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draumstafir-blog · 2 years ago

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litg s2 | saying nope | chapter 1

pairing: mc x noah

a/n: i gained a new hyperfixation which is love island the game!! imo, the game is very pg - seemingly written for younger teens - so i will be taking a crack at writing something more realistic(?) but only from the perspective of the show. so like the game, we won’t see anything about what the characters do in their outside lives.. i’ve never read fanfic about this game before; i don’t even know if people write any but.. this is my best attempt!!

you always had this attitude about life; that maybe if you treated everything like an experiment, approached everything with an angle, then maybe it would be funny to just observe as an outsider. for a long time, that’s what you were. but suddenly, that comforting level of detachment was about to disappear. since a friend dared you to audition for love island, and you did so just to see what would happen, but it seemed that the unimaginable is what happened. because you were somehow selected to compete in the show - as one of the original cast members, no less.

you worried about how you would be perceived; how the show would affect your reputation. but none of those worries paled in comparison to the prospect of winning £50,000. more accurately, £25,000, you told yourself. since no one ever seems to take the entire prize for themselves. but, since they let someone like you in this year, you reasoned that perhaps anything would be possible.

you kept that faint optimism in your metaphorical back pocket, as the first day of filming finally rolled around, and you found yourself strutting into the luxurious villa in your favorite little bikini. trying to look nonchalant, you looked down at the ground, catching a glimpse of your fresh pedicure in your beachy cork wedges. though, your aura of aloofness faded as you stepped inside, stopping at the first mirror you saw to fix your hair.

standing by the entrance to the living room, you heard a car engine approach, and shortly afterwards a slender girl sporting box braids and a vibrant bikini got out to greet you.

she seemed confident yet reserved, though you both squealed in excitement as you laid eyes on each other.

hope: hey! it’s so great to meet you! i’m hope.

her skin was deep with cool undertones that perfectly complemented her canary yellow eyeshadow. her arms were toned as she opened them to give you a hug.

you: i’m (Y/N). isn’t it crazy we’re the first ones here?

hope: babe, i almost fell flat on my face getting out of the jeep, i couldn’t contain myself.

you: hopefully later tonight we’ll be flat on our backs!

you and hope both erupted in laughs, though you silently cursed yourself for opening with such a crass joke. it would definitely become a meme, at least in your hometown.

you: so hope, what do you do?

hope: oh i’m a sales rep for mattel. my job is mostly just asking stores to carry our products, but it’s quite easy, not gonna lie. who doesn’t love barbie?

you: oh my god, that sounds like a dream.

hope: it is, to be fair. but i’ve become quite the workaholic, it’s kinda interfering with my love life, which is why i need something like this!

the clack of heels against the marble floor interrupted your conversation. turning to the door, you were greeted by a tall, pale figure with flowing pastel purple hair.

lottie: hey girls! i’m lottie, nice to meet you both.

you were immediately intrigued by her australian accent. most of her body was covered in tattoos and she wore a black strappy bikini, her side shave becoming noticeable when she turned towards hope.

hope: glad to have another girl here! i’m hope and this is (Y/N).

she reached out and gave your arm a friendly squeeze while she spoke. lottie was also quite outgoing and animated as she talked.

lottie: this villa is huge! i’m buzzing!

hope: yes! i’m well excited to go see the rest of it.

lottie: so, you girls looking for love or just a bit of fun?

you: well i’m definitely open to both. i’m kinda just seeing how this plays out.

lottie: ooh that’s such a good attitude. i came here with love in mind, but now i’m just looking forward to a summer full of making new friends!

hope: (Y/N), what was your love life on the outside like? any particular reason you auditioned?

you: kinda like you said before, romance just wasn’t on my front burner and things never really got serious with anyone.

lottie: yeah, all my ex’s were tools. the villa is gonna be such a breath of fresh air!

just as lottie finished, another girl walked through the front door. she was fair-skinned, with a long ginger braid and side-swept bangs. she donned a pink lacey bikini with accents of silver jewelry.

hannah: hello my loves, i’m hannah!

lottie: hey girl! hope, (Y/N), and i were just talking about men.

hannah: oh my gosh, what are your types?

hope: i like someone tall, dark, and handsome. can’t go wrong with that combo.

lottie: i totally get that. but in oz, everyone drools over the tanned surfer type, not my style though. i’m all about nice eyes. they’re the windows to the soul!

you: i don’t really have a type on paper. if he’s got a nice personality and the chat flows, i’ll give him a shot.

hannah: oh, i totally relate. personality is everything for me. i’m quite the old soul so i need a prince to sweep me off my feet!

you instinctively raised your eyebrows.

you: i don’t think love island is gonna be the fairy tale you’re looking for, hun. it’s a competition after all.

lottie let out a frustrated sigh.

lottie: it’s technically a competition but the friendships we make here are gonna last forever!

another set of footsteps opens the door with a creak and approaches the conversation. the group of you were suddenly met with a golden-skinned, curvy figure slightly shorter than you, although her heels were quite tall. her long, straight hair was bleached at the bottom for a macchiato-esque ombre look. she was wearing black thick-rimmed glasses with a white bikini.

marisol: hi all! i’m marisol.

hope: hey babes! i’m hope. this is lottie, hannah, and (Y/N).

marisol: you’re all so gorgeous! this is gonna be quite the summer.

lottie: i’ll say! now that the 5 of us are a happy family, we should think about putting the girls first. we should be a team!

you: i don’t know, we have to look out for ourselves too.

marisol: i agree! forming alliances is a sure-fire way to start drama.

lottie: we can talk more about it after we all couple up, but friendships are really important to me. it’d be nice to know we all have each other’s backs.

hope: speaking of coupling up, what are you lot most looking forward to?

marisol: well, it’d be nice to have my morning coffee delivered right to my bed.

the conversation paused as all of you collectively giggled. though, the nice moment was interrupted with the loud ding of a cellphone, which each of you were instructed to keep on the highest volume despite its headache-inducing noises. as lottie checked her phone, you saw her eyes immediately light up.

lottie: yes! i can’t believe i get to say it first!

she cleared her throat.

lottie: I GOT A TEXT!!

hannah, who was standing directly to lottie’s side, covered her ears and furrowed her brows.

hannah: we’re all in the same room, lottie.

lottie blushed sheepishly.

lottie: sorry babes, couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

islanders -

welcome to paradise! surely you know the way this game works. each of the girls will go out to the back lawn one-by-one where the boys are waiting! you may ask whoever fancies you to step forward, but you are free to choose whichever hunk your heart desires! crack on!

hannah: oh my goodness gracious, i wonder which one of us will get to go first!

right on cue, your phone sounded off in your hand. your fingers moving at lightspeed to enter the passcode, you eagerly managed to open the message.

(Y/N) -

you’re up first! go to the back garden and meet the boys!

you: looks like i gotta go.

hope: good luck, babe!

you waved to the girls amongst their choir of encouraging murmurs, turning and leaving through the open door to the backyard. there on the grass, 5 of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid eyes on were waiting in a line.

you: hi~

you waved to them whilst trying not to break your angles walking down the stairs. you were worried about coming off as too eager, so you refrained from being too flirty right off the bat. but as you stood in front of them, you quickly melted into a puddle of pink blush and tried not to look any of them in the eye.

trying to regain composure, you decided that speaking to them individually might help you decide.

you: alright, contestant #1, what’s your name?

perhaps you seemed confident, but you were internally quaking, hoping that being playful was the best approach.

the man standing before you loomed about a full foot over your head. his build was wide, his shoulders strong, and his ab muscles had just enough definition to constitute a 6-pack. his hair was bleached light blond, though his eyebrows and stubble were dark brown. he spoke quickly and assuredly.

gary: i’m gary, you alright?

you were undoubtedly charmed by his rugged, sort of “blue-collar man” demeanor. your lips formed a grin as you instinctively looked away from his face, when you noticed a tattoo on his pale-skinned arm that looked like some kind of architectural drawing.

you: nice to meet you, gary.

you still weren’t sure about any of the boys and quickly moved on, so as not to linger too long.

the next boy you encountered was even taller, with dark brown hair in an undercut, slightly lifted off of his face. his arms and legs were long and his muscles were incredibly toned, his face clean shaven with youthful eyesmile. as soon as you made eye contact, the corner of his mouth raised up into a cheeky yet genuine grin. his complexion was deeply tan as he seemed to fit the description “tall, dark, and handsome” to a tee.

you: hi.

you found yourself too stunned to make a joke as you simply stood before him, taking in his handsome features.

noah: hi. i’m noah.

his speech was short and sweet, so you figured trying to strike up a conversation might be a mistake. instead you sent him a shy smile, moving to the next boy in line, but never forgetting about noah.

rocco: how do you do?

the next boy in line reached out and grabbed your hand before you could get a good look at him. his face and torso were quite freckly, a slight tuft of reddish-brown hair on his pecs which matched the chin-length, curly hair on his head. his facial features were very defined and his jawline was covered in stubble. he donned several wooden beaded necklaces which gave him a distinct, hippie-ish look. right under his clavicle, he also had a tattoo of a chinese character, which forced you to do a double take as you recognized it as meaning “soup”.

he slowly kissed the back of your hand.

rocco: the name’s rocco.

you: charmed.

though you were genuinely intrigued, rocco had come off a little strong, and you decided to move on quickly.

you: what’s your name, babe?

the next boy in line was also quite tall, dark, and handsome. his skintone was deep and his muscles were perhaps the most toned of all the boys. his physique resembled a model or a comicbook character, almost too perfect to be believed. his hair was in cornrows and his eyes were big and sincere as he spoke.

ibrahim: i’m ibrahim, chuffed to meet you.

you: and i, you.

the next boy in line was a bit of an outlier. he was slim, still quite strong looking, but not to the extent that he’d be living at the gym. his hair was styled into short dreads and his face was somewhat heart-shaped, his cheeks freckly and round, giving him a youthful appearance. his complexion was medium-dark with neutral undertones, making his golden brown eyes pop.

bobby: looks like they saved the best for last. i’m like the dessert of this beefcake buffet.

you were taken aback by his brazen jokes, instinctively laughing. you quickly raised your right hand to cover your smile, so as to not breathe right into his face.

bobby: aw love, don’t cover your smile! i’ll have you laughing all the way to the bedroom.

gary: and in it.

the rest of the boys also erupted in laughter.

bobby: i’m bobby by the way.

as soon as you settled down he looked you right in the eye; a somewhat tender moment despite only knowing him for such a short while.

taking a step back, your mind was already somewhat made up, though you wanted to take an extra step to aid your decision.

you: ok boys, will anyone who fancies me please step forward?

you almost couldn’t bear to look, your heart was beating like a hummingbird’s wings. but to your surprise, one-by-one each of the boys began stepping forward - each of them except the boy you wanted.

a nagging voice in the back of your mind told you to just hurry up and make a choice, though you stood still, your eyebrows furrowing as you studied the scene in front of you. noah was still standing in the same spot.

snapping out of it, you put on your most official-sounding voice to announce your decision.

you: i think i’d like to couple up with... noah.

puzzlingly, noah’s face lit up when you said his name. you thought he’d be annoyed but as you took your place next to him, he looked to you affectionately, his eyes forming crescents as he smiled.

the rest of the boys returned to their original places and there was a moment of downtime before the next girl would come out from the house.

noah leaned in and spoke to you in a hushed voice.

noah: thanks for choosing me. i think i would’ve stepped forward but i was a bit shy.

you: you think?

you mimicked his volume, trying not to sound needy or condescending as you turned to face him. although you were a bit startled to find his face so close to your own, you didn’t mind it, since his energy was so calming.

noah: do you ever feel like your emotions have a mind of their own? and you’re just waiting for them to take over and guide your body? that’s what was going through my mind. but you’re honestly stunning, so i’m glad it worked out.

you: i am too.

the both of you stood for a moment, just exchanging giddy smiles, when suddenly the sound of heels on cement caught everyone’s attention. lottie was up next to choose.

lottie: wow, i’m really spoiled for choice.

she went down the line, eyeing each boy up and down but only stopping to speak to gary.

lottie: nice tattoo, hun.

gary: right back atcha.

she studied him some more through hooded, sultry eyelids. her winged black eyeliner suddenly stood out from her dark violet eyeshadow in the sunlight.

lottie: alright well if anyone likes the look of me, step forward.

only rocco stepped forward.

lottie: well i suppose 1 is better than none. i wouldn’t have appreciated you stepping forward.

she gestured to noah.

lottie: i’m a gal’s gal, even if (Y/N) isn’t.

returning her attention to rocco, she glanced him over one more time, before shrugging slightly.

lottie: i’d be well excited to get to know you. what’s your name, babe?

rocco: it’s rocco, nice to meet you.

he gave her a friendly yet lingering hug as they fell in line beside you. after another few moments, marisol approached. she walked over silently, taking her time to look over each of the boys intently.

marisol: hmm, my pride as psych student might be getting the better of me, but i just need a sec to suss everyone out.

she moved up and down the line once more, starting to rub her chin, when she suddenly stopped at ibrahim.

marisol: what’s your name, gorgeous?

ibrahim: it’s ibrahim, but my friends call me rahim.

marisol: well, from my observation, you seem like quite the bright personality inside a little shell. i could use a bit of brightness in my life.

ibrahim: i’ll gladly oblige.

marisol: well then i hope you don’t mind if i pick you. may i call you rahim?

ibrahim: nothing would make me happier.

as marisol stood in line next to ibrahim, they seemed quite pleased with each other. marisol always carried herself with a certain poise - a kind of “smart person aura” that doctors always seem to have. perhaps she was a great psychologist in the making.

just then, hannah came out from the house. she walked with a peppy stride that made it seem almost as if she was skipping.

hannah: oh my gosh, all you boys are drop-dead gorgeous!

she walked up to gary, whose light blue-grey eyes she seemed to be studying quite intensely.

hannah: what’s your name?

gary: it’s gary.

he jokingly and extravagantly got down on one knee and kissed the back of her hand.

gary: but you can call me mr. right.

you and the other girls shared a knowing look, as hannah’s brown doe eyes widened even further and her face was consumed by a deep red flush.

hannah: i think i will!

she curtsied her imaginary dress and linked arms with gary, standing beside him in line. the last girl to choose was hope and after a brief pause, she sauntered out of the villa.

hope: now, i may be choosing last but i will not be stuck with leftovers!

she glances around at each of the boys before honing in on noah.

hope: what’s your name, dear?

noah: i’m noah.

hope: well, noah, you look like the strong, silent type. and i need a man who’s strong enough to handle my fire.

she turned to you with a sympathetic look.

hope: sorry babes, i gotta go with my gut.

you tried to respond with something reassuring but the words were too quiet to even leave your lips. you gave hope and noah the space to hug and greet each other, migrating away from the lineup and spotting bobby by himself.

bobby: i guess we’re in the lonely hearts club together. but don’t worry, we don’t have to be leftovers.

you let out a breathy chuckle, as he was clearly hung up on hope’s choice of wording, but perhaps too easygoing to let it fester for too long.

bobby: i’m really glad we ended up together.

as the coupling up was finally over, the couples began chatting amongst themselves as the group of you awaited further direction. when bobby spoke directly to you in his softer, more comforting tone, he almost seemed like a different person. you appreciated this very personable side to him.

you: i’m glad we’re together too. i think it’ll be fun getting to know each other.

as a phone sounded off in the background, your sentence trailed off but bobby’s sweetly reassuring smile lingered while gary read out a text.

now that the first coupling is complete, you will all have a few moments to start getting to know each other, before our first challenge: truth or dare!

bobby was quick to make use of the opportunity.

bobby: wanna go chat on the sun loungers?

you nodded silently as he led the both of you there.

bobby: ok i just need to get one question out of the way.

he sat down with a little grunt and you sat opposite him. his shorts looked more like purple basketball shorts than swim trunks, perhaps meaning he wasn’t totally confident in his beach body.

bobby: am i your usual type?

his expression was expectant yet earnest as he put his forearms on his knees and tapped the tips of his fingers against each other. you found it cute how anxious he was, like he was putting his all into impressing you.

you: i don’t think i have a type. i’m all about personality, so you’ve got nothing to worry about in that department.

you saw his cheeks turn pink for a split second before he hung his head and chuckled, prompting you to pile on more compliments.

you: and you’re a right sort so... why wouldn’t you be my type?

bobby: i could list off all the reasons but i’d rather not blow my chances with you right away.

you found yourself giggling and instinctively covered your mouth again, as was an on-and-off habit of yours.

bobby: i’m gonna get you to show me that beautiful smile eventually. partly because i need to check that you actually are laughing at my jokes.

you used your left hand to grab your right wrist and pull it down from your face.

you: sorry, sorry. it’s a habit. but to be fair, you’re proper hilarious, i don’t think you’re in any danger.

he scratched the back of his neck gingerly.

bobby: thanks. you’re too kind. is there anything you wanna know about me?

you: hmm... what’s your usual type?

bobby: well, more or less i like dark hair, but it’s not super important. mainly i just want a girl who likes getting dolled up and going on nights out, but is also down-to-earth and can laugh at dumb jokes with me. i like when someone naturally turns heads and can handle being the center of attention, but doesn’t seek it out.

nodding your head slowly, you realized that bits and pieces of his description seemed to fit you, but when combined it didn’t sound terribly like you at all. you stared into the distance as your brain tried to process what this would mean for your relationship, but quickly snapped out of it when bobby’s cheerful voice spoke again.

bobby: anything else?

you: weirdest place you’ve ever had sex?

bobby: the moon.

you raised an eyebrow at him.

bobby: kinda. i once dated this girl who worked at a museum and they had a little exhibit that looked like the surface of the moon. it was closed off one day so... what else were we supposed to do?

hope: I GOT A TEXT

the couples were scattered around the back garden, but all eyes were instantly on hope, who sat with noah on the bean bags.

everyone please gather at the fire pit for truth or dare! you will all get to know VERY well in this series’s first challenge!

through background chatter and a few stray laughs, you turned back to bobby, about to suggest you both go follow the others.

bobby: erm... before we catch up to them, i just wanna say i genuinely am so pleased to be coupled up with you. i know it’s still very early days but i’m gonna give us a shot.

your lips curled into a smile as you tucked your hair behind your ear.

you: i will too.

your cheeks became slightly sore as the two of you got up and strolled to the fire pit, the grin never falling off your face.

rocco: check it out!

as the group began sitting down, rocco spotted a pile of laminated cards right in front of the bonfire, which lay dormant in the daylight.

hannah: I GOT A TEXT

islanders, hope you’re ready to turn up the heat in truth or dare! today’s challenge is for getting to know each other and not for a prize, though you can look forward to some of those very soon!

hope: i’ll go first!

she scurried over to rocco and grabbed the pile out of his hands. lottie, who was sitting directly next to you, leaned over and murmured in your ear with a sarcastic tone.

lottie: very assertive of her to take charge like that.

you: i guess someone had to go first.

hope took a moment, sifting through the cards which were labeled with either “truth” or “dare”. she gave the rest of the stack back to rocco after she seemingly found one she was happy with.

hope: i chose dare so... the card says i have to put someone’s toes in my mouth for 10 seconds.

the group reacted with a mixture of giggles and groans of disgust.

bobby: alright then, which lucky fella’s getting the pedicure today?

hope faintly licked her lips while pretending to think over her choice, before turning to noah who sat beside her.

hope: i choose noah!

he let out a lighthearted chuckle, clearly somewhat grossed out by the prospect, but still a good sport about it. he slipped off one of his adidas slides and quickly tried to dust off the sole of his foot.

hope: ready, babe?

noah: if you are...

everyone huddled around the couple, counting down in unison as bobby cackled uncontrollably and noah occasionally winced.

hannah: i know liking foot stuff is pretty common now, but toes specifically just freak me out! from certain angles they look like worms!

bobby: if you want, i can ask if we’re allowed to reuse cards.

hannah squealed and squirmed in her seat as the rest of the group - mainly the boys - laughed. gary looked particularly keen to watch hannah get teased for being so squeamish.

hope: (Y/N), you seemed up for a laugh when we were chatting earlier, why don’t you pick someone to go next?

you: alright then, how about noah?

hope fumbled with her words for a few seconds before getting out her reply, although never breaking her confident exterior.

hope: noah just had plenty of excitement, hun. how about another couple get in on the action? bobby?

bobby looked to noah for confirmation, which he gave with the simple shrug of his shoulders. bobby then hopped out of his seat to receive a card from rocco, who you realized had never reshuffled the pile after hope looked through them.

rocco: truth or dare, mate?

bobby: though i am quite truthful, today i’m feeling more daring.

rocco grabbed a card from the top of the pile and read it out.

rocco: snog the islander you fancy the most!

bobby silently giggled and shook his head in playful disbelief. he didn’t linger on the thought too long before confidently approaching you. he sat next to you, placing a hand gently on your knee, which was pointed toward him as your legs were crossed.

bobby: this is my way of shooting my shot...

you: guess you really are daring then.

he took the teasing banter as his cue, leaning in while you did the same. his grip on your knee grew a bit tighter, and suddenly his hand was wandering up your thigh as your lips finally touched. there was an unmistakable spark when the two of you collided. bobby leaned into you more, growing bolder with his movements as his mouth opened slightly, and yours followed suit. though, as it was only your first kiss, it didn’t need to go on any longer since you were worried about things getting sloppy.

you cupped his jawline with your dominant hand and pulled away from him slowly, only just realizing that the rest of the group were cheering like drunken university students. your thumb stroked his chin, taking a moment to send him an affirming look; almost to say that you liked the kiss and were pleased that he chose you, though you may have gotten lost in his eyes for a split second afterwards.

lottie: good to see you two are already getting on!

her voice pierced through your giddy haze, and you straightened out your hair and swimsuit as bobby scrambled to get off you.

hope: they’re gonna be getting it on if we leave them any longer.

bobby: so it’s (Y/N)’s turn then?

he rubbed his hands together with devilish excitement as some of the other islanders pounded on the wooden floorboards for a drumroll effect.

bobby: truth or dare, (Y/N)?

your eyes scanned around at lightspeed, for some reason looking for a sign of some sort to help you choose. you briefly caught noah looking in your direction, but when you glanced back at him, his gaze shifted elsewhere.

you: i guess i’ll pick dare.

you gave rocco an animated shrug as he scurried over to hand you your card.

rocco: now that’s what i’m talking about! live on the edge, (Y/N)!

as you skimmed over the card, you quickly realized that this dare would not be as much fun as the last one.

you: send a sexy selfie to the islander you find most attractive.

you tried not the let the anxiety bubbling up in your stomach show through your tone of voice, although you did worry that all the good will you’d built up with bobby would immediately come crashing down.

you rationalized that surely it wouldn’t be productive to lie about your feelings - on a show about finding love - and on the first day, when the future was still so uncertain. bobby was handsome, undoubtedly. he would be the type of guy you’d be lucky to meet on a night out; his eyes hypnotic and his physique enviable. he would be the type of boyfriend that’d impress all your friends back home.

but then there was noah. noah was the type of guy you would consider a dreamboat, if that term wasn’t so corny. it was almost like he existed in a realm beyond a dream - perhaps more on par with guys that were so attractive, you thought they could only exist in movies. noah’s face had just the right amount of masculine appeal, from his defined brow and jawline, yet his smile gave him such a boyish charm. and just from the short while you’d spent interacting with him, you could feel just how genuine he was, never saying more or less than what was in his mind.

you quickly swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat, tossing your hair out of your face and pulling out your phone. you were admittedly no stranger to taking selfies, so you were fast to find the right angles and start snapping. the pose you decided on was rather cool and aloof, as opposed to outright sexy - your lips formed a subtle pout as your eyes stared down the camera lens intensely.

you: sorry if it’s underwhelming, lads. the sexiest thing about me is my attitude.

your thumbs tapped away at light speed, entering the name of the boy you’d chosen. there was only a split second of relief, where you’d let out a nervous sigh, before a phone buzzed.

noah: wow... thanks.

maybe you were just a bit eager, but you swore you saw his cheeks turn red even through his dark complexion.

rocco: noah, you were the chosen one, bruv! why don’t you pick the next person?

noah: err... how about you then, rocco?

rocco hurriedly closed his eyes and chose a random card from the bottom of one of the piles.

marisol: well? truth or dare, rocco?

rocco: oh. sorry. truth. i just got excited to get into some real talk.

the group was almost completely silent while rocco looked over his card. he sensed the eyes on him, raising up the cards in his left hand in attempt to break the awkward atmosphere.

rocco: this pile is the truth pile, just so you guys know.

marisol: what does your card say, babe?

her tone was almost reminiscent of a kindergarten teacher’s. he simply shrugged - perhaps trying to seem nonchalant - and handed the question to her to read.

marisol: what’s your idea of the perfect date?

rocco: i thought a little bit about my answer, and i think what i’ve come up with is pure class: so i run this food truck right? cronuts and smoothies. i drive it out to a meadow, or some place with a proper nice view, and we have a little picnic at sunset. then, once the moon and stars come out, just lay on the truck roof and talk all night long.

hannah: i can’t lie... that does sound really romantic.

you happened to catch marisol mid-eyeroll and had to stifle a laugh.

gary: don’t you think laying on top of a truck is a bit dangerous though? i’d reckon a walk through a shipyard at night would be just as nice. the red lights from the ships, a little bit of sea breeze blowing through her hair as well. that sounds well romantic.

a blatant giggle came from lottie’s direction.

bobby: mate, do you really think a girl would find that romantic though?

gary: one who isn’t tryna waste time driving to the middle of nowhere and risk her life climbing onto a truck, yeah. in my opinion, romance isn’t meant to be about pointless spectacle. it should be realistic. i’d take a girl to the shipyard because i’d wanna share my favorite place with her.

bobby: a good point indeed, but i think romance should be a bit more lighthearted. you know - invite a girl over to bake some cupcakes together, maybe get into a bit of a food fight, maybe find an excuse to lick frosting off her lips?

hope sent bobby a confused glance.

bobby: oh, i work as a cook in a hospital. baking is kinda my thing.

you took note of hope in your peripheral vision. bobby’s explanation didn’t seem to placate her, as you noticed her chuckling behind a fist which she held in front of her mouth. instinctively, you turned to bobby and placed a hand lightly on top of his.

his blinking became a bit faster but he quickly turned to face you, his voice hushed.

bobby: and in case you were wondering, cupcakes are my specialty. i’m working on a recipe for cinnamon banana cupcake batter; it’s totally gonna blow the minds of geriatric patients everywhere.

you chuckled, shaking your head slightly and turning your gaze toward the ground. bobby couldn’t help but relish in the fact the you were smiling with teeth for the first time all day.

you: and i’m sorry about choosing noah for the dare. but obviously, it’s just a surface-level thing, and i don’t want you to think it means i’m not into you.

bobby: well, i’ll be honest, it’s quite nice to know that you are into me.

lottie: aw crikey, we’ve lost bobby and (Y/N).

marisol: come on lottie, it’s the first day. they’re getting to know each other, and that was the point of this game anyway, right?

lottie: well, that brings up a good question: if we wanna get to know each other, would you lot mind if i go off-script for a second?

the others all shrugged in unison. as many big personalities as there were in the group, it seemed that everyone was rather easygoing, and liked to go with the flow.

lottie: (Y/N), truth or truth, who do you think has the right idea about romance?

marisol: wait, did going “off-script” mean changing the game rules?

lottie: i’m just curious, babes, and i’m sure the fellas would like to know too.

bobby and some of the other boys looked to you expectantly, even noah.

you: er... well... what gary said about taking a girl to see his favorite place was honestly really cool. that’s such a vulnerable gesture and really shows the other person how much they mean to you. even if a shipyard is less than romantic, in my opinion.

hope: this is actually kinda fun! what do you say we play a little more, with off-script questions?

bobby: why don’t you ask something, (Y/N)?

you: ok... what about you, ibrahim? are you feeling up for truth or truth?

ibrahim looked as though you’d awaken him from his own little world. he cleared his throat before answering, clearly shocked at the amount of eyes on him.

ibrahim: yeah... for sure. ask away.

you: hmm, well, i’m probably not as creative as whoever wrote that fat stack of questions, so i’ll just ask you the same thing: what do you reckon romance ought to be?

ibrahim paused for a moment, looking to the skyline. perhaps he was waiting for inspiration to strike him like a coconut falling from a mallorcan palm tree. though, he barely showed any expression of emotion on his face. he was thoroughly an enigma.

ibrahim: easy.

his answer seemed to elicit mixed reactions from the group, but marisol seemingly expressed approval with the raising of one eyebrow. perhaps she was determined to figure him out.

noah: oh shoot. i got a text.

islanders, now that you’ve broken the ice, it’s time to dive into the real love island experience! tonight, you’ll be served up some spanish sangria along with an extra sizzling surprise.

#litg #love island the game #ngl i started this like a year ago..#i've also never written self insert before so hopefully this isn't cringe #not vrp

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 4 years ago

Note

Omg can I please get a hannibal x a shy girl reader ? Like he’s really possessive of her and she doesn’t know how to handle it but she likes him so they date??

Sorry this took so long, anon. I’ve been bouncing ideas around and this one in particular, I believe, fits your request. Y/n feels out of place among Hannibal’s fancy friends and it becomes even more obvious when he abandons her at a party.

Trigger warnings: social anxiety, sexual harassment, overstimulation

You and Hannibal had an agreement about large gatherings. He could only bring you to a party if you had a week's notice and at least three uninterrupted hours of gaming time prior to the event.

For this event, you needed a solid six.

One of the major Maryland universities was awarding a lucrative research grant to a student of clinical psychology, and every influential name in the industry was expected to be there. As a recent college grad with a bachelor's in business you didn't know what to do with, you couldn't imagine a less welcoming environment if you tried. You couldn't fit into their world and more importantly, you didn't want to. But the thought of being noticeably different in any situation was twice as terrifying. So you spent the whole week repeating your mantra; blend in, be quiet and make it through the night.

But Hannibal had different plans for you.

Halfway through the week, just when you'd pushed the party out of your mind, Hannibal presented you with a gift.

"What's the occasion?" You asked. You hoped that if you pretended not to know, it would just magically go away.

"I brought you something to wear on Friday." Hannibal answered, hanging the garment bag up on the bureau. "You know I'll take any excuse to dress you up."

He unzipped the bag and placed a black silk dress into your arms. "Try it on so I have time to get it altered if it needs it."

The material was cool to the touch and outlined your figure so perfectly, you felt even a little naked. Hannibal, of course, loved this. You were his own personal Venus de Milo. His goddess and his muse.

“Yes, that will do nicely.” He observed, looking at you hungrily.

“Seems a little short for a such a sophisticated event, doesn’t it?” You raised an eyebrow. The answer was yes and he knew it. He was very deliberate in everything he did. “I don’t want to come off the wrong way.”

“And what way would that be, darling?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your figure.

“I mean--” You searched for the right words. “It’s a gathering of the Mid-Atlantic’s most esteemed academics, I feel like, in a dress like this, I might be seen as, well, a...”

“A prostitute?” Hannibal finished, choosing a much nicer word than you would have.

You looked down. “Yeah. It just doesn’t seem all that appropriate.”

Hannibal approached you and lifted your chin slightly to look into his eyes. “Many Christian denominations believe that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute, yet she was Christ’s right-hand woman. She was first to see him crucified and first to witness his resurrection.”

“Dr. Lecter,” You smirked. “I never would have taken you for a religious man.”

“Goodness, no.” He shook his head. “But any reputable academic is expected to be familiar with biblical literature and its many contradictions and impossibilities.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“You are my divine feminine, Miss [L/N].” Hannibal said in a low whisper. “And I want everyone to see it. If they see a common whore, it would only be a reflection of their own jealousy.”

Hannibal's rationalization almost made you forget about your fear of being noticed. Almost. It all came rushing back when you arrived at the event. Not one person your age was in attendance. The women wore long, flowing evening gowns that reached the floor. The length of your skirt alone guaranteed that all eyes were on you. In a simple black silk dress, you looked the very model of high society. Silk was a sign of luxury, and Hannibal wanted everyone to know that you were a woman of means. His woman, to be precise. That was why he brought you to these functions in the first place. To put you in a dress short enough for any wandering eyes so see the smattering of love bites running up your inner thighs. He wanted everyone in his field to know that you were completely and entirely his.

You realized too late that this was all his little exercise in showing you off.

Everyone seemed to know him. He only knew a handful of people by name, and you didn't know anyone.

"And who is this delightful young woman?" A woman with a light southern twang in her voice asked, looking at you as if you were a caged animal on display.

"I wasn't aware you had a daughter, Dr. Lecter." The young man beside her laughed. "Or is she your side piece?"

Your eyes scanned the room for the nearest exit. It would be unbecoming to make a scene, so you plotted a way to slip out quietly.

“Darling, meet Dr. Charlotte Ramset and her TA, David.” Hannibal introduced, notably ignoring the young man. “Dr. Ramset, this is my intended, [F/N] [L/N].”

"I didn't realize she was also a ventriloquist!" The lady, presumably Dr. Ramset, joked. You'd heard that one a million times. She looked at you. "Tell me about yourself, sweetie. What are you studying?"

The lady was old enough to be your grandmother and reeked of too much perfume.

"I graduated last year." You said, quietly. "With a BA in business."

"See, there's a good woman." David added. "Only speaks when spoken to. They don't make ’em like you anymore, baby."

Hannibal tightened his grip on your hand. "On the contrary, David. See, Miss [L/N] is quite a bit like myself. She only dignifies those she deems worthy with a response. There's nothing wrong with being selective."

The lady laughed at David's expense and smiled at you. "Good for you."

You smiled back just a little, not ready to bring your guard down yet. "I've had to deal with more than enough. It's best not to engage."

"Oh, I know, I know." The lady said, shaking her head. "That's how it is for us educated gals. Always having to put up with pigs. See, I went to college in the sixties, so I can tell you some real stories."

This was a new experience. Talking to Hannibal's friends and having them listen to you was something you never considered possible. Now, you were one of the educated gals. You were just about to strike up a conversation with this woman, when the man next to her decided someone desperately needed to play devil’s advocate.

“I find that sexist, actually.” He cut in. “Not all men are pigs.”

The silence following his comment was deafening and you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Whatever progress Hannibal and Dr. Ramset made breaking down your defenses was completely reversed and you were ready to retreat.

Dr. Ramset took a long sip of wine and adjusted her shawl. “David, none of us said anything about men, you drew that conclusion yourself.”

“I mean, look at you.” David gestured to your dress. You knew exactly where this was going and you wished you could just disappear. “You’re basically asking for it.”

Dr. Ramset glared at him. “David, that’s enough.”

“I’m just stating facts.” David crossed his arms. “If you dress like a slut, what do you expect?”

Dr. Ramset and Hannibal seemed to have an entire conversation through prolonged eye contact before one of them broke the silence.

"Charlotte, I hate to have to excuse myself so soon, but the president of the university is expecting me." Hannibal said, dropping your hand. Your heart hit the floor when you realized that he would be throwing you to the wolves.

"Of course, Dr. Lecter." She nodded. "Duty calls."

"I trust you'll keep an eye on my beloved [F/N] in my absence?" His voice hardened. The severity in his tone frightened you.

Dr. Ramset didn't seem disturbed or even surprised in the slightest by his gently threatening demand. "Of course."

"Thank you. And [F/N]?" He said, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. "I won't be going far. Please, try to have fun."

You tried not to look affronted, but you were going to have a long talk with Hannibal when you got home.

"I'm just saying what everyone is thinking." David continued, his inability to take a hint positively astounding. "Why don't you respect yourself enough to cover up, [F/N]? You have a boyfriend!"

Your eyes scrolled across the room looking for any sign of Hannibal, but he was gone. Dr. Ramset finished her wine and stared at her TA with the resigned disgust of a death row jailer.

"Any other thoughts?" She said, snatching a fresh glass of wine. You looked at her with a clear expression of discomfort.

"Come on, do you see any other woman in the room dressed so provocatively?" David's voice broke mid-sentence. "No. Because they're educated enough to know that real men don't care about their bodies."

The hotel clerk approached the group. "Mr. Hosmer, there's a call for you."

David narrowed his eyes. "Uh, what?"

"Someone is on the phone asking for you." The clerk repeated. "Says it's an emergency."

David shrugged. "Fine."

Just when you thought you would be rid of him, at least for a moment, he planted his hands on your hips in attempt to "get by" you. His touch was like that of an insect crawling across your skin; unexpected, filthy and leaving you squeamish.

"I'm so sorry about that." Dr. Ramset's words echoed in your ears, but you didn't really hear them. You were too focused on grounding yourself to process what she was saying.

“Dr. Ramset?” You said, quietly. “Which one is the president of the university?”

She glanced at a tall woman in a dark blue suit, surrounded by equally important looking businesspeople. You followed her eyes. “That’s Dr. Mary Hosmer.”

Your ounce of righteous fury was squelched in two seconds when the reality of having to talk to someone, especially someone of stature, set in. You looked sheepishly back at Dr. Ramset.

“Could you please ask her where Hannibal went?” You whispered. “I’d really like him to take me home now.”

Her face turned sympathetic. “Of course, [F/N]. Stay right there.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

Dr. Ramset crossed the floor and politely greeted the president. You took a few slow, calculated steps closer, just to get in earshot.

“Pardon me, but, have you seen Dr. Hannibal Lecter?” Dr. Ramset said, casually.

“I wasn’t aware Hannibal had even arrived yet.” The president answered. “I haven’t seen him.”

Your eyes widened. You fought the urge to freeze, but you had to move back before Dr. Ramset knew you’d been eavesdropping. You heard everything you needed and rushed back to where she’d left you.

“Dr. Hosmer said he stepped out.” She told you upon her return. “He should be back soon.”

You tried not to show that you knew she was lying. “...oh.”

“Would you like me to stay with you until he comes back?”

You knew you were completely on your own. You didn’t know what was going on, but you had an inkling that it had to do with the president and David sharing a last name. All you knew for certain was that you couldn’t trust anybody.

“Don’t bother.” You shook your head. You took off for the door, but Dr. Ramset grabbed your wrist.

“I’m sorry, [F/N].” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. She didn’t look mad, but afraid. “But Dr. Lecter told me to stay with you. Please. Don’t make this harder for me.”

You recalled how seriously threatening Hannibal’s request was. She wasn’t answering to the president of the university. She was answering to Hannibal. You didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved.

“Right.” You conceded, stepping back in. “I’m sorry.”

The actual award ceremony was much longer than it needed to be, and it dragged on even longer knowing there was no reason for you to be there. Other than that, you awkwardly followed Dr. Ramset around the party like a lost puppy the whole time. You were back to your original plan: blend in, be quiet and make it through the night.

Just when you thought the party would never end, someone tapped you on the arm. You turned around, hoping with every fiber of your being that it was Hannibal, but it wasn’t. A tall woman in a dark blue suit stared back at you.

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss.” She said, apologetically. “But have you seen my son? I saw him talking to you and Dr. Charlotte earlier, perhaps he told you where he was going?”

You’d pushed that man completely out of your mind. You shook your head. “He left to take a phone call and I haven’t seen him since.”

A hand found your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Hosmer, but I believe I saw the boy on his phone out in the lobby.”

“Dr. Lecter!” The president’s eyes widened. “How nice of you to finally join us.”

“...Yes, I believe he left right after making unwarranted comments towards my intended here.” Hannibal ran his hand down your arm lovingly.

“Well, boys will be boys.” The president chuckled. “Maybe you should teach your girlfriend not to wear such revealing clothes.”

Hannibal smiled and pulled you in protectively. “Whatever the case, I hope you find him very soon.”

Her phone chimed in her back pocket. “Oh, that’s him right now.”

“Wonderful.” Hannibal said. “[F/N] and I will be taking our leave.”

He hurried you towards the door, his hand tight around yours. A blood-curdling scream came from behind you. You looked back for just a moment and found the president hollering in pain and falling to her knees.

“Let’s go, darling.” Hannibal tugged at your arm. “They don’t deserve your presence.”

“Hannibal, I swear.” You said, once you were in the safety of the car. “If you killed every man who looked at me like a piece of meat, sooner or later, there won’t be any men left.”

Hannibal smirked and reached for his seatbelt. “Wonderful.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #anon ask #anon request

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cherrywoes · 4 years ago

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dark sun. (ryoumen sukuna x fem!reader x oc)

xiv. boketto.

— the act of gazing vacantly into the distance without thinking.

You came back into your body with a quiet crackling of the air around you. You could feel the way you acclimated back to your own body, having been pulled from it without Shion to occupy it while you were gone. You were stationary, your fingers still gently pressed to Yuuji’s forehead, and it took you a few moments of blurry vision and confused thoughts for you to realize the boy was very much awake and staring at you with a wide, surprised gaze. You lowered your hand from his face cautiously, wary of earning some sort of lash back for invading his mind, but all he did was look at you with slow, even blinks to convey his mental game of confusion.

“Um… What’s going on here?” He questioned, eyes flicking from you to Gojo and back again, as if his teacher had an answer for what you had just done. He watched you reach up and gently touch the baby at your chest, frowning for a moment. “Shiraishi-s...san?”

“I apologize for invading your mind without permission.” You smiled and bowed your head, trying to resist the way Shion was attempting to work your connection back. It seemed he was struggling more than usual and it was causing your chest to twist and ache unpleasantly; likely a result of his leftover anger. He was still likely angry, you knew, but he couldn’t resist staying away from you for too long. At least an hour was his record, at least, you believed it was an hour—you couldn’t be sure when domains worked differently in terms of time. It was probably longer, you supposed, but you couldn’t stand around and wait to see how long it would take him to establish that connection. “And I also apologize for… hurting you, before. You must know I didn’t mean it, Itadori-san.”

He looked more befuddled than before, eyebrows shooting upwards in surprise. You wondered if Sukuna was talking to him somehow, telling him to befriend you—or something along those lines. “Oh, uh… Yeah. The god in your body did it, right? Not you? So, consider it water under the bridge, I guess.”

You couldn’t blame him for his hesitance. He was, after all, a vessel, the same as you, and he knew as well as you did that sometimes the actions of vessel and curse aligned at times. You weren’t sure about Sukuna in Yuuji’s case, but Shion’s actions aligned with your beliefs and wants perfectly. He didn’t doubt you for a second, and nor did you him—except for recently, perhaps.

The tampering with your connection was growing too irritating for you to bear and you could feel bile cresting in your throat. It wasn’t much, but you were going to purge you stomach’s meagre contents, and soon, so you fixed Gojo with a grateful smile; one that was laced with warning for him not to stop you.

“I’m afraid I have to go now,” you said, bowing low to Yuuji and Gojo separately. It was only the polite thing to do, and well, it didn’t help settle your nerves in the least. Shion twisted at the connection again and your smile became a little more pained, a little more tenuous. “I apologize for the intrusion, Satoru-san. Thank you for bringing me here.”

With little else to spur you on than the pinpricks of pain crawling up your belly and chest, you breezed past Gojo and up the stairs, slamming the door when the wind vacated the space behind you. The basement was silent for a few moments, maybe more, with Yuuji and Gojo staring up the staircase where you had vanished, as if you had never been there to begin with.

“What was that all about?” Yuuji asked, reaching for a half drank can of soda. He grimaced at the flat taste and the sickly sweet artificial aftertaste that came after, putting it down on the table with an audible clink. “Oh, gross.”

Gojo hummed and declined to answer, pulling another move from the generous pile he had donated to the cause, and cracked open the case. He spun the disc around the holder a few times, thoughts whirling as he considered your words from before, about the higher ups. The distaste in your tone as you spoke. He didn’t think you would have been one to be loyal to the higher ups in the first place, of course, seeing as you had been hidden from the world for almost your entire life—it wasn’t such an issue to assume that you were, in fact, harboring the same ideals he was: get rid of the higher ups. Your views, however, might be inherently more selfish; you had no care for any of the other sorcerers, not even for the woman who had been at your side since you became a vessel. You seemed entirely focused on escaping the confinement, the pressing holds, of the old crones that made up the circle of higher ups; at least, that was what he was able to read from you. Without that god hovering over you like a ghost, you were surprisingly human, and vulnerable—not that he had expected anything less. Yuuji was much the same in that regard. However, while parallel in origin, you and Yuuji were not the same, not really; your curse would protect you until the day you died, that much was obvious. Sukuna was much more malicious in intention, without a doubt.

“Gojo-sensei,” Yuuji whined, drawing his attention back to his student. He huffed and slumped over on the sofa, almost knocking over a stray can. “Are you even listening?”

“Of course,” he laughed, inserting the CD into the disc drive. It was a low budget horror film, he recognized, but he didn’t watch it personally. He had scooped up the cheapest selections he could find, with some more widely known titles like Lord of the Rings, but Yuuji didn’t seem to mind them as much as he thought. “I was just thinking about our new ally.”

“Ally?” the pink haired male gawked. “Who?”

Gojo tipped his head to the side, a large grin on his face. “You just met her.”

While Gojo shoved his student back to the test, you were worse off—perhaps even more so—your eyes darting across buildings and streetlights to gauge your location. Your stomach rumbled unpleasantly and you almost swore Shion was doing it to you on purpose, but you could feel his anger preventing him from unraveling the block completely; or he was conflicted, and was going back and forth on his decisions. It was wreaking havoc on your body, that was for certain, and you almost wanted to reach into his domain and pull him out yourself. If that was possible, you didn’t know, but for now, you could be content with a toilet.

You had to sprint to make it to your building before your stomach betrayed you. You had sense enough to lean over in a group of shrubs and hide your evidence, heaving your stomach’s contents onto the grass, and when you opened your eyes, spent, tears glazing your eyes, you noticed that it was entirely black; as black as ink, as black as the night sky in full midnight. You didn’t think you had eaten anything that color and when you rolled your tongue in your mouth, you tasted something sickly sweet and with the tang of iron.

Blood.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your sleeve, feeling it smear across your cheek. You couldn’t be bothered with it now; you had to get back into your room and make sure Shion was none the wiser to what you had been up to. Your stomach cramped painfully and you barely made it up the tree and across the roof, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from groaning at the pain. You wern’t certain if it was Shion or the blood you had vomited up that made you feel so awful, but you could attribute it to both if you wanted, and you did. You slipped through the window once more and locked it behind you, snatching up a book and cradling Ayako to your chest despite wanting nothing touching you at the moment.

Cold sweat dripped down the back of your neck and you were certain it had nothing to do with Shion now. You felt… ill. Sick. Diseased. Your heart was beating a little too fast; your pulse pounded in your ears; you felt anxious, panicky; you half wondered if you were having a panic attack, but pushed it aside when the connection finally unraveled like the petals of a lotus—slowly, and then all at once.

“Shion,” you croaked, breathy and light. You sensed his alarm at the growing pain in your body and a flush of energy breezed through you, dulling the pain bit not completely suffocating it. “Thanks.”

What happened? He materialized almost instantly afterwards. His hair was haphazardly put into a knot at the back of his head and stuck up in a million different places, as if he’d spent hours running his hands through it before tying it back up and leaving it as was. His horns even protruded from his skull, longer than you recalled them being, and he had dark circles under his eyes, deep and ominous against the pallor of his skin. He looked almost as sickly as you did, if not worse. Your gut told you that something more was going on here, something deeper. “[Name]?”

His vocalization of your name ripped you out of your thoughts and you looked up at him, sweat beading your brow. “I… I don’t know. I threw up, and then my stomach started—then the sweating…”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gathering you into his arms. Your book flopped to the floor, uncared for, even as the page fluttered open to the ‘A’ section, the name ‘Ayako’ highlighted by a streak of moonlight. “If I had known my anger would make you so ill, I would have never cut off our connection. I could have stopped this.”

Your own guilt overpowered his. You patted his arm, just above the crook of his elbow, and grimaced at the way your skin stuck to his with the cooling sweat. “It’s alright, Shion. It isn’t your fault—your emotions, while new, aren’t something to be brushed aside. You can’t just ignore them for me. You have to overcome them. I think not sharing them is… making it worse every time.” You silently omitted the fact that his failed attempts at unraveling the connection had started it in the first place. You deserved this pain for betraying him. You deserved everything he gave you, even if it was unintentional. It was the only way you would succeed. “... Help me up?”

When you were safely tucked away in your bed, your clothes changed into something more cooler to deal with the sweat, you allowed Shion to sequester Ayako away in a pillow barricade and steal her side for himself, likely having learned it from passively observing you. He was careful not to jostle you too much, highly aware of the way your stomach was still churning, and rested his ear against your heart, tapping his fingers to the rhythm on your hip. You didn’t fight him off, no matter how uncomfortable you might have been, and played idly with his hair, pulling it from the knot and twisting it around his horns. Other than your breathing and Ayako’s quiet sounds of grunting and squeaking, the room was quiet. You could feel him gearing up to speak in the way his jaw was working.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you reassured him, throat flexing over the gag reflex you were trying to repress. A moment later it was gone, magically repressed—but you could still feel it resisting his power, strangely. “I don’t expect you to explain everything to—”

“But I want to,” Shion interrupted you. He never looked up at you, but continued to tap to your heartbeat still, even noting the slight stutter when your thoughts came to a screeching halt. “That was a… sensitive time in my existence. I admit that. But… I don’t believe I’m ready to speak of it just yet. When I’m ready, I’ll let you know.”

You waited for a moment to see if he would say anything more, to even hint that he was as angry as he was before, but all you felt from him was guilt, guilt, and more guilt, which made no sense; you were the only one who had to feel guilty about anything. His secrets didn’t have the ability to break hearts and fragile trust, after all.

“Alright,” you said, once it was clear he had nothing else to say. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Shion.”

“And if one day, I want to?”

You frowned slightly at his change in tone. Something was different. Something had… shifted. You couldn’t put your finger on it and shifted uncomfortably, reaching up to thumb the prongs of his horns thoughtfully. “Then that’s your decision, not mine.”

A pause. Then,”I see.”

“Are you alright?” You asked, finally, when waiting became too much. He looked up at you then, green and gold eyes flashing in the moonlight, and though his gaze was gentle, every instinct in you warned you to flee. But like a lamb to a lion, you were doomed to a careful existence with him. “You look, well, awful. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sick before.”

He frowned, almost similarly to how you did, and his eyebrows drew down. “I’m not sure.”

“I’m sure it'll be fine then.” You yawned, pressing your fist against your mouth to smother it. You snuggled into your pillow and shifted Shion to be a little more comfy, eyes flicking to Ayako, who was as placid as ever. Shion turned his head again and pressed his ear to your heart once more, obscuring your view of Ayako completely. You were blissfully unaware at the way his eyes narrowed at the child when you slipped into a deep sleep, mumbling,”Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Shion whispered. “[Name].”

Ayako froze underneath his stare, dark eyes wide, and remained that way until the god finally vanished upon the first rays of the sun.

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skiller0dani · 5 years ago

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Peace Offering | King Henry V

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King Henry IV sat on the throne, his health declining but the look of disdain written plain on his face at the mention of his eldest son. “What else has he ruined?” The King spat at the guard, who rushed here straight from Eastcheap with news of the Prince. The guard remained calm as he kept his gaze lowered from the King, “he was seen exiting the Tavern with another wench.” He informed the King, who requested all information of Henry bedding commoners were brought to him. A sigh escaped the forlorn King’s mouth before a rather ingenious idea struck him then, “summon my son to me again.” He shouted to nobody in particular. One guard rushed from the room immediately to then find the Prince of Wales. Though none dared speak their concerns, all in the Throne room doubted Henry would answer the summons after the King informed him he would not be the next to sit upon the throne of England. The look in their King’s eyes informed of them that he would not yet give up on this so easily. “My King?” A noble bravely asks, stepping in front of King Henry IV.

“Why do you wish to summon Prince Henry?” He asks, but instead of the angry expression he was expecting the King smiled. “I wish merely to offer my son a peace offering.” The noble bowed before stepping back towards his family, not wishing to press the matter any further.

When the guards did manage to locate the Prince, he was as they expected him to be: drunk. Henry needn’t even open his closed eyed to know who approached, the sounds of big heavy metal armor gave them away the moment they stepped onto Eastcheap. “My liege you have been summoned to the castle by the King.” The guards inform Henry with a practiced emotionless stare. Henry smiled mockingly as he remained laying on the bench. A half eaten apple is held in his left hand and an empty tankard is in his right. “You may inform the King that I less than politely decline the summons. You may also wish him ill will on my behalf.” Henry smiled, turning his head and closing his eyes once more. The guards exchange a glance as neither know which leverage to use to force the Prince to accompany them.

“The King wishes to bestow a gift to you my Prince.” The taller of the two guards says as he takes one shaky step forward. The Prince is not known to have a temper, but the guard still wishes to avoid the wrath of Prince Henry. An empty laugh sounds from the Prince, “I have had my fair share of ‘gifts’ from the King. Each of which a different attempt to bribe me to behave.” Henry’s tone is knowing, and his words have completely disarmed the guards. They have no suitable counterargument prepared. The smaller guard eyes down the Prince, “Y/N I’ve heard is eager to see you again my liege.” Henry’s eyes open as quickly as a gust of wind.

“Is she being bedded by the King?” Henry asks and the pair of guards share a look Henry does not yet understand the meaning of. “Is not our place to say your highness.” Henry curses softly just under the labored breath caught in his throat, that in itself is enough of an answer. You are the daughter of a greedy noble, your Father shamelessly sold you off to the King to fulfill whatever the King asks of you. Henry had seen you under the stars the last time he found himself near the castle, which is less often than not. He slunk into the grounds to try and catch a glimpse of the fair maiden he’d seen floating so elegantly down the halls. Once his eyes landed upon you his heart was stilled in his chest. It felt as though a thousand bolts of lightning had struck him suddenly, and it sickened him as he knew likely what his Father used you for. How could he or any man resist you when you look as though you’ve been gifted to man by the Gods themselves. Your beauty truly is divine.

Falstaff gave Henry a look that said more than words ever could. Both of them were gravely aware that Henry would have to answer the summons sooner or later. Falstaff was employed to keep Henry out of trouble, although he doesn’t try as hard to do so as he could, and he said nothing as Henry stood and exited the Tavern leaving the guards with no answer.

It was weeks before the guards managed to convince Prince Henry to answer the summons of the King. He only accepted so they could leave him to drink in peace after he’d heard whatever rubbish his Father spewed. So Henry stood in the throne room, a look of mocking plainly on his face. With a wave of his hand, The King summoned 4 beautiful women to stand in front of the Prince. “What is your game?” The young Prince asks with an amused smile as his eyes land on you. You stand at the end of the line, your hands folded and head down. “A mere peace offering my son. I have seen how you enjoy the company of a beautiful woman with a fair bosom.” The King smiles, the unspoken conversation ringing in the air clearly. The words unspoken of how the King merely wishes to be rid of Prince Henry. “So pick the fairest woman you see before you, each of which were selected by me.” The King stands and moves behind the 4 women, 3 of which are quite eager. You however have a million butterflies desperately trying to escape your insides as the King trails a hand down your bare arm.

“This one here son, is my personal bed wench. I am willing to part with her if it would please you. She is indeed one of my favorites.” The King smiles and you keep your innocent look intact even though you feel horribly nauseous as the King watches you with hungry devouring eyes. Henry scowls before lowering his head, with a knowing smile stretched across his face. “I choose none.” He says before turning and dismissing himself, leaving the seething King behind. The King turns towards you and finds your eyes with his, “tomorrow’s dawn you are to go to Prince Henry’s home. I pick you on his behalf for I saw how his eyes glazed in your presence.”

Indeed when the sun of the next dawn rises, two guards are escorting you to the home of Prince Henry. You have specific instructions from the King on what to do once you arrive. Although you have pleased many men before, never have you had the pleasure of tasting Prince Henry- and he looked simply decadent. He was quite easily the most attractive man you have yet to lay your eyes on. You were dressed in a light colored silk dress, the sleeves resting just off your pale shoulders as you rode in the back of a wagon. You approached Eastcheap, and soon stopped at the doorstep of a quaint wooden house. The guards insured you entered the home safely before starting back towards the castle.

Making your way up the steps carefully, you push into the Prince’s bedroom only to see him laying in his bed with another woman. This doesn’t surprise you in any way, but it doesn’t stop the twisting in your gut as you eye her resting her head against his arm. You have no issues with your naked body, you’ve stood naked in front of many strange men that have purchased you from the King for an evening. You would never admit this aloud, but you are quite happy to be rid of the King- even if it’s merely for one evening. You reach up and untie the string securing your dress before letting the fabric fall to the ground. The sound of your dress falling from your body to the wooden floors stirs the Prince, and his eyes flutter open before settling on you.

“What have we here?” He asks, resting on one elbow as you use all your self control to keep your eyes off his bare chest. His eyes however shamelessly drink in your exposed skin as one hand shakes the slumbering woman next to him. “Out.” He says, his eyes on you and voice distracted. The woman pulls on a dress and eyes you with vehement jealousy as she exits the room. “I am a gift from King Henry.” You inform him, attempting to make your voice as steady as you can. “A gift in the hopes of ensuring peace between the two of you.” You finish, unable to stop the tremble of your voice. Henry smiles wryly before standing and taking a few steps towards you. Your breath catches at the sight of his bare body, his own nakedness seems to bother him not as well. You are standing naked before each other, and you can expect what he will do next. His hand reaches out and you wait breathlessly for him to touch you, but he reaches down to pull your dress back up your porcelain body. Your confusion must be written across your face plainly because he smiles.

“You must be used to your body being bruised and admired for mens pleasure, so if you are a gift to me then I shall make it worth your while. I will not bed you, nor will I sheathe myself in you, I assure you.” Henry promises and while his words strike your heart with their sweet sincerity, you had greatly hoped to bed him. Your cheeks darken in a heated crimson blush as he steps past you to pull clothing on over his naked skin. “What is your name?” Henry asks from behind you and it feels as though your throat has cinched shut. He asks as a politeness for he already knows who you are.

“Y/N my liege.” You inform him, remembering to keep your tone light and proper. Henry reappears beside you, holding his arm out for you to take. You blush deeply as he walks the two of you onto Eastcheap, “has my Father seen your body bare?” He asks, his tone tight. You pause for a moment, not expecting a question such as this. “Yes my liege.” You tell him and you can feel his body tense beside you, only slightly. Henry then pulls you down an ally and gently pushes you against one of the buildings, his eyes boring into yours as his hands plant firmly on each side of your head. “Has he sheathed himself deep in you?” Henry asks, his tone a soft growl and his pupils wide. Your heart hammers heavily against your ribcage, feeling the warmth pooling in your pelvis. “Y-Yes my Prince.” You whisper, your tone breathless. Prince Henry’s eyes darkened then, a look of uncontrollable anger etching into his face.

One of his hands slides down your body, underneath your dress before landing on your aching womanhood. You gasp breathlessly as you stare into his eyes, “why would you allow him to savor the feeling of being inside your warmth?” His voice is angry, tight, and his expression is no different. You swallow a hollow lump in your throat, “I have not the choice to say no my liege. Would be my undoing if I were to deny the King his pleasures.” You inform the Prince, who surely knew this already. Henry releases you and steps away, your dress falling back to your feet. “Then I shall not return you to my greedy Father.” He says, holding his arm out again for you to take. Your heart leapt in your chest but you said nothing as you took his arm once more.

The day was filled with picking flowers in the field, purchasing fresh fruits and vegetables, and only arguing weakly when the Prince insisted on buying you a silver locket. The sun had set when the two of you turned for the Princes home, and at this point in the evening, your nerves had settled tremendously. “My liege, why has the King outcast you so?” You asked him, no fear in your tone for you know the Prince is not like other royalty. You could ask of him anything and you doubt it would offend him. Another wry smile crossed onto his face as he led you carefully up the stairs. “I drink too much and bed too many women, for in that lions eyes I am but a child in the shape of a man.” You can see the sadness in his eyes, although he tries to shroud it from you. Alone in his bed chambers once again, you felt your nerves beginning to take hold in your chest. You felt your palms twitch anxiously as you dawdled by the door.

Henry set the basket of fresh foods down on a wooden table before turning to face you again. “Disappointment made itself plain on your face upon my promise not to bed you.” He said, more as an observation rather than a question. A knowing smile crossed smoothly onto his face as the young Prince watched your cheeks darken in a heated blush. “Perhaps disappointment is how I felt upon hearing your promise.” You say, your voice coy as you watch him through your eyelashes.

Henry takes a step towards you but you lower your head. “But you cannot, for my body is merely a peace offering. If you were to bed me, the King would see that as acceptance of peace. I know you are not yet ready to yield your anger towards the King.” You inform him, your heart sullen as you keep your eyes on the faded floor boards. The mischievous smile remains on his features as Henry’s eyes darken, “nothing would please me more than to steal away my Father’s favorite female companion.” He says, refusing to call you a ‘bed wench’. Henry takes your hand in his own as he stands mere centimetres from you, “will you have me Y/N? Would you defy the King to stay here with me?” His voice is hesitant, almost as though he fears you will reject him. You have not the strength to fight the smile as it crosses your face.

“Yes my Prince, I wish to stay with you.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper as you gaze up into his darkening eyes. Henry’s hands reach up to gently hold your face between his palms as he draws you up on your toes. His lips brush gently against your own, “do you long for me as I long for you?” Henry asks, rutting his hips against yours allowing you to feel the swelling appendage between his legs. A breathless gasp escapes your lips as he presses his mouth firmly to yours. Henry’s hands hold firmly to your cheeks, and you feel not only his lips against yours but a burning emotion searing from his body to yours. A desperate whine falls past his lips as his fingers hold you tighter, and with a few guiding steps he’s laying you back against his mattress. His hands fumble with removing the fabric of your dress, but eventually the material is being pulled from your body.

Henry takes a nipple into his mouth, lavishing it with his tongue as his other hand slides deftly between your legs. You instantly spread your thighs to allow him more space, and his fingers stroke through your lips. “I must admit Y/N, I knew you before the King brought you before me.” Henry’s voice is breathless as he gazes down at you. A crimson blush dances over your pale cheeks as you watch him with curious eyes, “For how long have you known of me my liege?” Henry’s eyes sparkle with care as a hand reaches up to stroke your hair, “longer than I am comfortable to admit.” One of the Princes hands drifts down in between your spread thighs, his eyes however stay focused on yours. “I used to sneak into the castle ground to watch you chart the stars, you are far more intelligent then you let people know.”

His fingers slide gently into you, the shadow in his eyes allowing you to watch how thoroughly he enjoys this. A subtle gasp escapes your lips as Henry hovers his mouth over your neck, and you can feel the fan of his breath brush against your skin. Henry deftly moves his fingers inside you, “you looked delectable under the moonlight, your skin painted so delicately, your nimble fingers recording the beauty you saw with your eyes. I wished in that moment to do the same.” His voice is soft, nearly a whisper as moans escape your lips. As soon as you’d felt him inside you, his fingers were pulled away as he knelt above you. “I have no intention of returning you to my Father, I wish you to believe that in your heart.” He says, his voice thick with sincerity. His fingers move nimbly as he loosens the string securing his trousers around his waist. “I believe it my liege.” You whisper and a fond smile crosses onto his face as he gently leans over you again.

Henry slides sweetly inside you, and you never knew you could feel such pleasure. He pulls his hips back before pushing them against your pelvis once more. Stars are erupting behind your eyes and your hand grasp at his shoulders to find purchase somewhere as your body and mind unravel beneath him. He feels perfect inside you, almost as though that’s where he was meant to be. You feel as though your body is alight as his body meets yours. Henry’s hands pull you even closer, his voice whispering sweet words into the shell of your ear. The temperature in the room rises, and you feel your body intertwining with his. Feeling the swells of pleasure intensify you cry out softly as you feel your orgasm approaching. With another clash of his pelvis against yours, you’re pulsating around him.

After the candles have been blown out, and Henry has returned to the bed he pulls you carefully into his side. “Henry, you know the King won’t just allow me to go free, he purchased me from my Father...” You start, worry and sadness deep in your tone. Henry presses a soft and lingering kiss to your forehead before looking into your eyes. “I will keep you safe from him now and always, I promise.” His eyes held truth to them and you knew he meant what he said, but for how long could the Prince keep you from the King?

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#timothee hal chalamet #timothee chalamet smut #Timothee Chalamet #timothée chalamet imagine #timmy chalamet #lil timmy tim #hal #prince henry of wales #king henry smut #the king imagine #the king smut #timothee chalamet the king

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draco-kasai · 3 years ago

Text

Hero Collaboration Program

Chapter 2 pt. 2 of 2: Welcome to The Program -->

Chapter 2 pt. 1 --> Chapter 1

Miss. Frizzle turned on her heel and walked over to a rack of dodgeballs that Mr. Jones hid from view behind him. Taking a few balls, she began placing them on the white chalked line on the grass. The field was marked out for them to play almost any sport. The ends were marked out as makeshift nets and the edge of the middle had poles protruding out the ground with the volleyball net tied snugly to one, in case they decided to play. The storage room contains the actual soccer nets and all the sports balls as well as chairs, and foldable tables.

“The rules are pretty simple. You’ll be placed into two teams and are allowed to use your quirks in any way to help you. You are not allowed to step over the line to the other team's side. You can't leave the court unless you grab stray balls, at least until you have 'dead' players to retrieve them for you. If you attempt to catch a ball only to drop it, you are out. No headshots, you'll be eliminated if you do. If you are hit by a fly ball, you are out, even if it wasn't intended for you."

"The point of this activity is to get you all used to one another’s abilities right off the bat. You’ll have to remain as coordinated as possible and have faith that your teammates will work with you. As far as I know, just about none of you have a proper understanding of each other's abilities. Heroes fight alongside heroes they’ve never worked with, this is how you learn to adjust to that.” He bounced the ball in his hand a few times as he spoke, his eyes scanning the crowd of students before him. The moment he was done talking, he threw the ball at a girl with dark hair that shines blue in the sunlight. She squeaked at this sudden action, but caught the ball with no problem.

“Marinette, come on up.” A little nervously, the girl walked around the crowd and made her way to stand next to Mr. Jones. Her free hand fiddled with the base of her loose over the shoulder pink top, dark pink sweatpants shifted as she moved to face the students. Her dark hair was tied back into a neat bun. Before she could ask Mr. Jones a question, a ball flew in between them. Turning her head, she spotted the moment a dark skinned male with braids caught the ball.

“Very good Virgil! Please, make your way up.” Miss. Frizzle giggled, suddenly standing on Mr. Jones’s other side. The male shrugged his shoulders and made his way over. He wore a loose white tank top that showed off his toned arms and khaki sweatpants. “Ladies and Gentlemen, meet your team captains.”

Mr. Jones pulled out a quarter, “Heads or tails?” he asked the two teens.

“Heads/Tails” they responded in unison. Looking over to one another, they laughed softly.

“Great! Virgil will be heads and Marinette, tails.” He flipped the coin in the air. In a fluid motion, he caught it and flipped it to rest on the back of his other hand, “And the person to choose their teammates first is…” He moved his hand to reveal the coin. “Tai-” Before he could even say the word, the coin flipped itself over.

“Heads.” Virgil smirked smugly as he brought his hand back down into his pocket. Marinette’s eyes widened in realization at what had just occurred. “He said we could use our quirks to help us. He never said it had to be during the game, so I’m taking advantage to get the first pick.” The young girl’s eyes narrowed slightly. So he’s going to take the game seriously, fine, she will too. Virgil has just unlocked her competitive side, and from the fact that his smug smirk widened, that would mean he was hoping for that.

Oh, game on.

“It’s good to know you know how to read between the lines and find loopholes.” Many of the students straightened up at his words, Mr Jones grinned widely, “Virgil gets first pick! Take turns, you two!”

“Cool, I pick,” He looked over at everyone. He spoke with some of the guys during foosball, they seemed pretty skilled, “Manny.” A boy with curly hair, wearing a loose gray T-shirt and cargo shorts, let go of his girlfriend's hand and walked over to his new team captain.

Marinette’s eyes scanned the crowd, “Um…” Her eyes landed on a boy with messy black hair. His brown eyes were busy scanning each of the students. She recalls him speaking to her in French as she sat outside sketching, a rather pleasant surprise and conversation. When he had left she had noticed that he was making his rounds speaking to everyone, even during breakfast he bounced around. Maybe it’s just her competitive side hoping, but he just might know what everyone's skills are, he just might be useful. “Hiro.” She said, pointing to the boy with a red graphic T-shirt and knee-length shorts. He gave her a sly smirk and casually made his way over.

“Whatcha think man?” Virgil asked Manny as they both scanned the crowd.

“I don’t really know anybody’s quirks or skills… Frida is quirkless but has killer parkour experience.” Manny spoke with a pretty heavy accent. He crossed his arms over his chest, “Um, Billy seemed pretty cool too. So did Gar.” Virgil nods to what his partner said.

“Then we’ll just have to get all three of them.” He spoke up louder, “Gar.”

“Glad I was a first choice.” Hiro spoke quite fluently in French as he walked over to her. Marinette smiled kindly.

“I noticed that you were going around speaking to everyone this morning and during breakfast. Quite the social butterfly, aren’t you?”

Hiro chuckled softly, “Ah, and here I thought you realized I was actually gathering information on everyone.”

“No, but I was hoping you’d have some to help us. Good to know I wasn’t completely off."

“Right! Well, I suggest the Possible duo. Kim is quirkless but has cheerleading and acrobatics skills. That will definitely be useful for us. Her partner, Ron, has a quirk that turns any of his bad luck around into good luck. That would be useful to us, oh! And Damian would be useful too, I’m pretty sure he also noticed me gathering information. He seems smart and observant, don’t know what he can do though, I couldn't get anything out of him.”

“Still impressed, you gathered a lot of information.”

“Of course I did. Just ask people about themselves, and they’ll reveal information without realizing it.” Now that she thinks about it, Marinette does recall being the one to do most of the talking. Oh, this guy is cunning. She smirked.

“Oh, I like you. Glad to have you on board.” They exchanged a handshake and a mischievous smirk before the female turned to call out a name, “Kim.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed slightly as his opponent’s gave one another a handshake. “Whatcha guys think? Frida, or Billy next?”

“Oh! Actually, before we choose one of them, I suggest Damian. He’s quirkless, but he’s a force to be reckoned with!” Garfield eagerly put in his opinion, “He’s really smart and calculating. He’s skillful in fights, too.”

“Whatcha think?” Virgil looked to Manny.

“I don’t really got a problem with it.” Manny shrugged, “If he’s that good, he should not go to the other team.”

“Gotcha. Damian.”

Marinette almost cursed. There goes one of their choices. Oh well, they still have other players to choose from.

“Hey I think we should get Ron on our team, his quirk would probably come in handy for this, its-”

“Karmic Luck. Any of his bad luck is countered with a burst of good luck.” Hiro cut Kim off, catching her off guard.

“Yeah, how did you…?”

“He’s quite the social butterfly.” Marinette smiled before calling for Ron. It took a moment before Kim realized what she meant by that. He had come up to them while they were playing 8ball and got Ron talking and talking.

A smirk crossed her lips as she cocked her hip out and placed her hands on them, “Oh, you are sneaky. This will definitely make things interesting.” Hiro gave her a thanks in response.

Damian wanted to roll his eyes at the current conversation happening in front of him. The idiots seem to just be gathering people they have spoken too. He does not want to be on a team of incompetent players. Finally, having enough on rather or not Frida or Billy would be a good fit he butts in. “Why not select Lee. She seems fairly competent and skilled. She also seems to have quick reflexes, from the way she easily caught Parr’s tray when she slipped this morning.” Garfield, Manny and Virgil all stared at Damian in silence.

“What?”

“I mean, like, I don’t disagree with what you said and all, they sound like a good fit but like…”

“Maldita sea, no sé ni la mitad de lo que dijo.” Manny mumbled under his breath as he ran a hand down his face. As if knowing his struggle, Garfield pats his back reassuringly.

“Dude, who’s Lee and Parr?” Garfield asked for them. Damian almost rolled his eyes.

“Juniper and Violet. It’s their last names.” he stated as if it were obvious.

“Dude… you call people by their last names? I mean, like no offense, but like… why?”

“It’s just a thing he does to people he doesn’t really know.” Garfield shrugs, “It's weird, but it’s his thing.”

“It’s simply polite to call an individual I am not close to by their last names,” Damian crossed his arms over his chest.

“Alright Mr. Fancy, but I would prefer it if you just went by our given names, you dig?” Virgil gave him a half smile

“I do not, but very well. I shall compromise, when I mention someone to you, I’ll use given names, however I will not do so when I speak to people directly.”

“I mean… that works?”

“On that note. We should be vigilant with the other team. Hama - Hiro has gone around to speak with everyone in the group. He has information on everyone. It will make it easier for them to choose worthy opponents.”

“What!? Hiro? But he was so nice!” Garfield frowned, his pointed ears drooping.

“Yes, well do tell, what did you talk about with him?”

“Oh! I told him about my diet, my girlfriend, my quirk, and what hero training is like in my school!”

Virgil clicked his tongue when he realized he just about spoke about the same things with the guy, “Oh man,… he knows our quirks and experience level.”

“And he went around speaking to everyone.” Manny added with a sigh

“If we wish to win, we have to take into consideration what we know of everyone and choose wisely.”

“Gotcha. So, Juniper right?” Virgil calls out her name the moment Damian confirms it.

“Zachary”

“Jenny.”

“Danny”

“Frida”

“Violet”

“Miles”

“Betty”

“Rudy”

“Fiona”

“Billy” Marinette mentally fist pumped as Jake walked over to her team. Virgil took some of the people she wanted, but she got some of the players she was hoping for. Miss. Frizzle gave them all a ten-minute period where they could discuss. Going on their own side of the field, the teams began explaining their skill set to one another, as well as coming up with possible strategies.

______

Teams: 10 v. 10

Virgil(electromagnetism), Manny(Tigre), Garfield(shape shift), Damian(quirkless), Juniper(Detect), Jenny(Cyborg), Frida(quirkless), Miles(spider), Rudy(Chalk Art), Billy(Shazam)

Marinette(lucky Charm), Hiro(Prodigy), Kim(quirkless), Ron(Karmic Luck), Zachary(Magic), Danny(Ghost), Violet(Flyrogensis), Betty(Self Gravity), Fiona(Hair Manipulation), Jake(Dragon)

#fanfiction #Crossover fanfiction #my hero academia au #alternate universe

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leahxx129 · 4 years ago

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Truth or Cut (Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester)

Hello there! This my * very VERY * late submission to @dontshootmespence ‘s Alphabet Angst for 8k Challenge. I am incredibly sorry for this delay but I had to take a break away from Tumblr and social media in general in order to focus on my mental/physical health & other issues in my private life. Now I think I’m ready to return and create content again. As for the story, I hope you like it. This is my first attempt at a love triangle. Important: does not include Wincest so it’s safe to read for anyone who’s not into that. Also, I inserted a ‘Keep reading’ line, I hope it’s visible.

Summary: The British Men of Letters try a new approach to acquire the Winchesters’ cooperation, which leads to heartbreaking revelations.

Warnings: cursing, bloodshed, mentions of sex, character death

Word count: 2.750-ish

* Moodboard is mine, pictures used are not.

You gain consciousness to two male voices calling your name frantically.

“She’s opening her eyes, Sam! She’s alright… Look!” the hoarse baritone belonging to the elder Winchester reassures his brother a second after your eyelashes have started fluttering.

“Well, that’s the overstatement of the year, Dean… Let’s just say I’ll live.” you grumble once you fully come around. “What the hell?!”

Usually you’re more eloquent than that but at the moment it’s the best you can muster, considering that you’ve awakened in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse and all three of you are handcuffed to uncomfortable metal chairs organized in a neat triangle, facing each other. The only source of light are a few flickering candles placed on a table nearby.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, babe.” your long-term boyfriend Sam replies in a soothing tone.

His handsome face seems intact – minus a couple of scars he obtained in previous fights – so being ambushed is crossed off the list of possible explanations on what happened and how you got here. Maybe you were drugged? If yes… by whom? The things that go bump in the night prey upon their enemies and slash their throats open, not abduct them.

A heavy silence falls on the place, only the crackle of the candle flames can be heard.

You have no idea how much time has passed – it could’ve been an eternity as well as ten minutes – when suddenly a consecutive knocking sound fills your auditory canals.

“Are those… are those high heels?” you ask aloud incredulously.

“Louboutin’s to be exact, my dear.”

Every head snaps to the accent’s direction just in time to see an elegantly dressed slender woman step into the candle-lit area.

“But excuse my manners… talking about fashion before introducing myself? How rude of me. I’m Lady Toni Bevell on behalf of the British Men of Letters.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Dean growls “You know, here in America no means no, Lady! We’ve already told your stupid little boyband to fuck off. We’re not here to do their bidding, we’re here to save lives.”

“So I’ve heard.” She nods in understanding. “But yet, we’d still like to gather some information, one way or another.”

She walks over to the table and unfolds a neatly wrapped package, revealing a knife. Suddenly, Sam’s sarcastic chuckle fills the place.

“And you think you can get us to spill by torturing? Seriously?”

A predatory smile spreads across Toni’s face as she casually picks up the weapon of her choice.

“I was thinking about playing a game that may involve torture. It’s up to you whether it does or does not.”

“What game?” you ask suspiciously.

“I’d like to call it Truth or Cut. Maybe Truth or Stab, depending on the importance of the information you intend to withhold. The rules are the following… I ask something and if you reply, that equals truth, and nothing will happen. If you do not wish to answer, just say cut and I’ll sink my knife into your flesh.”

“You’re crazy!” Sam exhales in disbelief.

“Thank you, Sam! I’m going to take that as a compliment. And since we are already engaged in a conversation, let’s start with you.” She walks to the center of the triangle to face the younger Winchester. “I’d like you to give me the names of American hunters you consider the best.”

Sam leans a bit forward, his face is unreadable.

“Bite me!” he hisses through gritted teeth. “I’m not gonna participate in your psychotic game. You can’t make me.”

Toni flashes a dangerous smile once more.

“Are you sure about that?”

She slowly walks behind your chair and places the blade under your right collar bone.

“If you refuse to pick either truth or cut, your loved ones will pay the price for it, big guy.”

Sam’s eyes search yours for confirmation of the next step and you nod.

“You’re bluffing.” He counters Toni.

The next second you feel the metal pressed against you slash into soft skin and you can’t suppress a loud grunt of pain. Blood starts oozing from the wound and your white tank top soon begins to acquire a shade of crimson.

The brothers yell ‘No!’ in unison, then Dean delivers an impressive selection of curse words – sneaking in some that were new even to you.

Toni strolls over to Sam.

“Now I ask again. Name the best American hunters you know.”

“Cut.” Sam responds in a tone just above whisper. He soundlessly flinches when the woman draws blood by sliding the blade across his left forearm.

“Alright… Who wants to be next? Perhaps Dean? List all the places where we can find extensive knowledge on the supernatural, not counting the Man of Letters safe houses of course.”

Dean’s gaze meets Toni’s and for a second you think you can see her confidence falter because of the deadly rage and utter disdain that radiates from the hunter, but she soon regains composure.

“So? Is it truth or cut, Dean? You know what will happen if you refuse to choose.”

“Cut!” he emphasizes the t at the end.

You’re next and you pick cut as well. Then the cycle starts all over again...

You’ve made three rounds without anyone breaking and giving Toni what she wants, which visibly annoys her.

“Let’s shake things up a bit by changing the topics, shall we?” she announces out of the blue, making all of you knit your brows.

Spinning around on her heels, she turns to Sam.

“Sam! Did you manage to decide where you want to propose to Y/N? In my personal opinion the place where you said your first I love you-s is more romantic than the place where you first met, but that’s just plain old me.”

Sam’s eyes widen in shock, reflecting your own facial expression.

“Sam? What is she talking about?” you question in a thin voice, perplexed.

A shy, boyish smile appears on his face as he looks deep into your eyes, reminding you of the very first time you’ve seen him.

“Uh, yeah. She’s right. Although I have no idea how she knows this, but I did indeed plan on proposing to you at one of those places, probably where we met… up until now. Now I have to come up with something else I guess.”

A mixture of emotions floods your heart, making you undecisive what to say first. You finally open your mouth to speak but before a sound can escape, Toni directs the next question to Dean.

“Alright, that was a truth, so no cuts. Now, Dean! I am certain she will not get offended so you can tell me honestly… Is Y/N a good kisser?”

“How would I know?” he asks back, lacking any hesitation. “I think you’re mistaking me with Sam, her boyfriend. You know, the tall guy whose proposal you’ve just ruined? Next time you play this game with someone, have your facts checked first, Suit pants.”

The confusion on Sam’s face slowly starts to fade away, but Toni presses on relentlessly.

“Oh, Dean... That was a very convincing performance! But, unfortunately for you, I did have my facts checked. And according to these facts, you and Y/N locked lips passionately just two years ago, in 2015. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Everybody’s eyes are on you waiting for your reaction, and you can’t help but reminisce about the event in question.

You were having a hard time finding the key for the motel room you were renting - courtesy of the bottle of bourbon you’d consumed earlier. All those keys on the chain looked the same and neither of them seemed to fit into the lock, let alone open the damn door… In addition to that, the world slowly started spinning and you had to prop yourself against the doorframe to prevent an ugly fall.

“Need a hand there, Sweetheart?”

Your heart skipped a beat from the scare but soon calmness washed over you as you identified the person. You could recognize that husky voice anywhere, intoxicated or not.

“Dean Winchester!” you exclaimed, turning around to find him leaning against your car you’d parked near the doorway. “The world’s deadliest hunter and mightiest panty dropper turned hell’s cruelest demon! To what do I owe this pleasure? Considering that you’ve gone out of your way to ignore both me and Sam in the past couple of months.”

He leisurely pushed himself from the car and started walking towards you.

“I needed a breath of fresh air, that’s all. But speaking of whom… where’s Sam?”

He almost left no distance between your bodies when he finally stopped. What was he doing? If he wanted to kill you, he probably would’ve done it already…

“I don’t know. Why don’t you give him a call, huh? Ask him how he’s doing? You could make him the happiest man alive…” you replied with a bitter undertone.

A shit-eating grin formed on Dean’s handsome face.

“Uh-oh. Is there trouble in paradise?”

“Shut it, Dean! It’s really none of your business.” You said, crossing your arms and averting your gaze.

His comment hit a nerve – you both knew that – but the last thing on Earth you wanted to do was discussing your relationship crisis with him. If you still had a relationship, that is.

To much of your surprise, the next second he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him and pressed his lips against yours. It felt terribly wrong but incredibly right at the same time… It took you half a minute to gather all your willpower and push him away.

“Y/N? Is it true?” Sam’s voice brings you back to reality.

Tears start dwelling up in your eyes, providing a wordless answer. He swallows hard.

“Why?”

“It’s all my fault, okay?” Dean speaks up as you’re clearly unable to form a coherent sentence. “I kissed her, man. It happened when I was a demon… I figured if I kissed her, I’d piss you off enough to leave me alone. Besides, she was totally hammered and still pushed me away.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Dean?!”

“I don’t know… a little, maybe?”

Sam scoffs then all of a sudden realization hits him.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“What?”

“Is my girlfriend a good kisser?”

Both you and Dean stare at him in shock.

“C’mon man, you can’t seriously want me to answer that…” Dean attempts to change the subject but doesn’t succeed. Sam’s stare makes it obvious he won’t let this one slide. He won’t let go until he hears the truth no matter how unpleasant it may be.

“Yes.” Dean blurts out. “She’s a good kisser. In fact, she’s one of the best kissers I’ve ever encountered in my entire life. Happy now?”

The only response is a nod.

“Oh wow…” Toni lets out an excited sigh. “Changing the topic was the best idea ever, don’t you agree? Now, let’s move on to Y/N. She’ll get the most interesting question in my repertoire.”

She slowly walks over to you, her Louboutin’s menacingly tap against the concrete every step of the way. She crouches down, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and asks the most ruthless question in the sweetest voice.

“Which one of the Winchester brothers is better in bed?”

The tears you’ve been holding back for quite some time now break free and roll down your cheeks swiftly.

“I mean, it’s not entirely true what Dean said, now is it? You did push him away but then you pulled him back...”

Complete silence ensues and you swear you can hear three hearts break if you listen closely.

You were standing there more confused than ever. What the hell was Dean doing?! Was this a long time coming or was he playing some sort of a game? Either way… If you were sober, you most certainly would’ve punched him in the mouth. But due to your condition – or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself ever since – you pulled him back and kissed him there instead. The part of how you got inside the room was a blur, but soon enough you found yourself tangled up with him in the sheets. Torn clothes peppered the floor, a smell of bourbon lingered in the air and Dean treated you as if you were the single, most important person in the entire universe. You truly thought you’d never been happier – then came the morning and shattered everything to a thousand pieces.

“You know, to encourage picking truth regarding this question, I am going to tell you something you yourself may not even be aware of, Y/N.” Toni breaks the silence. “There is something else that’s not true in what Dean said. He did not spend that night with you just to piss Sam off… He’s been attracted to you ever since you’ve met and being a demon allowed him to shamelessly do something about it.”

You whisper ‘Cut’ as a reply and Toni’s face hardens.

“Oh, honey… withholding this information is worth a stab.”

Before you can comprehend her words, she swings the knife and it ends up in your right thigh. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this much blood come from a stab wound… Both Winchester men yell in protest, but their voices become distant as you slowly slip into unconsciousness.

Mary and Castiel tracked down your location and arrived just in time. You almost bled to death, but the angel managed to heal the wound. For a while you wished he didn’t.

Three weeks later you’re sitting in your car at an abandoned gas station. About fifteen minutes after your arrival, a black SUV parks near you. You limp to the vehicle and tear its door open, barely containing your fury.

“What the fuck was that, Toni?!” you question while getting in and pointing a gun at her.

She glances at the weapon then looks you in the eye.

“Is that necessary?”

You cock the gun in response.

“Alright. So, as you know, the management decided that you delivering information to us about the Winchesters is not enough anymore.”

“Yes, that’s why you’ve contacted them directly, I know.”

“Correct. But since they refused to cooperate, the management came up with a plan of disrupting their unity. This way it’s just a matter of time and one of them will be knocking on our door. I suspect it will be Sam.”

A bitter laugh escapes you lips.

“So that’s what this was? A disruption of unity? Really?! And why didn’t I know of this, huh?”

“We needed your reactions to be genuine.”

“God, you’re a bunch of psychopaths… You know what, I’m not gonna do this anymore. I quit.”

She lets out a loud scoff.

“Please… what are you going to tell them? Furthermore, how do you think they will react when they learn that the love of their lives is a snitch?”

You let your gun down.

“I’ll make sure they know why I became a snitch... I’ll make sure they know how I made a crossroad’s deal years ago to save them both. I’ll make sure they know how you offered to delay the hellhounds in exchange for some information every now and then. I have no idea how they’ll react, but maybe someday they’ll understand and find it in their hearts to forgive me.”

Toni stares daggers at you.

“I suggest you think this through carefully, Y/N, as we still hold your deal. One bad move and the hellhounds will come and get you. No more delaying.”

You flash her the biggest smile you can summon.

“Well, it’s been a while since the last time I played with puppies from the pit… I think I’m ready.”

Not waiting for her reaction, you get out of the car and start limping back to yours. By the time you get in, Toni is gone.

You’re all alone.

Well, not entirely alone to be fair.

The grumbling hellhounds in your backseat keep you company.

You take your phone out of your pocket avoiding any sudden movements and type a quick message to the Winchesters:

‘My nightstand, second drawer.’

Toni thought she could prevent you from exposing the truth by taking action quickly, but she wasn’t paying attention. You never said you were gonna tell them everything. You said you would make sure they know. And the detailed farewell letters you left for them in your drawer will serve the purpose well.

#nicolesalphabetangstfor8k #dontshootmespence #dean winchster x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #Sam Winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural #SPN #spn fanfiction #sam x reader #dean x reader #sam x reader x dean

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lover-of-skellies · 4 years ago

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Door 3

You swallowed back your feelings of uncertainty, carefully approaching the door that had gained your attention. You knocked, then waited for a response, only to receive none. As bad as you felt for invading the riders' privacy like this, your curiosity propelled you forward anyway, and soon enough, you found your hand grasping the knob. Giving a gentle twist and nudging the door open just enough to peek inside, you called out, announcing your presence and asking for permission to come in. Once again though, there was none.

Your shoulders sank a bit in defeat and you furrowed your brows; you'd come all this way, your curiosity and determination to get to know each of the riders driving you. Chewing on your bottom lip, you silently contemplated your options for a moment, deciding against simply walking away. You were going to enter anyway, and you were going to look around. As long as you weren't digging through the dresser or rifling through papers, you'd be forgiven... right?

[You selected: Door 3]

Now entering: Pestilence's room

~~~

Carefully pushing the door open and inviting yourself inside, you paused to flick on the overhead light before nudging the door shut behind yourself again. Glancing around the room, you arched a brow, taking in your new surroundings; the bed, as you'd been expecting, wasn't made. The sheets and blankets were pushed down toward the end of the bed and bunched up, and the small stack of pillows even laid carelessly strewn about.

Approaching the bed, your eyes settled on a small picture frame that occupied the bedside table. Delicately picking the item up, you furrowed your brows and frowned; in the photo was a set of brothers. One was tall and lanky, sporting a brilliant crimson scarf and a bright smile, while the other was short and appeared to be a bit rounder. He was clad in a pair of untied tennis shoes, basketball shorts, and a baggy hoodie, all worn beneath a long, oversized lab coat. A pair of large and thin glasses with circular frames were taped onto his skull and his grin was more lazy, almost making him appear tired.

The top drawer of his bedside table was open the smallest bit, and gripped by curiosity, you set down the picture of the brothers in favor of tugging open the drawer. Neatly folded and tucked inside was a bundle of red fabric, which was nearly identical to the shade of the taller brother's scarf that you'd seen in the photo. Reaching out, you gently traced your fingers over it, taking in how soft it felt. As you pulled your hand away, however, you became aware of the dust that now clung to your skin. Knowing the significance of dust, your eyes widened and you hurriedly pushed the drawer shut, attempting to brush the dust off of your hand.

Feeling satisfied after a moment and taking a few seconds to calm yourself, you let out a deep breath, glancing around the room again. Clothes had been scattered across his floor, and you were unsure if they were supposed to be clean or dirty. Not wanting to touch the potentially dirty clothes, you stepped around them, crossing the room to look at some books that lined a shelf.

The books were sparse and some laid on their sides, but from the looks of it, they were mostly joke books, books on a variety of science stuff, and books filled with puzzles and word games. You didn't take Pestilence as the type who liked reading, so finding a collection of books in his room was a bit of a surprise.

On the floor next to the bookshelf was a chest, and you tilted your head, squatting and leaning closer to get a better look at it. There was a series of locks lining the front, meaning you wouldn't be able to see what it contained. Damnit. The curiosity would eat you alive, and you already knew it.

Standing again, you approached the rider's desk. A small lamp occupied the corner, and a decent amount of papers, pencils, and pens laid scattered across the surface. A ruler and eraser also laid atop the desk, over top the corners of what looked like a blueprint for some sort of device. Your eyebrows became knit in confusion; just what was the device? What was it supposed to do?

On an attached shelf was a thick, heavy looking book. Humming softly, you gingerly lifted it, lying it on the desk and flipping to a random page, finding numerous pictures filling plastic sleeves. The first one to catch your attention was of a skeleton in thick, bulky sunglasses. He wore a large, goofy grin, showing off a single gold tooth while his arm was around the shoulders of a rather... irritated water elemental. On the next page was a photo of a purple clad skeleton with heart shaped eye lights, his arms around another skeleton who was covered in errors and glitches, a scowl fixed on his face. You flipped several pages ahead, stopping as a picture of a pair of humans appeared.

There was a girl with medium length, bright blue hair. Her wide grey eyes were lined with dark makeup and her rather pale face was flushed pink as a boy standing beside her pressed a kiss to her cheek. The boy had a tanned complexion, his face also flushed. A pair of large, square glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, messy dark hair curling in every direction atop his head. They were cute together, but you weren't sure you knew who they were.

A rat scurried past you and squeaked, and you jumped, your entire body jolting in surprise. Processing that it was only a rat, you let out a deep sigh, trying to calm your racing your. It was just a rat. Nothing to be worried about. It's not like Pest was back already-

From behind you, someone cleared their throat, and you mentally cursed at yourself. Slowly withdrawing your hand from the photo album, you reluctantly turned to face its owner, who stared at you with a raised brow bone and a hand on his hip. He tilted his head, his tone completely even and calm, "So. Is there any particular reason why you're in my room, going through my old pictures?"

You began attempting to explain what was going on, telling the skeleton that you'd come here because you were curious about him and only wanted to learn about him more. That you'd come such a long way and didn't think you could simply leave when you found the room empty.

His gaze was locked on you as he slowly nodded, processing what he'd been told, "So let me get this straight... You let yourself in and started rifling through my stuff, because you wanted to get to know me better?" Fully aware of how bad that sounded, you made a sound of confirmation, practically radiating guilt as you admitted that you should've just gone away and come back some other time. He hummed in agreement, "Yeah, you should've. It's awfully rude of you to go invading people's privacy like this. Makes me almost kinda wanna go to your house and go through everything in your room, just so you can see how uncool it is."

You hung your head in shame, silent for a moment before you all but hurled yourself in his direction, wrapping your arms around him. Pulling him into a tight hug, you began to apologize profusely, and working past his momentary shock, he sighed, awkwardly returning the hug and patting your back, "Hey, hey, dude, cut it out. I don't appreciate the invasion of privacy, but I'm not gonna strike you dead or anything. Just... this is a warning, I guess. All I ask is that you don't do this again."

You agreed not to let yourself into his room again without permission and he pulled away from the hug, reaching up into his other sleeve to dig into a pouch, withdrawing a vial of the antidote to his touch. He offered it to you and you eagerly accepted it, quickly uncapping the vial and gulping down the bittersweet contents. Returning the empty vial, you thanked him, and then turned to begin walking toward the door.

You briefly paused, your hand curling around the knob as you turned to glance at him, saying your goodbyes. Having already removed his sash and belt, he tugged his hoodie off, a bulky, beaded necklace around his neck. In its design, you wondered if the necklace was made by a child. Pestilence made a soft sound of acknowledgement, returning the goodbyes.

Tugging the door open and exiting the room, you gently shut the door behind yourself. You hadn't expected him to show up so suddenly, and when he had, you thought he would've infected you on the spot as punishment of some sort. The fact that he kept his distance and then even gave you an antidote was mildly surprising, and you made a mental note to thank him again later.

#writing #undertale #undertale au #four horsemen of the apocalypse #riders of the apocalypse #pestilence.exe #room exploration

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kururu418 · 4 years ago

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Asterope

Name: Asterope

Age: Ageless (Appears 17)

Gender: Female

Pantheon: Greek

Appearance: A young woman with long spiky bleach blonde hair, yellow eyes, fair skin, and often had small sparks going off around her body. She wears a wreath with a blue lightning bolt design on her head, a toga, sandals, and a often has a scarf made of clouds around her arms and shoulders that will change depending on her mood.

Background: Asterope is the youngest among Zeus countless children, and seems to be growing into the most powerful. From a young age she showed great potential, displaying all of her father’s abilities and powers. She is the only one among her siblings able to properly wield her fathers famed weapons, Thunder and Lightning. Everyone thought that with her father stepping down at the leader of Olympus, and the previous Hera gone, she was a sure pick to become the new head of the Pantheon.

Unfortunately for her, after the current Hera fell to Aku and was brought back as a goddess, Oberon supported her claim as leader instead, believing that she (and her father) were too arrogant and needed to be humbled. While this irked her, she didn’t put up much of a fuss, instead choosing to bide her time until she could take control and prove to everyone who the rightful ruler of Olympus should be.

When she hears about Typhon’s son being on Earth, she hoped it would lead to Hera’s downfall. But after her father manages to finesse an agreement with Oberon and puts a hit on him, she sees a much simpler opportunity. She intends to take the young titans head, and then use the favor from Oberon to have Hera removed and take her rightful place as the new leader of the Greek Pantheon.

Personality: Asterope is usually very confident, laid back, and haughty. With her being the most powerful offspring of one of the most powerful gods on Earth, she has little to fear and tends to look down on those around her. She believes that it is her divine right to lead, act, and do as she pleases. And she is more than willing to casually smite down anyone who would defy her.

She tends to spend most of her time lounging around and being waited on by her servants. Occasionally she will find ways to kill her boredom, whether it be humiliating her servants or hunting beasts (or people). She is somewhat sadistic, preferring to toy with her enemies before finishing them off just to show them how much more superior she is to them. If she gets too bored she’s not beyond falling asleep in the middle of a fight, both to pass time and rub salt in the wound to her opponents. She becomes angry when someone doesn’t play along with her games, and equally so when her prey doesn’t break quickly enough.

She has a very black and white view about her status and position. That she’s the strongest and most capable, and therefore the best suited to rule. If anyone aside from those she considered her betters (her father, Oberon, etc) disagrees, they’re wrong by default. She believes that as a goddess she shouldn’t be questioned or challenged, and expects her servants to follow orders without delay, unless they want to face her divine punishment.

Powers and Abilities: As the daughter of Zeus, Asterope is able to control and manipulate thunder, lightning, wind, and rain. She typically only uses the first two in combat, but will use the others to alter the terrain to her advantage. Typically she will call down lighting to to strike whoever is opposing her (she typically tones her power back so she can see how many times she can strike them before killing them)

She uses thunder to blast enemies, not only hitting them with devastating force, but affecting their hearing as well. She uses wind to boost fly and boost herself, and rain to allow her lightning to affect more of the area around her. When she gets serious, she will charge herself with lightning, increasing her speed, power, and durability.

She can summon clouds around the battlefield to strike her enemies with lightening or rain down or boom thunder at them. But her most threatening ability is her power to turn into lightning itself, moving at blinding speed and too fast for most to even keep up. While she can’t properly use her other abilities in this form, she is able to move through people, usually striking them in the heart for a killing blow.

Relationships (if any):

Zeus: Her father felt immediate pride at how strong his daughter was from birth, and spoiled her every chance she got. He constantly told her how she was “A child worthy to be his true heir”. He is one of the only people who she’ll listen to or heed advice from, and genuinely respects and cares for him. She intends to do his name justice among the realms of the gods by usurping Hera and reminding everyone their line is truly in charge.

Hera: She has a strong dislike for Hera, believing that someone who once had “The stench of mortality” is unfit to lead gods like her. While she doesn’t directly go against her rules, she openly speaks out and against her whenever they’re among the other gods. Once she takes control of the Pantheon, she intends to give her a lower ranking position to reflect her “true status”.

Servants: She treats most of her servants as just that, servants. But a select few, the ones who are the strongest among them and perform her bidding, warrant her respect and are the closest thing she has to friends. She considered them hers, and is personality insulted when someone strikes them down.

Brontes: Her giant pet eagle who is often seen lounging around with her. She pampers it and treats it better than most people. It’s immortal and a divine beast. It was hatched and mothered from the same eagle that ate the liver of Prometheus.

Quotes:

Asterope smiled as she walked past Hera, who didn’t look at all pleased. “Enjoy your precious last few hours as the Supreme Goddess of this Pantheon Hera. Once they're over, I assure you I will be making some long needed changes…”

~~~~

“I’m not sure you quite understand how to use these words. I’m a god, and the greatest among my pantheons at that. Barring my father and Oberon himself, there are none who have the right to question my might,” she said, pointing towards her opponents. “Know your place mortal, and respect mine. Or be stuck down like the ant you are.”

~~~~

“My, aren’t you a sturdy one. But that’s alright. I do so love playing with my prey. I wonder just how many strikes it will take to fell you,” she said, raising her hand up and pointing her finger in the air. The clouds darkened, and sparks could be seen crackling through the air. “Don’t give out on me too quickly.”

~~~~

Trivia: Asterope’s personality is partly based off of Enel from One Piece.

One of the major antagonist I have planned for the next arc! A daughter of Zeus! Like the other contest I thought it’d be a good idea to show a example of a bio and... I just wanted to drop a sneak peak. Hope you guys enjoy!

#tales of mewni #tales of mewni contest #asterope #character bio

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ninzied · 5 years ago

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things you said when you were crying

for @fortysevenswrites. [ao3]

The first time Frank brings Karen over to the Liebermans’ for Friday night dinner, he could swear David’s eyes almost pop out of his goddamn skull. Sarah is more discreet – if you can call that discreet when she pours out twice as much wine for Frank and Karen, while leaving a more modest-sized glass for herself.

The kids, at least, act more normal about it.

Of course, there’s nothing normal, exactly, about how Frank had come into their lives. But in the last few months since he started coming over with some regularity, they’ve fallen into a routine that feels like the closest to normal – the closest to family – that Frank’s ever going to get.

And then, Karen.

He doesn’t know what he and Karen are. All he knows is what Karen means to him, and for now, that’s enough. The last thing he wants is to fuck it all up. There’s no rush – only that sensation of the floor bottoming out when she looks at him a certain way, or that slip of warmth in his chest when he says something that makes her laugh.

The Liebermans let him off the hook for a while. He doesn’t offer them any status updates, and they don’t pry either – much.

“Listen. Frank,” David says to him one Friday, as they’re unloading the dishwasher. Karen and Sarah are upstairs with the kids, picking out the evening’s activities. “As great as we are at board games, you know this doesn’t count as a double date until you ask her out on like a regular date, right?”

Frank picks up a particularly sharp-looking knife and makes a point of drying the edge. “You want to run that by me again?”

“Nope,” says David. “Not at all.”

The kids are rightfully curious about her, but seem satisfied enough when Frank first introduces her to them as “just an old friend of your Uncle Pete’s.”

Leo ends up being especially impressed with Karen’s board game prowess.

“Got a lot of practice growing up,” Karen explains to her over Risk one night. “I used to play with my younger brother too, just like you.”

“Cool,” beams Leo. “So how old’s your—”

But Frank clears his throat, and says something about ice cream if they want to take a peek in the freezer. They’re bouncing off into the kitchen faster than he can say mint chocolate chip, and he squeezes Karen’s arm for a second before getting up to join them.

Zach, on his part, seems to go selectively mute whenever Karen’s around. He gets more agitated than usual if a game isn’t going his way, and turns fire engine red whenever Karen offers some kind words of encouragement.

Zach, it appears, has a crush.

“Good,” is all Sarah has to say when Frank mentions his theory to her. “You could use the competition.”

“Get out of here,” he scowls, and doesn’t make the mistake of bringing it up again.

…

But it turns out Zach’s not the one in this family that Frank should’ve been watching out for.

It’s early June, just after school’s let out for the summer. David and Sarah have been making threats about moving their Friday night dinners down to the beach.

“I don’t do the beach,” says Frank.

“What Frank means,” Karen cuts smoothly in, “is that he only owns things that come in black hoodie sizes.”

“Easy enough to fix,” says Sarah, looking sly.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Christ,” mutters Frank, just as Leo’s coming into the kitchen. “Hey, sweetheart. Want to go outside for a bit?”

“Sure!” says Leo, and runs to grab a ball.

Zach’s at some all boys’ camp for the week, so it’s just him and Leo in the front yard, kicking a soccer ball back and forth to each other. It’s not really his thing; he’d grown up with a football practically in his hands at all times, but Leo’s trying out for the team, she tells him, so he’s game for whatever.

As they’re kicking the ball around, she tells him about school, how her favorite classes had gone, what she’s looking forward to with starting a new grade in the fall.

She’s really come into her own this year, he thinks. She’s fierce, and feisty, and it’s maybe more than a little bit terrifying to him, just how much she’s grown.

He can’t look at her these days without thinking of Lisa, and how she would’ve been at this age. But it’s a welcome kind of pain, more of a tender ache in his chest than the thousand-pound weight that he’d gotten so used to carrying alone.

Now, he has the Liebermans. Now he has Karen, and—

Leo’s making a run for the ball when she steps wrong on her ankle – out of the corner of his eye, he sees it twist unnaturally, and then she’s going down with a cry, and Frank’s heart just about stops right there.

He’s by her side in half a second. There’s a rock in the grass that must have tripped up her footing, and he tosses it out of the way before reaching gently down for her ankle.

“It’s okay, shh, shh, shhh. Hey.”

There are actual fucking tears in her eyes, and Frank cannot handle seeing her in any kind of pain. If that rock had been human, he would’ve skinned the thing alive by now.

“It – really – hurts,” she hiccups.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

He carefully examines her ankle.

“Listen, you’re gonna be just fine, all right? Nothing’s broken – it looks like a small sprain. We’ll get some ice on it, once we’re back inside.”

He’s crouched down next to her, pulse still hammering up in his throat somewhere. He’s about to ask her if she wants to try putting some weight on it when he notices her looking up at him shrewdly.

He also notices that she’s no longer crying.

“While I have you here,” she says, in a very different tone, “I have a few questions for you.”

“Shoot,” says Frank, rocking back on his heels and trying to decide whether to laugh or shake his head and sigh. He’s probably going to regret this.

“So, you and your friend. Karen.”

Yeah, he’s definitely going to regret this.

“Are you two, like…hanging out?”

He scrubs a hand over his face and says, “Don’t know what you mean by that.”

“I’m fourteen, not four. I’m not stupid. I know what it looks like when two people—”

“Whoa, okay, okay,” says Frank. He stoops down lower so that they’re level with each other. “Don’t say anything that’s gonna make it hard for me to look your mom in the eye later.”

“Fair enough,” says Leo. Then, after a moment, “So if you’re not…hanging out, then what are you doing?”

Frank lets out a sigh. “Your mom and dad put you up to this?”

“Nope,” says Leo, looking smug. “They’d only wish they had.”

“Yeah, you got that right.”

Leo stretches her legs and gives an experimental roll of her injured ankle. “Just suck it up and buy a swimming suit, okay? It’s not that hard.”

“That so?” Frank muses. “Why does it matter so much to you, anyway?”

Leo shrugs. “When I grow up, I want to be just like Karen.”

“Yeah? I don’t blame you, kid.”

“And I want to be loved the way Dad loves Mom. Or the way that you…well, you know what I’m going to say.”

Frank pulls her into a hug, kissing the top of her head as she snuggles into him for a moment. “You will be, sweetheart. You will.” He ruffles her hair before pulling away. “So it was that obvious, huh.”

“Yep,” says Leo, matter-of-factly. “Well. Except to Zach. You should probably break the news to him, after.”

Frank glances up toward the house, and tries to imagine walking back in there, facing Karen like nothing has changed. For all the Liebermans’ endeavoring, it’s their fourteen-year-old daughter who’s going to be the one that refuses to let him off the hook.

“All right,” he says. “You ready?”

“Are you?”

“Smartass,” says Frank. “Don’t tell your parents I said that.”

Leo laughs. He helps her stand, and she puts a foot gingerly into the grass. “Oh, it’s totally fine now,” she says, and Frank shakes his head, retrieving the ball on their way back inside.

Leo goes to help her mom in the kitchen as Karen walks up to Frank with two cold beers in hand.

“Hey,” he says lowly.

Karen gives him a bemused sort of smile. “…Hey,” she says back. “Drink?”

Frank takes the bottle, just to have something to do with his hands. “Look, I was thinking about the, uh – the beach.”

She’s shaking her head. “Frank, it’s fine. I was only teasing earlier. If you don’t want to go—”

“Actually,” he says, “I was thinking maybe we could. Go. Just the two of us.”

Karen blinks at him, disbelieving. “You’re serious.” Her smile is slow-forming. A sunrise. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Frank feels his heart back up in his throat, for entirely different reasons this time. “Okay.” He holds her gaze a moment longer, and realizes he can’t stop smiling either.

Somewhere, there’s the sound of the table getting readied for dinner, and Karen touches his arm before going to help Sarah set up.

Leo catches his eye from across the kitchen and gives him a double thumbs up. She’s grinning from ear to ear, but schools her features into something more neutral as David walks in with a fresh plate of steaks off the grill.

“Here, Dad,” she says. “Let me get that for you, too.”

Jesus.

“Thanks, hon,” says David, none the wiser.

Frank takes a swig of his beer and goes to help man the grill for a while, wondering how to break the news to the Liebermans that they’ve been raising no less than a teenage assassin in their goddamn home.

#kastle #kastle ff #kastlenetwork #kastledaily

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lotrificationer · 5 years ago

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Wayhaven Week, Day 4 - Thrill/Tranquil

Summary: After saving the Maa-alused, the detective and a certain agent find themselves enjoying the carnival even more than the first time.

Pairing: Nate Sewell/F!Detective (Anya Ivanova)

Warnings: None other than really fluff-filled

Word Count: 947

@otomefandomevents

This one was a big struggle for me, but I guess it came out alright in the end lol it sort of became both thrill and tranquil oopsies

~~~~~

The gentle breeze ruffled his dark brown hair. The faint glow of the carnival lights danced across his tanned skin. The gleaming stars reflected in his eyes. Eyes that were currently trained on hers. His hand skimmed up her arm and she shivered. Whether it was because of the chill in the air or the effect he had on her, she was not sure. His hand moved further up to cradle her face, turning her shiver into a warmth that she rather enjoyed. She smiled at him, a slow, heartfelt smile that seemed to melt him on the spot. He leaned in. His hand shifted to the back of her head, finding no resistance in drawing her closer. Closer. As their lips met, she could feel how his reverence for her fought against his sheer hunger for her. She felt the same way. Like a well-rehearsed dance, their lips moved in tandem. She found her own hands sliding up his torso to settle on the back of his neck. She slid a hand through the back of his short hair, eliciting a nearly imperceptible moan that rumbled in his chest.

Without warning, the Ferris wheel jolted to life again as they began to descend from their lofty position amongst the stars. The surprise split the kiss and they began to laugh as they both took in each other’s disheveled appearances.

“All I can say is,” Anya started, her grin still ever-present. “I’m glad it wasn’t one of the other teammates interrupting us for once.”

Nate huffed out a laugh as the ride returned to the ground. He got off and turned to offer Anya a hand that she gladly took. Now hand in hand, they meandered through the rest of the carnival, enjoying the sights and the games. Although, she could admittedly confess that his close, unabashed company was far more thrilling than any spectacle the carnival had to offer. Her heart felt so full.

They made their way over to the carousel, eager to give it a try as they had missed out on it the last time. They stood in line and like most other attractions, it brimmed with energy. As Nate sat on the bench-like seat, Anya threw him a quizzical look.

“What’s that face for?” Nate inquired, completely baffled.

“You’re telling me that you will get on a carousel and instead of picking one of these super cool little funky creatures,” she gestured to the metal beasts around her. “You would rather sit on something that you could literally find anywhere else?”

A toothy grin spread across his face. “Hey, I was just trying to find one where we could sit together!”

“Don’t try to limit me, Agent Sewell,” she narrowed her eyes at him, hands defiantly placed on her hips.

He rose from his seat and closed the gap between them, their chests nearly touching with every breath. His grin gave way to a smirk as he looked down at her.

“Alright then, Detective Ivanova,” Nate smiled, mischief lacing his voice. “Where would you like to sit?”

She tried to return his teasing smirk, but it quickly turned into a blushing smile. Turning from his gaze, she scanned the carousel and selected a new ride. Before she could take a seat, Nate slipped onto the beast and scooted back slightly. Quirking his head towards Anya, she could see how the playfulness danced in his eyes. He motioned to the small space in front of him.

“Your ride, madame,” he purred, eyes never leaving her own. She laughed as her smile and blush grew.

“I assure you, it is the best seat in the house,” he added.

“If you insist, agent,” she happily yielded, slipping a leg over to settle in front of him. Well, barely in front of him. As it was, she was practically in his lap, immediately enveloped in his warmth. She wasn’t even certain that this was allowed, but no one tried to stop them. She decided not to worry about it and simply enjoy the moment.

As the carousel came to life, she wrapped her hands around the decorative pole as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Leaning forward, he rested his chin on her shoulder and tilted his head to look at her. As he sighed, his warm breath tickled her cheek.

“Having fun back there?” She teased, glancing at him.

“As much fun as you’re having, I suspect,” the smile evident in his tone. “If your heartbeat is anything to go by, that is.”

She laughed and relaxed further in his embrace. They enjoyed the rest of the carousel in a pleasant silence, watching as the rest of the carnival bustled about with energy. Every so often, they would catch each other’s gaze and her heart would stand still. As the ride slowed to a stop, Nate kept his arms around her. She was reluctant to leave as well. Eventually he released her and helped her out of his lap.

“Well, agent, should I ever be in ah- need of another… ride,” she bit her lip to stave off the smile that crept up. “I’ll certainly let you know.”

He raised an eyebrow as the corner of his mouth slid upwards. “I would be more than happy to fulfill any need you might have, detective.”

Her smile broke free at his counter remark and he returned it in full as they left the carousel. He slipped his arm over her shoulders and she wrapped her arm around his waist, contentedly leaning into his affection. They perused the rest of the carnival wrapped in each other’s arms as the tranquility of the night guided their steps.

#wayhaven week 2020 #the wayhaven chronicles #twc #wayhaven chronicles #n sewell #Nate Sewell #f!detective #my writing

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harianadimples · 5 years ago

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Have You Heard of That New Mario Kart Game?

Warning: none 1.8k+: fluff, famous!harry, university student!y/n, domestic life of two odd balls

+ Mario Kart Tour has become the bane of my existence

| – | – | – |

It’s now an hour until midnight and her paper looks somewhat decent. She thinks. She’s made it through 1,397 words of her 2,000 word essay, so she figures she can grant herself a short break to see what’s making Harry shout like a mad man while she gets another snack.

She travels down the hall, carrying an empty white bowl now stained by the blueberries that were in it earlier, and into the living room where she finds Harry sitting hunched over his phone. His hair is sticking up in different directions.

“Fucking finally!” He suddenly yells, rolling backwards while pumping his fist and phone in the air before sitting forward again. He returns to being stiff as a nail, concentrating heavily on his phone.

“Your back will hurt later if you stay hunched over like that,” Y/N says as she enters their kitchen.

“S’already hurting but don’t care. I finally got the hang of this,” he mutters from the other room before yelling in celebratory fashion.

“Of what?” Y/N asks.

“Have you heard of that new Mario Kart game?”

The one where Harry plays Mario Kart Tour and slowly loses his mind while Y/N watches and it’s pure domestic!fluff involving Mario Kart, adulting, a tower fan: the obvious necessities of a loving, healthy, relationship

-:-:-:-

“God fucking damn it!”

Y/N looks up from her laptop towards the door. “Bubba? You alright?” She asks and waits for a response. When she doesn’t hear one she shrugs it off, thinking Harry probably sorted it out.

Several minutes later she hears him yell again. “No! Drift! Drift- Not that way- fuck-.” His voice carries into the room, muffled by the door and the distance, but she can make out the genuine distress he’s in.

Y/N checks the time. She’d been working on her paper for her gothic literature class since she arrived that afternoon (give or take the few hours she spent procrastinating) and had fallen into a steady zone of writing when Harry arrived just before seven. He’d spent his off day with Alexander, part of his London group of friends, to see some exhibit being showcased downtown. Y/N would have gone had she not had a paper due online at midnight, and knowing her habits and writing process she’d need the rest of the night to get it done.

However, she didn’t chalk up Harry to be a distraction. She had marooned Harry to the rest of the house while she hid away in their bedroom, yet that didn’t seem to matter at the moment. Last she saw of him was during one of her breaks to get herself a snack and a drink. He was lounging in their living room with his phone and laptop out, probably on a meeting call and answering e-mails. That was two hours ago.

“Your back will hurt later if you stay hunched over like that,” Y/N says as she enters their kitchen.

“S’already hurting but don’t care. I finally got the hang of this,” he mutters from the other room before yelling in celebratory fashion.

“Of what?” Y/N asks.

“Have you heard of that new Mario Kart game?”

“I saw it trending on Twitter. I haven’t gotten the chance to play yet. It looks interesting,” she shrugs, popping a blueberry in her mouth.

“Don’t bother, it sucks,” Harry huffs. “The controls are stupid on this mobile version. It’s hard to steer and drift. I prefer playing on the perfectly good Switch we own. I also think it’s kind of stupid that you have to play vertically. Makes no sense to me.”

Y/N hums thoughtfully as she carries her blueberries over to Harry. She wants to see what he’s fussing over, so she motions for him to start the next map so she can watch. While he’s making his character and car selections his lips part. As a reflex she pushes a blueberry into his open mouth. “Thanks bubba,” he says as he chews on the fruit. “Do you see this garbage?” He asks with a tone that questions the sanctity of the game with so much intent that she has to laugh.

“Wow, you really hate this game, huh,” she says, amused by how affected he seemed.

“It’s really no offence to the developers, but this game is already great played on a console. Why ruin it by turning it into a cash-grabbing mobile game?” Harry sighs.

“That’s just the gaming business nowadays, I guess,” Y/N shrugs. “Is there even a multiplayer option? I might download it so I can kick your ass on a different version as well.”

“It’s implied that it’s still in development. Probably won’t be playing it again any time soon, so it doesn’t matter,” he replies, “also, you only win because you wanna talk about the future of humanity and shit whenever we play, distracting me.”

“I’ll play you again when I finish my paper, and when I kick your ass again in total silence you can whine about it while you wash the dishes.”

“Unless I kick your ass. Then I expect a night’s sleep with the fan off.”

“You know I need the fan on or else I can’t sleep,” Y/N pouts as Harry grins stupidly. “Then you should hope you kick my ass then,” he says.

“Oh I will. I’m gonna go finish up my paper,” Y/N sighs, giving Harry a quick kiss before retreating back to their room.

-:-

Y/N joined Harry in the living room at around 11:45 p.m. She submitted her paper online and printed out a hard copy to bring to class the next day which she stapled and placed with her laptop so she didn’t forget.

Her and Harry played ten rounds of Mario Kart on their switch (should have been five but Harry threw a tantrum when he lost three games in a row). Still, Y/N came out as the definitive winner having won six rounds against Harry.

While Harry washed the dishes she went ahead and got ready for bed. She downloaded the Mario Kart game on her phone while doing her skin care and got herself started in between steps. The game didn’t seem so bad so far but she could see where Harry’s complaints were coming from. She wondered if there was any way to fix the steering and drifting in the settings to give her more control. Luckily there was and she quickly did that.

“This map is so hard,” Y/N mutters. She’s been lying in bed, sitting upright against the pillows having played a few maps now. Harry eventually enters the room appearing tired but relatively content. She’s stuck on a map and was tilting her phone and trying to drift to pull ahead of her opponents.

Harry, understandingly, looked confused.

“That doesn’t actually help, you know,” Harry says pointedly. He begins to get ready for bed while watching Y/N flail around. It amuses him to the point of laughing while planting half of himself on her to see what place she’s in.

“I changed the settings so you steer by tilting your phone and you tap to drift. It’s loads easier for me now,” she tells him as she tilts her phone on a hard left turn. She accidentally bumps Harry’s cheek with her elbow. “Oh- shit- sorry,” she apologizes over each abrupt motion she makes.

Harry chuckles and pays no more mind to her jerking motions and continues to lay his head in her lap to watch her play. The fan is on pointed directly on Y/N the way she likes it, and truthfully feels quite nice on his face. He never liked the white noise of the fan running in his sleep and his exposed feet tended to get the butt-end of their deal, but he let her have this one thing figuring it’s gotten her to stay around for this long.

-:-

The following morning Y/N gets ready for class. She makes sure she’s got everything in her bag: pens, her notebook, her laptop and chargers. She puts her essay in with her laptop and zips up her bag.

Harry is snoring quietly behind her, wrapped up in a white faux fur throw blanket with his face buried between two pillows. The fan blows in his direction, causing his hair to raise with the gusts of wind. He looks peaceful and soft; morning-Harry is her favourite Harry for these reasons. She loves him at his loudest, and at his most charming and talented when he’s being ‘Harry Styles,’ and when he’s at his most neediest, when like a pup he wants nothing more but her love and affection. But morning-Harry meant sleepy-Harry, who’s every bit of the above when he’s groggy with sleep. Only, he’s softer and so precious; Anne says it bests when she talks to Y/N when Harry visits. It’s like he never left home at 16.

They fought hard to make their home what it was. Two years ago when they started dating it was just Harry, and his place felt very much like his place. Then she came into his life and brought a Seville classics tower fan with her. Literally, she got it one summer during a heat wave. Her parent’s home didn’t have working air condition after a faulty maintenance job, so they bought two new fans from Costco. Since then she found it hard to sleep without the fan on her; the gentle breeze was nice and the sound oddly helped her sleep. Harry had his qualms about having the fan on while they slept, but she knew deep down he liked the fan idea too.

Y/N leaves her bag next to the bottom of the stairs while she makes herself a quick breakfast. She eats fast and goes back upstairs to brush her teeth and say good bye to Harry. She enters their room and finds him sitting upright in bed, holding her phone.

“Morning pretty,” she laughs softly, smiling as she presses his hair down and kisses the creases in his forehead.

“Bubba you’re in the way,” he huffs, moving his face out of her hands.

“I’m leaving for class, just gonna brush my teeth then get my phone,” she tells him with an amused grin as she peers down at her phone. “Though you weren’t going to be playing it again any time soon?”

“Yeah,” Harry says as if merely saying so would make the both forget his rage towards the mobile game less than 24 hours ago. “I won first place on a couple maps. You’re welcome,” Harry says pointedly, glancing at her as she enters their bathroom. He hears her laugh while the water runs.

She comes out a few minutes later as Harry completes another map. He hands her phone back. “You can add me as a friend now apparently,” Harry says. “I accepted on your behalf.”

Y/N nods slowly as she looks at her phone. His screen name she assumes (babyhunny) appears under her friends list.

“‘Kay, I gotta go. See you later,” she says, tucking her phone in her back pocket, holding her earphones ready as she leans down to kiss Harry.

“Mhmm, love yeh,” he murmurs into the kiss. “Love you too,” she replies, pecking his lips once more before she heads out the door.

She glances back at Harry and sees that he’s on his phone now, probably playing Mario Kart on it, evidenced by the deep crease in his forehead that reappears and his tongue which pokes out as his gaze focuses on his screen. Y/N shakes her head, grinning as she turns the corner.

| – | – | – |

Hello, it’s been a while. I wrote this completely sleep-deprived at 6am after losing miserably on this one difficult map in Mario Kart Tour. One could say I was projecting..... but, the way this game was brought up to me made me wonder how it’d be talking to Harry about it and I imagined he’d be pretty peeved by the game too but keep playing nonetheless. idk. but i know i wanna (gonna) kick harry’s ass in mario kart someday. when we meet again and become bffs.

Add me if u want [my id: 041377293682]

+ masterlist

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry one shot #harry styles imagine #harry imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles concept #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction #1d fanfic #1d fanfiction #writing

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wordywarriorwrites · 5 years ago

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Chapter 15: Imperfect Union

Masterlist: The Boss of Brooklyn A03 Story Link Author: @wordywarriorwrites Summary: When it comes to being The Boss, James Buchanan “JB” Barnes rules with an iron fist. For him, there’s no room for sentiment, and certainly no time for distraction, even if it is in the form of an old flame. Steve Rogers had bowed out of the life a long time ago, but a twist of fate brings him right back into the fold, and face-to-face with a man he once loved. When a game of cat and mouse turns into a matter of life and death, both will be forced to decide whether they’ll be loyal to the business, or faithful to each other. A/N: Bucky Barnes Mob Boss AU. Stucky. For: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan Star’s Multi-Fandom Follower Celebration with the prompt, “Why did you do it?” & @sherrybaby14 Sherry’s Fall Into You Challenge with the prompt, “Show me. Prove that you can handle me.” Warnings: Language, violence, drug use, alcohol, smoking, explicit sexual content, illegal activities. *Re-blogs are welcome. Plagiarism isn’t. *

Miles of pink sand beaches, palm trees, and the stunning blue-green waters of the Atlantic. Opulent accommodations, accompanied by lavish surroundings, and meticulous Five Diamond service.

There was a lot they needed to accomplish, but they’d all put the business on the back burner because the meet on the South Shore was about more than just settling accounts and signing bottom lines; it was also about mending fences, giving Nick Fury a proper sendoff, and ensuring the torch was passed into safe, capable hands.

Dinner had been set up in one of the resort’s waterfront event rooms, and it would’ve been a stilted affair had everyone not partaken in the generous platters of fresh seafood and imbibed nearly a dozen bottles of Mitcher’s Bourbon Whiskey and Screaming Eagle Sauvignon Blanc.

Wanda, Natasha, and Carol got tipsy, giggled, and gabbed like long-lost pals. Fury, Scott, and Rhodey definitely got drunk, and they somehow persuaded Thor, Clint, and Tony, who were all plastered, to join them for a game of high-stakes poker. To an outsider, it looked like they were a group of friends just blowing off some steam, but in actuality, they were all trying to distract themselves and find their bearings.

Bucky maintained his composure throughout the evening and Steve was just as civil. Though nobody dared to point out the elephant in the room, they were all very well aware that the two of them were not exactly copacetic, and needed to be given a wide berth. Steve chose to occupy himself by making the rounds and chit-chatting. Bucky, on the other hand, opted to hide out on the balcony, and he’d just decided to call it a night when Natasha stepped outside and joined him.

She handed him a fresh drink and gently nudged his shoulder, “You okay?”

Bucky took a sip and shrugged, “Why do you ask?”

“Because you seem worried. And you’ve been eye-balling Steve for the past two hours.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” he countered. “And I’m watching everyone.”

“How about you cut the bullshit and tell me what’s really bothering you?”

He shook his head, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” she shot back.

Bucky turned away from the room and stared out at the view, but the sounds and sights of the waves brought him no comfort this time. If anything, his mind churned even harder than the waters of the ocean, and he wasn’t sure how to explain what he was thinking, let alone how he was feeling.

Steve had only returned to Brooklyn to do a job. He’d been set up, betrayed, and nearly killed, but still, he stayed, and he’d remained loyal. He’d brought in the traitors; handed over Fury’s business and crew; gave the Families more than enough intel to set them up for several decades to come. He’d struggled and fought tooth-and-nail for months to put things right and make a clean break.

Bucky could’ve pulled rank, put his foot down, and given Steve’s seat to Natasha, but he didn’t. He knew being put in charge of the West Indies wasn’t what Steve wanted, but instead of giving him his well-earned freedom, Bucky had taken it away, and he didn’t do it because it was just good business, or because he wanted to make the transition more palatable.

He did it because he wanted Steve to stay, and it was easier and less messy to force his hand than to ask him to stick around. He wanted him to stay because whether Steve liked it or not, this was where he was meant to be, and this was what he’d been groomed to do since before he could walk.

Bucky wanted Steve to stay, because even with all the enmity between them, even after everything they’d done to each other, there was still nobody else in the world he trusted more than him.

He wanted him to stay because he’d already let Steve go once, and he’d regretted it. He wanted him to stay because despite what Steve had told him, it had meant something, and Bucky hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since the moment he’d fled Jamaica.

He wanted him to stay because what Maria said before Natasha put her down got under his fucking skin. He wanted him to stay, because no other man had ever fit so well in his life, or would ever look so right in his bed, and Bucky just couldn’t let it go…

But he couldn’t admit to any of it. Bucky couldn’t say any of it aloud, because that would make it too real, and he couldn’t allow himself to be honest or vulnerable or display anything that resembled human frailty. They’d reasserted control, but their grasp over both Brooklyn and their new real estate was still tenuous, and he needed to keep his authority, dignity, and backbone intact.

“Do you love him?”

He snorted, “Love is one vice I can’t afford to indulge in.”

Natasha frowned, “That’s not an answer.”

“Well, that’s the answer you’ve been given,” Bucky retorted before he polished off his drink. “And on that note, I’m going to bed.”

On his way out, Bucky politely bid everyone goodnight, and then made his way to the elevator. It arrived promptly, and after he stepped inside, he selected the top floor. The doors had nearly closed, but someone shot out a hand and halted them. When Scott’s face appeared, Bucky stepped aside to make room for him, along with Steve and Rhodey, who followed quickly behind.

“I told you that you shouldn’t have dealt him in,” Rhodey groused.

“A Royal fuckin’ Flush on the first hand,” Scott groaned in defeat. “How’s that even possible?”

Steve grinned and clapped them both on the back, “You can pay up in the morning.”

The three of them busted each other’s balls for several floors, and because Bucky’s suite was at the top of the high-rise, he got to be a spectator to all their antics. There were also several stops along the way, and one of the passengers kept readjusting his luggage until it fell right on top of his foot. The owner of the baggage didn’t even apologize, and Bucky was about to go off when he realized the person who had scuffed the toe of his Salvatore Ferragamo was too busy gawking at Steve to even realize what had happened.

Slapdash vacation ensemble of flip-flops, board-shorts, and a white t-shirt. A toned body, sharp jaw, and sandy-brown hair. He blushed and looked positively besotted, but all that doe-eyed innocence was counterbalanced with a flash of a sly smirk and the reveal of a tongue ring when he talked.

The elevator signaled it had arrived at the fifteenth floor, which was where Scott and Rhodey disembarked. If they said anything to him before they departed, Bucky didn’t hear it, as soon as it was just him, Steve, and the dude with the bad manners, the haphazard flirtation began.

It was way too much and far too obvious, which meant he wasn’t a pro, and the way he tried to subtly slip Steve his phone number suggested he was just a horny guy looking to get laid. Steve didn’t engage, but he didn’t exactly shut him down hard, either. Though his tone suggested he was very flattered, he was tactful, and even somewhat contrite when he said he wasn’t interested. To his credit, the guy took the rejection like a champ, and didn’t press the issue further.

Bucky knew he had no right whatsoever to be invidious of “my-name-is-Chad-and-my-room-is-1801-if-you-change-your-mind.” But he couldn’t deny that he really wanted to kick the guy’s teeth in, and he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t relieved that Steve didn’t change his mind decide to go with him.

He couldn’t recollect how many men had propositioned him in the past few months. He couldn’t remember their voices, their faces, or what they said to him. Bucky also couldn’t recall how many times he’d woken up alone, sober and extremely frustrated, because as much as he wanted to fuck Steve out of his system, he hadn’t been able to get it up for anyone else in months.

The automated voice chimed, “Floor Twenty,” and the doors parted. Steve got out and turned right. Bucky was supposed to go left, but he didn’t. Instead, he pursued Steve all the way to the end of the hall and right up to his door. The lock beeped and Steve reached for the handle, but Bucky got to it first. Even though he hadn’t been invited, and knew his presence was entirely unwelcome, he entered Steve’s room, and turned on the light.

As soon as Steve stepped over the threshold and the door clicked shut, Bucky turned around, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and slanted his mouth down hard over his.

None-too-gentle, deep, and possessive – it was a kiss that contradicted his words, shot his best intentions to hell, and betrayed his so-called indifference. It was a lip-lock that produced an instantaneous erection, which proved he wasn’t impotent, but also verified there was only one man he could and always would get hard for.

Bucky growled, pinned Steve up against the door, and bit down hard on his neck. Steve chuckled and Bucky knew – he knew that Steve knew was jealous – and he didn’t care. He just reached for his belt and yanked it open. As soon as the zipper was lowered and his boxers were pushed past his hips, Steve brought his hand to his mouth, and dragged his tongue over his palm and fingers. The hot, spit-slicked grasp around his dick made Bucky’s eyes roll back, and as the pressure increased, so did Steve’s grip.

It was all hot and frantic, but any thoughts of trying to reciprocate flew out of his head the moment Steve started to use both hands. He cupped and fondled with his left and maintained a steady pace with the right. He swiped the pad of his thumb repeatedly over the tip until Bucky was nice and slippery, and the sound of Steve working him over was just as filthy as it was erotic.

“Is this the real reason I’m here?” he asked with a pointed squeeze. “Is this what you want me for?”

When Bucky didn’t answer right away, Steve jerked him harder, and picked up the pace.

“I gave you everything you wanted, but that wasn’t enough, was it? You want me under your thumb. You want me to follow your orders. You want me to call you Boss, don’t you?”

He moaned against his throat, “I want… Fuck, Steve, I want…”

“What? What do you want?” he demanded lecherously. “You want to fuck me into obedience? Screw me into submission? Is that what you want, JB? Do you just want a hole to stick your prick into, or do you actually want me?”

“Don’t stop,” Bucky begged as he thrust his hips. “Fuck, whatever you do, don’t stop.”

“Say you want me. Say it and mean it,” Steve breathed into his ear. “Just say it, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I can handle it – that I can handle you – and whatever else that gets thrown at us. Say it, and I just might let you come someplace else other than in your pants.”

Bucky should’ve been a man and owned up to what he felt, but he didn’t. At the same time Steve ripped the orgasm from his body, the word “No!” was also roughly torn out of his throat, and there was absolutely no way to take it back.

He knew he deserved it when Steve released him harshly and shoved him away. Bucky also knew Steve was more than justified in his actions when he spat in his face and wiped his cum-stained hands off on the sleeves of his suit jacket.

“I’m not some fuck-toy for you to play around with,” he snarled as he threw the door open wide.

Bucky pulled up his pants and met Steve’s rage-filled eyes, “I can’t. We can’t and I’m--”

“Just shut the fuck up,” Steve interjected coldly. “And get the fuck out.”

Chapter 16: Exsanguinate

Everything: @jennmurawski13 @nerdy-bookworm-1998

Steve Rogers: @patzammit @hearttoearth The Boss of Brooklyn: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @captain-rogers-beard

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 5 years ago

Text

Supercorp SAO AU, Pt 3

Kara hasn't ever met Lena's husband. Honestly, she isn't entirely sure Lena has either. He's never home, Lena's apartment very much her own from the art to the books to the furniture. If not for the occasional tabloid photo, the wedding portrait on Lena's mantel, and the rings on her left hand, Kara might have assumed the husband to be a specter to dissuade would-be suitors. Even so, she can't help but notice the way Lena's smile dims when she sees his number on her phone during movie night. "It's nothing," Lena says, when Kara works up enough nerve to mention it. "He likes to pick fights. I used to enjoy the debates we'd have, but lately... I don't know. It doesn't feel like debate anymore. And at the end of the day I don't have the energy for it." Over the weeks and months, Kara learns about him in bits and pieces. That he was a friend of Lex's, and that they fell in love over the course of several summers. That he had his own tech company, who had just migrated to a new market on another continent, hence his absence. One time, Kara arrives to movie night to hear Lena almost shouting into her phone. Her tone is the kind Kara only heard once in all their time in Aincrad-- when she'd been on the verge of committing murder, against a player who had nearly poisoned Kara to death. Dark, menacing, and inhumanly cold.

"Come anywhere near my company again, and I will slap you with enough lawsuits to keep you and your pathetic excuse for a firm underwater for the next thirty years. Do you understand me?" She barely pauses long enough for her victim to open their mouth before interrupting, her voice pitching even lower. "I said-- do. you. understand. I want to hear you say it."

Lena hasn't registered Kara's arrival yet, and so Kara shifts awkwardly as she waits, trying not to watch as Lena's lips twist into a cruel smirk. "Good boy." She ends the call shortly thereafter, and starts in surprise when she turns to find Kara standing in her foyer. "Kara! Gosh, you startled me!" She sounds like herself again, but Kara eyes her warily. "Is tonight a bad time? I can come back--" "Don't be ridiculous!" Lena beams, rolling her eyes. "Marital squabbles might be a bitch, but it'll take a lot more than that to keep us from movie night. What's on for tonight? Die Hard?" Before long, Kara is curled up against Lena's side on the couch, sharing a blanket as Bruce Willis yippee-ki-yays across the screen. The call lingers at the back of her mind, and she decides right then and there that if Lena's husband is someone who brings out that side of her.... he doesn't know Lena at all. Perhaps Kara's favorite part of their friendship is their party. It happens by accident-- Kara stumbles across her during a trial period of a new VR. She's an elf this time, and her username is Kieran, but her avatar still looks mostly like herself. "I didn't know you played," Kara says, scuffed her dwarven boot against the ground. She's a little hurt that Lena hasn't ever mentioned it. "I should have told you," Lena admits. "I'm sorry I didn't, but after what you told me about your time in SAO, I was worried if we connected in a game, I... I guess I worried I wouldn't measure up to her. It sounds really silly to say it out loud. I really cherish our friendship, Kara, and I was scared I might lose it if you spotted too many differences between us. Between me and her." Kara smiles, and throws her short, but strong arms around Lena and squeezes right. "Not possible." After that, they're inseperable in the VR world. They try new games together, and the nature of Lena's position grants Kara beta access to countless games still in development. They explore entire worlds together, and Kara finds that Lena needn't be worried at all. She is Lena. The Lena Kara loved in Aincrad didn't stray far from the template of her creator's personality and fighting style, and in VR Lena comes alive in a way she doesn't in the real world-- as though anything could top that. In VR Kara watches Lena lead raid parties with expert precision, sharp and intense but also warm and inviting. More than once Lena helps inexperienced players level up, and shares the secret spawn points for creatures that drop rare items. Kara misses Lena-in-Aincrad, misses what they shared together, but she loves this Lena, the whole of Lena, with her entire being. Eventually, they beta test ALO together, by virtue of the fact that Lena's husband headed the development team that produced the matrix for it. It's a world that rivals Aincrad in beauty and scale. Better yet, it allows magic use, and every race has the ability to fly. One day, they spend an afternoon simply flying through a rainstorm, dodging lightning bolts and collecting thunderbells to smith armor with. Somewhere between the rain on her skin and laughter that gets swallowed by thunder, Kara simply stops and watches as Lena loops into a tight corkscrew to snag an escaping ingot. Her grin is as bright as the lightning, and when their eyes meet Kara's chest tightens at the heated expectance that opens Lena's features into something intimately familiar. Before either of them can speak, the in-game alarm alerts them to the end of their scheduled session, Kara immediately wakes and rolls to her phone. I love you. She almost hits send, but the phone buzzes in her hand before her finger can tap the button. Not a bad way to spend the last day of beta, Lena texts, with pulsing dots following to warn of an incoming note. I think that might be my favorite quest so far. Catch you next rainstorm? Kara deletes her previous message. Launch Day is marked on my calendar. Can't wait. The pulsing dots appear and disappear several times before Lena's next message finally comes through. You're my favorite. Kara rolls over, clasping her phone to her pounding chest. As she drifts off to sleep, those three words sear themselves across the back of her eyelids. You're my favorite. --- "So when will you be back online?" Kara asks over the phone almost a month later. The ALO launch is coming up, and their standing date (it's not a date) looms in the back of Kara's mind. Across the line, Lena sighs. "I'm not sure." Lena's work has kept her busy since their night chasing lightning. They've barely spoken, let alone lunched or gamed. "Were still on for the ALO launch, though, right?" Silence answers her. In a rare moment of petulance, Kara pouts. "Lena, you promised." "Yeah," Lena breathes. "Yeah, you're right, I did. At this point it looks like I might be traveling that day, but I'll try to reschedule some things. I don't know how much time I can spare though." "That's okay!" Kara chirps, grabbing at the compromise with both hands. "I just want to see you. I miss you." "I miss you too, you have no idea." A rumble of voices on the other end cuts their time short. "Sorry, I have to go," Lena says. "But I'll do what I can, I promise." "Okay. See you then." From that night on, Kara counts down the days. When Launch Day dawns, Kara logs in immediately. She waits for hours, selecting an avatar that looks almost like herself. In fact it's a dead ringer except for the white feathered wings that fold up snugly against her back, and unfurl between the slats of her armor. As she waits for Lena to log in, she experiments with her new wings (during beta, she'd chosen fairy wings), and revels in the power of every stroke. She feels the most like she did in Aincrad, and it feels like coming home. But as she waits, the faces who greet her aren't Lena's. She passes on joining other survivors for a commemorative hunt, even as the sun dips below the horizon, and in her heart she knows Lena won't make it. Still she waits. Just in case. When she finally logs out, Kara texts Lena, but sends only a frowning emoji. Then she turns it off and goes to sleep, determined to let whatever apology Lena sends sit unopened until she wakes. But no response is waiting for her when she gets up the next morning, and none comes for the entire week that follows. That week spreads to two, and then three. Kara's disappointment shifts to irritation when she assumes Lena is trying to avoid her after missing the launch, but then snaps to concern when even her calls go unanswered until her voicemail is too full to record any more. Something is wrong. She calls Lena's office, her assistant, sends countless emails, but gets nothing except a cagey brush off from Lena's assistant. When Kara goes to L-Corp herself, she's rebuffed at the door. "Orders came down from the top, Miss Danvers. You're no longer permitted in the building." "What? That's ridiculous! Lena wouldn't--" "You'll have to take that up with her, ma'am." "I'm TRYING." But to no avail. Kara gets nowhere, and is left bewildered and hurt and afraid for Lena who she can't quite believe would cut her out so abruptly. Alex doesn't have any advice to give her, except to be patient and keep trying. So all Kara can do is log in to ALO every night, and watch her friend list, praying that Lena will log in. She never does. Then, one night, Kara receives an anonymous message in her inbox. She doesn't know how a player could send an anonymous message, as the privacy on her inbox is set to friends only. Nevertheless, she opens it. "Meet me tomorrow night at 1am." It includes a National City address. She doesn't need Alex to tell her it's a bad idea. But her gut tells her it's about Lena-- maybe even Lena herself-- and so she goes to the location at the designated time with her heart in her throat. It's not Lena. Rather, it's her assistant, Jess. "Come with me," Jess tells her. Kara obeys, and after a furtive drive through the city, Jess leads her into a nondescript building that has more locked doors than Fort Knox. Finally, Jess swipes her security pass over the final sensor, and pushes into a room filled with medical equipment. For a moment, Kara sees her own hospital room, when she woke up from her SAO coma, filled with the same equipment. She's had this dream before. But the figure lying prone in the sterile bed isn't herself. It's Lena. "Oh my god." "She logged in the morning of the ALO launch," Jess informs her, her voice quiet. "She cleared her schedule for it. But she never woke up, and when we reviewed the game data, it never showed her syncing up to the game." Lena's features are slack inside the visor of the NervGear. When Kara takes her hand, her skin is cool, and waxy, like it isn't even human. But it is. Kara recognizes the scar on Lena's wrist, from a soldering accident when she was twelve. "I don't believe them," Jess murmurs. Kara blinks. "What?" "The new Nerv models are designed with multiple redundancies after the SAO incident. If she didn't connect, Lena would have woken up instantly." "Is it possible it could have been tampered with?" Jess shrugs. "Maybe. But the logistics of doing so without Lena noticing just aren't feasible." Kara regards her solemnly. "It sounds like you have an alternate theory." "It would be easier to alter the game data than tamper with the gear. Someone involved with the game's development would have easy access and ample opportunity." Someone involved in the game's development? Like... "Her husband?" "He's already assumed her seat on the board as interim chair. And he's already proposing changes Lena vetoed earlier this year. There enough members who agreed with Lena's veto that they've resisted him so far, but it won't be long before he wears them down." Rage burns low in Kara's belly. Bastard. Gritting her teeth, she meets Jess' gaze. The woman's face is well past angry-- she's exhausted, and at the end of her rope. It's clear that Kara is her last hail mary. "I'm going to lose my job the moment they find out I brought you here," Jess warns. "After that, I won't have any access. But I can't help her from here anyway." "You think she's trapped in the game," Kara surmises. Jess nods. "My guess is there's a backdoor that lets them control a small area of the game. To avoid detection by the moderating algorithms, they've probably built it into the context of the game-- an uncharted area that only becomes available after completing a legendary quest." Or clearing the final floor boss, Kara thinks bitterly. Her hand tightens on Lena's limp fingers. This is SAO all over again, except this time... This time, Lena is alone. "I've been searching every second I spend at home, but haven't found anything," Jess continues. "But I'm certain the answer to waking Lena up is in the game itself. That's why I reached out to you." Kara's head lifts sharply, surprised by the admission. Jess returns her gaze solemnly, her features hard. "If anyone can beat a broken game from the inside, it's you."

previous / next

#supercorp #sao au #angst #the plot thickens #supercorp endgame #does this count as slowburn?

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kumeko · 5 years ago

Photo

Title: highly improper

A/N: For scientias for the FFXV Secret Santa! I saw the Merlin AU prompt and this just jumped from my hands! XD I didn’t expect to write this much! Originally I was going to put Luna in too but I couldn’t make her fit.

…

Ignis stood on his tippy toes, his arms hanging onto the crib bars tightly as he peered down at the baby sleeping inside. Deep asleep, the baby lay flat on his back, his limbs splayed as he dreamt. Wisps of black hair crowned his head and Ignis tried to imagine the King’s golden crown on this tiny head.

“Watching the baby again, Ignis?” King Regis softly stepped inside, quietly approaching them. His footsteps were muffled on the plush carpet. Looking down in the crib, he pulled the blanket tighter around the little prince with a smile. “Finally asleep, I see.”

“He stopped crying an hour ago,” Ignis dutifully reported, untangling his arms. He quickly bowed to the king. “Sire.”

“I see.” The king’s brow knit, his expression darkening slightly. “He’ll need all the rest he can get. His destiny is a heavy one. The gods have tasked him with saving our kingdom, our world.”

Ignis’s eyes widened. Noctis’s hands could barely wrap around Ignis’s finger, and they were expected to not only rule a kingdom, but also save the world? “Really?”

“Really.” Regis crouched down, resting a hand on his shoulder. “When that times comes, he’ll need a companion. Will you be there for him?”

“Of course,” Ignis chirped, no doubts in his mind. If he could help his father, help his king, help the prince, he’d do in a heartbeat. He glanced at the prince between the bars, at his chubby red cheeks and tiny fists.

Noctis would save the world one day.

Ignis just had to make sure he got there.

ii.

“Your highness, it’s morning,” Ignis announced, entering Noctis’s chambers. He closed the heavy wooden door behind him when it was apparent that the prince hadn’t awoken yet. As usual. There were many ways to describe Noctis but an early riser was not one of them. Clicking his tongue, Ignis drew open the thick curtains, flooding the room with the bright morning light. “Wake up.”

Noctis groaned, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. “Five more minutes.”

“Zero more minutes,” Ignis corrected, rubbing his forehead tiredly. They played this game every day and he didn’t know who the bigger fool was—Noctis for thinking it’d work, or Ignis for expecting him to change. “You have jousting and sword practice this morning, before we take a tour of the guards. You barely have time for breakfast, let alone sleeping in.”

“One more minute,” Noctis recanted, as though that made much of a difference. The blankets tangled around his legs as he burrowed deeper into his pillows.

“Zero means zero, your highness.” With a sigh, Ignis stepped forward and yanked the bedsheets off. The usual pattern it was, then.

Noctis shivered as the chilly air hit him. “It’s so cold!” Languidly, he stretched his arms above his head as he slowly sat up. “Do I issue the orders or you?” he complained, his tone belligerent.

“I am waking you up,” Ignis pointed out, rolling his eyes as he opened Noctis’s drawers. Selecting a fine woolen tunic and matching pants, he laid them down on the bed. “You slept a good two hours longer than I did, sire.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” Noctis sighed, balefully glaring up at him.

“Sire, if you continue to look at me like that, I will call Prompto to wake you up. Or maybe Gladiolus would do?” Ignis crossed his arms, raising his brow. In this room, in the familiarity of their years, he could get away with little challenges like this.

“No, no, I’m good.” Noctis sat up immediately, giving up the jig. Ignis wasn’t sure which of the two scared Noctis more—Prompto’s overenthusiasm or Gladiolus no-nonsense attitude. He slipped off the bed, his hands on his back as he stretched backwards until a soft crack was heard. “So, what’d you say was first? Jousting?”

“Yes, you’ve missed the last two practices so Gladiolus will be a little…aggressive,” Ignis explained.

“That’s putting it lightly.” Noctis winced, spreading his arms out.

“Very lightly,” Ignis agreed, taking a deep breath before he pulled off Noctis’s shirt. He could do this. He could—the sight of Noctis’s chest, his pale skin bathed in the sunlight, made his mouth go dry. His heart beat so hard, he wasn’t sure how Noctis couldn’t hear it. Swallowing, he turned away as he folded Noctis’s shirt. It was okay, he just had to put the new shirt on. He had this.

“I’m going to get so bruised.” Noctis shuddered. “Make sure the creams are ready, I’m going to need them.”

“Y-yes.” He could feel his smile strain. Creams meant rubbing them on meant touching Noctis—

This had been so much easier when they were children.

iii.

“HIYAAAH,” Gladiolus roared, his mount charging down the field like an angry boar. His horse was already a monster at eighteen hands. With Gladiolus’s bulk added on top of it, it was like watching a titan attack a fly.

A fly that also happened to be the prince.

Noctis swung his lance but it was too late. He grunted as he took the full brunt of the attack, falling hard onto the ground.

“Your Highness!” Ignis ran up the field. They were wearing armour and the lances were wood, but either way that had to hurt. Crouching next to Noctis, he quickly helped his liege into a sitting position. “Are you okay?”

“No,” grunted Noctis, a scowl on his face as he yanked off his helmet. He glared at Gladiolus. “You could go a little easier, you know.”

“Then you would never learn, your highness,” Gladiolus answered cockily, and perhaps it was a good thing they had all known each other since childhood. Any other noble would have had his head for the way he acted. “Now, get back on your horse.”

“So you can murder me?” grumbled Noctis. Despite his frown, he slowly pushed himself off the ground.

“Wait!” Ignis grabbed one of Noctis’s arms. “Are you sure you want do this? You could be hurt. You might already be hurt. Maybe we should check with—”

“Worrywart.” Noctis’s frown melted into an exasperated smile and he shook his head. “This happens every day, you don’t need to be so worried all the time. Nothing’s broken, just a few bruises. I wish he’d hold back a little.”

“Me too,” Ignis muttered, biting his lip. Worry welled within nonetheless, a fear that Noctis’s smile couldn’t erase.

Noctis smirked over his shoulder at his knight. “Besides, we can’t keep Gladdy waiting.”

Astride his horse, Gladiolus lifted his visor. Even from here, Ignis felt a shiver run up his spine from the cold look he shot them. “You’ve been spending time with Iris.”

“...it is better to deny that,” Ignis whispered.

“It’s not like he can kill me,” Noctis retorted quietly.

He shook his head. “There are some things worse than death.”

iv.

“Again?” Cindy lifted the heavy plates of armour with ease, giving a low whistle as she inspected the dents and cracks. She frowned as her finger traced a particularly ragged line, a frown that grew deeper as she realized just how much damage Noctis’s armour had gone through. Poking her head over it, she glared at Ignis. “Really? Do you know how much work I put in this?”

“I do, and I am sorry again that we have to take so much of your time.” Ignis rubbed his neck awkwardly, feeling flustered under her angry gaze. No matter how many times he’d faced it, it never got easier, and he wasn’t sure if he should be happy or sad that her grandpa had retired, leaving the castle smithy to her. At least there was one less glare at him.

“I just repaired it two days ago!” She set the armour down on her work bench. Crossing her arms, she turned back to him. “What’re you doing, beating it with a hammer? Fighting in a war? I’ll have you know none of the other guards, knights, or nobles give me half as much trouble as the prince.”

Because none of them are trained by Gladiolus, Ignis almost retorted. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut and offered a sympathetic smile. “Your work is exceptional, which is why the prince knows he can trust this matter to you.”

“The prince knows I can’t refuse, otherwise I would have stopped taking any work from him.” Cindy sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t even know why I try with his things, I just know it’ll get destroyed.”

Sensing her crack, Ignis walked next to her and squeezed her shoulder. “Your work is exemplary and should be the example for any blacksmith.”

“Yeah, yeah, just buttering me up.” She grinned anyways. Grabbing a pair of ash-covered gloves, she glanced at Ignis. “Do you give this sweet talk to the prince too?”

Ignis replied with an elegant, “Huh?”

“What, you think I don’t have eyes?” Cindy snorted, pulling out her hammers as she set up her work bench. “I’ve seen how you look at him. How he looks at you.”

“Why I never!” Ignis protested, his cheeks burning at the insinuation. The absolutely false, definitely not true accusation.

Cindy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, you haven’t—”

“I definitely haven’t,” Ignis confirmed quickly, wanting to squash this idea before it found purchase. And definitely before anyone else heard it.

“I see.” She grinned impishly and he had seen that expression on Prompto’s face too many times before to know where this was going. He should never have introduced her to the stable boy. “Well, if you say so.”

Sensing a trap, he scrutinized her warily. “I do.”

“Well, he is a prince after all.” She shrugged, still smiling slyly. “It’d be improper to act rashly.”

“It’d be improper, period,” Ignis corrected her firmly.

“Which is why you’re waiting for the perfect, romantic moment,” Cindy continued, not hearing him at all.

“I’m not!” Ignis growled.

Cindy laughed. “Sure you’re not.”

Noctis glanced over his shoulder, his hands loose on the reins of his steed. “It’s strange. I keep expecting to see someone behind us.”

Ignis looked over his shoulder as well. Behind them, the forest path was completely empty for once. There were no signs of the usual guards, no cloaked knights on vigilant alert as they sat tall on their horses. It even sounded quieter than normal, without the extra whickers from other horses. “Me too, your highness. Though we are still within the castle’s forest, so it should be safe enough here.”

“No, that’s not what I…” Noctis ran a hand through his hair, before giving a shy smile. “I just meant, it’s been a while since it’s been just the two of us. Without actually having to worry about work or lessons or anything.”

“Oh.” Ignis flushed lightly as he realised that they were alone. Truly alone. No servants in the next room, no guards in the shadows, nothing. Not even the prying eyes of villagers. “You’re right, it has been a while. Not since we were children, I believe, your highness.”

“Forever, basically. And, just call me Noctis.” When Ignis opened his mouth to protest, Noctis shook his head. “It’s fine, we’re alone.”

That didn’t make it fine, not in the least. They were still prince and attendant, still divided by an invisible barrier that remained in place no matter who was there. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from uttering, “Noctis.”

“Yeah.” Noctis smiled whole-heartedly, his eyes crinkling just so, and Ignis stared, transfixed. “Just like that. I kinda miss when we were kids—you used to be less formal.” He paused, then corrected himself. “Slightly less formal.”

“A problem I have thoroughly corrected,” Ignis finally replied, regaining his voice. His heart was in his throat and it was hard to keep his voice calm, to keep himself collected. He forced his eyes way and stare at the path ahead instead. At least his mount kept a steady pace, trotting along without any realizations of the issues his rider was having.

“It wasn’t a problem. I liked it better that way.” Noctis leaned back slightly, staring up at trees. His bangs covered his eyes and his next words were careful. “We were…closer then.”

Ignis peeked at him from the corner of his eyes, unable to read his liege’s expression. “We grew up, as children are wont to do.”

“I guess.” Noctis looked down at his hands for a long moment. The only sound was the steady clip-clop of their horses as they traversed the dirt path. A deep breath and he stood up straight, his jaw set. Pulling his horse to a stop, he shook his head. “No.”

“No?” Pressing his right leg, Ignis guided his horse to turn around and ride back to Noctis. Stopping next to him, he cocked his head. “Is something wrong?”

“This. All of this.” Noctis shook his head once more. “We…we don’t have to grow apart.” As he spoke, his hand reached out, his fingers almost brushing Ignis’s hand. “I don’t want that, I want us to—”

It had been easier, when they were children. When Ignis could touch and be touched by Noctis and think nothing of it. When he could watch Noctis get hurt and think only of his improvement, when he could spend long hours helping with paperwork and not feel the small gap between their shoulders as though it were a physical presence.

But they weren’t children, not anymore, and Ignis could only see the possibilities in that potential touch, the torrent of words within him just waiting to pour out. His heart was in his throat, full and ready to speak, but he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t.

It was almost reflexive, his flinch. His draw back. Ignis pulled away, just out of reach.

Noctis stared at him, shocked. His eyes widened, hurt crossing his face, his fingers still hovering where Ignis’s used to be.

Immediately, Ignis realized he’d made the wrong move. “Noctis…”

“Fine.” Noctis’s fingers curled into a fist, his brow narrowed. With a click of his tongue, he urged his horse into a gallop, leaving Ignis behind in the dust.

vii.

“So this is where you’re sulking!” Pitchfork hanging off his shoulder, Prompto entered the box stall. The door closed behind with a click and he cocked his head. “I think the prince’s horse is all cleaned now.”

“I’m not sulking,” Ignis retorted, barely sparing the brazen interloper a glance before returning to Noctis’s black stallion, Regalia. A brush in hand, he firmly stroked the mount’s side. “And I need to just finish checking his hooves.”

“I swear you go overboard on everything.” Prompto rolled his eyes, setting his pitchfork on the ground. He crossed his arms over the handle and rested his chin on his arms. “And you are totally sulking.”

“I’m not,” Ignis snapped back, shooting him a dirty glare. “Don’t you have more important matters to attend? Your job? These stables are in need of cleaning.”

“Hey, don’t take it out on me.” Prompto pouted, his cheeks puffed and lip jutted out. “Is it because you and Noctis fought?”

“Your highness,” Ignis corrected automatically, they’d had this argument too many times before. Registering what Prompto said, he froze. “What makes you think we fought?”

“The way he’s trashing Gladdy?” Prompto gave a playful grin. “And so it was a fight?”

“I…I didn’t…” Ignis slumped his shoulders. “Is he that angry?”

“Hmmm…” Prompto tapped his chin, considering it. “Well, Gladiolus did say he’d never seen Noctis so aggressive before. And Noctis kinda just glared at me when I brought up your name. So. There’s that.”

Ignis closed his eyes. Well, he did deserve this, rebuking the prince like that. He didn’t even let the prince finish speaking before reacting, it could have just been something ordinary, like a renewal of friendship. “I didn’t intend for this.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Prompto softened. Setting the pitchfork to the side, he approached Ignis and squeezed his shoulder. “You always mean well. Sometimes too well.”

“It’s just…” Ignis stared at the black hide of Regalia, as though the answers could be found in the whirls of his hair. “I want to make sure he’s happy. Always. To help him with his duties and try to ease the burden he has.”

And to keep these feelings of his sealed away, forever.

“I know you do. You’ve always put him first. But,” Prompto asked thoughtfully, peering up at him. “You know, he always seems happiest with you. Have you ever thought of that?”

viii.

The evening breeze was chilly and Ignis shivered as he nudged open the doors to the rooftop. On the western tower, there was no night-watch or prying eyes. Only the roosting pigeons knew of what transpired here, their coos filling the air as Ignis stepped out onto the exposed roof.

Ahead of him was Noctis, sitting on the bench they’d set up when they were children. A secret base, as the prince liked to call it. A place where he could be alone. He’d often come here when he was angry or sad. All of which meant that Prompto hadn’t been teasing earlier. Or at least, only teasing.

Saying nothing, Ignis walked forward carefully, a small tray in his hands. The heat from Noctis’s favourite soup wafted up to his nose and he was glad that the food was keeping warm. “Your highness.”

Noctis didn’t say anything, his back rigid, his eyes staring straight ahead as the sun slowly set.

Ignis hesitated. Taking a deep breath, he quickly said, “Noctis.” His ears burned.

At that, Noctis turned his head, acknowledging his presence. He still didn’t say anything but he moved to the side, making room on the bench for him. Grateful, Ignis sat down next to him, setting down the tray on the space next to him. He folded his hands on his lap. Noctis softly inhaled, exhaled, a sound as familiar as Ignis’s own heartbeat. “I’m sorry.”

Noctis didn’t reply.

“I…” Ignis couldn’t say why he really pulled away. Couldn’t break this fragile thing between them. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Softly, Noctis sighed. He rested his forehead on his hand, his head angled slightly to look up at Ignis. “I know. You never do.” His expression was still dark. “It’s just…I…” Gritting his teeth, he curled into himself. “Never mind, just…just forget about what I did.”

“Never.” Ignis shook his head. Noctis had never looked so small before. So vulnerable. And it was all because of him and his inability to keep his feelings in check. “I also miss how close we used to be. It’s just…our positions…you’re the prince and I…”

“Is that it?” Noctis sat up and leaned close, too close. Ignis barely had time to register his presence before Noctis’s hands were on his shoulder, keeping him in place. “Is that all that’s stopping you?”

“Noctis?” Ignis glanced nervously at the door. If anyone found them in such a compromising situation…heads would roll. His own, possibly.

“Is that all?” Noctis repeated, unconcerned.

“It’s a big thing,” Ignis protested. “You’re the heir to the throne. I’m a commoner.”

“You’re right, I’m the heir to the throne.” Noctis leaned closer and Ignis could see his long eyelashes, the flecks of grey in his eyes. His hands shook slightly. “So who can tell me that this is wrong?” The gap between their bodies, their lips, was so small. Ignis could feel Noctis’s heat radiating onto his skip, feel his breath on his face. “Who can tell me not to love you?”

Love? Ignis’s mind went blank. Noctis closed the gap, kissing him hungrily and any thoughts he still had disappeared entirely. All he could feel was Noctis, his hands digging into Ignis’s back as he held him tight, deepening the kiss. And god, his lips were soft, so soft, just as he’d imagined for years, and his arms were strong and—

And he was kissing the prince. Ignis pulled back in a panic. “Your highness!”

“Noctis,” Noctis admonished, a small pout on his face. “What’s wrong now?”

“I…you…this is highly improper!” Ignis blushed a furious red.

“I thought…” Noctis turned red himself, retracting quickly. Realization dawned on his face. “This…you didn’t mean…” He buried his face in his hands. “Oh god.”

“No, I did—I mean, I didn’t…” Ignis took a deep breath, trying to regain some measure of coherence. “You like me.”

Head still buried in his hands, Noctis nodded.

“Oh.” Ignis felt his skin burn even hotter, his heart doing funny things inside his chest. Noctis loved him too. This wasn’t a one-sided pining. Not now, at least.

Suddenly, he understood Noctis’s reaction when they were horse riding. He’d taken it as a rejection. Resting a hand on Noctis’s back, his other hand pried Noctis out of hiding and gently pulled him up into a seated position. “Me too,” he admitted. “I like you too.”

Noctis blinked, confused. “Then…”

“I…” Ignis touched his lips with a hand. “That was…” He smiled, pleased for a moment, before remembering himself. Remembering who they were. “That was improper.”

Noctis frowned. “Ignis, I’m the prince. I’ll decide what’s improper or not.”

“But—”

“I love you, but sometimes you talk entirely too much.” Noctis wrapped an arm around Ignis, the other hand tangled in his hair. “Do you love me?”

There was no where to turn, to hide. “Yes,” Ignis admitted, unable to lie when Noctis was staring at him so intensely.

“Good, that’s all I need.” Noctis smiled brightly and leaned forward to kiss him again.

In the part of Ignis’s brain that was still functioning, he hoped he’d remembered to lock the door.

#ignis scientia #noctis lucis caelum #ignoct #noctnis #ffxv #ff15 #gladiolus amiticia #prompto argentum #cindy aurum #fanfic #i like playing with the merlin au #and this thing turned into a monster #ahahah

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