”

Chaol sighed. “No. I’d punch him in the face.”

“Thank you!” Dorian said, feeling momentarily victorious.

“Hell, I’d gladly punch Fennick on your behalf. But Manon would be livid if I robbed her of the chance,” Chaol said.

Dorian thought the sight of Manon beating the fae to a pulp was much better than his earlier vision of doing it himself. Unfortunately, his hopes looked to be dashed. “That is not livid,” he said glumly, gesturing to where she sat talking to Fennick. Nodding his thanks to the server who filled his plate, he stared at the food, not bothering to reach for a utensil. His appetite had been absent for weeks and there was no chance it would return tonight.

He looked up to find golden eyes upon him. Dorian stopped breathing, and suddenly time and space felt infinite. Or, was that her eyes? Something flickered between them and he inched forward, as if he might jump up and flee with her. Escape this nonsense and the suffocation of their crowns. As quickly as the moment had taken him, it faded, leaving him about to push himself off his chair, ready to bolt.

Clearing his throat, he settled back into his seat, his gaze back on the food before him.

“If I may, Your Majesty,” Eveline said, dipping her spoon into her stew, “it might help to act as if you’re in a play.”

He gave her an apologetic look for what she had just witnessed. “A play? Is that how you survive court?”

“It is. Sometimes I pretend that I am part of some grand production, acting out a role.” She was smiling as she spoke, but Dorian couldn’t help but feel saddened by her confession. She must have noticed so she said, “It’s quite fun. Especially when I can play into people’s preconceived notions about me. Lady Thorn thinks me an idiot. But when I feign ignorance, she is the one who must always explain her snobbish jokes and insults until they are no longer funny. She is the one left looking a fool.”

Dorian laughed, clinked her glass with his and said, “Well done. I wish I could have witnessed that.”

Eveline eyed him, “That was well done too.”

“I wasn’t acting just now. I would truly love to see Lady Thorn taken down a peg or two. The woman is abominable.”

She laughed and they continued talking, sharing opinions about the worst of the nobility, excluding Lord Frey only because he was within hearing distance. Although Dorian barely ate, the courses passed by quickly. When the quartet that had played during dinner became a larger ensemble and started playing dance music, members of the crowd looked to Dorian and Eveline. But she begged off the attempt to have them open the dance floor, and Dorian waved for the guests to begin without them. He didn’t mind. Manon had never danced before, and he would rather sit out this part of the night too.

Lord Frey, having been ignored the entire night, stood and threw his napkin on the table. Before he made his exit, he bent between his daughter and Dorian and growled, “Do not think I am blind. If you dishonor my daughter any further by staring so lewdly at the witch, I may be inclined to take back my offer of peace.”

Without looking at Lord Frey, and with a surprisingly hostile note to her voice, Eveline said, “If you renege on this agreement, father, you might very well lose the support you barely manage to cling to.”

Dorian looked back and forth between them, annoyed when Lord Frey took his leave before he could put the noble in his place. To Eveline, he asked, “Are there weaknesses in his alliance that I should know about?”

She only smiled, looking blankly out over the ballroom. “I don’t know. I just wanted him to leave.”

He watched her for a moment, unsure what to think. He’d been somewhat charmed by her earlier stories of play acting at the expense of the other members of court. Was she doing that now? Or did her father have that much of an effect on her? He truly didn’t know.

A low, collective gasp drew him from his thoughts, and he looked out over the ballroom.

Once, when he was young, he’d fallen, running up a flight of stairs in the castle. He’d landed hard, striking his chest against the edge of the next step up. The blow left him gasping for air for what felt like hours, the shock and pain of it lingering even after he could breathe again.

That’s what he felt now. But he hadn’t fallen. It was the sight of Manon being led onto the dance floor by Fennick that knocked the breath from his lungs. He searched desperately for Chaol or Yrene, but they had disappeared. Eveline was watching him with concern, murmuring in shock at the sight of her own breath in the air. He was paralyzed, watching this nightmare unfold and unable to stop it. And finally, Chaol was there, blocking his view of the dance floor.

“Do you need to leave?” his friend asked, glancing at Eveline, who seemed to be in favor of the idea.

“No,” Dorian said, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes and try to make sense of what was happening. “No. I will stay.”

After a long moment, Chaol reluctantly walked away, coming around the table to take his seat in case he needed to get Dorian out of there.

But somehow, Dorian remained calm, his face a perfect mask with a winning smile and bright eyes as he and Eveline oversaw the rest of the evening. The only sign of his inner turmoil was the arm rest of his chair, which had been reduced to a pile of splinters on the floor.

He focused on anyone and anything but her, too terrified of what he might see if she came into view. Terrified to see her laughing, learning to dance in another’s arms. But it didn’t really matter. That first sight of her, held close by that smirking son of a bitch as he helped her with the foot movements … it was seared into his brain. When he closed his eyes, it was there, his imagination threatening to go wild.

He felt a light touch on his hand. Eveline said, “She has left. It’s safe now.”

Dorian stared at her, unable to speak, to even say thank you. And she deserved to be thanked for putting up with him this night. Again, he wondered who she really was. Certainly not a fool. But he’d been one to think she was simple and docile. It didn’t make him feel better. Only worse for dragging her into this mess.

“I believe I’ll retire now,” he said flatly.

“Yes, of course,” Eveline said, standing as he pulled her chair out. “It’s been a long evening. And we have a big day tomorrow.” It was spoken with her usual lovely smile, and loud enough for some guests mingling nearby to hear. They bowed to Dorian and Eveline as they stepped off the dais and made their way out of the ballroom.

They walked to her rooms in silence, Dorian remembering all those times he’d asked Manon to dance, and Eveline likely thinking of what was to come the next day. He said goodnight and turned away before she closed her door. As he began the long climb up the stairs of his tower, his feet felt heavy, shackled with regret. When he reached the floor where Manon was staying, he stopped. The guards behind him stepped back, giving him leave to walk down this hallway instead of his own. But her sentinels were nowhere in sight, leaving Dorian to imagine where she might be. With a head full of useless wishing and his chest somehow both empty and aching, he continued to trudge up the steps to his rooms.

*****

With Glennis having already retired to her room next door, Manon bid her sentinels goodnight, leaving them outside in the hall. Fennick had insisted on walking her to her rooms, choosing a circuitous route that ensured they’d have more time together. He’d spoken of everything from stories of his travels to gossip about his extended family. She’d reacted when necessary, secretly reliving the way Dorian had looked when she’d stepped onto the dance floor.

Dorian had asked her to dance with him at the official events she attended in Rifthold. But she’d not had the training he did. And to expose herself like that in front of so many people had been too frightening. After that, Dorian never pushed, and he offered to teach her in private. But the promise of lessons had gone unfulfilled. They always seemed to find other uses for their precious time alone.

She couldn’t explain what happened tonight. Perhaps it was pity for Fennick. Or a desire to stop wallowing in her own. The instant she started walking to the dance floor, before seeing Dorian’s reaction that felt like a punch to her gut, she knew it was a mistake. But it would have drawn more eyes if she’d returned to the table. So instead, she let Fennick take her in his arms and spin her around a bit. He laughed when she stepped on his feet and tried to keep her up there for another round. On the verge of letting her iron teeth snick free, Manon had glared at him until he knew not to press her any further.

And now, after a round-about journey to her rooms, she was finally alone.

She tugged the pins from her hair and tossed them on a table. Unclasping the golden collar of her dress, she shrugged out of it and threw on a long, wool shirt. Despite the roaring fire, the room felt cold. And despite her fatigue, Manon knew she wouldn’t sleep. After staring out the doors to the balcony for a while, she caught the shine of moonlight on dark feathers. It took only a small flick of her hand to unlatch the handle. Before she could reconsider, she walked away, leaving what might happen next to fate.

Minutes later, from the other side of the room, she heard the door softly close. Her heart suddenly racing, she turned to find Dorian. He too had changed out of his formal clothes, and without the jacket, she could see he’d lost weight. They stared, taking all the time to drink each other in that they weren’t granted earlier. For as fast as her heart was beating, she heard his pounding faster. It made her love being a witch, this ability to sense the way his body reacted to her. There was never fear from him, never a look in his eyes that marked her as a monster.

She took a step towards him right as he said, “You danced with him.”

Manon flinched, the last word hitting her like a slap to the face.

Dorian’s face crumpled and he turned away, scrubbing his hands through his hair. “I just …” His voice caught, turning into a rough whisper. “I always thought I’d be the one to teach you how to dance.”

“You don’t get to be upset,” Manon said, trying to swallow her anger.

Spinning around, he yelled, all pretense of calm gone. “I don’t?! I don’t get to be angry that the one thing in my life I freely chose has been taken from me? The one thing I vowed to never do has been forced upon me?”

Manon tensed, expecting her guards to rush in at any moment. When they didn’t come, she realized he’d shielded them with his magic. Free to yell, she did it too. “You chose to take responsibility for your throne. No one forced you to do that. You could have walked away, abdicated and left this country for someone else to rule.” It was utterly ridiculous, and she didn’t mean a word of it, but it let her vent, let her throw something back in his face.

“What happened to ‘you’ve never given up on your people and you won’t now’? Or was that just another excuse to leave? Like my mortality or our kingdoms’ need for heirs? You didn’t even fight for us! You just told me to marry her and left. And now you’re dancing with someone else!”

She snarled, unwilling to hold back. “And you’re marrying someone else! What did you do to stop this? You act as if you exhausted every alternative, but you didn’t. The wedding invitations were practically written up and sent out the day after I left.”

“Because I didn’t want my friends to witness this circus!” He pointed to the cold night outside the doors. “That’s why I rushed it. To have it in winter so no one could come!”

Manon blinked, then covered her face with her hands and started to laugh. And then, Dorian was laughing. The release of screaming at each other felt good. Even if the words held some pieces of truth, they knew each other well enough to know how tiny and insignificant those pieces were. They knew that in this situation, faced with war or an unhappy future apart, there was no choice for either of them. As their laughter died down, they were left standing and staring at each other again.

Dorian took a step towards her, his face open to her as it had never been. “The moment I truly understood what my life would become, that it wouldn’t be my life at all, I was six years old. I didn’t cry or complain. I accepted it. Accepted the tutors and the training and the beatings. When I was fourteen and my mother began parading girls in front of me, persuading me to select one as a wife … I wasn’t strong enough then to stand up to my father, but I could resist her. I made a promise to myself that I would only marry for love. Nothing would keep me from it. Not my mother’s manipulations or my father’s cruelty. Not the weight of my crown. And even when I fell in love, even when my crown and his cruelty took those loves away, I held on to that vow, knowing that whatever else I gave up for Adarlan, I might at least be with someone I loved. A queen who loved me, who would erase every nightmare, help me battle every hardship. A queen who would stand beside me. That queen is you. It’s only ever been you.”

That was where Manon wished to be. Beside him, offering her strength and taking his when she needed it. Trusting him as she’d trusted no other. Saving him and letting him save her. Just as they’d always done. Dorian was everything she wanted and needed in a friend and lover.

“Seeing you with him tonight, I couldn’t stand it. I know I have no right to feel that way. You don’t belong to me. But I belong to you. No matter what happens tomorrow, I am yours, and always will be.”

Manon closed her eyes, not knowing what to say and trying to keep the tears at bay. He was right. About all of it. She’d let herself fall into that same trap these past two years. That instead of being forced to have an heir with some random ally, she might have a choice in the matter. And her choice had already been made. From that moment she’d dragged Asterin along to Rifthold, hellbent on warning his friends that Dorian had not succumbed to the valg within him.

Yes, he was right. But what did it change?

***

“It was hard for me to see you with her,” she said, her eyes boring into him, as if searching for a sign that he wasn’t as miserable as he claimed. “Laughing and talking together.”

When she started to walk away, Dorian reached for her arm, turning her to face him. Instinctively, she pushed back, taking a fistful of his shirt to hold him in place. But he kept walking, slowly forcing her backwards, closing the distance between them until she was stopped by the wall behind her. Dorian boxed her in, his hands flat on the wall, barely an inch from her shoulders, their faces almost as close. He did not touch her, knowing that if he did, all his meager control would be lost, and he’d fall to his knees and beg. Her chest rose and fell with each jagged breath, their eyes locked like magnets.

“I hated the way you looked at her,” Manon rasped. “I hated dancing with him.”

Dorian’s fingers twitched and suddenly, he had a handful of her hair. Manon’s gaze dipped to his lips and with that single look, that soft tug of hair, the wall they’d tried to hold up between them collapsed. Still grasping his shirt, she pulled him to her. When their lips touched, they both sighed, as if arriving home after a long journey.

The kiss was like a fire ignited within them. One of his hands dropped and grabbed her hip, pulling her to him. His other hand shifted and wrapped around her neck, his thumb running along her jaw. Manon groaned and took his bottom lip between her teeth. Hitching a leg up around his hip, she drew him closer. All Dorian’s senses flashed on and the only thing he was aware of was her.

Everything, he had missed everything about her. The way her hair felt like the purest silk, the way her gold eyes darkened with desire, the sounds she made when he took her in his arms. And though he was losing himself in this kiss, he knew that more than any of those things, he’d missed simply being near her, talking to her, confessing his deepest thoughts to her. Manon was the only one he could do those things with.

“I missed you witchling. So much,” he whispered roughly against her mouth. “I love you.”

He felt the ghost of a smile as she said, “I love you too, princeling.”

His whole body shuddered at the sound of that word from her lips. Hearing it, holding her, everything about this moment reinforced that feeling of calm and rightness. Of home.

They’d never said it before, substituting that word with others, or with actions. Manon had changed so much since he’d first met her, learning to open herself to new feelings and experiences without losing any of her hard edges and steel. But he’d always assumed she was afraid to say it, to give all of herself in that way. So he’d been patient, keeping the word bottled up until the right moment. That overdependence on time had kept them from declaring their love for one another. Until now.

A tear had escaped her eye and he brushed it away with his finger. Desperate for more, for all of her, he leaned down to kiss her again, but she covered his mouth with a trembling hand.

“You can’t be here,” Manon said. “I love you but …” She pushed him back this time and walked quickly away. “You are right. And I want nothing more than to be the one to fulfill that vow you once made. But you’ve sworn an oath to your people, and tomorrow, you will uphold it.”

Devastated to have their perfect moment shattered by the harshness of reality, Dorian didn’t follow her. She was only a few feet away and it felt like an ocean, the distance filled with an empty cold that left him numb to the bone.

Tomorrow he would keep his oath to Adarlan, forsaking his vow to himself.

The sight of her in the arms of another had tested him in ways he’d never imagined. What then, if one day she married the fae prince? Had a witchling with him? The thoughts cleaved his heart anew, and again, he was surprised to find anything left to break. This brief reprieve with her had restored it, only for it to fall apart. Dorian wondered when that damaged part of him would finally give way and disappear altogether. What shell would be left in its place? What kind of king would he be without a heart with which to love?

For all the evil he’d committed, even his father had felt love enough to bestow his own name upon his son, to hide Dorian’s magic from Erawan for as long as he could. A familiar doubt crept out of the shadows and into his head, crowing about how much weaker he was than his father. He knew he was acting like a fool, as overly dramatic as any fairy tale he’d grown up reading. But logic held no power against the depthless dark overtaking him.

Manon still had her back to him. Her shaky breaths were barely audible, but he felt her misery as sharply as he felt his own. Fighting every urge to go to her, comfort her, and in turn comfort himself, Dorian walked past her to the balcony door. He paused for one moment, watching her reflection in the glass. But when she didn’t look up, he unlatched the door and walked outside.

A second later, Dorian was a raven, flying into the frigid night. He didn’t go back to his rooms yet, choosing instead to soar higher for a while. The bite of the air at this altitude didn’t penetrate his thick feathers, so he let himself go up and up and up, leaving the world and thoughts of tomorrow behind.

To be continued...

***

Thanks for reading! You can find my writing master list here or on AO3.

It’s been a while since I’ve written and I’m not sure who all is still out there. So if I missed you, or you’d like to be tagged/removed for parts two and three, let me know.

@itach-i @bookishwitchling @manontrashbeak @awesomelena555 @jimetg98 @over300books

#manorian #manon blackbeak #dorian havilliard #throne of glass #yrene westfall #chaol westfall #glennis crochan #manorian fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #my writing #anon ask #only you

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galacticjoelle · 3 years ago

Text

No Dice

Paring - Karlnapity (DSMP)

Type - Angst, Oneshot

[Content Warning]

Mention of suicidal thoughts, description of scars, and Angst

Authors note: this angst one shot features a head cannon of mine where Quackity can shapeshift his face. His shifted face is usually “:]” however since the battle between him and techno, it’s difficult to hold it. This means while Quackity has intense emotions, he loses control of it.

Las Nevadas was hot and humid, no comforting breeze. Quackity stood atop the needle, watching the sand as if by some miracle it would turn to water. He pondered how long it would take if he jumped. He knew his wings were binded, hidden behind tape and his button up. There would be no turning back unless he managed to break his fall. But it was too soon to do that, he had just begun his reign and his mission. However all of this reflection was interrupted when he saw a reflection in the fountain water.

Mixes of light blue and shades of purple painted the water as a figure dipped his hands into it. Quackity’s usual smile glitched, emotion over coming his ability to concentrate on the shape shifting of his face. A twang of pain tugged at his heart and his gut as he watched Karl fish out a shiny penny and flip it with his fingers. What on earth was he doing here.

Quackity left the railing and down the needle elevator, composing himself as much as he could. What reason would Karl have to visit Las Nevadas? Had someone told Karl of his whereabouts? Had slime explored too far and gotten too close? As the elevator doors opened before him, his face of panic shifted into a “:]” once again. Karl’s back was to the needle doors as he looked at the tall buildings before him in awe. Karl had seen many places that were above such a scale but Karl found amazement each time. He pocketed the penny as he heard steps that met pavement roads.

“Hello Karl! What brings you to Las Nevadas?” Quackity’s artificial smile and forced hospitality didn’t bother Karl, who looked back at the man.

“Hi! I was looking for a friend of mine when I saw the sign, the lights are gorgeous.” Karl gleamed at the fountain and the pools beyond it. Quackity felt anxious as he took in Karl’s words. Who was he looking for- why did he talk to me like he didn’t know me? He acts like we didn’t know eachother at a-

“You said my name, is there by any chance I know you?” Karl smiled at the man, he felt a faint sense of familiarity from him but couldn’t quite pin point it. Karl watched as the fake smile of Quackity’s glitch out of proportion. Quackity felt himself grow sick. He didn’t recognize him. Was this some cruel prank? Did Sapnap put him up to this? The absence of his 8-bit smile revealed the horrid scar left behind. A reminder that he failed. The scar exposed his tooth, now replaced with gold. It traveled from his lower lip to the top of his eyebrow. His eye was white and milked over.

Karl couldn’t quite tell why but he felt himself fall for Quackity. Was it the color of his eye? Or maybe the way he presented himself? The way he stared at Karl like a guilt ridden lover? It all felt too familiar. As if they had shared night beneath stars while laughing. He imagined nights where silly insults turned into timeless pillow fights. Perhaps it was love at first sight. That’s it. Love at first sight.

Karl grew nervous as Quackity began to pick at his sleeves behind his back. “Sorry- did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to offend you- uh, what was your name again?” Karl’s expression was softer this time, worried for the person standing before him. He felt as if he was approaching a duckling with a hurt wing. Karl reached out to him. No thought was done before hand, it’s as if he knew that it was the right thing to do. Karl’s fingertips snapped Quackity out of his panic and he swatted his hand away from his scar.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” It was less of a question and more of a statement. Quackity had a fist in one pocket and the other at his side. He was on the defensive now. “First you don’t talk to me for months, then create a country and fail to tell me, and then- OH AND THEN YOU COME TO MY COUNTRY AND CLAIM NOT TO KNOW WHO THE FUCK I AM?” Despite the hot air, Karl felt a shiver shoot through his spine and took a step back. “Did Sapnap put you up to this? Did he really want to rub it in my face? Or was it George’s idea since you two love to replace me.” Quackity took a step forward. Karl took some back, nearly tripping and falling into the fountain.

Karl didn’t know what to say. Sapnap? What did his Fiancé have to do with Las Nevadas? Did he know this person? Why was he so upset? “Replace you?” Karl watched Quackity’s eyes for anything. Any clue to why he was being bombarded with anger. Quackity’s face only neutralized as he backed up. He felt as if it wasn’t worth the time and effort to get through this cruel charade.

Quackity opened his mouth to speak when he saw an intensity of heat waves approach the entrance of Las Nevadas. A fire roared beyond the sign and sand as a figure emerged from the forest. A man birthed from the lava of the nether. “Your Prince Charming has come to save you. How sweet.”

Sapnap had a temperament that had a reputation for being hot. If the desert wasn’t hot before, it was boiling now.

“Leave Karl out of this.” Karl turned his head to Sapnap, happy to see him but confused on why he was also so hostile. Sapnap was no taller than Karl but still had some height on Quackity as he stood over him. Quackity took some steps back as Sapnap grew too hot to be around.

“Oh, if it isn’t the traitor. Welcome home, love.” Quackity’s pet name was filled with sarcasm as his confident mask was being slipped on. Despite this, Quackity still had no control over the shifting of his face, his anxiety betraying him.

“You’re the one that didn’t join us. Karl told you about Kinoko Kingdom and you never came to visit. You tore down our home too, how do you think I felt when I came looking for you and everything was gone-“

“YOU NEVER CAME TO TELL ME YOU HAD ANOTHER HOME AND INSTEAD YOU REPLACED ME WITH GEORGE!” Quackity lost it as Sapnap’s face of anger turned into shock. He didn’t know?

“I told him to join?”

Sapnap’s heat cooled as his stomach sank. “Karl? What do you mean- you didn’t tell Quackity?” Karl stood still, watching the betrayed face of his fiancé and a betrayed leader.

“Quackity?”

Sapnap almost burst into tears by the sheer confusion on his lovers face. He forgot about their third. The trio was down to two, or rather to Karl, it was always just two.

“You can drop the stupid act.” Quackity’s hands went behind himself as he straightened up. He was tired of this. He didn’t need to hear this. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want to believe that the love of his life had forgotten the existence of him. “If you’re not here to play any of the games we have here, I’m not going to sit around and play yours.” Quackity turned to leave but Sapnap’s grip found his wrist.

“What- do you really think I’d put Karl to this? You know that Karl’s memory gets spotty each time he-“

Quackity ripped his arm from Sapnaps grasp, nearly sobbing on the spot, angry and confused. Grieving over someone who’s standing before him. He couldn’t dare look at Karl. Karl’s eyes were all too familiar. A reminder that the three of them watched the stars together. A reminder that the three of them had melted gold into rings. That the rings were engraved with their initials. Their promises. But Quackity questioned the strength of promises. Were they still promises if he doesn’t even remember them anymore.

“Will you just listen-“ Sapnap tried to plead, but Quackity only stood there.

“Lets flip a coin. Heads that I stay and listen to your bullshit excuses or tails, you two are to leave Las Nevadas until you’re finally ready to gamble.” Quackity waltzed over to Karl, holding out a palm. Karl looked at Quackity’s fingers. He saw flashes of the same scene happening, except Karl placed his hand in his and they began to dance. That’s when he noticed that his ring finger had a tan line. A ring was there, almost the same intricate design as his own.

Karl hesitantly took the penny he fished out of the fountain and placed it into his hand. The feeling of his skin against his fingers lingered in his head as Quackity walked backwards, away from the two. His face shifted, covering any emotion with his signature 8-bit smile. The coin was flipped and the copper penny reflected into Karl’s eyes. He remembered Quackity trying to teach him how to flip a coin. All too familiar but too blurry to be sure it happened.

Quackity then caught the coin and held it up for everyone to see.

Tails.

“Awe. No dice! If only there was another chance for a redo. Oh well! I guess Lady Luck just didn’t come around this time.” Sapnap stood still and motionless as Quackity took two fingers and whistled. The distant clopping of hooves approached as a Skeleton steed emerged from the sand covered in gold. “C’mon Ossium.” One last look was shared between Karl and this not so distant stranger. For a moment, the artificial smile was more sad than it was taunting.

As Quackity rode off Sapnap turned to Karl. “What did we do wrong.” He dropped his head onto Karl’s shoulder, Karl still watching the steed carry off the gambling man.

“He still wears it.”

Sapnap looked up at Karl. “What?” His voice was hoarse. Too broken and upset, he didn’t care.

“He still wears it. The ring.”

This ripped through Sapnap as he began sobbing into Karl, who wrapped his arms around the nether born man. A sense of grief was present within Karl but all too distant for him to cry.

Karl looked up to the sign of Las Nevadas, looking for answers to why he couldn’t remember... Quackity... he liked that name. As he gazed off, he watched as a red cloaked figure passed the hill into the forest, leaving a trail of mushrooms in their wake.

#dsmp #karlnapity #writing #quackity #karl jacobs #sapnap #dream smp #angst

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nobodyfamousposts · 5 years ago

Text

Mominette AU: The Superhero Ban

TRIGGER WARNING!

___________________________________________

It was an indisputable fact that Paris had been the first city to institute the infamous “Supers Ban”. The Justice League knew it. Heroes knew it. Villains knew it. The whole world knew it.

What nobody knew was “why”.

Sure, there had been comments in political circles. Some minor news outlets had mentioned Paris as the latest place where the idea was being considered. But nobody had thought they were serious.

Not until it had been made into law and the Mayor of Paris held a press conference to announce it.

Those who didn’t take it seriously certainly did when Superman himself attempted to go to the Mayor to discuss the matter. And was promptly arrested the instant he set foot in the city.

Outrage was immediate. Cries of discrimination rang out across the world and even at the UN. Various politicians decried the act. Many celebrities admonished it. A good number of people threatened to boycott Paris (which turned out to be for the best as far as Andre and most of Paris was concerned, given that a decrease in tourism meant less people for Hawk Moth to target or the heroes to have to pull out of the fray due to gawking).

Yet a year passed and the ban remained. Even the League would not cross it. Eventually, it just became an accepted fact of the world. Everyone knew to stay out of Paris.

And yet it was still unknown as to why.

Well, people suspected, of course. There were other things happening around the time that seemed to be involved.

It possibly started with the 12 hour timeframe where all of Paris had been closed off. Its citizens had been forced to evacuate. All communication lines were down, and no one from outside of the city had been able to contact anyone from within it. It was news stations in nearby cities that picked up on the fighting and tried to report it, but only several hours after it had started and they seemed to play it off as some sort of freak lighting storm.

Afterwards, things had been strange, but also easily overlooked. The Ladyblogger had gone dark for a several day period. Similarly, the regular correspondent for Paris News, Nadja Chamack had taken a leave of absence. Resident hero Chat Noir had suddenly gotten involved in matters with City Hall, resulting in talk of the hero going into a career in politics. “Chat Noir for President” became a short-lived meme.

It all appeared to come down to a specific “incident”. An akuma fight worse than any other before it. But no one would speak of it. And no information about it was available.

Except for one thing.

There were reports of the existence of video footage of the fight. The Ladyblog had supposedly crashed during a livestream of the mess due to the number of people watching it. Plenty of news reports during that time referenced it. It was rumored to have been played before the city council, resulting in unanimous support of the ban. But what was on the video remained a mystery and any remnant of the video itself couldn’t be found.

Which shouldn’t be possible with the internet. Conspiracy theories abound on the matter—some saying there was no footage in the first place and others saying it was so horrible as to have been erased by time traveling aliens.

In truth, it was the work of a hacker. One of considerable skill to wipe out any trace of this video and not be discovered. There were people willing to pay millions just for a segment of the footage. Plenty of hackers across the world had tested their skills to find even a trace of the original video to no avail.

These other hackers were not Robin.

“I got the footage.” He announced as he held up the USB drive.

Superbly started in surprise, staring at the item in the Boy Wonder’s hand. “This is it?”

“Supposedly.” Robin replied with a shrug.

The Holy Grail of hidden data. A hacker’s ultimate prize. Every journalist and tabloid reporter’s wet dream.

“I haven’t watched it myself,” as he felt it wasn’t his right to intrude on this when it was an issue of his friend’s family, “so I don’t know what’s on there. But whatever’s in this, it’s safe to say it isn’t going to be pretty.”

That was putting it lightly. The video had been so deeply hidden that it was its own urban legend at this point. The incident it showed was bad enough to not only warrant it being hidden from the world, but to set off the “Paris Supers Ban” and arrest of Superman.

The death of a hero was always big news. Even if it’s only barely avoided.

The fact that anyone could HIDE it spoke volumes. Both in regards to the original censor’s ability as well as the importance of the data itself.

Conner nodded, resolute.

“I need to know.”

Robin handed over the device. He probably should have taken it to Batman…probably. But this was Conner’s case. His family. It was his right to decide what to do with the information.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were…accepting of Conner to say the least. They allowed him to enter Paris despite the ban. They let him help. They were kind and accommodating and quite frankly everything that Conner needed.

But…they weren’t exactly open. Not about certain things.

This was one of those things, and Conner had been wanting answers about the “Incident” that cut Paris off from the Superhero world. What made them finally say “enough”? He would ask, but nobody knew. The few who did know refused to speak of it.

Conner wanted to know why. What had they experienced that was so horrible?

Maybe it was a way of feeling closer to them?

Maybe it was a way to understand them better?

Maybe it was just wanting to see the harder things they had faced?

“We’ll be right here with you, Conner.” Wally reassured him when his hands started to shake.

“Remember, you’ll have full access of the gym and training grounds, but you won’t be allowed to leave the Mountain for 24 hours after this.” Kaldur gently stated. Partly to remind Conner of the agreement, lest he attempt to run off to Paris in anger or fear and risk an akuma. Partly to subtly prompt everyone else to ensure that Conner does not accomplish the former.

Still…the choice was already clear.

Conner put the drive into the computer and pressed play.

The video only lasted a few minutes.

A few minutes was more than enough.

_______________________

“Oh…oh my god.” Came the words of the person recording, her voice as shaky as her hands that held the camera.

The damage was…extensive. Rubble, broken glass, and downed buildings littered the background. There was a sad mix of gray and brown as far as the eye could see. Of the destroyed roads and pavement. Of steel beams littering the ground. Of rock and dirt and what may very well have been ash.

Amidst the ruined landscape, there was one spot of color. A bright red standing out amidst the muted neutral around her. Normally a source of bravery and inspiration, it took a few seconds for the camera to get her properly in focus, and a few more for it to register that there was significantly more red in the scene than there should have been.

Ladybug wasn’t standing so much as she was leaning backwards in a half-upright position. Forced to stay on her legs despite her clear lack of strength. The only thing holding her up were the very things responsible for her current state…three steel spikes that extended from the ground beneath her.

They were exiting her torso. One piercing the upper left part of her body, right close to her shoulder. One through her naval. And the third on the right side, for all purposes appearing to have hit a lung.

She was breathing, though it was clearly labored. She was constantly torn between some variation of taking a gasping breath in and crying it out. Her suit could protect her—it was supposed to protect her from anything, but even this was too much.

It was clear she couldn’t move. She had to remain there, impaled on steel. Both to limit her injuries as much as possible and just due to inability from the sheer pain she was in.

The camera was focused on her, though it was shaky at best. The person recording it could be heard muttering unintelligibly with some mention of a hospital and frequent repetition of “oh god” thrown in. Some noise could be heard in the background of someone sounding quite ill, which was understandable given the sight of their hero impaled and choking on her own blood.

Within a minute of the video starting, the crunching sound of boots running on glass and stones could be heard coming closer. The sound of panting grew louder as Chat Noir cleared a hill and entered into view, rushing and stumbling towards Ladybug while holding something in front of him.

The camera zoomed on him, bringing him into focus as he cleared the last hurdle.

“I’ve got it!” Chat exclaimed, racing back to her side with her yoyo in hand. “I’ve got it! It’s okay. It’s over. It’s over now. It’s finished. He’s done.”

“Sh…Ch…” Her head hung limply and her eyes were barely able to focus on him as he tried to get her to look at him without moving her too much.

“It—It’s okay! It’s going to be okay!” He whispered to her, so softly that the camera barely caught it. He was clearly panicked and trying desperately not to let it show. “We just need the Cure. If you cast the Cure, everything will be better, okay?”

She didn’t appear to be listening, though. And barely seemed aware of anything. “Ch-ck…Chaaa…”

The video zoomed in on them both. Ladybug dazed and bleeding out. Chat crying and trying not to break down completely.

“Please! I just need you to say the words! Say the words and you’ll be okay! Can you do that?”

“Huurrr…s…” She slurred, begging him without words for help.

“I know! I know! But you can fix it. C’mon, M’lady, please!”

“I…I cn…”

“Say the words. Just two words, okay?” He begged desperately, patting her cheek in an attempt to both soothe her and keep her attention on him. “Two words and then you can go to sleep, I promise.”

“Ch…a…”

“Just…just two words, that’s it! I’ll…I’ll even say them with you, okay?”

She winced. “Nn…”

She clearly wasn’t listening, but he was desperate and so started to try. “Miraculous—”

She sobbed.

“No, no. Listen to me, okay? Say it with me!” He ordered, forcing her to look at him. “Mi. Say it with me! Mi!”

“M…mi…”

“Racu!”

“ra…” Her gaze started to waver.

He shook her. “Cu!”

“…cu…lous…”

He gave a weak laugh. Even now she was ahead of him. “Ladybug.”

“La…laa-deee…”

He shook her again. ��LADYBUG!”

“……b…u—gahck-ugh—" She was cut off by harsh coughing.

But it was enough.

Thank every god out there it was enough.

The Cure spilled out from the object she was holding, transforming into magical ladybugs that covered everything in their wake. Unfortunately, the casting of the Cure and incoming loveliness caused the person holding the camera to drop it, losing sight of the video and cutting the feed.

_______________________

The ringing of her phone got Marinette’s attention, drawing her away from the movie she was watching with Adrien and the Dolls.

“Hello?”

“Miss Ladybug.” Came the voice on the end. “This is Aqualad.”

She blinked in surprise. “Aqualad? Is everything okay?”

“Yes…just…” The sound of angry whispers could be heard on the other end. “Would you be able to come speak with Conner today?”

Marinette frowned at that. While she certainly enjoyed seeing Conner, that…didn’t sound like a good thing. If anything, it sounded like a plea. And the voices that sounded like an argument in the background only made it sound worse.

“Is everything okay?”

Adrien seemed to notice the concern in her voice as he had stopped paying attention to the movie to focus on her. In turn, Chaton was peeking over the couch at her, curious as to what was going on.

“No. We found a recording of something…personal to you. Conner saw it and now he’s rather upset. We think it might help if you were here.”

“WHAT?!” She exclaimed. This definitely got the attention of the other dolls, all of whom had abandoned the movie in favor of checking on their Mama.

Her eyes narrowed. Suddenly full Mom mode was on.

“Aqualad. Tell me right now what happened.”

And Kaldur caved immediately with only a small sigh.

“Robin found the video of the akumatized hero who attacked you and instigated the events leading to the Paris Ban.” He explained. “I apologize. We should have checked with you first, but at Conner’s request, we all watched it.”

Marinette sighed. “I thought that was buried.”

“We’re rather good at digging.” Robin’s voice could be heard on the other side of the line.

“Hang on. I’ll be right over.” She told them before hanging up.

“Marinette? What happened?” She turned to see Adrien standing before her, looking rather concerned. Picking up on her tension, he had stopped the movie. And sure enough, four little dolls stared up at her in worry.

She sighed. There was nothing else for it.

“Who wants to go on a trip?”

The Dolls perked up at that.

Adrien, however, noticed how tense she was.

“Mari?”

“They saw the tape.”

His eyes widened. “Oh.” He reached out to her, and without even thinking, she moved into his arms. He clutched her tightly, soothing her and himself. It was…not a pleasant thing to have to relive. That so-called “hero” had caused more damage than just that one day. And more than any of them had truly recovered from.

The dolls seemed to catch on to the atmosphere, because their excitement died down.

“It’ll be okay, Mari. Let’s just be there for him. And I’ll be here for you.”

She held him back just as tight.

“Together then?”

“Always.”

#ml fic #mominette #superhero ban #ml crossover #dc crossover #conner kent #robin #Young Justice #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #dolls au #trigger warning

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arcticrxt · 4 years ago

Text

Some dream smp mbtis and enneagrams bc I love it!!!

@dreamsclock here it is!!

Characters:

Wilbur

Ghostbur

Tommy

Dream

Tubbo

Quackity

Karl

Under the cut bc they’re kinda long. Keep in mind this is the characters and not the content creators :]

WILBUR

Personally for me I’d type c!wilbur as ENFJ which is interesting for a villainous character. When he spirals into madness, you can see his dominant function (Fe) become more unhealthy, leading to him being very manipulative. He shows Ti-grip when his Fe is left to burn out, becoming critical of others and their methods, preferring he do it instead (seen with tommy during their exile). Ni auxiliary is shown in his ambition and drive for his goal of L’manburg.

For his enneagram, i know wilbur said he based c!wilbur off of the song eight by sleeping at last, but hear me out,,, I was thinking maybe a 3w4. The 8 characteristics could be seen in a tritype of 368. Type three is named the achiever which in itself stands for his vision and ambition of L’manburg. 3w4s are often working towards personal growth and professional success. When unhealthy, 3s can get extremely competitive and prone to one-upping others. May reject their sense of self and develop intense mood swings. At worst they can backstab ruthlessly (tommy and the whole of L’manburg and pogtopia) and destroy others reputations solely for their benefit (“if i can’t have this no one can”). The tritype Im a bit if-y on but I’ll say 368 because it focuses on working hard, achieving personal best and developing a winning image. They will want to protect others from those they perceive as a target (dream, Schlatt), they will warn and caution others and seek “worthy” authorities they can respect.

GHOSTBUR His Si is incredibly high so imma say ISFJ. His main motive (id say) is wanting to collect stories of his past and the history of the nation he built, his “unfinished symphony”. Fe auxiliary is very strong as well as he shows a lot of compassion to others, offering them some blue in times of need and also not wanting anyone to feel sadness like he feels it. Ghostbur ignores his own feelings in order for others to feel safe. His Ti is shown through his need for gathering knowledge to understand alivebur and i could also see it through his internalised logic that the blue will help people. Not sure on inferior Ne, maybe through not wanting to see other possibilities in regards to his resurrection, however he was under a lot of stress since his home just got blown up, and friend died, so I can’t blame him.

He clearly doesn’t want conflict so I’ll say type 9. Needs peace and harmony (he gives out blue to help people). Soothing voice, and collected (except when Phil blew up L’manburg but that’s reasonable). He’s complacent, and humble, and will go the extra mile so long as to not rock the boat. Appreciative of the small things in life and enjoy simple pleasures.

TOMMY For Tommy I think ESFP which is probably one of the ones I’m up for more opinions on bc I’m not completely sure of his type. Se as dominant as he thrives on living in the moment but in an unhealthy way (unnecessary conflicts) He’s got a strong Fi auxiliary and you can see that through his personal morals and the way he usually makes decisions based off of emotions rather than objective facts and logical reasoning. He’s good at planning, but not at thinking out the longevity of it. Eg when heady exile and found technos house and lived under there, thinking techno would find him, this all shows Se-Te loop. He gradually develops an unhealthy Fi which leads to him disregarding external relationships (his friendship with tubbo) and commitments to maintain his internal love of the discs.

Enneagram wise, I’m definitely leaning towards 7w6. 7s are usually jumping from one thing to another and are constantly getting bored. The wing 6 brings loyalty and protectiveness. When unhealthy, sevens become narcissistic in their actions and presentation (see his confrontation with tubbo after tubbo thought he was dead, and the “the discs are worth more than you ever were” granted he quickly realises what he said but the mentality was still there).

DREAM I think he’s a fairly obvious stereotype unhealthy ENTJ. He has a very low Fi. When we see him driven by emotion (usually anger) it’s terrifying and we have no context about it at all except that it’s for a need of control. He knows how to manipulate people through his charisma and power in an ENTJ fashion. He lost attachment to his things very quickly (using Te and Ni to go forward logically while also showcasing his inferior Fi)

Dream is a very painfully obvious 8, probably an 8w7, but he is defined an 8. The eight has fiery passions and is usually stubborn and headstrong, they are serious about control over their environment. They are goal-oriented and self-competent. Eights are direct and aren’t shy when taking the lead and making tough decisions. They are often seen in leadership positions. The eight type is part of the “body based” triad and they often act impulsively. They crave respect and enjoy being likes by the group. When unhealthy, eights can become tyrannical and intimidating, scaring off others at first glance. They become addicted to the pursuit of power and will destroy anything blocking their path. Feelings and emotions become insignificant (spirit :’)) challengers become stone-cold and take an antagonist stand to anyone who questions them or their motives. This is the one I’m most most sure of out of every typing I’ve done bc it seems painfully obvious.

TUBBO I’d say probably an Fe dom so maybe ENFJ/ESFP but I’m leaning more to the ENFJ side. Tubbo realised after he thought tommy had died that, without tommy he was himself. Something Fe doms struggle with the most is self worth and personal identity. They’re caught up in wanting to help others that they don’t tend to their own needs. He’s careless and self sacrificing when it comes to the needs of others (him giving up his life so that tommy could have the discs and be happy) and bc he has such low self esteem he doesn’t realise that that’s not what tommy wants. The reason I’m more leaning to ENFJ is because of his inferior Ti. Though he didn’t want to due to dominant Fe, he was lead to believe exiling tommy was the best possible solution. You can see he regrets it after tommy and dream had left. When he was working under schlatt we saw his remorse and guilt even though he knew it had to be done. We see his dominant Fe during his time as president when others push him to do things and he usually agrees. He was manipulated through guilt by dream which is very unhealthy ENFJ.

(I wrote this before the ghostbur one so sorry for any repetitive language) For enneagram, type nine: the peacemaker. Type 9s are motivated by their need for peace and harmony (tubbo was manipulated into believing that getting rid of tommy would achieve this). They have a calm demeanour and are agreeable. They’re hardworking, friendly, and modest but also more serious and diligent than expected. (I’m not too sure on his enneagram which is why this is so short)

QUACKITY Estj imo. Like dream, he’s unhealthily obsessed with power, (unhealthy dominant Te). He abandoned L’manburg because schlatt wouldn’t let him have any say, and he was shoved to the side, despite it being a coalition government. He is very logical and controls others. He makes sure he comes out as the hero and that his hands are clean, learning it from past experiences (Si). He quickly finds ways to get out of situations through the use of tertiary Ne. Doesnt show a lot of Fi and he usually underestimates his opponents abilities and/or strength due to his overconfidence. He’s willing to kill anyone who goes against what he thinks and is stubborn and argumentative. He doesn’t like it when people are lazy and don’t contribute.

Also, similarly to dream, I’d type his enneagram as 8w7. The same with his obsession of power, and his strong/weak mindset where he thinks the world is made up of protectors and those who need to be protected (see him taking it upon himself to execute technoblade for the better of L’manburg) which is all very textbook 8. The opinions of others don’t have much effect on him. Eights are concerned with justice, combating oppression, and protecting the weak. He takes the lead in making tough decisions (he’s the butcher army leader). He becomes more antagonist and villainous with his actions against technoblade, believing he’s in the right. (I didn’t want to just copy out what I said for dream so this is a shortened version)

KARL Torn between ENFP and ESFP but leaning toward ENFP. He’s time travelling because he believes it’s the right the to do which is more so Fi, but could be Fe wanting to help others at his personal cost. But also the Fi-Te pair keeps him going and he won’t stop until it’s fulfilled (which is pretty Te imo). He is creative and good with imagination and ideas (Ne) (at the masquerade, although it was a comical excuse, he came up with minecraft streamer quickly, he was also able to answer billiams questions pretty quickly).

Even though it’s now canon he doesn’t choose when and where he travels to, which would have been a stronger argument for a type seven, he’s still enthusiastic at the times he travels to. He’s optimistic (with the mentality everything will go right for him because he believes it has to, even though he’s loosing a lot of memories atm). He’s got childlike energy and curious eyes. He wants to bounce from one place to another, he created two towns already, although one technically no one knows about gogtopia except for the founders and tommy who travelled through it. He’s well like and popular, which is often a 7 trait. The type 7 is part of the “heart-based” triad, and we can see him act through this with the way he seeks excitement as a means to distract himself from the darker, and more painful things in life. He ignores his fears in favour of positive experiences. For a wing, probably a 7w6 in favour of 7w8, the same as tommy. He’s loyal and a strong leader over being tough and more career-driven. If he was to turn unhealthy in the future, we might see him loose his groundedness, and start to live in a perpetual fantasy instead of reality.

Sorry for any typos or bad grammar :]

#I posted this on some other account but deleted it and just decided to post it here :]#I’d like to do more in future bc I love mbti and enneagram but idk #Wilbur soot #tommyinnit #ghostbur #dreamwastaken #tubbo #quackity #Karl #dsmp #dsmpblr #dream smp #mcyt #mbti #enneagram

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sophi-s · 4 years ago

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It's been a while since I last touched my Darksiders/Hollow Knight crossover thingy. It's because I'm mostly out of ideas. I tried to do Avarice but I'm kinda scared where this is gonna go from the point I got to ��

To fill in a hole, I give you a short backstory for Moth!Azrael (with Abaddon being mentioned there, of course).

Just a head's up, Azrael is sad. Very sad.

Out of all members of the long gone moth tribe, the powerful sorcerer Azrael was the most devoted to their Goddess, the Radiance. He used to teach hatchlings her ways and spread her religion wherever he went, acting kind of as her prophet. As long as the bugs of the land that would eventually become Hallownest remained in Radiance's grasp, primitive and following the basest of instincts, all linked to their hive mind, everything seemed to be just fine. But this serenity was abruptly broken by the arrival of the Pale King.

The Wyrm granted bugs the ability to formulate thoughts and a free will of their own. Not long after this, they started to turn their backs on the Radiance, choosing this new God, pale as moonlight, a stark contrast to the sun they used to revere. Eventually, even the moths abandoned her. All of them. Except for Azrael. Of course, possessing free will meant freedom of choice. And he chose the Radiance.

At first, the Goddess hid away, deep inside her Realm of Dreams, hurt and slowly fading as her followers left and forgot her. Azrael attempted to console her, assuring her that he's, after all, still there for her and that as long as he lives, so will she.

But it wasn't long before hurt turned into bitterness and bitterness into blind rage. Radiance unleashed the Infection upon Hallownest as an act of desperation and aggression against the Pale King. To say Azrael was horrified, would've been an understatement. The Goddess he knew his whole life, one who loved him like her own son, one he loved like his own mother (to some extent, she was his mother), transformed from the soft sunlight he trusted into a twisted monster blinded by spite, driven by vengeance against the Wyrm.

Azrael tried reasoning with the enraged Goddess but to no avail. Heartbroken and scared, he eventually left her side like all others have before him. His kind nature couldn't stand the atrocities committed in the name of petty revenge.

One day, the one who unintentionally angered the Radiance, extended his hand to Azrael and proposed an alliance, offering the depressed moth a way out of the hole he found himself in. Azrael reluctantly accepted and soon had a new purpose.

To some extent, Azrael recovered and even made some friends in the White Palace (Monomon and Quirrel were his fellow scholars and he enjoyed their company) as he attempted to aid the King in battling the Infection. The moth tribe began to die out until very few of them remained and Azrael was one of them.

Though he was utterly devoted to stopping the plague of the Old Light, his faith in the Pale Monarch faltered once he learned what the Wyrm intends to do to the silent child who one day returned to the Palace with him. And when he discovered what the King had done to create the Pure Vessel, the scholar was left heartbroken and betrayed once again but… Should he remain alone, he'd surely succumb to grief and fall down. Honestly, he couldn't decide which of the two was worse. A once loved Goddess driven mad by lust for vengeance after the loss of her children? Or the Pale Wyrm who was willing to sacrifice everything to achieve his goals? After some time with his thoughts, Azrael settled on the latter. The King at least had good intentions and wished to save Hallownest and his subjects, no matter the cost, while Radiance was forcing innocent bugs under her whim in hopes of reaching and getting rid of the Wyrm once and for all. Trying to seek out the Fallen Brother of the Radiance was out of question as Azrael had no wish to get involved in the affairs of the Nightmare King.

At some point in time, Azrael was approached by his friend, one of the generals of the Pale King, Abaddon. The other bug told the moth he was having dreams of searing light and a soft but spiteful voice calling him, telling him to "remember" and "destroy the Pale Usurper". First symptoms of the Infection.

Because Azrael was a moth, he knew a lot about the Dream Realm and even wielded a Dream Nail of his own. This is exactly the reason Abaddon came to him. No amount of convincing would dissuade the stubborn warrior from taking the steps against the source of the Infection that was the Radiance. Azrael eventually agreed to help, even though he knew his friend stood no chance against the Goddess. If they didn't do anything, he would meet fate worse than death but if he tried, he would surely perish. A lose-lose situation. However… if somehow, by a stroke of luck this mad plan succeeded.. It was worth a shot. If only to end the suffering and spare the Hollow Child from the torment awaiting them.

In secret from the King, Azrael and Abaddon retreated into the Resting Grounds where the veil between the Dreams and Reality is thin. Using herbs and magic, Azrael managed to project Abaddon's consciousness into the Dream Realm, first lending him all the strength he could spare.

His fears were unfortunately confirmed as not even two hours since falling asleep Abaddon suddenly started to convulse violently, shaking and letting out strained screams of pain. Radiance was undoubtedly winning. It was over in barely a minute. The unyielding warrior passed away on Azrael's hands before the moth had a chance to pull him back into the waking world.

Ashamed, devastated and terrified, Azrael laid his friend to rest in a grave beside his beloved who succumbed to the Infection long ago and returned to the White Palace. The King would've heard about it sooner or later. As expected, the Monarch was not pleased by the news. However, with how useful Azrael was, all Wyrm did to punish the moth for disobedience and indirectly causing the death of one of the most skilled warriors of Hallownest was forbid him from ever setting foot in the Palace again until he revokes this decision.

After this fiasco, the Infection seemed to be spreading even faster, decimating entire villages in merely a couple months. There was no way of stopping it. The only one who could make a difference was the teenage Pure Vessel. But they still needed time to grow up and finish their training.

Azrael spent about four days in exile before something strange happened. While he was at the Blue Lake to enjoy some peace and quiet, a sound of footsteps ripped him out of his silent musings. When he turned around, his heart skipped. He could've sworn he saw his deceased friend dart across the pathway to the Crossroads. Confused and apprehensive, Azrael decided to investigate. And that was a mistake.

Once the moth caught up with his friend who limped through the caverns, he realised what a fool he'd been as a single, orange eye glared at him beside a ruined, empty eye socket. Infected. But Abaddon - or rather his infested corpse - didn't charge at Azrael. With a disturbing, garbled voice, he told the moth that the Radiance wants to speak with him face-to-face. It didn't seem he had much choice. Using his Dream Nail, Azrael travelled to the Realm of his mistress. Soon, he found himself before his once beloved Goddess who pleaded for him to help her crush the Pale King. Return her children he'd taken from her. Azrael again tried to reason with her but still in vain. If anything, the Radiance decided sadly the King managed to corrupt even his once pure thoughts to turn him against her. But she neither killed nor Infected Azrael. She still loved him after all.

One of the last members of the moth tribe vanished without a trace, leaving the Pale Court in confusion. His spirit, trapped by his "mother" in the Dream Realm - as she hoped she will be able to eventually convince him to return to her side, to be her son again without forcing the Infection into his mind - remains shackled to the Dream without a chance for rescue. Azrael patiently awaits the end of the Infection, hoping that either Radiance will eventually let go, or the Pale King actually succeeds in defeating her for good. Until then, his body protected by a Seal of Binding - created by the Radiance herself - slumbers hidden away from the world under the supervision of the former Champion of the Wyrm, nobody (except for the Infected as they share the mind of the Old Light) knows where, waiting for someone to release him from the hold of the vengeful Goddess.

#darksiders #darksiders azrael #azrael #hollow knight/darksiders au #crossover #hollow knight #abaddon #backstory #my art #fan art #I tried to make it look like screenshot XD

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wherearemyglassesbro · 4 years ago

Text

A h/etalia Umbrella academy au but it isn’t actually one, it’s just inspired by UA kinda...idk

//Uh keep in mind that this is going straight from the drafts onto your dash and uhhh there will for sure be spelling errors so don’t roast me lmao

Roman ‘Roma’ Vargas: An eccentric billionaire who founded the Academy of the World’s Finest (or the AWF for short). He gets bored very quickly and went from buying rockets to building hotels to managing casinos to buying children. A very crazy sequence of events! (Roma has many secrets but I don’t feel like fleshing it’s out rn this is just the bare bones of this just for fun!! And if you’ve seen both seasons of UA you probably already knows what you need to know). One faithful day, October 1st 1989, multiple beautiful babies were born from women who were not pregnant the day they were born. This phenomenon made itself known to Roma and he was off to find as many of these children that he could! He sent his staff all over the world to buy these children. He successfully purchased 9.

Number 1, purchased for $10,000 in Las Vegas: Number 1 was picked to be number 1 because Roma thought he was such a strong looking baby. Alfred was actually purchased fifth out of his siblings but no one knows that except Roma himself. Alfred, from a young age, was able to cause an obscene amount of damage. When he held Roma’s hand while learning to walk, he crushed the bones in his hand. When he kicked a soccer ball down the hallway, it went through the wall like a meteor. When he knocked on Arthurs door to bother him, the door snapped in half (and Art screamed bloody murder). He has an insane amount of strength without even trying! It was very hard for him to get a handle on it because he’s so spontaneous and isn’t really one to think before acting but once he and hs siblings started training for hero work?? That was his motivation to be better, to control his power to use it against bad guys!!! He’s the golden boy of the family, he never disobeys Roma and will never, even now, say anything bad about him. ‘Hey! He’s my dad, he saved me from whatever shithole life I was destined to have in Nevada. I couldn’t be more thankful for my life! And mom, if you’re watching this...Thanks. I don’t know who you are but...Thank you’

Number 2, purchased for $25,000 in Le Mans: Number 2’s power presented itself only after he learned to talk. Francis’s power of persuasion is both a blessing and a curse for him. He’s struggled greatly with being ‘number 2’, he wants the same validation and attention as ‘number 1’ gets. He doesn’t think it’s fair. He often used his power for bad things arond the house like ‘J'ai entendu une rumeur that you broke every finger on your right hand!’ that was a very gruesome morning for Alfred and the scolding that Francis got scarred him for life as he was insulted and cursed out in front of his family. Even after that, he still kept up his happy exterior. He was also usually the face of the AWF, appearing on magazine covers which he may or may not have influenced the writers just a bit. His power is strong but he does not use it on Roma because he’s terrified of what would happen if he did!! As he’s gotten older, he’s falls off the wagon a little but he’s trying to make a solid recovery. Also, when he was 7 he found out he was born in France! He then forced himself to become totally fluent in French and taught himself to have a French accent too. Whoopie....

Number 3, purchased for $1000 in Sicily: Number 3 is a dangerous child, he was from day one. When he was born, he was presenting a 116 degree fever yet he was acting totally normal. His mother was convinced he was the devil and was more than happy to sell him off to Roma. Roma felt a deep connection to Lovi from the start....Lovi looked like him. He looked like he could be his biological son. Lovi got special treatment from Roma often but he still felt overshadowed by his siblings. I mean, a majority of his siblings are pretty blondes. He felt left out often. But he would channel that anger into training and cooking! He has a trick that he likes to do, cracking an egg into his palm and cooking it. That one impresses Alfred every time! Not that he’s hard to impress. Lovi would often push himself too far in his quest to be the best and snap at his siblings, leaving him even more alienated from them. He spent a lot of time around Roma and Feli, mostly Roma. He got a lot of one-on-one training with him and a lot of praise too. All he ever wanted to do was be perfect for his father. He set bad guys on fire, did interviews on live tv, set fire to a warehouse full of gang members, all kinds of stuff that he never would have done on his own. Stuff that he didn’t want to do. All so he could impress Roma

Number 4, purchased for $700 outside of Berlin: Number 4 has always been hyper and loud! But his powers suddenly developed over night, which was terrifying for him. Gilbert awoke in the middle of the night to pee one night and was met with a ghost in the bathtub. Naturally, Roma encouraged him to speak with ghosts and would make him go to cemeteries to talk to the dead. Ghosts scared him so he’d secretly take Benadryl to knock himself out but as he got older, he realized that he couldn’t be scared anymore cause these ghosts needed a friend :( so he used these ghosts to fight in missions and in return, he’d play games with them and chat with them, just being friend with the ones who had a hard time crossing over :’) he likes using his powers for good but feels like he’s taking advantage of his ghost friends sometimes which took the fun out of crime fighting

Number 5, given to Roma for free outside of Kyoto: Number 5 got a late start compared to his siblings. His powers took awhile longer to manifest and he had trouble learning to read. But once he caught up, he proved himself to be the smartest out of all of them. Smarter than some of them combined, even. Kiku still often indulged in his siblings antics but at the same time, he felt he was somewhat superior to them. He learned to poof himself from one side of the room to the other, starting off small. He figured out he could time travel one night when Francis and Gil were hammered and knocked a vase over. Kiku felt every muscle in his body tense, then a sensation of falling, then he was suddenly 10 seconds in the past!! Wow!! He caught the vase before it could hit the ground and kicked Fran so he fell down, leaving him to sleep on the foyer floor while Gil just stood there like ‘wtf...?’. When Roma started berating him for ‘getting too cocky’, Kiku threw a bit of a hissy fit and decided to jump to the future!! He did and landed himself in the aftermath of the 2019 apocalypse, unable to get back home cause he wore himself out and had no idea what he had even done to get himself there in the first place lmao sucker.

Number 6, purchased for $10,000 in York: Number 6 was an extremely fussy baby. All he did was cry and cry and cry, it was very frustrating for Roma since the other babies were somewhat easier to handle. Arthur was indeed a handful. When he was hungry, baby food tins and spoons would float out of the pantry and over to his highchair. When he wanted to torment his siblings, he’d take their things and throw them across the room with his mind. When a sinking was annoying him, he’d simply lift them up and shove them out of his room. Easy. He is probably the smartest or second smartest of his siblings. He isn’t the most athletic but he spent lots of time studying, so much so that Roma had to constantly buy new books for Art to read to keep him mentally stimulated. He was often a voice of reason though no one listened to him. When fighting he was very useful!! He never needed to get close to the bad guys, he could throw them around without moving a muscle! The only downside is that it wore him out after awhile...Ugh. He avoided the media but did do interviews with his mask on, encouraging kids his age to stay in school! By the time Art was 13, he was taking college level tests and reading college level material so...he’s one smart cookie

Number 7, given to Roma for free in undisclosed location in Russia: Number 7 is too powerful for her own good. At a young age, Francis was told to convince her that she had no powers. This was done in secret, only Roma, the house staff, Francis and Kiku knew it happened. Everyone else was oblivious and left out of the loop. Vanya has the ability to shake the earth, to cause obscene amounts of damage in the blink of an eye. Her power was something that Roma could have never prepared himself for. So from that day on, Vanya was a ‘normal girl’. She watched from the sidelines as her siblings got to train and fight. She sat with Feli to paint or sew or just talk. She went through every day feeling worthless, like she wasn’t meant to be a part of this family. She channeled her feelings into art, painting canvasses worth of rainy cities or melting people. She made a series of paintings depicting her siblings’ abilities through chunky brushstrokes and vibrant colors. Each painting sold for over one million dollars. She thought her art career would impress her father. It didn’t.

Number 8, purchased for $15,000 and 10 cows outside of Oslo: Number 8 was always a quiet boy, he kept to himself and Roma thought he may be powerless as well for almost 5 years until lightning struck the house...on a bright sunny day...not a cloud in the sky. Turns out Lukas and Kiku were arguing. They were only 5 so they were just shrieking and yelling nonsense then BAM!!!! Lighting. Roma was so terrified but Lukas was giggling and shooting soarks out of his hands, his hair sticking up like crazy. He was always quiet and reserved, he spent a lot of time in the library or on the roof just looking out over the city. He didn’t like sneaking out of the house like his brothers and sisters did but he went ‘to keep an eye on them’...he always had fun though. He stayed away from the media and wore a mask that his most of his face so he wouldn’t be recognized. Sadly, in a tough fight in a hostage situation, Lukas was shot and killed when he was 15, right when he was starting to consider writing a book about hero work and how as he aged, he was becoming more confident in himself due to helping others. It was a tragic loss for his siblings

Number 9, purchased for $800 and a new car in La Coruna: Number 9 was successful from the start, surpassing her siblings in height very very fast. Her power just happens to be her speed. Carmen, as a baby, was a lot to handle since she crawled around the house at 40 miles an hour. Even her sleep schedule was quick, she’d take a 20 minute speed nap and have enough energy to run around for hours after. When she was introduced to the idea of being a hero, she agreed so fast that she nearly bit her tongue off. She always got her chores done quick, helped around the house, all of that since a task that would take 3 hours only took a few minutes for her. She was a great female role model and did many interviews for teen magazines to encourage girls to be their best, that has always been her message. She even wrote ‘GRLPWR’ on her cheeks in black paint before heading off to fight crime in case she had her picture taken. Roma wasn’t a huge fan of that but she didn’t care too much :) she has always stuck up for her sisters!! And she has always been close to Fran and Gil but as they got older, their interests began to differ so she found herself hanging with Vanya and Arthur more

Feliciano Vargas: Roma Vargas’s only biological son. He does not have powers and often felt left out when he was left behind while his siblings went on missions. He’s 2 years younger than the rest of them and is often referred to as ‘stupid little brother’ by Lovino which hurt his feelings. When he was a baby, they were like 2 and a half so they didn’t see him as ‘aww look my baby brother!’ They just found him annoying cause he cried a lot. Like his siblings, he never met his mom but he does feel good knowing that he will always have his dad. When he and the academy kids fight, he will often rub it in their faces that at least Roma is his biological dad. That really rubs salt in the wounds, huh? Feli has always gotten on well with Vanya, they got left behind all the time so they got to paint and play music together :) they made eachother very happy

Gilbert and Lukas: Gil didn’t really like Lukas much when they were younger cause Lukas was just...quiet and reserved. Gil is the exact opposite. But now that Lukas is dead, Gil pities him and hangs out with him. They trained a lot together but Gil got embarassed when they trained cause if someone were to walk in, they’d just see Gil shouting and punching at nothing so...They trained in the dark at 3am on the roof where they wouldnt be interrupted. Now that Gil is older, he can channel Lukas almostperfectly. Lukas has an almost totally physical form when Gil uses his powers, allowing Lukas to channel lightning the way he was able to when he was alive. Lukas doesn’t like doing that too often cause it’s a bit cruel, getting to feel alive when you’re not :/

Kuma: Kuma was a normal polar bear that was experimented on in a lab that Roma funded. The scientists combined his DNA with monkey and human DNA and after much trial and error, they were able to get his brain to process English. So he wears a collar that allows him to talk. He scolded the kids for running around in the house but then five minutes later he’d let them ride his back while HE ran around the halls :) he was like a fun uncle to them. He wore a bow tie :)

Wan yu: Roma fell in love with a woman from China when he was younger. She was studying culinary arts in Italy and he absolutely fell head over heels for her. But things didn’t work out. So once the tech came around, he had an advanced robot version of his first love created for the sole purpose of loving him and his children. She was programmed to be a great role model, compassionate, patient and...A good cook. The kids all called her mom or ma and even though she never technically had favorites, she was always fond of little Kiku. She was the one who taught him to read when he had trouble doing so and she’s stay up late with him in secret to help him catch up in other languages. The kids all had to learn Italian, English, Spanish, Greek and Russian bedore they were even 8 years old. Since Kiku took a bit longer to grasp that kind of stuff, she would sneak him down to the library to have one-on-one lessons with him. :) she was also very caring when it came to Alfred, she saw how hard he pushed himself sometimes and it hurt her to watch. She made cookies for him on especially rough days

Lukas’s death: Lukas’s death hit Arthur, Vanya and Gilbert especially hard. Arthur and Lukas bonded over similar interests, Lukas and Vanya played chess all the time and gossiped and Gilbert always thought that Lukas was the coolest sibling he had. His death was used as motivation for everyone else to continue training. Gilbert ‘summoned’ Lukas three days after his death and Lukas has followed him around ever sicne. Lukas wasn’t avtually summoned, he’d been secretly roaming the house for days and decided to just let Gil think he summoned him. Roma was depressed about his son’s death for a week or so but he never really allowed himself to feel negative emotions for too long so he was over it a bit...too quickly.

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haileygarciasunshine · 5 years ago

Text

Ghosts from the Past

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: swearing, fighting

Word Count: 2,645

Summary: When the readers friends call her in desperate need of back up, will she join the team after the fight or go back to her ‘normal’ life?

Avengers Masterlist

Continuing your walk down Park Ave, your phone rang again. It had been ringing off the hook all morning. Checking the caller ID, it was another one of the ghosts from your past. They didn’t know the new you, nor were you going to give them a chance to. They lost that privilege when they turned their back on you.

It had been a couple months, since the falling out. During that time, you had gotten your own apartment while studying to be a Doctor at New York Medical College. You didn’t move far from Manhattan, in deep hopes that your ex friends would call you needing your help.

Now that they were, you weren’t sure if you were ready to reopen that old wound.

“What’s up, Doc?” Your co-worker John greeted you as soon as you walked in through the bookstore doors, “You’ve got some visitors.”

Gesturing towards the group of men occupying, the front reading chairs for customers. Thankfully, they were all too busy looking out of the large window, to notice you walk in.

Sneaking by, your attention was still on the group of men when you walked into a built chest, halting your steps. The stranger dropped the books in his hands, as they had found your forearms in attempt to stop you from falling.

“I’m so sorry! I’m such a clutz.” You said hurriedly as you kneeled down to help the stranger pick up his books.

“It’s okay. No harm done.” He offered a light chuckle in attempt to lighten the mood.

As you handed him the books, his Icey blue eyes, ironically sent shivers down your spine.

Offering his hand he said, “I’m Steve.”

“Y/N.” You said accepting his hand shake.

His hand made its way to the back of his neck, nervously as he said, “Sorry about my friends over there..”

Before you could response, a deep voice cut in, “Nice to see you again, Y/N.” The man joined you and Steve before continuing, “You might’ve been able to sneak past the others, but you can’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

“Tony...” you started.

Looking between you and Tony a confused expression was across his features, “Wait. You two know eachother?”

Chuckling lightly, crossing his arms Tony replied, “She knows everyone on the team actually. Except for... you.” He stated matter of factly, pointing a finger at Steve.

“Now that you’ve met...”

“Tony. Don’t.” Your voice laced with bitter.

“Aye, Yo, boys!” Tony said, whistling afterwards, “Look who I found.”

You turned and glared at Tony before snarling, “Fuck you.”

Suddenly, the three men bounded over to join you. Each of the men, towering over you.

“Y/N!” Thor yelled in excitement as he run up behind you. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he momentarily forgot about his in humane strength, squeezing you as he twirled around with you in his arms.

Giggling you let your head fall back against his chest.

“Hey, Thor.”

Setting you back on your feet, he didn’t remove himself from you, earning an arched eye brow from Steve and Tony.

Removing his arms, he allowed Peter, and Robert to greet you giving you excited hugs. After everyone had greeted you, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders holding you to him, protectively. Giggling at his actions you brought your hands up, to rest on his arms.

“Hey, Doc.” John said as he joined the group, “You can go home for the day. It’s a slow day anyway.”

Tony was the first to turn and question you, “Why does this goon call you Doc?”

Scoffing you rolled your eyes at him, “Like you care.”

He frowned slightly, “I do..”

Anger overwhelmed your body, “Oh you do?” Thor had loosened his grip on you over the past few moments, as he was paying attention to something Peter was saying.

Sighing Tony tried, his voice laced with guilt, “Look, Kid.. I didn’t mean for things to play out the way they did...”

Taking a slight step forward, anger still evident in your voice, “Don’t call me kid. If you cared you wouldn’t have cut me out months ago!”

Thor snapped his attention to the scene playing out in front of him, suddenly pulling you forcefully back towards him, in attempt to keep your range controlled.

“Let me go!” You snarled at Thor, attempting to rip his arms off you.

“No. I won’t let you do something you’ll regret.”

“Oh really?” You were still trying to pry his arms off as you continued, “Where was your compassion months ago, huh Thor?”

“Y/N...”

Sighing, you gave up trying to get loose, “Save it.” You cut him off.

“No!” His voice boomed, “We are all going back to head quarters and we will sort this out. That’s final!”

“I’m not going.” You sassed him stubbornly.

“Fine.”

Thinking you had won, he let go of you. Shock was evident across your face as he grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Thor!” You shrieked.

He chuckled at your shriek, “We don’t have time to waste on your stubbornness. Let’s go.”

The group filed out of the book store, not bothering to question what Thor was doing.

“Hey, Y/N.” Peter said as he made his way closer to you.

Sighing you replied, “What is it Peter?”

“Why did the guy back at the book store, call you Doc?”

“Because, I’m a month away from graduating college and becoming a Doctor Peter.” You said, coming out more harsh then you intended.

“Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tony questioned.

“Tony, if I wasn’t hanging upside down off of gentle giant here, I would give you a bitch face.” You replied frustrated, “Because... It was very clear that you all wanted nothing to do with me.”

Feeling a deep rumble underneath you, Thor cut in, “Y/N.” He groaned.

“What? It’s the truth!”

Once everyone entered, the Avengers headquarters, the elevators dinged, signalling entry.

“Seriously? You can let me down now.” You sighed in frustration.

“No can do, little one.” Thor rumbled.

__________________________________________________________

“Y/N!” Natasha squealed excitedly, “Thor let the poor girl down!”

Thor finally, put you down, holding you steady as the blood dispersed through your body as it had rushed to your head, glancing at yourself in a window, your face was cherry red.

“Long time, no see! It’s good to have you back!”

“I’m not back.” Determination in your voice.

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed your hand, “Come on. Let’s get down to business. Besides it’s nice to have another female around.”

__________________________________________________________

“Wow.” You said starstruck, gazing around the conference room in the Avengers headquarters.

“I know, right?” Tony said beside you.

Rolling your eyes while crossing your arms, “Don’t talk to me. I’m still mad at you.”

Moving around the table, you pulled out a chair to sit. Thor slapped your hands away, being the gentleman he was, he pulled out your chair for you, sitting next to you.

“Our biggest concern right now is HYDRA.” Natasha started.

___________________________________________________________

“It can be overwhelming, when you throw yourself back into this.” A husky voice sounded, pulling your gaze from the night skyline of the city.

“Yeah....” You replied hesitantly, nervously scratching the back of your neck.

“I can see why the team, wouldn’t budge on their opinion of involving you in this mission.” Steve said gently.

Sighing you replied, “Yeah right. So far, you’ve only seen me act like a brat to the people I consider my family.” Guilt spread across your features as you confessed.

Shrugging he said, “It’s understandable. You’re hurt. People do things they don’t mean when they’re hurt.”

Awkward silence fell over the both of you.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” He gestured to the skyline.

“Breath taking.”

He hummed in response.

He was nervous about something, shifting his weight from foot to foot, a nervous tell.

“So...” He cleared his throat, “You and Thor, huh?”

His question caught you off guard, causing you to giggle. Steve turned his gaze towards you frowning slightly.

“No... Oh, no....Thor’s like my brother.” You let out, “Like a really annoying older brother.”

Embarrassment danced across his features, causing a light cherry tint to spread on his cheeks.

“I love the guy...Just not in a romantic way.” You quickly added.

Thor joined the both of you by the great window.

“Hey, guys.” He nodded, “I decided you’re staying the night, Y/N. I’ll bring a pillow and blanket to the living room area. Dinner will be ready in twenty. Don’t be late.”

“Thor. I’m not staying the night.” You said rolling your eyes.

Backing away from the both of you, he continued, “Yeah, well it looks like you will be.”

You groaned before responding, “Thor....”

“I think you should stay..” Steve tried.

His comment, caught you off guard causing you heat to rise to your cheeks, as butterflies erupted fluttering in your stomach.

“Are you... Are you sure?” Your voice barely above a whisper.

He offered you a smile and a nod in response. “Come, I’ll take you to the dining room.”

Suddenly, his hand was on the small of your back guiding you gently through the halls, giving you a mini tour as you went. As you entered the dining room, you saw y/f/f, out for dinner.

The table was a farmhouse style dinner table, long enough to fit the whole team. Thor sat on one side of you, while Steve surprisingly, opted to sit on the other side of you. Throughout dinner, Steve’s thigh firmly rested against yours, as his arm lightly brushed against yours. After dinner was finished, the team had continued sitting at the table. Steve’s hand, hesitantly, rested on your knee, before gently traveling to rest on your thigh, causing the butterflies to flutter more crazily than they did before.

___________________________________________________________

“Y/N!” Thor yelled in worry.

You were fighting with one of HYDRA’s minions. Attempting to look at the rest of the team, everyone was either fighting a minion or making their way to fight HYDRA per the plan. However, the plan had gone south a little. Thor, was surrounded by four minions, along with Peter and Tony.

Suddenly, you were thrown to the concrete. The man above you, barely let you hit the ground before he had you by the back of your hair, yanking you to your feet. Earning a groan in pain from you.

“What?” He smirked, “Little girl doesn’t have power like her friends?” He taunted.

“Shut up.” You spat. In retaliation, he punched you in the face. Your eyes involuntarily watered, as you could feel your lip split, from the impact. Before you could think of making your next move, his strong hand wrapped around your throat, beginning to squeeze, bringing you to your knees.

“Little Girl’s going to let her friends watch her die?” He laughed, bringing his face uncomfortably close to yours, “Don’t believe me? Take a look for yourself.”

He moved you so that you could look to the side. Confusion coursed through your body. The team was on their knees, with the minions behind them, ensuring their attention on you.

“Don’t worry.” His hot breath danced along the outer shell of your ear, “I’ll make it fast.” His grip on your throat tightened once again, causing you to gasp trying to breathe.

“Y/N.” Tony, Thor and Peter all said in unison, attempting to get your attention. You were able to turn your head slightly, gazing at the team, as you were gasping for air.

Suddenly they nodded before saying, “Do it.”

That was the only confirmation that you needed. Memory of the training that you had endured when you were with your friends, you were able to catch the man towering above you off guard. Kicking him in the leg, he stumbled back before yelling, “You bitch!”

Your lungs that were on fire from lack of oxygen, began to sooth. Placing your hand on the pavement, it began to crack from a mile away. The man shot you a confused look, before raising his fist running towards you, ready to strike again. Adrenalin was pumping, through your body, as your fight instincts kicked in.

Your friends knew about your abilities. You were able to control the four elements, Earth, Fire, Wind and Water.

The crack in the cement, progressed faster, before finally separating you and the man. Suddenly the cement, opened up behind the team, so close to the men holding them on their knees. Sending a nod their way, Tony, Thor and Peter, knew it was safe for them to retaliate at their attackers.

_____________________________________________________________

“You did great out there, kid.” Tony praised you, clapping you gently on the back.

You winced in pain as he touched your shoulder, earning a whine from you.

“Woah, Kid. You alright?”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, before he saw your dislocated shoulder.

“Tony...” You started, “Don’t....”

“Thor!” Tony yelled, through the halls.

“What is it Tony?” Thor sounded. The rest of the team joining you and Tony.

“We need you to pop Y/N’s, shoulder back in.”

“No. I’m fine....” You tried.

Tony nodded at Thor.

“Ready? On three.” He said, “One...”

Excruciating pain came from your shoulder, as you cried in pain.

“Hey, Tony?” You asked.

He hummed in response.

“Have I told you that I hate you?”

“I love you too Kiddo.”

You were sitting in the living room area with the rest of the team, mindlessly rubbed your neck where the man from earlier had his iron grip.

“Does it...Does it hurt?” Steve questioned worried from beside you, watching your actions.

“Not really.” You offered him a weak smile.

_________________________________________________________

“So....” Thor said, rocking back and forth on his feet, “I guess... I guess this is goodbye?”

The rest of the team was surrounding you. Their faces were written with somber expressions.

“Please don’t go, Y/N!” Peter suddenly exclaimed.

“Kid.” Tony said elbowing him in the side.

“No!” He said before continuing, “We need you Y/N! There’s plenty of room for you to join the team! I know I speak for everyone when I say, we don’t want to lose you again.”

“Yeah! We need you Doc!” Robert added.

Sighing you looked at your shoes sadly, “Guys....”

“No, Y/N. They’re right. We need you here.” Thor added, “I don’t want to lose my little sister again.” His voice broke off with sadness.

“I...I guess I could stay...” You shrugged with a smile on your face.

The team erupted in cheers of excitement.

_______________________________________________________________

Shortly, after Thor, showed you to your chambers. You decided you would deal with the feat of getting your stuff from your apartment in the next few days.

Suddenly, there was a knock on your door. Opening the door you were met with Steve. He was holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Steve?” You asked tilting your head to the side slighty.

Clearing his throat, he started, “Uhm....Y/N...I was wondering...I was wondering if you would go on a date with me? Tomorrow?” He was shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“I would love to!” You exclaimed happily throwing your arms around his neck, catching him off guard with your response.

He instantly wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up while taking a step back twirling you around in his arms.

Laughing, he set you back on your feet. His face was in close proximity to yours. His nose nuzzling yours, his hot breath dancing along your lips.

As the laughter died down, neither of you attempted to extract yourselves from the other. Steve glanced down at your lips before moving back to your eyes. Slightly leaning forward, his lips brushed against yours lightly. Heat rose in your cheeks, while butterflies were erupting your in stomach.

“Get a room!” Tony yelled as he passed by the two of you.

Pulling back slightly, you giggled at Tony’s response.

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lovelessmako · 4 years ago

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This is a demon/exophilia love story I've been working on that I thought I'd share here. If people seem to like it then I'll add more.

Chapter One:

Kivet laughed inwardly as blood and adrenaline rolled off his dark form in waves. The thrill of the chase. Watching a child cling to you, begging you to let them go as the light slowly leaves their eyes. This was what he was created for. He was a peacekeeper between the different species. It was his job to keep the status quo in any way possible. If that meant killing children because a fae dared to have a child with a human, then that was what he had to do. Afterall, mutts were incapable of kindness or love. Sure, they could fake it quite convincingly, even Kivert himself would've fallen for it had he not been taught the truth, but it was impossible for them to experience any pleasant emotions. If Kivet enjoyed his job then that was nobody's business but his own. Everyone needed to stick to their own people. Only the Ve, which he was, could leave their lands.

Sometimes people would send messengers to other species in order to broker peace. Kivet hated those. Scared, unarmed, diplomats with enough medals to make you go blind as they reflected the sun. They didn't deserve those. He always made sure nothing arrived and would leave a bloodied medal behind as a warning. He would keep the others, of course. They were rather good quality and he had quite the collection coming along. He had no idea what they stood for but surely he deserved them more than their original owners.

Kivet set to work wiping his claws off on a rag he kept in his pocket. He frowned slightly when he saw that the blood had reached there as well. So much for clean hands. He gave up and settled for sitting with his back against a tree and admiring his work. Even in their last moments, the two criminals had held each other and tried to shield the child. That's commitment, he'll give them that. Maybe they thought it would gain his sympathy. Dumb. It did make him a bit lonely though. If such scum found someone to play along with their ruse, then why was a hero forced to work alone? He wasn't forced per say, but his old partner had fallen for an orphaned mutt's tricks and had to be put down. It was unfortunate, Suvo was pretty good at his job. He had even told Kivet that what they were doing was wrong! Saving lifes is wrong? What an ass! No, he reminded himself, it was that mutt's fault. Suvo had younger siblings and the creature looked similar to one. Meanwhile, Kivet had never been around children except for when he was in school.

He gathered himself and started in to the nearest town. Kivet could use something to eat, and there were always mutts scatted about to kill. It was disturbing how many there were. Why do people insist on disobeying the natural order of things? The strangest part was how many purebreds supported the movement. The town wasn't too far of a walk, and his shadowy wings were still a bit sore from the long flight over, so he didn't mind walking. The land was nice enough, a dirt path with a small lake to the right and wilting forest to his left. There were some huts in groups of 3 or 4 every now and then; It seems the humans were not advanced enough to feel safe living alone yet. It made sense, they were a very fragile species, very easy to injure; even by accident. They also contracted illnesses often and usually died from them. And, even if they managed to be extremely careful, their lifespan was still very short. Most species told tales of these weak creatures and used them as examples of the good alliances between species would do. They were nothing more than figureheads, however. Something that would be cast aside when no longer needed.

Humans were the worst when it came to mutts. They found fae and elves to be attractive for some reason. He could see it from a procreation standpoint; every parent wants their children to be powerful. But what did the others gain? Maybe humans had special bonding rituals that they preformed in order to create children. That could be interesting. Not that it would ever be possible for a Ve, even if it was allowed. He was reminded of that time and time again as humans ran or hid from him. "Nightmare. Demon. Bad omen. Monster," he had heard it all.

This time, however, the humans seemed to be crowding around a figure on the ground. He hissed loudly, causing them to scatter and leave the body. He crouched nearby, not caring about the pool of blackened blood that was leaking from a bashed in skull. This was a Ve. A wing had been torn off along with their hands, likely for grizzly trophies. Something caught his eye behind their ear. Kivet yanked out the sharp object to see a steady, blinking, red light. A tracker. This wasn't a Ve that had gotten out of line and needed to be put down. They were hunted. He growled and glared around at the humans. No, not one of them. They were much too timid; many crying already. Entire towns had been decimated for less serious offenses.

If someone was hunting Ve then Kivet needed to be safe. While Ve normally had a solid form, they could take on a shadowy apperation that couldn't be harmed. Unfortunately they couldn't harm anyone either. An even trade off. It also took effort. Not a lot, but it would surely add up. He weighed his options. He couldn't eat while in that form so he would have to drop it for those moments. But waiting a few days to eat could help. It would be a lot easier if he had a partner that could help by taking turns keeping watch. But they would just be hit instead. Maybe he could trick a troll into protecting him. They're a good 3-4 feet taller than him and bright blue; an easy target. But that would mean putting up with a troll. And he didn't even speak their language. Not worth it.

"Are you alright, sir?" Kivet jumped, how could he have let a human sneak up on him like that?! They continued, ignoring his suprise, "it's a pretty gruesome sight."

"Don't talk to me." He went ignored.

"Did you know them?"

"Why are you still talking to me?!"

"Its still sad, even if you didn't. I know if I saw a human like that I'd likely take my own life from the trauma."

Why didn't this human-? Wait, they probably couldn't understand him. Humans had a spoken language, not psychic. Kivet remembered studying that back in Academy; they had to choose a language and it seemed the easiest.

"Fine," he choked out, voice scratchy and broken from lack of use. The human apparently took that as emotion and placed their hand on his shoulder. He hissed in warning, but it wasn't removed.

"Why don't you come inside? I'm not sure if you can digest the same things as us, but I made some nice potato soup. Its chilly today as well. I already have a fire going inside."

Why was this human being nice to him? They didn't even know his name. Hell, he didn't even know their gender; humans were difficult to ascertain with their lack of horns or spikes. He considered the offer. On one hand, he had come to the village for food, and while he wasn't affected by the weather, seeing such a mutilated corpse sent shivers down his back. He was reminded of what his father told him when he started school, "Don't trust anyone, regardless of species or blood relation."

"Sounds lonely."

He startled, not realizing that he had spoken it aloud. "Its all I've ever known." Lie. He had traveled with Suvo for 3 years before the incident. "Find me another Ve and I'll consider changing my mind," he tried to joke. It probably sounded too serious in his underused voice.

"You'll be pretty hard-pressed to find another." A tall fae with tanned skin and a whimsical voice pranced over to them, feet light and airy. Humans referred to Fae as the opposite of Ve. Kivet hated them. Even more than mutts.

"Oh, don't give me that look, demon. I come with news." Kivet continued to glare. How dare he speak to him! "The Ve were attacked a few weeks ago. Whole towns wiped out. Only a handful of you guys remain and they're hunting you down." Who? He was too confused to ask. Ve were untouchable. Heroes who used their strength for good. Why would someone attack? How could they lose? "The Golems." The Fae seemed to understand the unspoken question. "They asked the Fae to join them but our queen refused. The last time we angered Ve our capital was destroyed. So much unnecessary death."

"Just tell me what happened already!" Kivet was getting fed up with this stupid voice already.

He shrugged, a human expression, "that's all I know. My guess is a full frontal assault. Ve are good at tactics, but you lack- what was the word? Oh yeah-strength." That was a blow and he knew it. The Ve were all about strength. They were the best when it came to 1-on-1 fights. Then other species had to invent blades and spears. Kivet, like most Ve, refused to use them. They were a crutch. He hated to believe what a fucking Fae was telling him, but it added up. Golems were known to be able to track anything; relentless hunters. Now he knows it was all thanks to tiny machines.

"Serves you right! The Ve should've be wiped out centuries ago." The Fae laughed. Stupid, musical laughter. Kivet couldn't take it! He lunged at the taller man, causing them to fall to the ground. They seemed shocked and caught off guard. Kivet spread his wings threateningly and hissed in his face, taking joy in seeing the spots of saliva that splattered that stupid, perfect face. The human seemed to be saying something, but all Kivet saw was red. His instincts tuned out all other distractions and focused on their prey. He tried to let out a threatening laugh, but it only sounded broken with emotion. "Not strong, huh? Then what does that say about you?"

The Fae relaxed suddenly, much to his confusion. "Hear that? The Golems are coming." And they were. Their heavy footfalls could be heard not too far away. Likely near where Kivet had left the mutt and it's parent's bodies. He acted solely on instinct and shot off flying towards the sound of the noise. He had to see it for himself. His wings burned from the effort, not used to going faster than a leisurely pace. He stumbled in the air when one popped. Likely a sprain or dislocation, not broken. He fought through the pain until he heard the voices nearly under him. He landed on a sturdy tree branch and started to leap his way across to get a better view, yet be less visible. He didn't know much of their language, but he could pick out a few words "Troll. Her. Reward." They weren't tracking a Ve afterall! But who was this Troll? Someone important for the Golems to make a special trip. Maybe a criminal? Didn't matter. They could kill her for all he cared. Wasn't his problem.

Wait, then why was that Fae in a human village if not to warn him? The fucker came up with some random story to district him from his job! A Fae in a human village was very clearly against the rules. He inwardly scolded himself for not realizing earlier. Oh, he was going to pay!

Kivet turned to move, forgetting about his hurt wing, and stumbled slightly. The rustling attracted the attention of one of the Golems. He froze as he was stared directly in the eye. Neither made a move for what felt like forever. Another Golem said something to the one watching him who then turned his attention away. This was the perfect opportunity to run! So why couldn't he move? The one who had spotted him said something about a bird before the group continued on their way. Did a Golem just cover for him!? Wait, why would that be shocking? Ve had important jobs and couldn't afford to be distracted by insignificant creatures. Surely that was public knowledge by now.

He should really go after that one Fae, but right now he was just too tired, rules be damned. He doubted he could sleep with all that had happened in the past few hours. It seemed like weeks had passed since he last awoke. He wrapped himself into a snug position and closed his eyes.

#original story #demon oc #tw death #exophilia #monster #monster boyfriend

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bitchynaruto · 4 years ago

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Missing Scene - The Country Between Us (CH.3)

Embarrassingly I forgot to include this scene in ch. 3 which is actually kinda important to Sasuke’s headspace and his relationship with Suigetsu + coping. ANYWHOM, it’s included now in TCBU but here is a quick link to just read the one-shot instead of rereading the entirety of the chapter again lol.

Anyway this scene takes place after Suigetsu is recruited and right before Karin is recruited into Taka. More under the cut!

Night comes and the terrain grows more dangerous in the cover of darkness. Sasuke agrees with Suigetsu about finding a place to rest, and remembers the location of a nearby town at the midway point between Orochimaru’s hideout and prison.

“Thank fuck I’m giving my back a break from the dirt,” Suigetsu says with a relieved sigh. Stretches his back until it pops before shrugging his shoulders enough to loosen the joints. “You must really be liking me today to rent us a room for tonight, eh, Sasuke?”

Honestly, Sasuke was growing tired of sleeping on the hard ground, but Suigetsu didn’t need to know that.

“We’ll see,” Sasuke replies, the corners of his mouth twitching despite himself. “I can still leave you outside if I feel like it.”

“Cold. Ice cold. I like that in a man.”

Sasuke gives a tch and a roll of his eyes, letting the comment slide off him like water. Whatever energy he has for tolerating Suigetsu’s games is at the lowest threshold, and he doesn’t much feel like indulging them any further tonight.

They make their way into town. It’s out in the open and small, quiet and glowing with lanterns and the insides of homes, lighting up the dirt paths. Noise travels from the center of town, where a few food shops are still open, and people surrounding a bar that also serves as an inn. When they step inside, the place is loud and filled to the brim with people, alcohol staining the air and burning his nose. All of the rooms for the night are taken except one, but there’s only a single bed and a couple cushions to use as a makeshift one. Sasuke takes it anyway.

The woman in charge of the inn takes the money with only a mild look of contempt for the two men standing before her, until she leaves to clean up the room. Suigetsu is already at the bar attempting to order something, only to be slid a cup of water that makes him hang his head in shame even as he takes the drink. A curl of Sasuke’s lips escapes him at the scene before him, amused, until a light of reflecting metal catches his attention.

Across the bar, a man with a Hitai-ate, carved with the symbol of a leaf dead center, hangs his head back and laughs loud and drunk without a care in the world.

Sasuke’s about to flash his Sharingan, fingers twitching to his sword, before he realizes the man is too drunk to notice him. There’s only two other Leaf Shinobi surrounding him, one with his head pressed flat against the table while the other is matching him shot for shot. Only then does he relax his muscles, take a deep breath before making his way towards Suigetsu.

Now tell me, Sasuke, a familiar voice echoes within his mind, I thought I taught you better than this.

The voice has Sasuke stilling, narrowing his eyes. Now that he knows Orochimaru is a figment of his mind, and cannot harm him aside from manipulating memories and visions, he’s no longer caught off guard. Won’t let himself be fearful again. That doesn’t make him unweary, or stupid enough to believe Orochimaru won’t do anything less than cause a scene.

You really think I would allow any harm to fall on my precious vessel? Sasuke-kun, you disappoint me. I pegged you smarter than this.

Taking a deep breath, settling the anger and annoyance burning through him, Sasuke finally asks through gritted teeth, “Get to the point.”

I believe your enemies are vulnerable in front of you as you speak, and yet you’ll let them pass you by without taking an opportunity to better yourself. Shameful.

“If they get in my way, I’ll kill them,” Sasuke points out, knowing Orochimaru can sense the truth in that statement. “Right now, they’re not in my way.”

Don’t be so shortsighted. There is a reason why your paths crossed, and it is ignorant of you to believe otherwise. Knowledge, Sasuke, is power.

As much as Sasuke hates to admit it, the snake has a point. It is strange that Konoha Shinobi would be out so far from the Land of Fire, even though this were in fact a mere pitstop on the way to or from a mission. If there’s more of them near here, Sasuke shouldn’t make light of their increased presence.

Afterall, Sasuke’s a wanted man.

Sasuke makes his way through the crowded bar towards the booths and tables where the men talk amongst themselves. Most of the patrons are drunk, or are older than him, and pay him little mind—in fact, actively ignore his presence. It doesn’t take him long to settle into the table behind the men, back towards them as he focuses out the abstract noise of the other patrons aside from his target.

None of the men notice him either.

“I swear, I can’t wait to get back home,” one of the men drawls out, clearly on the verge of drunkenness. “Nobody makes katsudon like my girl does.”

“Don’t torture your poor lady by coming back home,” the other says through fits of laughter. “She’s probably having the time of her life without your ugly ass there.”

“Oi, fuck you.”

The men at the table burst out into a fit of full-bellied laughter to which Sasuke rolls his eyes at. He should have realized they were too drunk and off-duty to give anything worthwhile for Sasuke to pick up on. Listening to Orochimaru has never yielded in anything positive, and to do so now only proves his point further.

Don’t turn away now.

But Sasuke’s already standing, about to leave the table and go upstairs into bed. No more entertaining Orochimaru’s desires any longer. Sasuke may have to deal with the snake slithering in his thoughts and mind, but that didn’t mean he had to act on them.

Sasuke’s about to head over towards where Suigetsu’s at, until a name has him freezing.

“Danzō’s a little crazy over this Orochimaru business anyway,” the third man says on the quieter side, sounding more sober than the rest. “How long has he been dead for now? What we really should be looking for is that traitor, Sasuke.”

The man spits Sasuke’s name with so much venom and hatred, but it’s only a fraction of what Sasuke feels for them. Cute, in its own way.

“You know our orders,” one of them slurs. “Find the prisoners and rescue them. Strengthen Konoha in our numbers.”

Sasuke’s blood turns to ice at that statement.

“What do you think he’s doing with them all anyway?”

“When’s the last time you’ve been in Konoha? Can’t go anywhere without an ANBU breathing down your neck or walking the streets. Not hard to figure out where they’re all ending up, and then we get stuck on these boring rescue missions. It’s unfair.”

“Shut up,” the more sober one seethes, smacking the other with the palm of his hand. “You’ve got a loose tongue. If we continue to do well, hell, maybe we’ll be assigned to hunt down that bitch Uchiha. Think of how fun that’d be.”

“Finally, it’s time someone put an end to that cursed clan,” says the other. “I’ll give the Hokage that much. Nobody has come close to bettering Konoha this much since the Senjus were in charge.”

The others murmur in agreement, laughing, and Sasuke’s already stomping past the group, fuming. Heartbeat pounding in his ears, the hatred and rage surging through him is all he can feel, all encompassing.

All of them had wanted the Uchihas gone from the start. They didn’t need to know the details, but they had accepted Danzō’s role in the decimation in the clan—had even claimed his decisions made Konoha better, stronger. Sasuke’s read the journal belonging to the second Senju, has read the vile words of hatred without any fancy words hoping to hide away their true intent.

After the massacre, so many of Konoha’s people looked at him with sympathy or pity. Approached him in ways they never had before. Sasuke had thought it came from their inability to understand his situation and trying their best to mask it, to push through it in order to offer their best sympathy to a boy who had lost everything in a single night. He knew the village thought of him as a survivor, a relic of an extinct and powerful clan, a piece in the machine to showcase the village’s strength and superiority to the rest of the world.

Reality crashes into him and shatters the last illusion he had about Konoha. None of them approached him because of the tragedy of what happened, they only approached him because he was nothing to fear on his own. A fledgling Uchiha to control and use for Konoha’s own benefit.

Like Orochimaru had chosen him.

Now you understand why I sought Konoha’s destruction, Orochimaru’s voice slithers through his thoughts, I was made by Konoha. Only I could understand the pervasive nature of its being, and knew to avoid anything worse birthed from that village, it would need to no longer exist.

“Shut up,” Sasuke snaps as he goes up the stairs towards his room. Second on the left if he remembers the innkeeper correctly, but it’s hard to focus with his racing thoughts and Orochimaru’s voice. “Your reason for destroying Konoha has nothing to do with my reasons for my mission. We are nothing alike.”

You may say that now, but Konoha birthed your hatred and anger also. We are cut from the same cloth. Perhaps you believed you could fulfill your mission without me, but you’ll soon realize you still need me, my precious Sasuke.

He shuts his eyes so tight until all he can feel is his pulse pushing against his. The laughter comes back, echoing, and the muscle in his jaw threatens to jump right out.

“Sasuke?” Suigetu’s voice comes through as he steps inside the room. When he opens his eyes, the other has a glass of water in his hands, quirking a single brow at him. “You good?”

The laughter cuts off like a scratch of a record, and Suigetsu’s presence delivers the silence Sasuke had been seeking.

After a moment to revel in the quiet, Sasuke answers, “Fine.”

Suigetsu eyes him a moment before he shrugs, moving to take off his shirt and get into his sleep pants. As always, the other doesn’t care for modesty, and as he’s changing into his sleep pants, says, “I saw you hanging around those Konoha jerks and thought you were getting into trouble.”

“No,” Sasuke replies. “Trouble usually finds me.”

“You can say that again,” Suigetsu says with a feral grin. “Never a dull moment with you around, Sasuke.”

Sasuke eyes him, and the anger and hatred burning through him has smoldered. “Is that why you came with me? For a good time?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the only reason.” That piques Sasuke’s curiosity, gets him to keep listening—the blatant honesty of Suigetsu surprisingly being one of his more endearing traits. “Nobody else has the balls to kill Orochimaru, not even that pesky Hokage of yours could. You woke up one day and figured it was time for that old bitch to die.”

A quiet huff of air leaves past his nose, lips twitching upward momentarily. “It wasn’t as simple as that. I spent a lot of time researching on ways to kill that snake, trained until my body gave out, and waited until he was at his weakest.”

“And modest, too.”

“Not modest,” Sasuke replies. “Just telling you the truth.”

“Either way people tried to kill him, and you were the only one who didn’t fail. Orochimaru tried to make you his bitch, but you came out the other side,” Suigetsu shrugs, turning to Sasuke with a smirk on his face. “ I listen to you and I don’t hear a bullshitter. I hear someone who can get shit done.”

Sasuke stares at Suigetsu, at the way the words fall off his tongue and the heat in the pools of his eyes. The longer he does, the further the grin split across the other’s face continues to grow. Suigetsu steps closer and closer, until he’s standing in Sasuke’s personal bubble.

Funnily enough, Sasuke doesn’t care.

“What?” Suigetsu asks, tilting his head down towards Sasuke. A pleasant warmth spikes in him, electrifying in a way the overwhelming anger from earlier drowned out anything good. “Said too much?”

“No, just enough.”

“Oh?”

“You had a point, before,” comes Sasuke’s words as he undoes the belt holding his white tunic together. Doesn’t break eye contact with the other, not even when Suigetu’s gaze drops to where his hands are pushing the fabric away. “Weeks after we first met.”

“Remind me what point I made, my brain’s forgetful around men who look like you.”

“I was holding back before.” Sasuke chuckles, dark and deep. Hooks his fingers into the waistband of Suigetsu’s pants and pulls him close. From this close, he can see his own reflection in Suigetsu’s dilated pupils, a mirror of his own eyes staring back at him. “Abstaining from what I really wanted for some idea of a nobler cause.”

Maybe he was holding onto an outdated notion of what he must do to make sure the Uchiha were avenged. Taking off the head does nothing if the claws are still attached and the venom still surges throughout the veins within the body.

Konoha created Danzō, Orochimaru, and Itachi. It is not enough to simply take out the leaders when the village itself is the poison.

Which is why the Leaf Village must be destroyed. Only through destruction can the world be purged from its insidious beliefs that plagues not only the Land of Fire, but the entire world. Anyone who stands with Konoha is as guilty as its leaders, and deserves equal punishment for the crime of passivity for believing in the sham that is the Will of Fire.

“Not anymore, though.”

Three words are all the other needs, and Suigetsu is all over him. Hands roaming over him with enthusiasm. When Suigetsu presses his mouth against him, he is reminded that this is his body. His choice.

Everything up to here has been ruled by other’s actions besides his own, but now he’s truly broken free and can see the future with clear eyes.

Sasuke’s mind and body is his own.

No going back to how it was before.

#p #mine #my writing #the country between us #for ref #one day im gonna go back and edit the whole thing ... ONE DAY.. not today tho

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elizabeth-234 · 4 years ago

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Whumptober 2020

Previous prompt and chapter: His Daughter

Hi all. This fills whumptober prompt 24: You're not making any sense and a bit of sensory deprivation thrown in there. This is second chapter of the His Daughter story. Enjoy!

Chapter Two: There’s a Light in the Hallway

The tablet that was too large for her hands lit up Raya’s face. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she tried to read through the words. Peter watched as she talked to Tony. The smile never left her face as the stranger turned acquaintance listened with perfect ease.

“It says here the Fir is a… what’s this word Daddy?”  

“Symbol.”  

“Yeah, it’s truth and forthrightness, which I’m not sure exactly what it means but I think it’s good. And it can mean friendship, Mr. Stark! I think that means we’re going to be friends.” 

She hopped onto her knees bouncing at an alarming rate toward Tony. His eyes widened and Peter fought back a smile. The enthusiasms of youth were quick but substantial. Raya was no exception. Her openness and love never failed to make him proud as not only a dad but a person.

“I, uh, think so too, kiddo.” Raya leaned back and scrunched her nose apparently offended at the moniker.

“You call my Daddy that. I want a different nickname.”  

This time Tony leaned forward with a playful smile. He brought his finger up and tapped his chin in thought. Raya sat up straighter when she noticed him looking toward her.

“Oh, you do, do you? How about snowflake?”  

“NO!”  

“Sugarplum?”

“Ew…” 

“Gumdrop?” 

“No foods!” She burst out giggling complete with hands on knees and tears in her eyes. Like something contagious Tony’s eyes caught the sparkle and gleamed at her laughter.

“How about Ray?” He said after clearing his throat.

Peter looked back down to his phone but waited for an answer without breathing. Raya leaned back into the seat and folded her hands in her lap before watching Tony with a secret deliberation. Her eyes seemed to take in some quality of him and test deep qualification in him, otherwise it was mere whimsy. After a measured moment Raya reached out her hand and waited for them to shake.

“That would be fine.” She said and wouldn’t let go of his hand after they were done. Raya grabbed Tony’s hand more fully in hers and began playing with his palm. Her eyes traveled over the lines and scars on his hand, and her finger took the place soon after.

“It’s the name my mommy called me.” She said in a matter of fact tone. Tony’s mouth opened along with his eyes and he froze. His eyes focused entirely on Raya, how she stared earnest at him and the way her legs swung back and forth. Finally, he swallowed, ran a hand through his hair, and reached some conclusion.

“What was her name?” 

“Hannah.”  

“And are you sure I can call you Ray?”

“I don’t think she would mind. Do you dad?”  

She shrugged as she answered. Peter was surprised to find that hopeful look she would sometimes get when she was wheedling him into doing something. The little twitch in her mouth and the wide-eyed expression were enough to give her away. He responded with a tight grin. If that was what she wanted, it was nothing he would oppose. The decision was surprising is all. Nobody called her Ray since Hannah left. His daughter was nothing but protective over the nickname given to her so it meant something when a shy, smile crossed her face when Tony called her Ray again. He ignored the quick pain in his chest and smiled at them.

Raya’s sniffles erupted into another cough. Her lungs rattled and Tony rushed to grab water for her. She shuddered against an unseen chill and curled into Tony’s side burrowing into the man’s jacket.

“I don’t feel so good.”

Peter no longer pretended not to be watching them. He leaned forward to observe his daughter and cursed the damned fire and everything that could hurt her. The doctor had warned of lingering damage from the smoke. Were these symptoms? Tony raised a hand and pressed it into her forehead once he loosened up at her searching for comfort from him.

“She has a slight fever.” He said before pulling out his phone. “I’ll call Helen and see if she can come tonight.”  

“It’s all my fault she still has a cough. I tried to get us out of there quickly, but it wasn’t fast enough.”

Peter wound his arms around his sides and hunched his back over slightly. Peter had never felt so panicked when they’d been separated at first in the hospital only to feel the strongest rush of relief at seeing her tucked away, too small in the hospital bed. She was so brave in the face of all the tests and doctors. Her smile never dimmed even when she had to have a shot. It was startling to see her smile replaced by a tired frown. Raya shivered and Tony threw a blanket over her.

He reached out toward Peter. His hand hovered above his shoulder and for a moment Peter didn’t care if Tony had left him all those years ago. He needed reassurance and someone to tell him it was all going to be okay. Tony retracted his hand before he touched Peter’s shoulder and instead brushed a hair out of Raya’s face.

“She’ll be okay, Peter. You did a good job.” 

Maybe Peter had some lingering affects himself because he rubbed his chest trying to sooth the tightness there.

He returned to find Tony sitting on the couch facing the window overlooking the city. Peter had tucked Raya into a bed in one of the many spare bedrooms after taking pity on Tony when she fell asleep against his side. He had stood in the hallway gazing into her room, not procrastinating he told himself, until she fell asleep in the large bed. Peter closed the door was quiet as he could and stood at the end of the hall looking down to the living room where Tony was waiting.

They needed to talk. Peter wanted them to but he couldn’t help all the insecurities creeping up. Strange how easy it was to slip back into old mindsets. He’d thought being a dad would shake all those old doubts but they were there, lingering until they were louder than ever. He shivered. The light at the end of the hallway urged him forward. He wanted to get this over with.

Peter sat down at the other end of the couch and tried to admire the view. He was painfully aware of the man how had brushed Raya’s hair out of her face so gently. The silence eclipsed the beauty of the view. It was palpable between them and despite being the used to silence, Peter tore through it. His voice cracked but he turned to face Tony.

“Why did you go?”

Tony was hesitant to break his silence and it took many minutes before he sighed and answered. “I did it for your own good, you know.” His words were quiet and meant kindly, but Peter froze. “I found you on the beach and I thought you were dead, Peter. I thought you were gone. The old heart almost went out at the sight. I was going to continue our internship, the mentorship despite how underprepared I was to take care of a child in any capacity. But it was you, kid, and I wanted to try.”  

“Then why…” He hated how shaky his voice was. He hated the way his heart was pounding. Tony turned to look at him. It was like all the years were laid out between them. Peter could see the struggle and the loneliness Tony faced. Peter’s stomach turned.

“I saw the tape from Toomes’s warehouse. I saw everything and your strength. Your strength it scared me… because…”

He was back in the warehouse. Cement walls were falling. The ceiling caved in and he pinned under a mountain of rock. Water trickled down the stones and dripped onto the back of his head. He tried to move but was met with pain at each twitch. Everything pressed down on him. All the disappointment and anger and loss. All he could do was scream against the blood and tears obstructing his vision. He closed his eyes and yelled as loud as he could until his throat was hoarse. His hearing was the only thing left. Its enhanced capabilities completed his cage. He could hear every falling pebble or drip of water. The racing of his heart was so loud it raged in his mind. Peter could hear it all speeding toward him unable to stop; unable to do anything but listen from his confines. He was alone. He was always alone. Peter cried and cried for someone to find him but there was no one. It was up to him to save himself.

“Stop!” Peter stood up, hands clenched. He tried to shake the remaining dregs of the memory away but they lingered against his skin and in the sour taste in the back of his mouth.

Tony didn’t get to be afraid of Peter. Not after everything. Was that really the answer? It was Peter who was to blame after all. He should feel proud, he supposed. Peter had succeeded where no one else seemed to before; scaring the great Tony Stark. He almost wanted to laugh, but it all made sense. The way Tony wouldn’t make eye contact with or the way he wouldn’t hug Peter. He could see now he repulsed the man. What he didn’t expect was the sharp pain in his chest that came with the realization. He jumped up and balled his fists together.

“Oh, I get it now and like some unwanted thing off the street you tossed me back, is that all it was? All I was? Something to waste your time with?”

“You’re not making any sense.” Tony said standing up too.

“No, you’re not speaking a damn bit of the truth. Just say it was all for you. Don’t act all high and mighty and say it was for my own good. Don’t lie anymore.”  

“Peter, you misunderstood me.” He came to stand beside Peter but Peter brushed off his hand. “I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared for you. When I saw you stuck under there, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think of anything but how I failed you. But then you lifted it. You saved yourself and I knew then I could never be strong enough for you. I knew I would end up disappointing you like that day after the ferry. So, you’re right, in a way, what I did was for my own sake. I wanted to save myself the embarrassment and hurt when you realized what kind of person I was.”

“I-”  

“Daddy?” Raya popped her head around the corner and rubbed her eye to get rid of the sleep. “I heard shouting. Are you yelling at Mr. Stark?” 

Peter walked forward, ready to be away from these realizations and the burning in his chest. He scooped up Raya into his arms. Her warm weight reassured him; grounded him to her and he could breathe freely.

“No sweetheart. We were just discussing some things.”

He walked down the hall and didn’t look back. Raya struggled in his arms and looked back at the living room they were walking away from.

“Mom always said it was bad to yell. She said nothing ever got done that way.” He tucked her in and bopped her on the nose.

“Your mom was right, Raya. But I’ll tell you a secret. Sometimes a good yell makes you feel better after.” Her eyes widened at the thought. “Don’t try it now but sometime you can try it.”  

She yawned and Peter placed a kiss on her forehead. He would go back to his room and stay there while he thought and cooled down. He nodded and closed the door with one last look at his daughter sleeping already.

He turned to the hallway and the man was there. The light from the living room shine down the dark hall but was short of reaching their figures. It wasn’t as cold as before and as it so often does; the darkness loosened their tongues. It allowed for an opening of raw feelings.

“Peter, I know nothing I can say will change anything but I’m sorry for being everything I hoped I wouldn’t.”

The words weren’t everything. They wouldn’t make up for what happened but it was a start. Tony pulled Peter into a hug. It was years late but the embrace was warm and Peter couldn’t stop the tears from gathering in his eyes.

People were so blinded to themselves. Peter hadn’t known he had the strength to escape out of the collapsed building. Tony thought he didn’t have the strength to accept and give enough love to those he cared about. But there in that dark hallway, Peter realized the truth. He had seen the way Tony held his daughter and now, feeling the arms around him, he could feel a strength there waiting to be unleashed.

Thank you!

Chapter title from the Pentatonix song!

Next prompt: The Creature from the Blue Lagoon

#whumptober2020 #whumptober 2020 #no. 24 #You're not making any sense #sensory deprivation #arguements #arguing #spiderman #Spider man #Tony Stark #fic #fan fic #ao3 #Peter Parker fanfic #irondad #spiderson #dad peter parker #peter is a dad #oc

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fanficsforpogchamps · 4 years ago

Note

The SDC bois with a reader who tries to bite at them whenever they get too close for their comfort, not caring if the have a so called 'stand'

Headcanon! Touchy-Feely

Warnings: None except a few naughty words 👀 enjoy!

My Jotakak fanfic is coming soon, but keep the requests coming lovely! I’d enjoy writing your scenarios and Headcanons for every good boi out there!

(I hope this is okay! I’ve done both emotionally and physically, like actually physically biting them lmao. It was fun, so Thank you for the first request :)) )

Jotaro Kujo-

;This man is not exactly emotion material, he doesn’t understand them at the best of times, so when he sees you being recluse and lugging behind the group, he shrugs and carries on his merry way.

; he learnt from his old man that you were their translater, but had acquired no stand- and so when you first snap at him using your teeth when he brushed against your arm in a crowded market Star Platinum shot out immediately, expecting a fight. But when no Stand appeared, the larger, more colourful Jotaro was ever so confused.

; your teeth were firmly locked into his fingers as they had been wiping some sweat from your forehead. The beads were trickling down and it bothered the hell out of him, and it was only when you let go did he see that you made a sizeable mark on his middle and fore finger.

; “you annoying bitch,” Jotaro had growled, itching at the marks left by your teeth, and you slinked away back to Avdols shadow where you resided for the rest of the trip... until they tried to get you to stay behind when they found DIOs mansion.

; “you don’t have the powers we do, you need to stay behind and live, if not for us,” Avdol tried reasoning, but your stubbornness is why earned you your title as a Stardust Crusader. But when the man, the myth, the legend, Jotaro Kujo has started to approach you, there was an internal battle. Even after a few feet he was already waaaay beyond your comfort zone. “Do as they say, and just stay behind. DIO will most likely kill you if you go in without our powers,”

; die? You will? You had bared your teeth at him before spitting out a harsh “fine,” and turned away from the group. “I know I don’t have a Stand... whatever they are. But you all better come back to me alive,”

Kakyoin Noriaki-

; Kakyoin was a very naturally comfortable person to be around, I mean hell, even Jotaro was happy when he had returned from hospital (but that’s further on-)

So when your teeth managed to snag at Kakyoins expensive school jacket on the Strength boat, he was a little more than surprised to say the least.

; he physically recoiled, before shaking his head and gently prying off your teeth. “Now now (Y/N),” he chuckled nervously, before managing to get the fabric from your teeth without damaging it. “No need to act like a dog now do we?”

;you had nearly died in that damned boat and was now out at sea again, having to deal with the infuriating closeness of everyone- but it seemed there was already a gap between both your sides as they all favoured to huddle further up the raft.

; “we don’t want your teeth in our clothes! I paid a lot for these!” Joseph cried out accusingly, finger shoved in your face to signify that there was distrust with you. That... hurt. Despite your emotional turmoil previously with them it still hurt when the man jabbed a finger your way. “Shut the fuck up old man before I shove your head under the water,” you snapped, arms crossed over your chest.

; That seemed to have shut Joseph up, as he cowered away, before Kakyoin started laughing. That was amazing! He knew there was something special about you. “Ahhh don’t mind him (Y/N), he gets paranoid,” Noriaki tired to inform you, managing to brighten up the mood from the older Joestar bringing it down a notch. “He needs to watch where he’s pointing that finger, or he will have to add another mechanical limb to the list,”

; it made Kakyoin smile, seeing as you full well meant every word you spoke and clearly Joseph was using your temper against you. Kakyoin shifted in his seat before sliding across to sit closer to you, and nudging your shoulder with his own.

; too close too close too close- is all you thought of as The red headed Japanese school student slid closer and closer to you. Despite the size of the raft you had been comfortable with no one being near you, but now that he was closer you felt your heart stop.

;”Don’t take no offence. He’ll learn his lesson soon enough,”

Jean-Pierre Polnareff-

;when you had stepped off the plane with Iggy, the man thought you was the most gorgeous thing in the world, so when his flirtatious advances caused him to nearly jump out of the desert buggy- he was shocked.

; The Frenchman swore out in french, gesturing vividly for dear life as he had come to realise maybe.. maybe you weren’t as nice as you were portrayed to be? Maybe he should stay away?

; Blast it all to hell! Polnareff thought as he continued to fling flirty-esq comments your way. The travel was hot, and on you lap was Iggy- the animal which had processed to rip out a lot of his silver locks which were gorgeously prepared this morning. He scowled, before turning up his nose and giving up for a while.

; if it hadn’t been for you baring your teeth and snapping the words “dirty bastard” at him, he wouldn’t have stopped the flirting behaviour, but something about the way you flared up at him made him believe you were a full blown Stand user. Because god knows that only stand users would be that aggressive.

;but when he found out you was just another normal person; unable to grasp the thoughts or view his glorious Silver Chariot his heart sunk. So you was just another heartless tease then. He nearly cried at the idea of someone as beautiful as you being a dastardly tease, set to destroy him.

;The buggy had been overturned, and Polnareff was clutching Kakyoins body. You had reluctantly hopped on top of the car as well, your body pressed against Jeans because of N’Doul. You could see the mental struggle in his eyes. He didn’t want to get too close to you- yet he needed to keep Kakyoin safe. So you opted to helping him, fingers wrapping around the uniform of your cherry loving friend and dragging him just a bit higher up the buggy.

;”I may not have a stand to help,” you choked out, struggling slightly. “And I may not be able to see yours- but I’m going to help right now,”

;from then Polnareff could see you was a determined person, and while you possessed no stand it drove you to help more. You would be useless in the eyes of anyone else- but Jean-Pierre Polnareff could see your worth from the moment you thought of helping them.

Joseph Joestar-

;Joseph knew you weren’t a Stand user from the start, as you hadn’t been able to see Purple Hermit when you met him. You were a translator, and as much as Joseph loved visiting Japan- it hurt him when he tried to order in English and no one could understand him, which is why you were with him.

; you used to be such a good kid, so social and friendly- yet when he met you again it was hard to believe you were the same person. You were snappy and seemingly always grumpy, ready to bite someone’s head off if they spoke wrongly. You nearly gave someone a heart attack at a store because they bumped into you, and the look from your eye caused them to sweat profusely.

; When you met Holly however, your sour mood disappeared almost completely and underneath emerged the soft child you once was, a small smile on your face as you chatted with his daughter.

;He knew holly had that affect on people but on you? He was sure it wouldn’t work yet here you were, small Japanese tea cup in your grasp and a soft laughter to your words.

;The only way he knew you was real was when you were alone with him again, and he decided to open his big mouth and ask about why you was so nice to Holly- when your teeth suddenly bit down on his metal hand which had been waved too close to your face.

;his signature ‘OHHH MY GOOOUDDDD!’ Was raised from his voice as he viewed the missing fingers off his metallic hand. “Don’t be so loud asshole, Kakyoin is still asleep,” you had snapped, before dropping the fingers in his lap and sighing.

; the one time you showed any sort of love or kindness towards him was... well... the airport. Your entire journey led up to this moment, the three people you stood besides were sobbing, and there was a small tear that slipped across your cheek- a moment of weakness that Joseph caught as you all recognised the harrowing details of your journey... it was over-

; “I miss their faces,” you admitted to him, one hand over his metal one for some sort of comfort as you both rested in your plane seats. You felt his thumb graze your knuckles as he held your hand close. You knew he had lost Ceaser, Speedwagon, Lisa Lisa, Erina... and now Avdol and Kakyoin. It must be hard, and you felt sympathy for him, yet never disclosed this to him.

; “I know, so do I,”

Muhammad Avdol-

;his first snippet of your uncomfortable boundaries was when he first met you with Joseph Joestar, watching as you managed to snag the coat arm of the elder JoJo as the coat had smacked your nose softly as his arm raised in greetings.

;He knew from then on to avoid you, or just not to get beyond your boundaries. He was not exactly going to bother you if everyone wanted the best trip. He smiled back at you occasionally to allow you the knowledge that he was there and would respect you.

;you had only snapped at him once, but he expected it. His body appeared to move in front of you at a ghostly pace, almost as if arisen from the dead.

; you had weeped over his body, mourned and sobbed despite your harsh exterior. The tears nearly flooded from your eyes at his sudden appearance, but the anger boiled and bubbled over that sadness you felt.

;”So is there just s reason why I was not told?” You inquired, body remaining frozen as your shoes firmly remained placed in the sand of the beach. “Don’t give me the BULLSHIT you told Polnareff,” there was the snap that made Avdol twitch alway. “Let’s get this DIO shit over with so I can formally beat you all,” your teeth bared at them, before you composed the calm exterior you once had and made your way to the submarine.

;Avdol knew you meant well, the shock must have been fully graced if you admitted to pouring the contents of your heart out when his body had just been moved to an infirmary. A small smile crossed his lips as you passed him, head set forward and confidence leaking from your body as if you had a new ideal.

;”I’ll hold you too that (Y/N),” he smiled, hands now slipping into his sleeves as he followed your path with the rest of the Crusaders.

#noriaki kakyoin #jotaro #jojo shitpost #jojo part 3 #joseph joestar #jp polnareff #oof bois #reader insert #avdol #anime #jojos bizzare adventure #jojo kakyoin #fanfiction #headcanons #jojo headcanons

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