#the 'you know i had to do it to em' picture location is near me to. not to dox myself
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every time i drive past the tampa bay downs i wonder why ive never been there
#its literally 10 minutes from my house. i drive past it on the way to taco bell#you know how it is when there's a famous location in your area#the 'you know i had to do it to em' picture location is near me to. not to dox myself#i used to drive through that neighborhood multiple times a week. ive picked my brother up from a friends house a few times over there#never made the meme pilgrimage though. maybe this year
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Surprise | Soap x Reader
Summary: After a mission that they barely survived, Ghost leads the team to a safe place to stay, his half-sister’s apartment.
Word Count: ~ 1.6k
Warnings: mentions of death, blood, missiles, etc
A/N: first time writing for cod…hope you enjoy, lmk what to do for part 2!! (also here is what I had in mind for the apartment layout, if you’re like me and can’t picture buildings in your head)
Requests are open!
Masterlist | Next
Their mission had gone to complete shit.
It had started relatively simple compared to the other missions they’d been doing, with Russians, cartels, Mexican forces, and whatnot. They’d been shipped out to America, a suspected terrorist group that had been working for General Barkov when he’d been killed.
A group that had now gone rogue, and rumor was that they were headed to Britain, holding a missile for transport that had been stolen from a covert American base. The Americans weren’t taking it too well, but that was to be expected.
“We don’t have enough information to know who they are, you just need to get that missile transported, and get out of there.” Laswell had told them.
“Sounds easy compared to what we do every mornin’, right Lt?” Soap had said with a grin, nudging him with an elbow slightly, and he had only given a grunt in response, still processing information.
“Easy��� his arse.
Sent to one of the states at first, they’d tracked down this supposed terrorist group, apparently it being a lot larger than they originally expected. A lot larger.
It was only because of the intel Gaz had gotten his hands on that they’d been able to locate the missile while it moved, it being located in a broken-down warehouse near Galveston, Texas. Right near the Gulf of Mexico, if they were planning on taking it to sea to travel with it.
And when they’d stormed the warehouse?
A total mess. Unorganized and sloppy.
Soap had blown the door, and they’d planted charges around to detonate for the men guarding the missile but had underestimated just how many there would be. It was crawling with them, more confirmation that they’d been informed somehow beforehand of Task Force 141.
Men in vents, ceiling panels, underneath desks, and hiding behind cabinets, doors, anything.
The missile had only been taken out because of air support, the same air support that had nearly been shot down and taken out, when a heli had finally come in to reprieve them while snatching that missile up and getting the hell out of there.
That didn’t solve the problem of the men everywhere, though. The charges that had been meant to blow some to pieces had been botched, and with all the gunfire, they would attract unwanted attention. Police were already investigating, conveniently turning a blind eye to Price and the rest of his force. It wasn’t a coincidence. Not when Shepherd had a history of paying people off to keep them quiet.
But that wasn’t their problem, right now, Ghost was trying to devise a way to get them the hell out of America, or at least out of goddamn Texas. Of all the places to be stuck in.
“Laswell, where the hell is our exfil?”
He radioed over, crouched down on the roof of a building, taking out whoever he could from it. Many of the men in the terrorist group weren’t a bad shot either, so he decided to keep his head relatively low.
“Negative, Ghost.” Price’s voice responded.
“The hell does that mean?”
“We aren’t leaving. Too many men still here, Kate wants us keeping eyes on ‘em.”
“Bloody fucking hell..”
They had decided to regroup at an old church down the road, Soap was a little banged up, with more than a few cuts and bruises, and Gaz dealing with a minor head injury he’d gotten when someone had tried to smash his skull in with a gun, and Price donning a decent sized cut to the arm.
“This is a covert mission. We can’t stay at a hotel or anything of the like, so where are we going?” Gaz asked, and Price paused for a moment, looking a bit unsure, which made sense considering this had been a get-in-get-out mission before it had changed. Before he could open his mouth to speak, Ghost spoke.
“I know someone, but they’re a long ways away.”
~ 3:48 A.M.~
A knock that was more like a banging on your door woke you up from your light sleep as you quietly sat up in your bed, standing and tiptoeing over to the front door of your spacey apartment.
It was large, for the price. But considering you were working for the landlord at a local restaurant, as he was the general manager there as well, it made sense.
The apartment held two spare bedrooms, and a nice living room connected to a kitchen with a table in it you liked using. Two bathrooms, one in the hallway where your room was in, another connected to a guest bedroom. A little balcony, which came in handy when one of your friends wanted a smoke break when over at your place.
Palming the closed hunting knife still connected to your pants and hanging loosely, you figured you were safe enough to answer the door, and looking through the peephole, you saw four men.
Military, and the one in the Ghost mask…
Opening the door, your face now annoyed, you stared him dead in the eye. Didn’t even glance at the others.
“We need a place to stay. A month or two at most.”
His low and rough voice, donning a British accent, said. It was louder than you remembered him being, but then again, he wasn’t the scared little Simon that you’d known anymore, scared of the abusive father you’d both shared. He wasn’t the Simon who mumbled or spoke quietly anymore.
A silent conversation passed between you two at the door, a thick silence passing over the entire group. The other men stared. Your eyes narrowed, a nonverbal question.
Are you on a mission?
He didn’t move for a moment, no doubt thinking of the information he could share with you. Another reason for your eventual fallout, the fact that he wouldn’t ever share with you anything if what he did. It was always to keep you safe.
Eventually, he gave a tiny, near imperceptible nod. On a mission. Of course, he would come to you while on a mission, dragging you into it. It wasn’t like you were helpless against attackers, not at all, but they’d had some crazy shit happen to them over the years, and that was just from what you’d overheard.
With a resigned sigh, you looked over at the other men he’d brought.
A taller man, with a beard, and a bucket hat. He looked like he had authority. A man on the shorter end, with some scruff, a mohawk, and a poorly restrained cheeky smile. The last man was darker, an almost caramel brown, with short hair, cleanly shaven, and a hat on.
Military men, clearly, but if Simon was willing to trust them around you, then you didn’t count them much as a threat right now.
“Names.”
You said flatly, and the Mohawk-one’s brows raised before replying.
“You can call me Soap-“
“I mean your name, not your shitty military nickname.”
You interrupted bluntly, clearly not in the best mood after being woken at 3 AM because of Simon Riley. “Soap” raised his hands in a mock gesture of innocence.
“Easy, lass. It’s Johnny, if you must know.”
Scottish, then. You could tell by the accent. The taller one spoke.
“John Price.”
The prettiest of the group spoke with a little smile that could’ve fooled you for not being faked.
“Kyle.”
Giving them all one last flat, surveying look, you jerked your head into the apartment, walking in.
“Two guest bedrooms down that way, bathrooms down the hall, there’s a balcony if you want a second exit. Don’t break anything.”
You said simply, and they walked in, looking tired as hell and covered in bandages. However, you weren’t going to let this go. Not right now.
You grabbed Simon by the arm, and he stiffened, stopping.
“You and I are going to have a little talk, Simon.” You said, dragging him into your room, and shutting the door behind you as he sighed, pulling his mask off. Blond hair and lashes came into view, as well as baby blue eyes.
“What the fuck were you thinking, bringing-“
You began, pissed as hell. He hadn’t contacted you in years, not since his mom had died, and with your shared father already dead, you’d been shoved into foster care.
“We’re all injured. We can’t stay anywhere we can be easily found. This area isn’t as well registered, and we’ll be gone in a month.” He spoke simply as if it wasn’t anything to get upset or emotional about.
You took a breath and breathed it out. Stay calm.
“I’m not talking about the mission, Simon.”
He seemed unused to being called his real name. At least, by the stiffening of his shoulders, you guessed so.
“There’s nothing else to talk about.”
He said gruffly, turning to open the door and leave. You stepped in his way, and he stared down at you, unamused. You were barely 5’6, and he was 6’2, so it was quite the height difference.
“You can’t run from your problems forever, Simon.”
You said, hands on your hips, and he simply picked you up, placing you beside him as he opened the door and walked out. Always running from his problems.
It was surprisingly unsurprising.
~ 4:07 A.M.~
“You want to explain who the hell that is, Simon?”
Price asked gruffly from where they were all gathered in one of the guest rooms. Simon paused his quiet pacing for a moment to reply.
“My half-sister.” He answered, and a silence fell over at that. The only sibling they knew he had was Tommy, and Tommy was long dead at that. A few seconds passed, before Soap, in the bathroom connected to this particular guest room, combing his Mohawk and going through his haircare routine, spoke up.
“She’s a real bonnie lass.” Johnny said with a grin, and Simon sighed.
“English, MacTavish.”
“She’s hot as fuck, sir.” The Scotsman said, and there was a small, disappointed sigh from Gaz, who already knew he’d have to patch up Soap from Ghost, who was fuming silently.
#cod mwii#ghost cod#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod#john soap mactavish#john price#kyle gaz garrick#gaz#task force 141#tf 141#johnny x reader#soap call of duty#soap x reader
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Welcome to tiny late night/early morning rambles. So I got thinking about the Sparkeaters in IDW/mtmte and it got me on the idea of what would be some cybertronian mythologies. Becuase it's something that interest me and and it would give me something to work with in writing.
But the fact that vampires and Sparkeaters line up very similar it had me thinking. So here's a list of my own creatures for cybertronian mythology.
- Rust wakers: large four-legged whales with multiple eyes. that live within the rust Sea. To me, the rust sea is a desert void of life, and I love the idea of these massive creatures living there filtering the rust for food, they sing at such a low frequency that it tends to make the rust almost float to the point they can effectively crawl through it. But they are such rare sights due to how large they are they thend to lay dominant for centuries if not longer. They are a legend of the Rust Sea to see one is to bring good fortune to one's life. They are often located by Sky rays who tend to enjoy feasting off the leftovers that the Rust wakers blow into the air.
- Shadow crawler: These creatures are horror carriers and sires tell to their sparklings as a way to teach them stranger danger but to also make sure they learn their parents EM field and sound frequencies They are mimics and will lure cybertronians to their doom into old ruins, the rust sea, off the cliffs of Vos. Most only believe them to be a ghost story to frighten sparklings, but every once in a while, an older cybertronian will talk about how they had an encounter with one. They are thin creatures who like to scavenge parts from deactivating mechs as a way to hide within the people. They are very rare and elusive.
Prismith the Spark guide: the guardian of young sparks, it is a massive almost Sloth like creatures with pig face and moose antlers that work like tusk. With large crystals that line its back almost as if it's melted into the platting. This creature is said to find newborn sparks that just emerge from hotspots. Scooping them up in its tusk and carrying for them until they are old enough to fend for themselves. They are a myth but one proven true by the stories of many sparklings. But it's only every sparkling who ever see this creature as it is a guide and guardian for them. No one knows how many Prismith their are or if there is only one, but many know the story of the spark guide.
- Eledimes: These are mechanical lizards faced by horses like creatures that have no eyes, or at least speculate. They are the cybertorian equipment of a unicorn. They use echo locations to move around and are only ever found in groups of two, if ever found. They sing in beautiful melodies and tend to roam to interworking of the caves of cybertronian. Calling out to those who have become one with the well of sorrows again. It's believed they work alongside Prismith. The Eledimes create the hotspot that new sparks are formed at, and Prismith is the one who cares for them from there. To see an Eledimes means that you are nearing your time to return as one with the allspark.
Depending on what people think I might even do up some designs for them so you guys can have visuals of what I picture.
#transformers#transformers idw#transformers lost light#mtmte#original idea#Cybertronian mythology#fantasy mythology
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It's Memorial Day again when we remember the sacrifices made by those who lost their lives in battle in service to their country or whatever.
File my uncle Phil under whatever. He lost his life at the Battle of Little Big Horn. America wasn't really his home. He came from Ireland and got involved in the Civil War without a true dog in the fight. Legend says that he spent time on both sides, recruited with the promise of some boots and some booze. When the going got tough, Phil got going.
Eventually he joined up with Custer. Bad decision.
He was at the Little Big Horn where he was slaughtered and mutilated along with Custer and 278 other guys, not that they didn't ask for it with their own manifest destiny aggression. I imagine he was one of those guys standing near Custer when the arrows started to fall wondering WTF and a half hour later, he was history.
Or was he?
Seems that my father became an expert on Custer. In doing his research, he discovered that a man named Phil Ryan was counted among the losses. My Dad made the great leap of faith and began touting the legend of Uncle Phil. He located a picture of some of the guys under Custer's command and decided that one of the guys looked something like me. That was good enough for him
When my father bought his future gravesite in Lima, New York near the resting place of his mother and father and future resting place of my mother, he thought it would be a nice gesture to add a tribute for "Uncle" Phil. He undertook a campaign to have Phil honored with a grave marker in the family plot. He wrote letters to the War Department, the Department of the Interior, the President, the Congressman and God knows who else.
Somehow, somebody listened.
We were sent a marker commemorating Phil which we placed near the future resting place of my Mom and Dad.
My father got a big kick out of this.
Every time we visit the gravesite of my parents and grandparents, we also visit the Phil Ryan marker and remember how much fun my Dad had procuring it and how proud he was of obtaining it.
Phil has got to be one of the few Last Stand guys commemorated in upstate New York.
If you ever visit the Lima cemetery check 'em out.
The Battle of Little Bighorn, also known as Custer's Last Stand, took place on June 25 and 26, 1876. The battle lasted for approximately two days. It was a significant conflict between the combined forces of several Native American tribes, primarily the Lakota Sioux and Northern Cheyenne, and the 7th Cavalry Regiment of the United States Army led by Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer. The battle ended in a decisive victory for the Native American forces and resulted in the death of Custer and nearly all of his men.
did some surviveChatGPT
Yes, there were a few survivors of the Battle of Little Bighorn. Most famously, Lieutenant Edward S. Godfrey and about 40 soldiers from Captain Frederick Benteen's detachment survived by taking a defensive position on a nearby hill during the battle. They were later rescued by General Terry's relief column. Additionally, a small group of soldiers under the command of Major Marcus Reno also survived the initial attack but suffered heavy casualties. However, the majority of the 7th Cavalry, including Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer and his immediate command, were killed in the battle.
how long did the attack lastChatGPT
The attack during the Battle of Little Bighorn was a complex series of engagements that took place over the course of several hours on June 25, 1876. The initial attack on the 7th Cavalry led by Major Marcus Reno and Captain Frederick Benteen lasted for approximately two to three hours. Reno's forces were initially successful in driving back the Native American warriors but soon came under heavy fire and were forced to retreat to higher ground.
Meanwhile, Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer and his men launched a separate attack on the village of Lakota Sioux and Northern Cheyenne, which was led by Chief Sitting Bull. Custer divided his forces into three groups and engaged in a fierce battle. However, they were quickly overwhelmed by the overwhelming numbers and tactical superiority of the Native American forces.
The exact duration of Custer's part of the battle is uncertain, but it is generally believed to have been relatively short, lasting perhaps around 30 minutes to an hour before Custer and his immediate command were killed. Overall, the battle itself, including the initial engagements and subsequent fighting, lasted for a few hours on that fateful day.
how many men were lostChatGPT
During the Battle of Little Bighorn, also known as Custer's Last Stand, the 7th Cavalry Regiment of the United States Army suffered heavy losses. The exact number of casualties is a matter of historical debate, but it is generally estimated that around 268 to 276 men from the 7th Cavalry were killed during the battle. This included the entire detachment led by Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer, who was among the casualties.
It's important to note that the casualty figures may vary among different sources, and there were conflicting reports and uncertainties surrounding the battle. Some sources indicate slightly higher or lower casualty numbers, but the range mentioned above is commonly accepted in historical accounts.
how many grave markers are in placeChatGPT
As an AI model, I don't have real-time information or access to current data. However, as of my last knowledge update in September 2021, there are multiple grave markers at the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument in Montana, which commemorates the Battle of Little Bighorn. The markers represent the soldiers and Native American warriors who lost their lives during the battle. The markers include individual headstones for fallen soldiers, as well as collective markers and monuments honoring different units and groups.
It's worth noting that the battlefield has undergone changes and developments over time, and new information or updates may have been made since my last knowledge update. To obtain the most accurate and up-to-date information on the number of grave markers in place, I recommend contacting the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument directly or referring to official sources.
How many Indians were lostChatGPT
The exact number of Native American casualties during the Battle of Little Bighorn is difficult to determine with precision. During the battle, a combined force of Lakota Sioux, Northern Cheyenne, and other Native American tribes fought against the 7th Cavalry Regiment of the United States Army. It's important to note that historical accounts and estimates regarding Native American casualties vary.
While specific figures are not available, it is generally believed that the Native American losses were fewer than those of the 7th Cavalry. Estimates suggest that Native American casualties could range from 30 to 100 warriors killed during the battle. However, it's worth noting that these numbers are approximations and subject to historical debate due to the challenges of accurate record-keeping during the time.
The Battle of Little Bighorn was a significant victory for the Native American forces, but it came at a cost for both sides, resulting in the loss of lives and deepening the historical complexity and impact of the event.
were the bodies mutilatedChatGPT
Yes, there are historical accounts and evidence that suggest that the bodies of some soldiers from the 7th Cavalry were mutilated by Native American warriors after the Battle of Little Bighorn. It is believed that some Native American warriors engaged in acts of mutilation and desecration as a way to demonstrate their prowess in battle, seek revenge, or send a message to the enemy.
Accounts from both Native American and U.S. Army sources describe instances of scalping, dismemberment, and other forms of mutilation being inflicted upon the bodies of fallen soldiers. These acts were not uncommon in conflicts during that era, and they were often driven by cultural and historical factors.
It's important to recognize that war and its aftermath can be brutal and involve acts that are considered disturbing and gruesome. The mutilation of bodies was a regrettable aspect of the Battle of Little Bighorn and is documented in historical records and accounts of the time.
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Thursday was the day we left Barcelona, but we didn't leave until about 5:00 p.m. We thought we were going to get up a bit earlier on Thursday morning and go to La Boqueria market, because I had such fond memories of being so amazed and taken aback by it when I went about 13 years ago. I just love markets in big cities like that! But suffice to say, we didn't get up and at 'em as early as we would have liked on Thursday because the kids have been staying up just too, too late!
I slept all right on Wednesday night but did have about an hour of sleeplessness around 5:00 a.m. That seems to be happening somewhat regularly over these last few days. Anyway, on Thursday morning, I completed the final dealings with some laundry, as seems to be the usual for me (I am kind of a fanatic about it), and then we realized, at about 10:00 a.m., that Eric should start walking over to the Sixt rental car location to pick up our car and drive back and get us, by our 11:00 a.m. check-out. So I wrangled the children and packed up all of our things that weren't pulled together. We were indeed out of the apartment by 11:00 a.m., running into Antonio, our host, on the sidewalk outside, as he met the new guests, who were coming to store their luggage while the apartment was cleaned.
After Eric picked us up in our Volkswagen rental car (a T-Cross), we made our way, very slowly and through traffic and just general European-city driving chaos, towards Park Guell. I had booked a parking spot at a structure near there on an app, and eventually we made it, and entered the Park Guell around 1:00 p.m.
Let me tell you --and not to sound like a broken record, but-- it was extraordinarily hot and humid in the park. You would think that in a circumstance like this, there might be people selling beverages and water and little cafes scattered around the park like in many a large city park, to fuel and hydrate people, but not at the Park Guell. Anyway, the park was quite the sight to see, with all kinds of amazing plazas and walkways and structures, all by Gaudi, executed beautifully. I guess it was only 5 years ago that people had to begin paying to go into the park.
Well, we walked all over to the designated "sites to see" in the park and it was the mosaic areas that were most popular with people, and were pretty clogged up with folks trying to take their picture with beautiful mosaics and vista backgrounds (as we did, too). Some people I thought were quite rude in those circumstances and took like a dozen different shots in different poses to get just the "right one" they wanted to post on their socials, despite the fact that there were tens of people waiting to take a photo in the same spot afterwards, such as by the mosaic-tile gecko (or iguana?).
There were also some people that I thought were dressed much more "for fashion" than they were for heat and functionality! I mean, I don't want to take people's personal expressions of fashion away from them, and as everybody knows, I'm not one to do makeup any day, nor my hair everyday, so I should not really weigh in here, but there were some people wearing pretty fancy outfits to the Park Guell that had me thinking, man, that must be pretty uncomfortable and pretty hot and sweaty! Perhaps in my "middle age" I think much more about functionality 😆 Although, I do think everyone in my family managed to be both sensible and very cute and fashionable at the same time ;) And it should be stated that Spaniards in Madrid and Barcelona, and just Europeans in general (from our prior visits), seem to invest a lot more attention (than Americans, perhaps maybe just Americans not in major metros) in getting ready fashion-wise for each day. I do respect that. But, I suppose making sweeping generalizations is not wise. After all, I do teach my student not to do that ;)
From Park Guell, we decided not to get our car out of the parking garage but rather to take a taxi to the Sagrada Familia for the tour we booked. We got to the Julià Travel office, where our tour was going to begin, and we had some time to spare, so we walked to get something to eat and ended up at a "supermercat," which the kids thought was hilarious to pronounce as "super-meerkat." We got a really odd assortment of foods: dried apricots, almonds, a protein yogurt drink, two yogurts with muesli, and a slice of Spanish potato torte ("tortilla español"). We were sated after this picnic and then, the tour was ready to begin!
We followed our guide, Cristina, who had a beautiful Catalan accent (and the way she pronounced "Jesús" was mesmerizing--and there was a lot of mention of Jesús). We crossed the street from the travel office and entered La Sagrada Familia. If you don't know about it and didn't look it up after I mentioned it in a previous post, do look it up now! What a masterpiece it is--and so mind-bendingly huge! Even if you're not, a) an architecture fan, or b) Catholic, you'll probably still be impressed by it. I mean, if you're an extreme stained-glass fan, you'll be bowled over by it. Eric and I visited about 13 years ago, and there has even been some progress on Gaudi's original vision, bringing it closer towards completion, since then. It's been under construction for over a hundred years.
Apparently, La Sagrada Familia sees 50,000 tourists a day. I absolutely believe that. On our tour, we each had a little radio and ear-buds so we could hear our guide. She had so much helpful and enlightening information. The tour was only 1.5 hours and that was perfect for our kids' attention-span -- and our needs to get on the road to the Costa Brava!
And get on the road we did. By 5:30 p.m., we were en route to L'Estartit, on the coast -- La Costa Brava, to be specific. We were on interstate most of the way, but once we left the interstate and were on smaller two-lane highway, we noticed some pretty interesting-looking large stores, sort of Ikea-ish, off the roadside. One was what we referred to as a "booze shop," so big that we could not tell whether it was a warehouse, manufacturing facility, or store. Eric decided we had to loop back to find out. And it turned out to be like a Costco-sized store dedicated to beer, liquor, and wine. I gather that with a wine-drinking culture like they have in these parts, a store like that is in demand!
We arrived to our place around 8 p.m. but it was very hard to get the kids to bed. Before we even tried, we walked down to the beach and got some quick groceries at the Spar supermercat and then ate a very easy dinner (pasta, basically)-- well, the kids' dinner was easy. I made something more elaborate for Eric and I because I could not resist using the fresh tomatoes, eggplant, and bell peppers the hosts left us from their garden! Gorgeous! Poor Rowan couldn't actually settle in and fall asleep until like 1 a.m.! It was pretty hot upstairs, even though we turned all of the a/c units on, but there was not one in the kids' room itself. The room did eventually cool down, but it was steamy at first.
Anyway, this post has been long enough, but I have to talk about the Fort-Knox-style security measures that these holiday homes have in my next post. It really was puzzling to me and Eric -- like, belt+suspenders+another belt+a gate . . . you get the metaphor ;) It is now Thursday evening and I am going to sign off. I will tell you of our Thursday adventures on the beautiful Costa Brava in my next post!
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Cat and Mouse
A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction! Events in this story occur well after the romantic epilogue. Approx. 2400 words.
First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden
Previous: Deals
Mitsuhide spent the next few days after the mafia encounter working with his reformed bandits. They were the closest thing to a network of contacts that he had in this world. Plus they were useful to keep an extra eye on his beloved little one. Itsuko was the most reliable of the three. He could follow without being seen and proved his value by guiding the chatelaine away from possible danger without her realizing she was being led.
Daiki was less skillful, and his little mouse often spotted him. Miyake took to calling Daiki The Bull for how he charged into situations, but he did try. And then there was Souta.
Mitsuhide left Souta to his studies mostly. The boy had a passion only just discovered, and the last thing Mitsuhide wanted to do was dim that fire.
He met the three of them in an alleyway bar to talk about the work so far. While Mitsuhide saw no sign of the mafia’s presence, this world was strange to him and he knew he might have missed something.
Itsuko shrugged at the question. “Hard to say. If someone’s watching your girl, they are good at keeping out of sight. Or there’s enough of ‘em not to notice a familiar face after a few days.”
Souta frowned. “I could take a couple days off school to pitch in. Maybe I’ll spot something Itsuko’s missed.”
Mitsuhide shook his head. “No. You are of more use to me educated. You will continue in your studies.” He turned his attention to Daiki. “What about you? Anything to report?”
“Other than that your girl has a fine a-ah-ah! Ouch!” Daiki winced as Itsuko grabbed his ear and twisted it.
“We don’t talk about her like that. She’s a lady. Try again,” Itsuko told him. He didn’t let go of Daiki’s ear.
Mitsuhide said nothing, glad to see the three of them managing without his intervention.
Daiki gave his friend a glare but nodded. “Yeah, so no. I didn’t see anything worth reporting.”
“What did you see?” Mitsuhide’s full attention fell on the boy, pinning him with those inscrutable golden eyes.
“N-nothing, really. I mean . . . sometimes a sedan? By the clothing designer? But like, I’m pretty sure it’s just somebody who lives or works nearby.” Daiki stumbled over the words. “They drove off when I walked over, but who wouldn’t? I mean, I still look like a thug, right?”
Itsuko chuckled. “You always will.”
Mitsuhide well remembered the car parked near the shrine where their wedding would be held. He frowned. “We need to find out who is in that car. If you are right, then we can apologize. Tell them we mistook them for someone else. But if it’s not just some resident . . .”
Daiki grinned. “Then it’s time to put some of our training to work?” He cracked his knuckles.
“Next time you see the vehicle, don’t approach. Let Itsuko move forward. He can look as if he’s just passing by and then -”
“Lord Akechi!” Miyake’s distant shout broke into their conversation. He came running up, his clothes filthy, hair disheveled. And he was alone. The chatelaine was not with him, as she should be.
Mitsuhide felt a sudden sinking sensation in his gut as if struck.
Miyake stumbled to a stop in front of the four men. He was breathless, his motions erratic. “The - the shop. Sewing. They - it - fire! I-it burned. The, the girls . . .”
“Where is she?” Mitsuhide grabbed his vassal by the shoulders and shook him.
“Kei . . . and Masako took them. To the hospital.” Miyake fumbled for his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Here.”
Mitsuhide read the characters on the glowing screen. He understood it was a location, but where?
“I know where that is,” Itsuko said into the tense silence. “If you have your phone, I can put the address in and you can see it on a map.”
“I don’t carry one.” Which was true. He forgot it all the time, much to his little one’s annoyance. When he would come back from the university or his errands, he would have several messages and pictures from her.
Itsuko shrugged, “That’s fine. We’ll just use his.” He took the phone from Miyake’s trembling hands and pulled up a map, with dots to show where they were and where they needed to go.
The hospital was a few blocks away, but close enough to walk. Mitsuhide set off at a run, with the three reformed bandits in his wake, and Miyake tiredly following. He knew he should have questioned his vassal more thoroughly. Gotten the details, the scope of this fire. But all Mitsuhide could think of was his little one, hurt. He could ask for an explanation after he saw her with his own eyes and dispelled the cold dread devouring his heart.
***
Kyubei stood in the shadows, watching. It suited him more than the spotlight, he thought. Hideyoshi and Nobunaga were finalizing the alliance with the Mouri clan. Already, Mouri ships were on their way to Sakai, swift and deadly. The heavier Oda vessels followed to provide support. Kichou and the shogun-in-exile would have nowhere to flee to now.
Mitsuhide should be here, Kyubei thought. He wasn’t sure if this alliance was in the greater plans Akechi wrought before his disappearance. His lord only shared what was needed as it was needed. Neither of them expected this sudden absence. Mitsuhide had been gone for months now, and the rumors were divided on it.
Either Akechi was dead or secretly on the side of Ashikaga. Or that he’d fled to the west to avoid punishment for betraying all sides. Only Nobunaga and Kyubei knew the truth. But neither of them could say when or if Mitsuhide and the chatelaine would return.
Which left Kyubei here, with the heavy weight of responsibility for the Akechi network or spies and assassins. He sighed. This was a promotion he’d neither expected nor desired. Every day, he hoped to see his lord return with his sharp grin and sharper wit, an explanation on his lips that was half lie and all misdirection, and a plan in place that would set all the pieces to rights.
“You look glum, chum!” Keiji’s stage whisper was loud enough that Hideyoshi glanced their way with a disapproving frown.
Kyubei tried to hide behind a stoic expression. “I didn’t hear you approach. Is there something you need, Maeda?”
Keiji’s eyes shone. “Sure thing. I happened to be in town and thought hey! That poor vassal’s got a ton of extra work. I bet he could use a break. So-”
Hideyoshi cleared his throat and made a gesture for them to leave.
“You’ve disturbed Toyotomi. Come. You can bark at me outside.” Kyubei led Keiji out into the brilliant sunlight.
The redhead was in no way disturbed by Kyubei’s disapproval. “Perfect! Let’s head to this great teahouse I know. They have this blend, supposedly the best tea in the whole region. I haven’t tried it yet. I thought, hey, perfect! You can get a break and I can treat us both to something new.”
“Maeda. Have you lost your mind? I need to be here in case a message arrives.” Kyubei gave him his most annoyed look, one he saved for pushy vendors and scamming beggars.
Keiji laughed and then the smile fell from his face as if it had never been there. “Here I thought Akechi’s vassals would have his ability to read between the lines. I’m not asking you out for your health, dolt. I need you to meet someone. Someone that can’t walk into an Oda stronghold.”
Kyubei was taken aback by the acidic tone and the flat annoyance in Maeda’s voice. It was a complete shift from his usual, jovial self. “If that is the case, then let’s hurry. This had better not be a joke.” His response was no less tart, both as a result of his mood and irritation that he’d misread the man.
They made it to the city center, and stopped at a bustling teahouse. The owner clearly expected them. She greeted them with a slight bow and then hurried both men to a private space at the back of the building. A large window overlooked a blooming garden with a high wall at the far end, all the flowers and plants low to the ground. A spot it would be hard for an eavesdropper to sneak up on, and one a spy would have difficulty seeing into.
Kyubei and Keiji sat in stony silence for several tense seconds before a third man joined them. Of course, Kyubei recognized him instantly. Kanetsugu. The right hand man to the God of War. He said nothing, only watched and waited to see what this was about. His body tensed, ready for whatever may come.
Keiji laughed. “Don’t look so stiff, Kyubei. Kanetsugu’s not here in an official capacity. He’s a friend.”
Kanetsugu nodded. “This is correct.” He sat beside them, his cool elegance a direct counterpoint to Maeda.
“I see. Then greetings. As a friend.” Kyubei allowed a small smile and visibly relaxed. It was a trick Mitsuhide taught him, to seem unguarded while maintaining readiness.
The tea arrived a moment later, giving the three an excuse for a longer quiet study of the others. And, to be fair to Maeda, the tea was quite good. He made a mental note to recommend this place, in the event his lord and the chatelaine ever returned.
“So, now we all had some time to relax, let’s have a chat. Kanetsugu, seen any good plays lately?” Keiji’s voice felt overloud and bright for the small space, but the other man didn’t seem to mind.
“No. There is little travel in the Uesugi-Takeda provinces right now. You are not the only ones troubled by Kicho and his pretender shogun.” Kanetsugu’s lips twisted in a grimace. “We have been chasing raiders too well armed to be bandits. They steal and burn what they don’t take.” His disapproval for such tactics was clear.
Maeda nodded. “We saw some of that too. Mostly river raiders. But that should let up now, with the Mouri on our side.”
Kanetsugu gave Keiji a sour smile. “On your side, perhaps.” He took a sip of his tea. “It is nothing my lord cannot handle. Though . . .”
Kyubei felt the outline of a hook in the bait of whatever words lay unsaid. Part of him wanted to tug the line, but he had no intention of being caught up in whatever scheme Maeda was hatching. “Good to know. I wish you well in attending to your affairs then.”
Keiji frowned. “Anything you can share? As friends?”
“I suppose you already are aware through your connections with the Ikko Ikki. Takeda is ill and unable to fight. Yukimura is leading the battles now, though Shingen still assists with tactics and strategy when he can.”
“That is unfortunate.” Kyubei took a breath. “We were apprised of his condition.” And here it was. Did Kanetsugu suspect the Oda of causing Takeda’s illness? Or was this cover for something else?
Kanetsugu looked to the side, his lips a thin line of displeasure. “My lord’s ninja, Sarutobi, used to provide a concoction when Takeda’s illness grew worse. It helped. Greatly. But as you also know, the ninja is missing. He left the same night your lord did.”
Ah this again. Kyubei nodded. “Yes. They disappeared from the same city on the same night. I don’t know more than anyone else.” Which was a lie, but not a very big one.
Keiji waved a hand in the air. “It’s not about that. Not directly.”
“Right. It’s the concoction. My lord has tasked me with reproducing it.” Kanetsugu gave a tired sigh. “I’ve taken it to several reputable pharmacists, but have had no luck. Even the Takeda physician Nagata is uncertain what it may contain.”
“And you think I can assist?” Kyubei couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice.
Maeda nodded eagerly. “You know poisons. You kept an eye on the chatelaine and Sarutobi - and they come from the same village. I thought, maybe, you would know something.”
“I do know poisons. And restoratives. But none of it comes from the chatelaine and her friend. Why would you think I-”
“Please.” Kanetsugu’s voice was soft, barely audible. “I can’t return empty handed.”
Kyubei rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had a thousand other worries. More tasks than there were hours in a day. “Even if I could find something, I don’t have time to look. There is no point in this. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He made to stand but Maeda stopped him.
“I’ll help. Whatever you need me to do. Run messages. Take notes. Anything. I already asked Lord Oda for permission too, and he said yes. If you agreed.” Keiji’s words were sharp, rapid fire, insistent.
Kanetsugu gave his friend a flat look. “It’s fine. This is likely a fool’s errand without Sarutobi to help. I expect Kyubei would be as lost as we are in determining the origin of this medicine. We shouldn’t have bothered him.”
Now, Kyubei was very familiar with this tactic. The ego-tug. Stating an opposite outcome from the desired one with the intent of challenging an opponent to do the very thing they did not wish to. But even knowing he was being maneuvered, the lure was strong. He was Kyubei, vassal and right hand of the Akechi. He could discover any secret he set his mind to. Even something like this.
Keiji let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry Kyub. I shouldn’t have tried to pull you in on this. But hey! My offer to help you out is still good.”
“Kyubei. Not . . . Kyub. And. I might have some time to look into this.” He grimaced. “I’ll need a sample, of course. And a detailed description of how it was administered, the immediate effects, and any long term effects.”
Keiji grinned and clapped him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Yeah! Least we can do is try.”
“I have your requested information here, and a small sample of the medicine.” Kanetsugu handed over a small, wrapped scroll and waxed paper sachet.
Despite knowing he was being played, Kyubei felt a thrill at a new mystery to unravel. He cursed himself for being a fool as he took the items and pocketed them away. At least, he thought, he’d won an assistant from this deal.
Next: On Vengeance
#ikemen sengoku#ikesen mitsuhide#mitsuhide akechi#ikesen kyubei#fluff#drama#fanfiction#fanfic#otome#otome guys
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- Watched - Pt.4
(Mammon x GN!MC)
** TW: swearing, kidnapping, religion, abuse, blood, death (if I missed any I do apologize!)
He smiled wickedly as he turned around, going back to the table he’d been at earlier and picked up the same knife he’d held to you when he kidnapped you. The only other weapons you could see on the table were a baton and a taser. There was also a thick book you could only assume was a bible and a large jar of water. The most concerning however, was the gas can, thick work gloves, and what looked a lot like a body bag.
“This may call for a more extensive purification.”
-
Your heartbeat quickened, breathing becoming slightly erratic. Your eyes widened at the scene laid out before you, but you tried your best to hold your resolve.
Whatever he plans to do, even if this is where your time on this Earth comes to an end, you didn’t plan to give him the satisfaction of conforming to his insane, backwoods ideologies. For your most beloved demons, and the love of your life, you were ready to fight until the bitter end.
After leaving the coffee shop, Mammon made his way back to your house to come up with a plan. As he rushed back, he got a brilliant idea and immediately made a phone call.
Given their status and connections, he was sure that at least a few of his brothers would be able to dig up info on this Alex dude and the ATA, however he couldn’t risk any of them finding out what was going on, for fear it’d get back to Lucifer, so he had to be extremely careful.
“Ugh, what do you want, Mammon? I’m in the middle of a raid right now.”
Levi seemed like the least likely to get too curious and ask questions, especially since Mammon was the one asking. No way would Levi want to end up being part of one of his usual schemes. And since he rarely comes out of his room or socializes with others, Levi was definitely the best one for the job.
“I need a favor.” Mammon could hear the slight clacking sound of Levi’s controller in the background.
“Nope. No way. Your “favors” always end badly; for everyone involved. Goodbye.” He declined immediately, wanting to hang up and get back to his raid.
“Wait, Levi! It’s real important!” The second born begged. Levi could hear the desperation; the emotion in his brothers voice. His interest was piqued now, along with an uneasy feeling in his stomach.
“What is it?” He asked with a sigh, casting his controller aside.
“I need ya to dig into a group called the ATA.”
“ATA?”
“Yeah, it’s the “Anti Treaty Association”, they’re in the human world. And see if ya can find anythin’ on a guy named Alex who might be associated with ‘em.”
“Anti Treaty..? As in the peace treaty? Mammon, what did you-”
“I’ll explain everythin’ later, okay? Just.. please, Levi? I need ya to look into it.” The level of sheer desperation in Mammon’s voice was concerning, but he didn’t push the issue.
“Okay, okay. Hang on..”
The sound of Levi’s fingers rapidly clicking across his keyboard flooded Mammon’s ears for the next few minutes.
“Okay, so the group was founded not long after the Devildom exchange program was formally announced. They started small but grew in number quickly; looks like mostly religious extremists. They hold protests at any event involving relations between our world and the human world. Let’s see..” Levi went quiet for a few seconds as he scanned his monitor.
“It looks like some of the members have a clean record, aside from a couple parking tickets, but there are a few bad apples. Most of the charges consist of harassment, disorderly conduct and destruction of property, all of the incidents taking place at protests. All of them were first time offenders, and have stayed out of trouble since then.”
“Anythin’ about an Alex?”
“Hmm, nope. Do you have a last name maybe? Or literally any other info? I can’t do much with just a first name, especially a common one.”
“Umm, he drives a really old car and he works at a take out place as a delivery driver.” Mammon proceeded to give him the name of the restaurant.
Levi began tapping away on his keyboard again, scanning all the social medias and websites associated with the group and the take out place, looking for anything related to the clues Mammon gave him. Without much to go on, he wasn’t very hopeful and began to lose courage, then he finally got something.
“I got a hit on a few social media accounts related to the ATA. I was able to find some pictures with a crappy older model car in them that were taken at some of their protests a few months back, one of the pictures had a shot of the license plate. After doing a quick search of public record, the car came back as registered to a John A. Smith, who actually died a few years back..”
Mammon sighed, feeling dejected. That information was all he had, and it may not have even been enough to be helpful.
“Wait..” Levi suddenly said, pulling Mammon from his thoughts.
“His obituary says he had one child; a son named John Smith Jr. I can’t find him on social media under that name, but if we assume the middle initial “A” stands for say, Alexander, then I may have something. I found an Alex Smith, and it’s honestly gotta be him. He’s a member of the official ATA group page, and several others like it. His profile picture has a crappy looking car in it, granted it’s mostly cropped out, but it looks a lot like the one I ran the license plate number on. I’m confident that this is your guy.”
Mammon felt like he could breathe a little easier. Another piece of the puzzle had, hopefully, come together.
“Where do I find him?”
“Not sure. His last location was near the middle of nowhere, but it hasn’t pinged anything for quite some time. I’ll send you the coordinates.”
“Thanks, Levi. I owe ya big time.”
“Yeah. Uh, Mammon? I know you said you’d tell me later, but is everything alright? You’ve never asked me to do something like this before. It kinda feels like you’re looking for someone..”
He waited for his brother to stutter out some kind of excuse to explain it away like he always did when he got himself into some kind of trouble, but he didn’t. Which only made more red flags pop up for Levi.
“If anyone asks, especially Lucifer, this never happened and ya haven’t heard from me, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay, Mammon..”
He didn’t like the feeling he had, the gut instinct and the hair that stood up on the back of his neck that told him something was seriously wrong.
After he hung up with his brother, he decided to dig a little deeper. He traced Mammon’s phone and found him at a location nearby the restaurant he’d had him research. His awful, suspicious feeling was confirmed when his brother’s location came back as one in the human world. A little extra digging of public land records and it pinged as your house. His heart sank as he thought about the urgency and desperation in his brother’s voice.
He traced your phone, but it just showed the same location as Mammon. But, if you were there, why would he be so frantic? His stomach churned when he realized that there were only a few things that would cause Mammon such distress, and seeing as how he was apparently in the human world, at your house, desperate to find some random dude, it couldn’t be good. Whatever was going on definitely involved you. That thought alone made him sick to his stomach.
“I hope I’m wrong. Please be okay, MC.”
-
*bzzz* *bzzz*
Mammon opened the new text message from Levi, which contained the coordinates to Alex’s last known location.
“MC has gotta be somewhere near this location. If not, maybe I’ll be able to pick up their trail.”
He was pacing around the living room, going over possible plans for his next move. Thankfully it would be dark soon and there was also a pretty big storm rolling in, which would provide the perfect cover for him to scout from the skies. Heavy wind and rain would make it nearly impossible to pick up your scent though.
He went into your bedroom to retrieve something of yours that would be heavy with your scent, like your favorite jacket or maybe a pillowcase. As he looked around the room, he spotted a strip of pictures shoved in the frame of the mirror on your dresser. A warm smile spread across his face.
It was of the two of you, not too long after you’d officially started dating. He remembered that particular day very well. You’d decided to walk the cobblestone streets of the Devildom, much like you often did together, but this was different. There wasn’t anymore of that “trying to pretend neither one of you had feelings for the other” junk. It was just..real. You were actually his. He reminisced about how warm your hand felt in his, the way his stomach erupted in butterflies when you looked at him with pure excitement after you’d stumbled upon the photo booth. The way you threw yourself at him, locking your lips onto his for the last picture; the shade of red your cheeks turned when you pulled apart.
That day was one of his favorite memories of you. You were so happy and full of life; looking at him with such excitement and love.
The haunting reality came creeping back in on him, sending his beautiful trip down memory lane, spiraling into despair. There he stood, alone in your bedroom, while you were gone. Taken, by some psychopath. His whole world, snatched right from underneath him as he sat down the hall.
The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. How could he? He should’ve been there. He shouldn’t have let you answer the door. He should’ve done something, anything.
“I knew somethin’ didn’t feel right, and I should’ve listened to what my gut was tryin’ to tell me. This is all my fault..” He ran his finger over the pictures on the mirror, letting a few tears escape before aggressively wiping them away.
“I will find ya, MC. And I promise that I’ll make ya safe again, I swear it.”
He felt a sudden vibration in the floor followed quickly by a deep rumble from outside.
The storm’s comin’. It’s time to move.
He grabbed the shirt you had worn the day before from the hamper and quickly smelled it to make sure your scent was strong enough. From the way it made his heart twist in agony, he was sure it would do just fine.
He shifted into demon form and headed straight for the door. With the approaching storm, it was dark enough now that he could fly and remain unseen. Since he was by himself and up against the unknown, having the element of surprise would come in handy.
“When I find that piece of shit, he’ll understand why I hold the rank of the second strongest of the Avatars.” He growled into the dark of the night as he stepped out onto the front porch.
With that, he shot up into the night sky, stealthy and silent.
-
“Extensive purification? Is that what the body bag is for?” You asked audaciously.
Naturally, you were scared. This mad man kidnapped you at your own damn house in broad daylight and drug you to what you could only assume was the middle of nowhere to tie you up and torture you. So yeah, you were pretty fucking wigged out to say the least.
But, did that mean you would back down? Let him know you were scared so he had the extra control over you? Make him feel like he was winning?
Absolutely not. You’d never give him the satisfaction. On the inside you were shaking, writhing in terror; begging for Mammon to come and save you. But on the outside? You were taking none of his shit, and playing zero games. If you were going to die here, you planned on going out as uncooperative as you could. Fuck him.
“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” He turned around to face you from where he’d been at his make shift work table, with the taser in his hand. He closed the gap between you, keeping his eyes locked on yours, and leaned down until he was just inches from your face. “The night is still young though.”
“Then why not just kill me now? Get it over with.”
“I want to cleanse you; save your soul.” He said, as if you were crazy for not grasping that concept.
“But why? Why are you so worried about my soul? You prodded.
“Because you have chosen to lay with demons and abandon your humanity.”
“And? Who I choose to love and spend time with isn’t yours, or anyone else’s business.” You snapped back.
“You see, that’s where you’re wrong. Your part in all this; the exchange program, being close with a bunch of high ranking demons; you as a human are committing the highest level of treason by aiding in the progression of uniting the realms. You are opening the door for corruption, chaos and sin to pollute our world.”
You laughed lightly in disbelief.
“When has our world ever been free of any of those things? Do you honestly think the Celestial Realm would be part of the treaty if He wasn’t on board with it? Stop blaming others because you’re close minded. Your blatant hatred for others is your fault, your sin. No one else’s.”
His face turned red and his expression changed into one of anger at the mention of Him. He stormed off toward the work table.
“And by the way, none of this-” You wiggled your fingers around as best as you could in an attempt to gesture around you, “is free of sin. Pretty sure He would frown upon this. Maybe even more so than my relationship with his sons.” You couldn’t help but smirk at your own jab.
He turned back to face you, bible in hand and quickly walked back to where you were hanging, and knelt down into your face again.
“It’s time to begin.” He said with sick, sadistic smile on his face; ignoring what you’d said.
With one quick movement, he lifted you off the giant hook your hand restraints hung from; letting go of you when you were a few feet from the ground, slightly knocking the wind out of you. Although you were being a little mouthy, you still felt pretty weak from being trapped inside that trunk. Not to mention that your shoulders were killing you from being suspended for so long.
He pulled you across the concrete floor by the hand restraint, stopping once he reached the stock tank. He opened up his bible and laid it on a little table near the side of the tank. He picked you up easily and climbed into the water. Even with as hot as it is, the water was frigid. It was only about four feet deep, but being restrained and unable to move freely, you would easily drown if Alex didn’t keep hold of you.
He stood at your side, facing you with his hands firmly grasping your arms right below your shoulders. He started reciting scripture from memory, glancing back at the open bible a few times for reference. He began to repeatedly dunk your head below the surface of the icy water. He recited the same passages over and over again, making it easier for you to figure out when to hold your breath. Although, a few times he seemed to hold you under a little too long, leaving you gasping for air when you returned to the surface.
When the never-ending baptizing finally did come to an end, he plucked from the water and returned you back to where you had been suspended. You were shivering uncontrollably and your head was pounding. No doubt from lack of oxygen after having to hold your breath, then gasp for air more times than you could possibly count. The added weight of your dripping wet clothes added to the searing pain in your shoulders.
He went over to the work table and grabbed the big jar of water you’d seen earlier. He dipped his fingers in it and flicked it at you whole reciting scripture. You assumed that it was holy water.
As you listened to him drone on and on, you found it hard to stay conscious. You haven’t really felt right since getting out of that scorching trunk; you most likely had heat exhaustion.
“Does being saved from eternal damnation bore you?”
“No, just you.” You replied weakly, looking up at him and trying to muster a smirk.
“Is that so?” He challenged.
He abruptly turned around and went back to the work table, returning a moment later sporting the thick work gloves you’d seen earlier, carrying the taser in his hand.
“Then I suppose we need to take it up a notch.”
-
Mammon went straight to the coordinates Levi sent him, but found nothing except dirt roads and cow pastures. Even from an aerial point of view there wasn’t much to see. After circling the area several times, he landed atop a tree in a densely wooded area. Although it was pretty dark out here in the middle of nowhere, far from civilization, he still couldn’t risk being seen as Alex could be watching; waiting for him to come for you.
“Where are ya, MC?” He quietly asked aloud, eyes continuing to scan the darkness that enveloped his surroundings.
With every passing minute his heart grew heavier, his chest tighter. It felt as if he couldn’t breathe properly. As cliche as it sounded, you were his literal heart; his entire world.
Before you came to the Devildom, he thought he had it all figured out. Stealing and gambling, partying every night, spending money like there was no tomorrow, making shady deals with witches. He was living what he considered the luxurious life of a high roller and he couldn’t get enough of it.
Then you came along, and he was forced to be your guardian or sorts and look after you. It was such a pain. You made it harder for him to give Lucifer the slip so he could go on gambling binges and live up to his title. But, being the weak, magic-less human you were, you needed constant protection.
It didn’t take long before being your protector became something more than what he was ordered to do. He needed to be the one to watch over you, the poor helpless human. His human. As soon as he got a taste of what it felt like to be around you, he couldn’t get enough. He was hooked.
Your smile and the sound of your laughter, the face you make when you’re concentrating or how you pooch your lips out when you’re getting irritated. The never ending kindness you showed him, especially when he was less than friendly at first. Even during those early days, just simply being near you brought him a sense of peace and warmth. The energy you radiated was intoxicating. Before he realized what was happening, he was a lost cause; completely wrapped around your finger.
If someone were to have told him he’d end up completely smitten with a human, he would’ve called them crazy. The Great Mammon would never waste his precious time on something that didn’t involve Grimm and how to obtain and/or spend it, much less a human. Smitten is precisely what he was though, to say the least. Not that it bothered him in the slightest.
He’s been around for thousands of years, and never once has his heart beat the way it does now. He’d always known love because of his siblings, and even the great loss of a loved one when Lilith died. While he would move mountains and do anything for his family, and even lay his life down for them, the way he felt about you was completely different. He would do all those things for you as well, and so much more. You knew him on a different level, a way no one else ever had in all his existence.
Relationships were never really his thing. Sure, he’d had plenty of flings, but most of them only cared about what they could get out of being with the Avatar of Greed, not that it really bothered him. He pretty much only got involved with people when the bitter loneliness became too much to bear. Love isn’t typically something that happens for demons, not that he was looking for it anyway. But, sometimes it was nice to have someone to hold, to feel the warmth of another. Even if he didn’t remember their name. Not that they, or he for that matter, really cared.
Which is why he was so perplexed by the feelings you stirred up inside him. He was one of the strongest rulers of the underworld, who could probably have any succubus he wanted, so why was he becoming increasingly enthralled by you? A completely ordinary human. Or so he thought, anyway. No ordinary human would’ve been able to knock him off his feet the way you had. You were special. You made him feel.
You were kind, warm, headstrong and funny. You’d even put your own life in danger to save those who were much stronger than you, like that time with Beel and Luke in the underground tomb; not because you thought you would win the fight, but because it was the right thing to do. He’d never witnessed such bravery, such selflessness in a human. Especially not when it came to protecting a demon, someone who would be deemed unworthy of such an act simply because of what he was. This once weak, irrelevant human, was now one of the people he respected most. You’re undying love and kindness for others was one of the infinite things that made him fall for you.
He clutched your shirt tightly in his hand, bringing it up to his face and burying his nose into the fabric. He breathed in your scent, filling his lungs as much as he could. He needed to keep the smell fresh in his mind, in hopes of picking up your trail. Tears began to prick his eyes. All the memories of you were nearly too much to handle. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t.
He had no idea what this freak had planned, but he knew it couldn’t be good. The clock was ticking. The more time that passed, the harder it would be to find you. He looked out into the night again, hoping to see anything that might point him in your direction, but there was nothing. The only sounds came from the cows in all the pastures around the area, and a very faint humming noise off in the distance. He couldn’t see any signs of the car or any other clues, but he refused to give up.
“Alright, MC. C’mon, talk to me. Where are ya?” He said, getting ready to take to the skies once more to scan the area. Then it hit him, sending a shiver down his spine. He whipped his head to the right, and breathed in deeply.
MC!!
He took another long breath in, to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. It was definitely your scent. It was very faint, and muddled with something else, iron maybe? But there was no doubt it was yours. Like a shot, he flew in the direction your scent was coming from. The incoming storm was making it hard to stay on the trail, but he was not going to lose it now. He was almost there. Almost to you. There’s no way he was backing down.
A minute or so later he could see the faint glow of a light in the distance. It looked like it was coming from a barn or something. Your scent was getting stronger and stronger as he closed in on the building.
That’s gotta be it!
He landed on top of the building with a thud; coming in a little faster than he intended thanks to the increasing intensity of the storm. He paused a moment, waiting to see if his brilliant entrance had caused any kind of movement. When he didn’t hear anything, he moved to the edge of the roof to have a look around. There was a lot of overgrowth around most of the building, and some spots in the roof seemed to give a little. If he wasn’t careful he might end up crashing through the ceiling. It wasn’t a barn, but more like a warehouse or something.
He walked the perimeter of the roof, looking over the side for any kind of clues. There was nothing out front, and the sides of the building were all overgrown with vines and other greenery. He peaked over the side of the roof near the back of the building and tensed. He could see the car that matched the description of Alex’s, hidden underneath loose foliage in what looked like a poor attempt to conceal it.
I knew it He thought, his heart beginning to race.
He remembered seeing an industrial ventilation fan on the side of the building before he landed, and quietly rushed over to it, crouching down slightly on the maintenance access platform.
By now, the storm was raging full force. The rain was coming down in sheets, the thunder booming as lightning lit up the night sky. The fan was pretty rusted but thanks to the thunder, he was able to crack open the slats slightly without being heard. The sight he was met with made his blood boil, prompting him to let out a guttural animalistic growl that rumbled deep in his chest. The iron smell mixed with your scent he’d smelled earlier, was blood.
Anger like he’d never felt before burned deep inside his very being worse than the raging storm around him, truly making his demon side come out. He never had any intentions of letting this psycho walk away from this, but now it was going to be a lot less humane. The witch’s words came rushing back to him.
‘Bring me the heart of a mammal, not of our world, that thrives on malice and sadism. If you cannot fulfill your end of the deal, I will place a curse on you until the ends of eternity that will make everything of value you come in contact with turn to ash.’
Mammon smiled viciously. Looks like he’d be able to fulfill his end of the bargain with the witch after all.
-
The “cleansing” quickly shifted from that of something considered somewhat normal, to something very far from it. Nothing about it could be considered holy anymore.
“Are you going to denounce your demonic pacts and sinful ways and conform?”
You lifted your head weakly to glare at him, “Never.” You snarled between staggered breaths. His face twisted in anger.
Blow after blow landed on your weak, fragile body. You spit out yet another mouthful of blood, the wet sounds echoing in the large room as it splattered onto the floor. Needless to say, you were in pretty bad shape.
Blood ran down your face from a laceration on your brow bone. Your lip was busted pretty bad and you had at least a few cuts inside your mouth from your teeth puncturing the skin on your cheeks and lips. You assumed you had some ribs that were at least cracked seeing as it had become pretty painful to breathe. All the spots he tased you in burned like fire, no doubt blistering up badly. He’d held it in the same spot for so long that you could smell your own hair and flesh burning.
There wasn’t much you could do in the way of fighting back, but you sure tried like hell in the beginning. But now you were way too weak, barely even able to scream out in pain. You’d already come to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn’t make it out of here. The reality of never seeing Mammon again swarmed you, tearing away the last bit of resolve you had left. You forced yourself to remember all the time you’d spent with him, making sure he was the only thing you thought of as you began to slowly depart from this world.
You would forever be grateful for the time you had with him and all the amazing memories you were able to make. Movie nights, staying up too late talking and laughing, trying and failing to hide from Lucifer after pranking him.
The way his too big of a hand completely engulfed yours, the way he looked at you when you were both all dressed up for some fancy party at the Demon Lord’s castle and how much he tried to hide his face so you couldn’t see his blush while he held you close on the dance floor.
Sneaking into each other’s beds when one of you had a nightmare, the way his body felt against yours when he cuddled you; his warmth and smell. The way he tried to hide his enormous smile and pink cheeks when you’d gush like a groupie over his newest spread in a magazine.
The time he was a flustered, stuttering mess for three entire days in the beginning of your relationship, unable to hear your name or see you without turning various shades of red because every time he did, flashbacks of loving you for the first time just days before came rushing back to him.
Those intimate moments were your favorite, for more reasons than the obvious. You got to see him in a different light. He was still his usual goofy, lighthearted, prankster self, but he was so much more than that too. He was so sweet it could make your teeth rot. He was gentle, slow. You could feel the love leave him, his heart pouring over into yours. There were always stars in his eyes; pure adoration. Something you could never quite grasp; how someone who had seen the literal heavens could look at a normal human like you in such a way; with such breathtaking awe.
You always felt like you didn’t deserve to be loved by someone as amazing as Mammon, but you would always be eternally thankful. In such a short time he’d brought so much happiness and light to your life. As happy as those memories were, you wished more than anything that you’d get the chance to make more, but sadly it didn’t look that way.
As Alex was coming in to land another blow, a loud thump could be heard from above you; his fist stopped in the air a few feet from your face.
“What was that?” He questioned to himself quietly. He stayed silent for a moment as he listened for more noise, but there was nothing. “Must’ve been thunder.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to you, pulling the taser from his pocket.
“It really is a shame that you refuse to comply.” He said as he jabbed it into your ribs, causing you to use what little fire was left in you to cry out in pain. “You really were a fine specimen, until you wasted yourself on demons.” Another jab of the taser, this time on your thigh.
You choked out a weak, raspy laugh. “And I’d do it again, a million times over you sadistic, psychotic freak.” You spat, voice breaking. He reared his hand back to hit you, but was interrupted by another loud noise, this time near the entrance.
He turned toward the sound and decided to check it out this time, picking the knife up from the table on his way. He was only gone for a few minutes, but you were grateful for the break. As much as you didn’t want to give up, your body just couldn’t take much more.
He slithered back through the entrance, soaked from the down pouring rain and complaining about hearing things.
“If you didn’t have a guilty conscience, you wouldn’t be so paranoid.” You said between several pained breaths. Your voice was small and frail, but you still managed to lace some venom in your words. He snarled, storming toward you and sticking the knife under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him. You used what energy you had left to glare at him.
“It’s too bad really, that even in your darkest moments, your last moments, what’s-his-name wasn’t here to save you.” He snickered, tracing the knife from your chin to your jugular, applying just enough pressure along the way to coax out a small line of blood.
“That’d be The Great Mammon to you, human.”
Alex whipped around toward the entrance at the sudden voice, the color draining from his face as a look of sheer terror washed over him.
“M-Mammon?” You choked out, a massive lump forming in your throat. You looked around Alex, the most beautiful yet terrifying thing coming into your field of vision.
It really was him.
Seeing him in demon form was nothing new to you by now. However, the look on his face was something you’d definitely never seen before. It almost looked as if there was an aura around him; a definite shift in atmosphere at his presence. His natural sin was Greed, but right now he embodied Wrath.
It was so easy for you to forget that he really was a demon, as you’d never seen him in such a state before. The sight of him now; raw, malevolent power seeping from him, the low guttural growl, emitting such a heavy, nightmarish presence. He was scary. Even to you.
“MC..” There was pain in his voice; his face distorting in agony when he looked at you.
He charged forward, only making it a few steps before Alex swooped in. He got behind you, reaching around and keeping the knife at your throat; Mammon froze.
“Not another step.” Alex warned. “I have no qualms with spilling the blood of a traitorous demon whore that turned their back on the human race.”
Mammon stared at him blankly for a moment, then burst into laughter. It wasn’t his normal, happy laugh. It was dark, and oozed ill intent. He turned his attention to you once more, his expression softening just enough to not utterly terrify you.
“MC, do you trust me?”
“Since my first day in the Devildom.” You smiled fragilely, noticing the way his mouth briefly tugged up at the corner when your words reached him. He locked his eyes on Alex once again, dark expression returning.
“Close your eyes. No matter what you hear, don’t open them.” He instructed as he slightly crouched, getting into an attack stance; you nodded in agreement, doing as he said.
You could hear Alex huff behind you. “I will slit their throat, or did you hear what I said you filthy, abomina-”
He was silenced mid sentence by a sudden impact that jostled you slightly where you hung. You could hear gasping breaths and Mammon’s same sadistic laughter as earlier, followed by several ear splitting cracks and tearing sounds as Alex screamed out in pain; wet, squelching noises and heavy thuds rang through the room as several things hit the floor. It went on like this for several minutes, until the screams finally ceased.
You pretty well knew just by the sounds, that you were finally free; that psycho would never be able to hurt you again.
Moments later, you were lifted off the large hook and being cradled gently in arms that you knew all too well. Mammon sank to the floor, his wings wrapping around you protectively, shielding you from the gore you didn’t need to see.
“MC..” He whispered, tears running down his cheeks as his eyes scanned over your frail, broken body.
As much as you wanted to savor the moment of finally being safe, once again in the arms of your demon, the reunion would have to wait. You had been through so much and your body couldn’t take any more. You began to fade in and out of consciousness, no longer able to hold on.
“MC..? MC! Stay with me! Please, please hold on just a little longer.” He begged, his voice cracking as he patted his hand against your cheek gently. You tired to put a hand on his cheek to soothe him, but your arm fell limp halfway to his face as you lost the fight to stay awake. You heard him yell your name a few times as you drifted, his voice fading away slowly.
-
What is that infernal noise?
You had suddenly become hyper aware of an out-of-the-ordinary noise somewhere close by. An alarm clock perhaps? No, it was more of a beeping sound than a shrill ringing.
You lazily opened your eyes, immediately regretting it and squinting them shut because of a blinding white light that was shining in your face. You blinked several times as you tried to adjust.
As you scanned the room slowly, it started to look as if you were in one of the rooms in the Demon Lord’s castle, but it appeared to be set up as a hospital room of sorts. The blinding light was coming from one of the big lights they use at the dentist office. You soon discovered that the beeping noise you’d been hearing was actually one of several monitors you were hooked up to.
Everything started to fall into place and make sense, memories coming back of the events that brought you here. The monitor closest to you started to sound an alarm, indicating your heart rate had picked up and your blood pressure was rising. Seconds later the door flew open, a figure rushing into the room.
“MC.” He said, breathing a sigh of relief.
Barbatos moved to your bedside and silenced the alarms, opting to check your vitals himself.
“How do you feel?” He asked, pressing his index and middle fingers to the underside of your wrist, checking your heart rate.
“Fine, I guess?”
“You guess?” He repeated, taking a small light from his pocket and shining it in your eyes, checking the dilation of your pupils.
If you remembered correctly, which you’re very sure you did, your injuries were extensive. There’s no way you could forget that level of pain. You felt tired, kind of groggy from sleep, but there was no pain.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“About three days.”
Three days?! You thought to yourself, a little shocked.
That’s still not nearly enough time for your wounds to heal. You must have looked as confused as you felt, prompting and explanation from Barbatos.
“Your injuries were rather extensive, so Mammon brought you here after rescuing you. Lord Diavolo had the best doctors in the Devildom tend to you with magic. Although they healed you perfectly, you weren’t showing any signs of waking up just yet, so we decided to keep you here to monitor your condition.” You nodded along in understanding as he spoke.
He placed the light back in his pocket and moved away from the bed. “I shall notify Lord Diavolo and the others that you have awakened. Please excuse me.” He said as he bowed, then left the room.
You sat up in the bed and criss crossed your legs, careful not pull out your IV or tangle any of the wires to the other monitors. You let out a long, heavy sigh. Before you could be consumed by your thoughts of all the memories of the last few days, the door to your room flung open once more. This time, it was the one person you wanted to see most.
“MC!” He shouted, voice cracking with emotion. Mammon crossed the room in an instant and sat in front of you on the bed.
“Are you okay? Do ya feel any pain?” He asked frantically, his eyes scanning your face then darting to the monitors, hands hovering over you as if he wanted to help but was unsure how. You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers in his. It seemed to calm him a little.
“I’m okay.” You assured him. Although you’d been put through the wringer, you felt so at peace. Not only were you in the safest place in the entire Devildom, but the one thing that threatened your peace of mind, was now no longer a problem.
“I-I uh, I was scared.. that I was too late. That ya weren’t gonna wake up, that I’d...that I’d lost ya..” He confessed, voice catching in his throat as tears fell from his eyes. He carefully scooped you up and held you in his lap, holding you as close as he was able to with all the wires and such. You sat up a little and snaked your arms around his neck, pressing your lips firmly to his.
While you were held captive, you had been so sure that you’d never get a moment like this with Mammon ever again. You were happy beyond words to be back in his embrace once again with his lips on yours. Smelling his wonderful scent, and feeling his warmth on your skin.
After a few minutes of your lips moving in synchronization, he broke the kiss, and pulled back to look you in the eye. A serious expression washing over his face. “MC, I’m sorry I didn’t-”
You held up your hand to stop him, “No, Mammon. You’re not going to blame yourself. I won’t let you. Everything that happened was his fault, not yours or anyone else’s. He was sick in the head, with a twisted ideology.”
He nodded, “I know, I know. It’s just..” He shook his head as he tried to choke back more tears that threatened to spill. You knew exactly what was running through his mind.
“Mammon, there is no one else in the three realms I’d rather trust with my protection, than you. As a matter of fact, there’s no else that can even compare to you in my eyes. As I already said, none of this, none of it, is your fault and I’ve never once thought it was. I love you, Mammon and there’s no one else I’d rather entrust my life with, or spend it with for that matter.” You placed your hand on his cheek and smiled at him, tears now streaking your cheeks. He leaned into your touch, his hand resting lightly on top of yours for a moment before pulling your hand away and placing several light kisses on your palm.
Barbatos returned soon after, with a doctor in tow. Once they unhooked you from all the monitors and removed your IV, Mammon took you back to the House of Lamentation where everyone was awaiting your return.
It felt so good to be back. The HOL was technically your second home, but nowhere has ever felt more like home than here in the Devildom, surrounded by all your favorite people. And thanks to Lord Diavolo extending your stay until further notice, you were on cloud nine.
Although all your physical wounds were gone, the mental ones were sure to stick around for awhile. You expected as much though, having gone though quite a traumatic experience. Although, it made it a little easier knowing that Alex would never again be an issue.
It was clear that his soul wouldn’t be fit for the Celestial Realm, and you had fears of him being reincarnated in the Devildom and finding you once again. But, Mammon quickly laid those fears to rest, informing you of what he’d done that night after getting you safely to the Demon Lord’s castle.
He said he preformed some kind of ritual that ensured Alex wouldn’t be reincarnated anywhere; his soul having been wiped from the worlds. As if he’d never existed. He also mentioned something about Alex helping him to fulfill his end of a bargain with a witch. He didn’t really go into detail about the whole thing, but assured you that everything would be fine, so you didn’t push the issue. He’s a high ranking demon, after all. This surely isn’t his first rodeo. You were just ready to start the healing process and put an end to this awful chapter in life.
And with Mammon by your side; loving you, protecting you, helping you heal; you couldn’t think of a better way to begin such a beautiful new chapter.
~ fin ~
#obey me#obey me shall we date#mammon x mc#gn!mc#obey me angst#trigger warning#potentially triggering#gender neutral mc#angst#finale#mammon#obey me mammon
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Hiiii quinn! I never realised you did requests but if it would be fine (and also because its my sole goal) could you do a boom boom boi and izubby with having their own cat or dog as a pet??? I'm seriously thinking that boom boom boi would be both a cat and dog person, don't u agree? (Ily lots and don't feel pressured to do this if you have a lot of stuff going on!)
Hi Dorki! I'm finally making my way through my requests and I was really excited to write this one! Okay, hope you like it!
Quinns Masterlist
Wanna request something?
The Boys with Pets
Word Count: 1,750
Featuring: Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo!
Warnings: dogs, cats, cursing
Izuku Midoriya
Now Izuku loves pretty much all animals, but I can totally see him getting a dog. Dogs are loyal and full of energy just like a certain green-haired hero. The perfect duo.
He would probably rescue one from the pound, the one with the biggest, saddest, cutest eyes because how could he not? But someone has to go with him because he'd try to rescue them all if there was no one there to stop him. Once a hero, always a hero I suppose.
I'm thinking for names, he would definitely pick a name that reflects his favorite heroes. Don't be surprised if he names his dog something super cheesy like Mighty or Rocky…
Wait, okay, I've decided, he names his dog Mighty and that is the hill I will die on.
The life of a hero is quite busy so when he goes off on long missions, he drops the dog off at his mom's house. Inko has fallen in love with this sweet pup, so much so that she sometimes begs him to stop by with the dog for a visit. It's the closest thing she's got to grandbabies at the moment, she'll take what she can get :)
Now, this cute pup draws in the attention of just about everyone so he's gotten an influx of attention and a few numbers slipped in his hand during their walks, much to his flustered surprise.
Best wingman ever.
This dog goes on regular runs with Izuku and sometimes even helps him with training. I'm thinking a Collie or an Aussie would just be the perfect fit for him to keep up with his personality and lifestyle. He needs an active dog!
I can see it now, he goes on his daily morning runs with this cute Lil furry training buddy and they race the whole way! A few regulars on the trail know about this and it's become sort of a tradition to cheer the two on as they pass.
...
The morning air was crisp with the slight scent of the coming autumn, the perfect morning for a run. Izuku, dressed in his usual training wear, had a steady rhythm going for the last forty minutes, letting out even, controlled breaths. This was the easy part of the run, a warm-up if anything, and he hadn't even broken a sweat yet. The canine jogging by his side was enjoying the dewy morning air as well, tongue happily flopping out the side of her mouth. The shared morning ritual between man and man's best friend: Mighty.
Her tail picked up speed, wagging uncontrollably as they neared the bend where the giant jagged rock towered over the path. It was the place marker to start the race. A three-mile run to the top of the hill located at the center of the park. It was also Mighty's favorite part of the morning.
"Ready girl?" Izuku grinned down at the ecstatic dog who barked in reply.
The instant the two of them passed the big rock, they both broke out in full speed, leaving behind a cloud of dust. Happy barks filled the air as she gained the upper hand. Izuku laughed as the dog turned to look back at him lagging behind her. He always did these races without his quirk to assist him. It was only fair and it helped him work on his natural stamina in case he was ever in a situation where he couldn't use his quirk. Always good to be prepared.
He watched as she bounded up the first steep hill on the trail. There were a few small hills on this route, but this one was the hardest to climb and Mighty had the advantage with her four legs so she always managed to pull ahead first. She stopped at the top and barked him on before quickly disappearing over the crest.
When he reached the top, he stopped for just a second to take in his surroundings. This part of the park was a heavily wooded area with numerous trails that many people used to hike or run. It also served as a great view of the city skyline and he couldn't help but stop and admire the rising sun from between the foggy buildings every time. Then Mighty barked to pull him out of his thoughts.
"It's not over yet!" He called after her and raced down the hill, putting on an extra burst of speed to easily close the distance.
Tail wagging, she nipped playfully at his feet as they sprinted along the path, side by side. There weren't many people out this early so he usually had the trail to himself. The only sounds were the wind in the trees, the leaves crunching under feet and paws, Mighty barking beside him, and his own unrestrained glee as they ran together.
These were the mornings he loved. Just the two of them, away from the stresses that came with pro-hero work. He wouldn't trade being a hero for anything, but sometimes it got to be too much so coming here to clear his mind with a little run was always a cathartic release, only made better by the furry companion by his side.
The short bridge that arched over the creek signaled the last mile. Getting more serious, Izuku pulled ahead of Mighty, not able to hold back the giant grin as he streaked across the bridge, startling a few birds off the railings which Mighty barked at as she came up behind him.
Up ahead was a large open meadow with a small duck pond near the center. A few benches were scattered about the path and he saw the same elderly couple sitting in their usual spot with a bag of rice and seed to feed the plethora of ducks waddling around their feet.
"You got him this time Mighty!" The old man looked up as the two of them zipped down the path towards the couple.
"Show 'em what girls can do!" The woman cracked a smile, waving her hands.
"Morning Mr. and Mrs. Fujino!" Izuku waved as he passed. "Don't count me out yet!"
Mighty barked her greeting and took a detour, herding some ducks closer to the couple then with a quick lick to Mr. Fujino's hand, she sprinted back to catch up to Izuku.
The Fujino's marked the last leg of the race. The only thing left was to climb the top of the largest hill in the park to the old oak tree at the top. That was the finishing line. It was always a gamble as to who finished first every day, but Mighty sure had a competitive spirit.
Izuku pumped his legs as he steadily made his way up to the dirt trail, Mighty just behind him before she suddenly veered left and disappeared into the shrubbery. He was so focused on the tree that slowly came into view just around the curve as he neared the top that he didn't notice.
Just as the path leveled out, almost to the finish line, he glanced back to see no sign of his dog. The tree was a few feet away when a furry mass ambushed him from the side, knocking him clean off his feet. The pro hero landed in the grass with a heavy Oof. Sitting on his chest was Mighty, looking quite proud of herself.
"Cheater!" He laughed, trying his best to hold back the slobbery licks she was determined to give him. "Okay, okay, I'll call it a tie!"
Katsuki Bakugo
Now Katsuki on the other hand would totally be a cat person. Not that he has anything against dogs, but cats are more his style. They don't need constant attention and are pretty much self-sufficient. Just the way he likes it.
That being said, Katuski would go all out on toys and the latest gizmos to take care of his cat. Has a self-cleaning litter box, a waterfall bowl, an automatic feeder, etc. You get the picture.
Oh, and toys galore. If he has space, this cat is getting a personal jungle gym that lets him walk up to the ceiling. S.P.O.I.L.E.D.
Doesn't like to tell people just how much he actually loves this cat because he's never been one to express emotions, but this cat just gets him to his core. They share the same wavelength and he appreciates that. The cat is the only one he trusts to open up to, so sometimes you might catch him ranting to the poor thing who just stares back with big wide eyes and occasional meows. Yup, totally gets him.
I see him with a super chill cat, like maybe a Ragdoll or a Russian Blue. Something that tolerates his constant screaming and explosions.
This guy is just as bad at names. It'll definitely be something long and dramatic like Lord Cat Explosion Demon God of Furballs. Yep. He doesn't take criticism so most people call him Lord Furballs, much to his disdain.
Katsuki won't ask for attention from the cat, but the little furry feline is a total cuddler and will often find itself curled up in his lap or even on his neck if Katsuki's sitting on the couch. You better believe this guy won't be moving until that cat decides it's time to move. He's been late to meetings with friends because of this cuddly cat.
He's a hero so this cat is definitely being treated right. Katuski is no slacker when it comes to caring for his lil buddy. The vet is on speed dial should anything ever happen.
Did someone say a custom-made collar that matches his hero costume to a tee?
He's never loved anything more.
...
"Uh, hey Bakubro, why is your cat glaring at me?" Ejiro asked, staring down at the feline.
"What?" Katsuki didn't even bother to look up from his laptop.
"Your cat. It's giving me the evil eye. I thought it was supposed to be friendly." The red-haired hero frowned, not able to break eye contact with the cat. "I don’t think it likes me."
The small furry creature had lazily curled up in the sunspot next to Katsuki's feet, purring away without a care in the world. It seemed harmless enough, except for the heavy glare it was shooting Ejiro's way.
"Heh," Katsuki finally glanced down and crossed his arms. "He's not glaring. That's just his face."
"Ah," Ejiro nodded, "like father like son."
"What the hell's that supposed to mean!?"
Taglist: @thecindy @peachsenpie @awilddreamerwrites @miriobaby @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567 @justscar @kenmaskitten10 @freckledoriya
#izuku midoriya#katsuki bakugou#bnha headcanons#mha headcanons#izuku midoriya headcanons#katsuki bakugou headcanons#my pets#cute dogs#cats#yes i did name his dog Mighty#come at me#I got really inspired so i wrote lil stories to go with these headcannons#i laughed when I wrote Katsuki's#of course that cat would pick up on his mannerisms while being a precious sweetheart#and that dog is literally just Izuku in dog form so#this turned out so goofy#lol#request
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Title: Crown For Two {4}
Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU
Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, Slow Burn, Dialogue Heavy, PLENTY OF WORDS
Words: 6.6k
Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.
Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”
Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.
This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.
As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.
Note: All right, all right people, the ride continues. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a reminder, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.
As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.
If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️
***Loosely Edited/Proofread***
***Interactive***
***Picture Heavy***
Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} |
-Five Days Later-
-Henry-
“Before we get to cut this ribbon, I want to say something. My father—your king.”
He paused, swallowed, and bowed his head slightly, trying to gather his thoughts and reign in his emotions. This was one of the first times he’d spoken about his father since his death, especially in front of the entire country. This unveiling was televised all around Brexendor and probably in neighboring sister countries, which meant he was probably speaking in front of over four million people. Clearing his throat, he tried to continue.
“Eh-em, my father, and your king loved this project. He spent so many nights coming through every detail of it. He particularly wanted to be hands-on with this because he felt this endeavor would bring many people together.”
He looked from face to face in the crowd, making eye contact and giving reassuring smiles—a tactic he’d learned long ago that made speeches more effective.
“He believed though we are individual countries filled with many different races, ethnicities, beliefs, and cultures, he believed we are all one people. He believed that one of the most universal things was connection.”
The crowd murmured their agreement as several heads nodded. He felt the hand of his mother on his shoulder, gently reassuring him and giving him some of her strength.
“As humans, we all crave connection. We all want to make connections in our lives that are worthwhile. That is what this endeavor is, a bridge for our connection across the world beginning with our finances, and he would be so incredibly proud to see it today.”
The crowd before him erupted with applause, giving him a reprieve to bring himself back to his stoic image. He waited for them to quiet down before he continued.
“Without further ado.”
He walked over to the shimmering blue ribbon that was aesthetically tied in front of the bank's doors. Once before them, one of the men handed him giant scissors, and he got into place. The crowd counted down from three. Each second that passed, he could sense the excitement increasing. Once “one” was yelled, he cut the ribbon signaling the crowd to explode with applause and cheers. The camera snapped pictures of him from every angle as he shook hands, waved, and posed with everyone on the bank’s council and the finance commission’s office.
The next hour was spent walking through the location, explaining all the details that his father had put so much time, thought, and energy into. As he pointed things out, he remembered the various conversations they had together about the items and specifications. This was a project just as close to his heart as it was to his father’s. from the corner of his eye, he saw his mother standing in front of the giant grandfather style clock that his father had chosen special. He loved clocks and had collected quite a few in his years. She placed her hand on it, then dipped her head down. He knew her pain.
The following few hours passed with him answering questions and doing his duties as head of the country, never breaking away from the status quo. He could do this in his sleep. That was how well trained he was for this. In a matter of weeks, his duties would be tripled or even quadrupled when he went through his coronation. At that time, he’d really put all that grooming to use. It was an event he’d imagined differently his whole life. For one, he’d always expected to look out to his mother and father’s faces as they’d passed the duties on to him. This future was one he was not prepared for.
“Mother.”
She hummed and spun her head to him with a solemn smile on her lips.
“Are you well?”
She smiled brightly, and any evidence of her previous sadness was only visible in her pale blue eyes, but just a smidge.
“Of course, I am. What about you, my darling boy?”
He smiled. She’d been calling him that since he was, in fact, just a boy.
“Glad to have gotten through that.”
His mother nodded before she looped her arm through his.
“You did beautifully. Your father would be incredibly proud of you, Henry, so incredibly proud.”
The tears welled in her eyes before she kissed his cheekbone.
“I have only ever wanted to make him proud,” he admitted.
“He has been proud of you every single day since you were born. Every day.”
She turned her face away, and he knew it was to hide the tears that had rolled down her cheek. He pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her, allowing her to dab at her eyes. Several moments passed in silence as he looked out the window at the passing snow-covered hills. After a minute or two, his mother cleared her throat.
“So, what is this I hear of a house guest?”
He smiled to himself, thinking of you, your smile, your tenaciousness, and stubbornness. Since his mother had been away in Sandvell on Queen duties, she’d been absent for the excitement from the last near two weeks. He explained it to her in the vaguest of terms and finished stating you would be remaining at the palace most likely for the duration of the month. He spoke it so flippantly that he hoped it sounded to her ears that it was not a big deal.
“Mm-hm. Well, I am pleased you are showing your charming side rather than your scrooge one.”
He gasped, then snapped his head to her to see her amused eyes dancing with laughter.
“I do not think it is right for a mother to call her son a scrooge.”
She did not look as if she regretted it at all. “It is right for a mother to let her son know how he is perceived or has been for the last seven months.”
“Mother, I do not mean to—I have tried--,” he sighed. “It has only been seven months since--.”
“I know darling, believe me, I know. One of the tragedies of our roles, we are expected to carry on as if we are not human. We are seen as figurines, and we must ever be pristine. The human emotion of grief cannot hold us bad. Oh, how I wish it were different.”
They sat quietly again for a few turns on the drive back to the palace.
“I assume you have taken the necessary precautions with our house guest?”
“Yes.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“I have.”
“Was it my son the scrooge or my charming son who did the talking?”
He scoffed, then shook his head. “I am always charming.”
His mother giggled before she rested her head on his shoulder.
Once they reached the palace and walked inside, the staff swarmed his mother, giving her details for the preparations for the opening ball that was taking place within the coming days for the beginning of the festive month. It was the tradition for a ball to be thrown the first weekend of the month to usher in the month-long festivities. That also meant that many would come to the palace to stay and join in on the jam-packed month of celebration.
“Yes, Carolina, I know we have much to plan in a short amount of time.”
Carolina, his mother’s personal royal assistant, nodded her strawberry blonde head as she gripped the stack of papers and folders in her arms tighter.
“Welcome home, your majesty,” she began. “Shall we begin right away?”
His mother, now free of her coat and outside garments, shook her head. “No. Prepare the necessary details, and we will meet in the pink tea room in thirty minutes.”
“As you wish, your majesty,” Carolina replied with a head bow and curtsy.
“Oh, Carolina, for tonight’s supper, please tell the kitchen I am feeling quite festive and maybe a roast. I hear we have a house guest, and I would like to welcome her properly.”
“Mother, do you really think that I have been anything but absolutely hospitable?”
She smiled and looped her arm through his again as they began ascending the stairs.
“Of course, I am sure you instructed the staff to be hospitable and tend to her needs,” she clarified.
She knew him too well. If only she knew that he himself had been the most hospitable of all, he thought to himself. He reminisced on the last few days. He hadn’t been able to have dinner with you for the last five days because the closer the event got, the more work he had to do. You’d exchanged emails about his speech with you leaving notes on what he’d prepared or even giving him suggestions on where to carry other thoughts he’d begun. He liked all your additions and suggestions. It was your suggestion to bring up something personal about his father, especially since it was his passion project. He’d had every intention to disregard it, but in the end, he’d listened to you, and he still hadn’t regretted it.
Though you were maybe a six-minute distance from his own bedroom and under the same roof, he hadn’t physically seen you in those five days. He did get information from Dr. Alphonsi and even details from McArthur about how you looked, who had been to see you to extend his apologies for getting you into this predicament. McArthur was now your greatest fan. You hadn’t chastised him or belittled him for hitting you with the car. You said it wasn’t his fault, accepted his apology, and even thanked him because you would have probably had a health crisis sooner rather than later with your other ailments.
Everyone in the palace seemed to have grown to like you. When he saw Jemma, his sister, she often sang your praises and chattered on about something you or your sister had told her. It was easy to see that even she’d been captivated by you, just as he had.
“Were you listening to me?”
Shaking his head, he glanced at his mother with a raised brow. “I am sorry, mother. What were you saying?”
“What has got your head so far away? work?”
He sighed, shrugged, and looked forward, realizing they were in the hall leading to your bedroom.
“Where are you leading me, mother?”
“It is you who is leading me, son.”
He scoffed. Even his feet seemed to want to go to you. he made a swift left turn away from your hall.
“Mother, I have some work to attend to before supper tonight.”
“All right, do not work too hard. Supper is at seven…promptly, Henry.”
He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Promptly,” he repeated before continuing on his way.
~~~~~~~~~~
-Y/N-
“I am quite happy with your improvement, Xari.”
You smiled.
“I do feel a lot better today than I have in weeks.”
Dr. Alphonsi smiled and began closing his doctor bag.
“That is wonderful news. The direct infusion through IV usually does work better than capsules or any other treatments. You have been a sample patient. If only my other patients would give me this little trouble.”
You snorted, then shrugged. “What can I say? I’ve always been a teacher’s pet.”
Dr. Alphonsi smiled again before he walked around to the IV rod to disconnect you. You watched as he slowly removed the needle from your forearm, only flinching slightly. He pressed down on the puncture hole for a few moments then plastered a band-aid across your arm.
“There. So as our plan goes. A week IV, a week injections, then repeat,” Dr. Alphonsi reiterated.
“Sounds good.”
Dr. Alphonsi walked over to the stainless steel trey resting on the side table and placed the needle on it, then began taking the emptied IV bag off the pole. Once the items were arranged on the trey, he walked back over to his doctor’s bag.
“Any questions for me?”
You thought for a moment, then began. “Not really since I already know you’re going to say no traveling.”
“You are not a prisoner here, Xari. If you are feeling strong enough, you can go anywhere you choose. The palace has plenty of rooms that would interest you. When it comes to venturing outdoors, I would say be careful, pace yourself, and do not overexert. There have been many who thought they could walk a block only to find they could not make it more than fifteen meters.”
You nodded again.
“Would you like me to speak to the prince about assigning you a lady’s maid?”
“Oh my goodness, no. that is not at all necessary.”
“All right. Well, you have my telephone number if you need me, as does the staff. I have instructed someone to inform you every time you are to take an injection. I have a trained professional here at the palace who can administer it if you are not confident enough to do it yourself. If you feel confident, remember every six hours one vial. I’ve combined them to decrease the number of needle pricks.”
“Thank you very much, Dr. Alphonsi.”
He nodded, then prepared himself to leave. As he walked to the door, it opened, and in came Anika.
“Does she have a clean bill of health?”
“Cleaner, but we still have quite a way to go. Slow and steady, says the tortoise to the hare,” Dr. Alphonsi said before walking out of your room.
“Oooh, look who doesn’t have a pole attached to them anymore. How do you feel?”
You took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment, then smiled. “A lot better than a did.”
Anika smiled with you, then dropped on the bed beside you. “Does that mean you can finally leave this room and go exploring with me?”
“Nika.”
“Don’t Nika mean, you know you’re curious and want to look behind every door of this place.”
She had a point. You were curious. You’d been in a few palaces from around the world before, but you’d never been in a palace as a guest. At the thought of “guest,” you began to wonder if that was what you were. Patient yes, unexpected and unwanted temporary responsibility, maybe. The look Anika was giving you said she was impatiently waiting for a response.
“Ugggh, fine. Yes, let’s get our Dora on,” you said, slowly getting out of the bed.
A shower took you longer than usual, mostly in part because you couldn't help but marvel at your surroundings. There was marble and porcelain everywhere. The amount of luxury that surrounded you made your jaw dropped. You sampled everything, beginning with the twelve jets in the shower to the heated bidet. The shower even had a switch that you could change the water from fresh to sea saltwater. That part tripped you up because you didn’t know why anyone would want that. Even the sink had buttons you could use to change the water pressure.
By the time you’d showered and changed, an hour had passed.
“What’d you think of the sea salt option in the shower?”
You snorted, then busted out laughing. “Oh my god, I almost lost my shit. Did you try it?”
“You know I did. Then I immediately regretted it when I forgot and began really getting into crevices to wash and rinse. Ouch.”
That only made you laugh harder. The whole time Anika protested and pouted. When you stepped out of the room into the adjoining one, you felt like you saw it in a new light. The first or even second time you’d been in it, nothing registered. Now, you could appreciate the art on the wall, the décor, and color choices. It screamed elegance but also comfort.
“I asked around, and this particular room is called a sitting room. All of the bedrooms have one,” Anika informed.
“Yeah. When I went and toured Versailles, the sitting room was where visitors were entertained. Marie Antoinette loved to also have tea and cake there before turning in for bed,” you added as you walked around, touching different materials and snapping pictures from a few different angles. It was all super high class. You didn’t expect anything less.
You and Anika stepped into the hall, and your jaw dropped.
“Holy Shit!”
The people in the hall stopped what they were doing and looked back at you while Anika tried to stifle her laugh.
“Sorry, sorry. Please carry on.”
They slowly continued what they were doing while you and Anika made your getaway. The halls were gorgeous. The white and gold complemented each other so well you just knew that this was just the beginning. Then when you looked up to the ceiling at the Sistine Chapel worthy mural, you could hear a heavenly hymn in your ears.
“The Sistine Chapel could never,” you muttered while walking and snapping pictures.
It was so beautiful you almost didn’t want to move. Anika’s arm looped through yours was the directing force. She pulled you down the stairs that were on the same level of grandeur as the Russian opera house’s. The carpet that lined them was blue instead of the red that bathed other royal abodes. It even looked like it was silk. When the two of you finally descended the stairs to the main floor, you went down one of the halls on the right.
The first door you both walked into, Anika whistled loudly. “Well, fuck!”
It was the largest dining room you’d been inside in a long while. The table looked like it could seat at least seventy. As you walked around the room, you took pictures from different angles until you got to the window, then you gaped at what you saw.
“Wow.”
“Like a winter wonderland, right.”
“Have you gone out?”
“Heck no. You know me and winter don’t agree. There is a reason I live in Georgia.”
You shook your head and snapped two pictures before you walked off in search of more. Once you and Anika finished looking around the dining room, you walked into a large parlor with several places to sit. You wondered what the room was used for. Your imagination said it could have been where smoking parties happened, or maybe a lounge area before dinners. It honestly could be used to anything.
A library followed that you knew you could get lost in for days and days and lost you got. You touched titles you were familiar with and others you’d never heard of before, making a mental note to come back and have a closer look. The ones you couldn’t pass up, you took from the shelves and took with you. You didn’t know how long you spent in the library. It was hard to tell because you hadn't looked through the whole thing even with all the time you spent there.
Somehow, you found yourself pushing open intricate golden doors and walking into an ornate room filled with gold, marble, and that same blue carpet lining. From the ceilings hung low hanging crystal chandeliers and an even more awe-inspiring mural. At the end of the carpet, you saw a pair of thrones. Immediately you knew you’d happened upon the throne room. You walked the length of it, taking a picture every few steps. When you reached them, you stopped in front and stared.
You could imagine him sitting in the one on the right. You imagined him with perfect posture, a stern face, and tightly clenched jaws with the most regal of crowns. You wondered if this monarchy was as ostentatious as others. Maybe he usually held a scepter and golden orb while being draped with royal furs. At that thought, you imagined him sitting on that throne completely naked with nothing but the royal furs draped over his shoulders. It was a damn inviting vision, one you wouldn’t mind seeing.
A loud sound behind you made you spin around to find a cleaning crew. Quickly you walked back down the carpet and out the room apologizing for intruding. Once back in the hall, you spun around, unsure when you’d lost Anika. You called her name a few times, but there was no answer. It was then you regretted not bringing your cellphone. You walked a little further down the hall then made a left as the scent of flowers captured your attention.
When you stepped through glass French doors, you felt as if you’d walked into some country garden. The room was bathed in soft amber and purples, no doubt from the sunset. Thanks to the glass room, you were able to see peeks of its glory through the fluffy looking white snow resting on it. The more you walked around, the more the exterior contradicted the interior. You knew it being the dead of winter made it impossible for the sight before you. There were flowers of all different kinds. It was a sea of blues, reds, yellows, pinks, and even purples.
“Holy Shit!”
“I will take that as a compliment.”
You spun around, looking for the owner of the voice, but there was no one there.
“Uh--.”
You walked around cautiously.
“A few more steps.”
After three steps, you found a woman sitting at a table decked out with every piece of a tea set you could imagine, along with a few pastries.
“Found me.”
She looked up at you, then looked back down to your feet until she met your eyes again.
“Uh—hi,” said.
“Hello.”
The smile on her face was pleasant, and it matched the kindness in her blue eyes. They were eyes you felt like you’d seen before, only on someone else. Slowly it hit you who she could be.
“Oh my god, your majesty.”
You dropped down to your best curtesy, hoping it would distract her from your potty mouth. She softly chuckled.
“You are quite all right, dear. Stand up, please.”
You stood and tried not to give away that you were slightly unnerved.
“I’m sorry about the cursing. It’s a horrible habit and probably not—dignified,” you expressed.
She laughed again, then took a sip from her golden rose printed porcelain cup. It looked fancy and antique. “No need to apologize. Believe me; cursing is not the worst thing in the world. I have said quite a few in my day.”
You smiled, even though you found it hard to believe, especially with how prime and proper she looked sitting there.
“I have to know, though. How did you know who I was?”
“Um—your eyes.”
She looked even more curious. “My eyes?”
You swallowed and avoided her gaze. “They’re—they’re the same as Henry’s—eh-em, I mean his highness.”
The way she looked at you made you slightly uncomfortable. She looked like she was assessing you. Before she could speak, another woman walked into the room, one with strawberry blonde hair.
“Your majesty,” she began stopping instantly when she saw you.
You cleared your throat and turned to walk away. “I’m sorry to intrude.”
“No intrusion. Carolina, I think that will be all for today. I would like to finish my tea and possibly get to know our new houseguest.”
“As you wish, your majesty.” She curtsied then walked back out of the room, leaving you alone once again.
“Please, have a seat,” the queen said.
Before you sat, you actually thought to dart out of the room but quickly changed your mind. When you sat down across from her, you took note of the open binders and folders sprawled out on the table. Out of nowhere, someone walked into the solarium, took up the matching teapot, and poured it into a new teacup to your right.
“Will there be anything else, your majesty?”
“Thank you, Edie.”
The woman walked back out of the room, and it got silent for a few moments.
“Please, have some. It is a Darjeeling blend that is grown right here in Brexendor. I drink at least a cup a day. I promise you it is delicious.”
She took another sip, but she didn’t look at all worried that you wouldn’t sample it. You placed the books on top of the table and took up the teacup instead, and sipped. Lavender, mint, honey, and rose filled your mouth. A moan escaped you.
“Good, right.”
Nodding, you took another mouthful.
“How are you?”
After swallowing, you placed the cup down. “I am feeling a lot better, your majesty.”
“Please, every time I am called that, it makes it impossible to forget. Call me, Cecelia, please.”
You didn’t know what to say to that, and it must have shown because she smiled then giggled.
“O—kay.”
“I promise. I am not trying to trick you in any way. I just want you to be comfortable. I can imagine what it feels like to come here and be surrounded by all of this. It is—overwhelming…intimidating even. I just want to make your time here peaceful and enjoyable.”
She didn’t look like she was lying or trying to cover something. She came off as genuinely kind, like she truly meant what she said.
“Thank you, your—Ce—Ms. Cecelia.”
She smiled, then nodded. “Alright. I understand.”
“I’m Xari.”
“A beautiful name. It is wonderful to meet you, dear. I do hope your stay has been a good one so far.”
“Yes, yes, everyone has been nothing but kind and hospitable. I appreciate your kindness,” you expressed.
Cecelia nodded and took another sip from her cup. Her eyes landed on something on the table.
“Of Vice and Virtue and Clandestine. Two wonderful selections.”
“I hope it’s alright. I took them. I promise I will put them back,” you began.
Cecelia reached her hand out and placed it on top of yours. “Xari, I could not care less if you kept them. You are free to anything in the palace.”
You slowly nodded and took another sip of tea. As you did, the photos on the table caught your eye. They were of a decorated room. It looked like a mock-up of a ballroom of some sort. The colors of the flowers were orange, and they didn’t look like they belonged with the pastel green that surrounded them.
“This color scheme is all wrong. You shouldn’t pair orange and green. You have to pick one or the other. I’d recommend the green; it’s very pretty.”
She looked curious, most likely wondering who the hell you were to say half of what you did.
“Are you a decorator?”
“Not officially. I took some classes, got some certificates in event planning and interior design,” you admitted.
“Oh, so you design for a living.”
“No, no. It—I am a travel photographer and blogger. It’s not what I planned, but I fell into it. Event planning and design are more of hobbies.”
“Well, this might just be serendipitous. I am in the middle of planning the ball for the opening of the festivities,” Cecelia began adjusting herself in her seat. “I just got back in Brexendor, and the trip was longer than I anticipated. That means I have two days to put together our annual ball that is supposed to open Brexenavid. That is our month-long celebration of what every Brexdorian prides themselves on—our holiday time.”
“What exactly is Brexenavid?”
“It is our month-long holiday celebration that we go all out for. There are tens of events, sometimes games, balls, dinners, and dignitaries within Brexendor and our neighboring countries who will begin arriving to stay with us here,” Cecelia explained.
You were impressed. It all sounded like a lot of work.
“And you’re the one to plan all of it?”
“Yes. That is my role as the matriarchal head of the royal family. It is one of my many roles.”
You released a breath, then finished your cup of tea. Before you spoke, you poured another.
“So tell me, if you were planning this, how would it look?”
You took a few moments to sip your tea and think about how you would do it. Closing your eyes, you tried to visualize the space, but you’d seen so many spaces that you couldn’t really picture it.
“Where will it be? What room? Can you describe it to me?”
Cecelia smiled, then stood. “I can do better. Let me show you.”
Cecelia walked out of the room, leaving you to hurry behind her. she led you through the hall you’d just walked down until you went down another hall you hadn’t before. About a minute later, you followed her into a large ballroom that looked like it belonged in Versailles. The walls dripped gold, and the ceiling housed so many chandeliers you didn’t bother to count past five.
“Wow. What a room.”
“One of my favorites. It is the usual one I use. What do you think?”
“Nice room. I would say with the amount of light that comes in and the views; I’d play that up. since it is December and I’ve seen several of your streets, Christmas is huge here.”
“If you only knew,” Cecelia confirmed.
“Then play it up. Christmas trees, poinsettias, tree lights, tinsel, everything that everyone loves about Christmas. Give your guests what they really love about this country, the beauty, the splendor,” you suggested.
She looked around the room as if she were trying to picture it. “I like it.”
Her smile was bright. “I more than like it. I love it. Carolina thought floral.”
“Floral isn’t a bad idea. You can add some in. Roses are subtle, lilies, even Dahlias, and Tulips.”
Cecelia approached you and took your hand. “I love your ideas, Xari. I have one of my own. How would you feel about taking point on this? I know you are still recovering, but you would have every staff member at your disposal. You would not be doing too much. You give the design orders, and everyone else will execute it.”
You were speechless and couldn’t believe the queen had just asked you to deck out her palace for a ball. “Obviously, you do not have to if you do not want to.”
“Do what?”
Henry’s voice brought your attention to him. he wore a simple white button-down shirt and grey dress pants. While it wasn’t as formal, he still looked put together.
“I have just asked Xari if she would put together the ball.”
“Mother. She is supposed to be resting and recuperating. Dr. Alphonsi has left very strict orders, and work was on the list of prohibited actions.”
His mother looped her arm with his with a smile. “Oh, darling, I am not talking about manual labor. She has quite an eye for design and event planning. I thought it would be fun.”
“Mother--,” Henry began again.
“Plus, what are you doing here?”
“You said supper was promptly at seven.”
“Heavens, is it seven already? All right, Xari, you do not have to answer right away. You can take the night to think about it. we should all go to supper.”
“Uh—I’ll go back to my room,” you began.
“Nonsense, looking at you, you are well enough to dine with the rest of us. Come,” Cecelia pressed as she released Henry to loop her other arm with yours and led you closer to her son.
Henry smirked, and when he realized he was in the middle, he softly scoffed and held out his arm for you. Your eyes locked for a few seconds, and you picked up a hint of amusement behind his blue orbs. You slowly looped your arm through his, allowing him to led the two of you out of the ballroom and down the long hall.
As you walked, his mother chattered on about something that you paid no mind to. All you could focus on was the smell of Henry’s cologne and his towering presence beside you. Your hand rested on his forearm, and the heat radiating off of him tempted you to flex your fingers against him. The minute your fingers moved, you felt his bicep tense. It was an action that brought your eyes to him. You lost your breath when you found his were already on you. Goodness, you thought to yourself, slowly trailing your eyes over the details of his face until they landed on his lips.
“Eh-em.”
Snapping your head forward, you saw that you’d arrived in the dining room. You pulled your arm free and walked away from Henry flashing them out, trying to cool them from his heat and gain some control over your wayward thoughts. This dining room was a different one from before. It looked more intimate.
“This is the dining room we prefer to eat in as a family,” Cecelia explained the closer you got to the table.
Taking your place beside Anika, Henry took his at the head of the table while his mother across from you beside a beaming Jemma. Once everyone was seated, the staff walked in carrying trays of food toward you. Once yours was put down, the silver cover was taken off to reveal a pot roast of some kind.
“I hope you are not a vegetarian,” Cecelia began.
“Oh no, my sister and I love all kinds of meat, Anika blurted out, making you give her a harsh eye.
“Wonderful. Please, dig in.”
Dinner went on uneventfully. Jemma talked about her plans to include a local orphanage in the planned festivities for the month. Everyone seemed to think it was an excellent idea. Then the conversation turned to Anika as the Queen tried to get to know her better. The only ones who remained relatively quiet were you and Henry. Every so often, your eyes met and lingered. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words never manifested. That was when your eyes drifted to some part of him, either it was his lips, or his hands, or even those sprigs of black hair that teased the bounty that laid under his shirt just waiting to be played with.
By the time dinner was finished, and after dinner, coffee and tea were served, things had moved to one of the sitting rooms you’d walked through earlier in the day. After your first cup of chamomile and lavender tea, the queen said her goodnights and left you, Anika, and Jemma to your own devices. It allowed you to crack open one of the books you’d picked earlier. By the time you finished your second cup of tea, exhaustion had caught up with you. When you looked up, it was just you and Henry sitting there. Once again, Anika had disappeared, this time taking Jemma with her.
His nose was buried in a book. Before you could admire the view of him sitting there with one leg crossed over the other, his eyes drifted to you; then he lowered his book to reveal a soft smile. Neither of you spoke. It was a comfortable silence that didn’t need to be filled with words. A yawn sprang from you, making him snort.
“This can’t be regular chamomile or lavender.”
“You are probably right. I do know it is farmed straight from the field and brought here,” he answered.
“Wow, so literally from the earth to your stomach.”
Henry smiled again.
“I um—I think I should probably turn in,” you said.
Henry placed his book aside, then stood. “Allow me to walk you back to your room.”
“Thank you, your highness.”
He smiled, came closer, and held his arm out to you.
“Are you always such a gentleman?”
“I try to be. It is what I was raised to be,” he replied.
“So—always. There isn’t a time of day where you say fuck it and let it all fall away?”
He smiled and stepped a little closer. It was as close as he was the first night in the bar before you parted ways. His eyes bore into you from his towering height, and you decided you wanted to see what he would do.
“There is about an hour in the morning when I first wake. No one has come in to give me news or updates. It is quiet, and my mind is clear. Then there are those few minutes at night before I fall asleep where I can let everything fall off me. In those two moments—I—I feel like myself.”
There was a pained look in his eyes that you wanted to know more about.
“And what does it feel like to be yourself?”
Henry gave you a melancholy smile. “Lonely.”
A full minute passed then Henry held out his arm again. “Shall we?”
You looped your arm and let him lead the way out of the sitting room, down the long corridor, and up the grand steps. The walk was quiet, but you didn’t feel weird being close to him like this. It felt normal. Halfway to your room, Henry spoke.
“My father told me before he died, the more people that want a piece of you, the less you have for yourself and the lonelier it is at the top.”
“Sounds like the words of a wise man.”
“He was very wise.”
Silence. You’d heard the sadness in his voice the first time he mentioned his father.
“Do you miss him?”
“Every single second of every single day,” Henry answered.
As you turned down the hall that would lead to your room, the silence returned.
“Your speech was amazing.”
“You’re saying that because you helped write it.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “It doesn’t matter who helped write it. Words are nothing without the conviction to back them up. You made the speech.”
You could feel his eyes on you, so you met them right before you stopped in front of your door.
“Thank you,” he whispered. He then took a step to you, closing the wide gap between you.
“Do you usually have to approve the plans for big events?”
His crinkled brow said he was confused. “I guess it depends. Why?”
“Well, since you are so busy being his highness and all, the only way we’d ever see each other the next few days would be for me to accept your mother’s offer and plan this ball seeing how his highness would get the final say-so on all plans. Right?”
Henry slowly began smiling then he licked his lips. “That sounds about right, but that would mean one thing and one thing only.”
You leaned against your door and smiled innocently. “And what’s that?”
“That you want to see me almost as much as I want to see you.”
Your heart pounded faster and faster. “Almost as much?”
Henry rested his arm on the door jamb, sort of boxing you in. “You have to know, Xari.”
“Know what, your highness?”
“Henry,” he whispered quite breathlessly as he stared into your eyes.
The tension between you was palpable. It felt like any second one or both of you were going to do something that neither of you could take back. The loud crack of thunder boomed outside, bringing you both to realize your surroundings. Henry cleared his throat and took two steps back.
“Good night, Xari. I look forward to seeing those plans at every decision,” he said with a stern face and plenty of humor in his eyes.
“Your highness.”
He sighed, then walked back down the hall, leaving you to admire the sway of his hips and the plump but firm state of his ass. God help you, you thought to yourself before you stepped back into your room. You’d never been good at fighting off temptation. You liked to put up a fight but eventually, you always gave in.
You knew that it was only a matter of time before you did just that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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#crown for two fic#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill x you#henry cavill x black reader#henry cavill x black ofc#black fanfiction#slow burn fanfic#cheesy christmas fic#henry cavill au#royalty au
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Road Trip to Nowhere
Chapter One: Midnight Music
Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader
Word Count: 1,104
Warnings: None!
Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell
To celebrate Santiago finally returning home from the states, you decide to do something a bit unorthodox. Pack all the necessities into one minivan and road trip across the United States with no plan and no destination. Will you find something cool? Who will commit a murder first? (Probably Will) Will you all even survive? Let’s find out, shall we?
You sighed, resting your dominant hand on the steering wheel. You and the rest of the boys were on a road trip without a real destination. Santiago was finally back in the country and you were celebrating by packing everything you needed into your minivan and driving all over the United States with no plan. You’d just left the Miller’s house in Indiana in the morning, and it was now nearing midnight. The open road was before you, but you hadn’t passed another car in a while.
Frankie heard you sigh and looked over, smiling. “Sleepy?”
“You wish Morales,” you whispered back, grinning. “Check on Reyna and Santi for me?”
Frankie twisted, looking back to see his best friend and his baby both dead asleep in the middle row of the van. “Sleeping like, well, babies.”
“So sweet,” you cooed softly. “And the Millers?”
“I assume doing the same, considering we can’t hear either of them,” Frankie said. “They took the morning and afternoon driving shifts, and they’re exhausted.”
You nodded. “Yeah, they did. How’re you holding up, speaking of shifts? Do you want to sleep before you take over from me in an hour?”
Frankie reached across the center console and took your right hand off the wheel, lacing his fingers with yours. “I’m used to be a military pilot,” he said, kissing your knuckles. “I can drive on two days of sleep deprivation.”
“He’s done it before too,” Benny piped up sleepily from the back. “Damn fool.”
“Go back to sleep Benny,” you said softly, switching the radio station. “We’ll wake you for breakfast. You have the afternoon shift tomorrow, so you can nap all morning if you really want.”
Benny nodded, falling back against Will’s shoulder and immediately falling asleep again.
Frankie stifled a yawn, smiling slowly as you hummed to the radio. “This song is cute.”
“I’ve heard it a few times,” you said, blinking away the blur of headlights from another car. “Reminds me of you.”
“Really?” Frankie asked.
You hummed, nodding. “Yep.”
Silence lapsed over you two, and the gentle music was the only sound beside the rumble of the car and Santiago’s slight snoring. It was incredibly peaceful, especially on the straight roads where you could really see the stars illuminating the Indiana night sky. The occasional far-off howl of a coyote would remind you that you were still in the middle of nowhere, USA, just how the boys liked it.
When midnight passed on the clock, you began to look for a gas station. “Frankie?”
“Wassup?”
“Should we stop to sleep for the night?”
Frankie shrugged. “Up to you,” he said. “But if you wake Will, he isn’t going to go back to sleep.”
You grimaced, pulling into a gas station and parking. “Damn. I guess it’s just us and the road until tomorrow night. Want me to run in and grab you some coffee?”
“Just us and the road,” Frankie agreed, getting out so he could switch with you. “Yes please.”
“Alright,” you said, getting out of the car. “It’s a 7-11, so don’t go expecting gourmet coffee.”
Frankie laughed, grabbing the gas pump and beckoning you closer. You stepped towards him, smiling as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “You know me,” he murmured against your skin. “If it’s got caffeine and tastes even remotely like coffee, I’ll drink it.” You felt him slide the money for the coffee into your back pocket, and you stood on your toes to get a better angle in kissing him quickly.
“Be right back,” you promised, walking away to get the coffee.
It wasn’t hard. At nearly 1 AM, you were the only person besides the underpaid teenager working the register in the store. You filled the biggest to-go cup they had with something you knew Frankie would like and headed to the counter to pay. The teenager didn’t even say much as you handed him the money and thanked him with a smile. Sliding the change into a tips jar, you left the 7-11 to find Frankie already settled in the driver's seat.
You handed Frankie his coffee through his window and opened one of the back doors, nudging Santiago, who was still sleeping.
“Up and at ‘em,” you said, gesturing to the passenger seat. “Your turn. I got Fish some coffee. If you beg hard enough, he might share.”
Santiago grumbled something in Spanish and changed to the front of the car. You heard him and Frankie exchange a few words, still in Spanish, and Santiago took one sip of Frankie’s coffee before leaning back, almost immediately falling asleep once he had put his seatbelt on. You sat in his seat in the middle row, Reyna’s car seat across the small aisle to your left.
During the exchange, Reyna woke. You hadn’t known her mother, so you had no idea what she’d inherited from her, but to you, Reyna looked like a spitting image of the baby pictures of her father. You lifted her out of her car seat and put her in your lap while you got situated in your seat. She gurgled and started to cry, but when she realized she was in your lap, she calmed, cooing and laying her head over your heart.
You smiled, holding her close and humming to the radio. Reyna gurgled softly, falling asleep against your chest. “Aw, Frankie, your daughter has trapped me.”
Frankie glanced back before pulling out and laughed. “She loves you more than she loves me, I swear.”
“She’s a daddy’s girl,” you said, patting Reyna’s back and feeling your own eyes droop. “Reyna, baby, you’re putting me to sleep here.”
“Just accept it,” Frankie said, eyes on the road. “I swear she’s magic like that.”
You smiled, kissing Reyna’s soft brown curls. “I used to hear a simple song,” you sang softly along with the radio. “That was until you came along. You took my broken melody, and now I hear a symphony.”
Unbeknownst to you, in the front seat, Frankie was smiling, glancing back at you and Reyna, watching your eyes close as you succumbed to sleep, not even managing to finish the song before you succeeding in not only keeping Reyna asleep but putting yourself to sleep as well. He knew it wasn’t safe for Reyna to sleep in your lap in the car, and he knew that in a few minutes, he’d have to stop to take her from your arms, but for now, he left her to sleep where she wanted, finishing the song softly when he realized you could not.
“And now I hear, a symphony.”
A/N: Hey guys, Dewey here. This series is going to be different from my other ones because I will eventually run out of locations for these dorks. So, if you have any locations you really want the gang to visit, like small attractions, big attractions, weird small town stuff, of just something you think would make a good road trip stop, comment it! I would love to send these guys on the wildest trip I can, so help me out and send them somewhere super awesome.
#Triple Frontier#francisco 'catfish' morales#frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#Pedro Pascal#My writing
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"Sorry, were you sleeping ?" with Chenford ?
Love your writing
Thank you for the prompt anon, I hope you enjoy! :)
Tim Bradford’s Thursday shift had been one of the longest he had experienced in a while. Not that it was a hectic night, especially for a Thursday but it all started after he had dismissed his officers on the nightshift to hit the streets.
“Hey Sarge, got a second?” Officer Amelia Hatch asked as she walked to the front of the room, the room clearing out as everyone went their own way. “That kid from that domestic the other night, can I contact the school, see if she will talk to me or maybe the guidance counselor?”
Tim sighed, “It wouldn’t be a bad idea, the kid doesn’t need to be bottling that shit up.”
“I think she would have talked to me the other night, but the mother pulled her away before I could ask any questions.”
Tim took a second to think before giving her advice, his lips forming a thin line, “Swing by the elementary school near their address tomorrow after shift, see if that’s where she attends and go from there. But Hatch, don’t blame yourself if she has no intentions of talking now.”
“Understood Sir.” The officer told him before walking away.
Tim had a pile of paperwork in the metal basket on his corner of his desk that grows by the minute that he knew he needed to get a start on, but being a man of few habits, he had gotten in the habit of visiting booking just after the start of the shift.
“Evening Luke, any regulars in yet?” He asked the intake officer who was typing away at the computer behind the counter.
“Not yet Bradford. But there is a full moon and a bad batch of drugs going around.” The officer spoke, never looking up.
Being the nightshift Sergeant of the Mid-Wilshire prescient of the LAPD, Tim had gotten to know his fair share of regulars, the junkies, druggies, and the few prostitutes that frequented one of the three holding cells.
“Great.” He mumbled under his breath. When you work in law enforcement, you always keep track of the moon cycle, the brighter and full phased the moon was, the crazier everyone got. Though it is not a proven fact, it is just a well-known fact that you learn comes with the job. “Let’s get those in, processed out soon, the quicker the better.”
“Wreck on I-10, van’s stuck in traffic. According to radio traffic they should be here within the next thirty or so minutes.”
Tim was about to thank the officer for keeping him updated when a loud disturbance stopped him, the door of the garage flying open.
“I didn’t do shit, you motherfucker!” yelled the man that was being escorted through the door.
The Sergeant moved closer to assist, the man fighting the two officers every step of the way.
“Harper, you good?” Tim asked, grabbing onto the other man’s upper arm.
“Fine. Found this one defacing the side of the church on Harrison Avenue, drunker than a skunk.” She told him as she secured him to the bench.
“You bitch, I told you I had to piss! You can’t prove nothin’.”
Nyla rolled her eyes. “There’s footage on the camera in the alley and on my vest.”
“You fuckin’ lyin bitch.”
“Enough.” Tim glared. “Get him booked, then throw him in the drunk tank to sober up.”
Nyla nodded as Tim walked away, heading back to his office.
He sat down behind his desk, keeping an ear open on the scanner that sat in the corner of the bookshelf in his office. He picked up the reports, reading them one by one as he began sorting through the pile in the basket, checking, filling, and signing the reports filled out by his officers. The report in his hand was particularly captivating when the shaky voice of Officer Hunt came over the radio.
‘7-Adam-22. Shots fired at my location. Suspect gave chase but is now in custody. Roll back-up and EMS.’
Tim stood, grabbing the keys for his shop out of the top drawer of his desk. The rest of the evening was spent documenting the crime scene and making reports before he headed to the hospital, checking on the suspect and now patient, the man getting stitched after cutting his leg while hopping over a fence. Tim made it back to the station thirty minutes after his shift was intended to end, preforming the daily maintenance on the shop before he made his way inside, heading for the office of the day shift’s Sergeant, Wade Grey. He brought the other man up to speed, filling him in on what occurred overnight, by the time he was done updating his fellow superior it was well past eight in the morning and Tim was dead on his feet.
Tim hastily went to the locker room, changing out of his uniform and back into his normal clothes before heading out of the department. He was lucky that he only lived twenty-three minutes away (on a good day) from the department and for a Friday morning, his commute was harmless besides the lingering effects of the morning rush hour traffic.
He pulled the vehicle in, parking his truck in the drive, reaching over for his duffle bag from the passenger seat before he exited the extended cab. He pulled the ring of keys from his front right pocket, unlocking the wooden door as he made his way inside, disabling the alarm system before reengaging the security system as he kicked off his shoes. The silence of the house had always been strangely comforting, the quietness enveloping him as his sock clad feet padded through the dark bedroom, heading for the bathroom. He tiredly stripped of the clothes, throwing them into the hamper before he walked back out into the bedroom, blindly grabbing a pair of black boxer briefs from the top drawer of the dresser, sliding them on before he pulled the covers back and falling into bed.
He stretched out, laying on his stomach, an arm under the pillow and one over his head, sleep claiming him within minutes of his head hitting the pillow, the comfort of the memory foam mattress with the coolness of the multitude of pillows creating the perfect combination.
The dream he was having was one he wanted to stay in forever, the scene his dreaming brain had concocted was perfect, the sunset hitting the woman in front of him, casting her in the hues it was projecting.
“Lucy, I-“
Lucy smiled as she stepped forward, moving towards him. “It’s perfect.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She grinned, staring at him the sounds of the ocean before them began fading into the background as she leaned in, the buzzing in his ears growing louder.
“What the hell?” he mumbled in his dream as the image began to dissipate.
The buzzing of his phone bringing his sleep addled brain back to reality. There were only four people that could get past his do not disturb settings, and out of the four of them he could immediately eliminate two.
“Hello.” He grumbled into the phone, sitting up as he let out a yawn.
“Tim! You are not going to believe this. Wait- shit.“ she said as the sound of shuffling came through the receiver. “Sorry, were you sleeping?”
“No I wasn- actually yeah, I was.”
He could picture Lucy grimacing on the other end. “Shit. I’m so sorry, I forgot that you worked last night, and that tonight is your night off. I got my days mixed up. I’m just- I’ll just hang up now.”
“Lucy.” He sighed, laying back onto his pillows. “What did you need?”
“It’s not important, I can just tell you tonight wh-“
“Luce, I’m awake now, might as well tell me.”
“Are you sure?” she hesitated as he grunted on the other end. “Ok, so remember me telling you about that high-speed chase we had the other day on I-10? The whole thing is about to get weirder…”
Tim grunted, listening as she continued in her story, her voice becoming softer and softer the longer she spoke and before he knew it, he had fallen back asleep, lulled by the sound of her voice.
“Tim? Babe?” she asked, smiling when she heard the even breaths and soft snore coming from the other end. She ended the call, placing her phone back into her pocket as she made a mental note to make it up to him when she seen him after shift tonight.
Working on two separate shifts and trying to maintain a relationship was difficult, sometimes they would call the other, forgetting that they were likely asleep. Other times, one of them would stay awake for the other, long after their shift had ended, just to catch up. Tim and Lucy have always been a different couple but when all the pieces fall into place, it makes the perfect puzzle.
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Winter Storm:Part 2
Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor
WARNINGS:
‼️contains spoilers from chp. 16‼️
[[angst, cursing, anxiety, fear/terror, depression, near death experiences, hypothermia, dehydration, fainting, severe pain, cliffhangers, unhealthy coping mechanisms, suggestive themes, if I missed any - please let me know!!]]
Author’s Note:
As you already know, I will forever apologize for my sluggishness but I hope that when I do get to posting, it is worth the wait 😣 I’m particularly proud of these pieces, especially Beel’s and Belphegor’s... the angst was fun to write and helped me let off some steam! Forgive me, but Asmo is kind of hard to write for as we’re practically polar opposites 😭 OH!! Since this is the final piece to my “Winter Storm” puzzle, I’ll be needing more requests so if you’ve got something on your mind that you wish to bring to life, send ‘em my way and I’ll do my best to help make it come true!! I’d love to hear what you lovely individuals have rattling around in your brains✨. As always, thank you kindly for your patience, your generosity and support, and thank you very much for hyping me up to write and continue writing. You’ve helped me in more ways than I can count. Stay ruling them all, MCs ❤️
- DevildomDoofus
Prologue/Part 1:
Asmodeus:
It was difficult letting you go on an adventure without him, especially since you were taking the camera with you and he was all dolled up to the nines, looking way too good to not be in the pictures you were going to take... but then you offered him a reward he simply couldn’t refuse, IF he were to be patient. You took him by the hand, gazed into his beautiful eyes, and whispered low enough that he had to lean in close to hear your proposition. “Wait for me here and when I get back, we can dip into the hot tub and sip our favorite drinks until we’re pruny.” He practically kicked you out of the door so that you could hurry back and fulfill your promise.
In the time that you were gone, he busied himself with intricately arranging yours and his belongings until he felt you’d be proud with his eye for organization. By then, you hadn’t returned in the time he felt you‘d said you’d be back but... if he went out looking for you now, he might not get to be warm and bubbly with you later on and damn it, he was going to get that time with you. Once again, he tried to find something to keep his mind off of saying ‘the devildom with it!’ and going after you anyway. He flipped through magazines, scrolled on his D.D.D., sang and danced to his favorite human songs on the radio, but eventually, all he could think about was you. Wondering if you were ok, if you were having fun without him, what kind of pictures you might be taking to show him later... “Ok, that’s it. MC, sweetie, you’ll just have to forgive me.” He donned his comfiest and cutest winter trend setter, lathered the remaining exposed skin in protective lotions and creams because he simply CANNOT have his skin cracking or breaking, and stepped out the door to come find you- “Unholy shit...” The sky had darkened and the wind had picked up immensely. This is not good. For him, his skin, and much less you. He had to find you and fast. He spotted markings on the trees and the piles of stones nearby and he tilted his head. He knelt down to pick up a stone and eyed it a moment before he brought it to his nose for a quick sniff. It smelled of the lotion he had given you on one of your birthdays and for a brief moment, his heart flutters. You wore it constantly because it reminded you of Asmo and whenever you were feeling down, you’d take a whiff of yourself to feel closer to him and whatever was bothering you would instantly vanish. You told him this and he never forgot it nor did he ever let you hear the end of how happy it made him. Emotional in nature, Asmodeus started to tear up a bit as his fear of losing you increased. If he couldn’t find you soon, you’d surely be in danger if you weren’t already. He continued after you like a bloodhound, following you primarily by scent as his vision was becoming obscured by the blinding snow and ice. In addition, he would call out your name, hoping that by some unholy miracle, you’d hear his voice and come trudging through the snow into his arms. Today, he wasn’t so lucky.
Before long, your trail of markings and scent waned into nothingness and he came to a halt. “No, no, no, noooo!!” He turned in circles, sniffing until it hurt to do so, desperately trying to pick up your scent again but it never came. “Damn it!!” he cried as he dropped to his knees, a bit exhausted and heavily defeated. He couldn’t catch the tears before they trickled from his eyes so instead, he held his face in his hands and let them go. How could he have let this happen? The only one he could love more than he loved himself was probably stuck out here alone, terrified, and most likely hanging on for dear life but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it because he couldn’t find you. He was so overcome by his feelings of weakness and hopelessness that he almost missed the echo of your voice crying out through the storm. Almost.
He perked up in an instant, stumbling back to his feet before chasing the sound and calling after you. “MC?! Where are you, love?!” Although there was no reply, he continued in the same direction with your scent having picked up, until he came across the makeshift shelter you held up in. As he crawled in and got closer to you, he came to a complete stop before his jaw dropped to the floor and heart concaved within his chest. You were lying there like-... like you had been lying once before like a broken porcelain doll, abandoned and forgotten by it’s owner. He covers his mouth with his hand and began to cry once more, only this time in much more pain. Crawling over to you, he takes one of your hands in his and brings it to his quivering lips, gingerly kissing your hand before taking the rest of you into his embrace. “Oh MC... My sweet, sweet MC,” he whispers through his tears, “I’m so sorry.” The lump in his throat strangles the words that try to come out. “So very sorry.” He clutches you tighter, leaning his head against yours and rocking you in his embrace, telling himself this is a horrible dream. He never imagined days would come when someone else’s wellbeing came before his and yet the moment you had made a pact with him, he was immediately catching himself thinking of you before he ever came close to thinking of himself. It was incredibly bizarre... and he only wanted more. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that if fewer thoughts of himself meant more thoughts of you, he’d gladly take himself off the pedestal and place you on top instead. Unfortunately, this newfound wondrous feeling wouldn’t last long as the possibility of losing his source of selflessness and humility was rapidly increasing.
“As..moo...” His crying stops and he jerks up, looking down at you. For a brief second, he thought he heard you speak but seeing as you looked the exact same, he assumed he was starting to hear things. Until you said it again. “A..sm..oooo.” Any human would have thought that their ‘cheese had slid off the cracker’ because now, they’re hearing voices from beyond the grave, but Asmodeus knew better. He saw the curving of the delicate lips that your frozen face had allowed and he gasped. “MC!!” He tugs you ever so closer and snug to him that your spine could’ve snapped if he hadn’t of pulled away seconds later to litter your profile with swift and gentle kisses. When he’s done showering you in his smooches of relief, he stands up with you cradled to his chest and flies to back to the cabin to try and bring you back to the MC who once inspired him to be more by thinking of himself less. Besides, you owed him a dip in the hot tub and he wasn’t about to let some horrible blizzard take that away.
Beelzebub:
When you told this man that you wanted to go on a little scavenger hunt to check out the area, he thought you meant you were going to go see what kind of food joints were nearby and he was a little heartbroken at first, thinking you were doing such a thing alone. Without him. The avatar of Gluttony. But you assured him that you two would go together to do that later, and then buy as many groceries, snacks, and take-outs as he pleases as soon as you got back from a quick sight seeing. You also mentioned that you might find some berry bushes on your outing and you would bring some of those berries back for him to try. His cheeks dimpled and he gave you that smile that made your heart do cartwheels in your chest. For his cooperation, you gave him the location of the secret but not so secret because he could smell them anyway stash of your packs of fruit snacks. Ever since the pact, he has never been offended that you had ‘secret’ stashes because he understood all too well why you had to hide them away. His brothers did the same. But even still, you would always, and I mean always, share parts of your food with him so all he really had to do was wait for you to get hungry and surprisingly enough, it was almost as often as he would. You two were a match made in the celestial realm that could eat take the world by storm and he could never really put into words how much that connection that the of you two shared meant to him other than sharing HIS food with YOU.
Thinking of all of this food inevitably made him hungry so he went to your luggage, fumbled around a bit until he found them, and then gobbled down the full packs of fruit snacks, one by one, to hold him over until you came back. He then shuffled over to the couch to plop himself down and wait for your return. Before long, he was shifting and fidgeting in his seat as the cabin started to creak in the uncomfortable silence. He tried watching tv, doing little exercises, and eating more snacks but nothing was helping ease the uneasy feelings he was having.
There were many times in his life where the world around him seemed uncomfortably quiet. Yes, he was technically used to bouts of quietness with Belphegor, the Avatar of Sloth himself, being his twin brother and roomie. But typically, Belphegor was at least in the vicinity; either quietly snoring across the room, resting himself against Beel in one way or another, or could be called on and they could reach each other in a matter of seconds. They were never too far apart nor were any of his other brothers for that matter, if Beel needed a distraction. But as life can be a bit unforgiving, Beel was left alone, on occasions, for long periods of time with nothing but his increasingly loud thoughts to keep him company. And mind numbingly loud they were. It would range between his memories from The Great War of battling angels he once called friends, his overwhelming guilt of not being able to save Lilith, a bit of leftover anger with Lucifer for locking his brother away and then lying to him about it, guilty anger over Belphegor’s attempt to kill you, but most of all... he’s bent to the point of breaking over the fact that he knows he has a problem with his sin, more so than his brothers, and yet celestial realm knows there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it and that is what hurts most of all. And when thoughts like these come knocking at- no- BEATING DOWN his door, he either works his body until he crashes from fatigue, goes on binges for months to drown them out, bottles it all up until it terrorizes him in his dreams, or all of the above. That is, until you came along. Whenever you’re around, his mind, body, and soul seem at peace, and no more does he feel that he is starving, or broken and in need of fixing, or so far beyond forgiveness for what he’s done and who he has become that no one should ever be around him again for he’d only hurt them in the end, unable to stop himself. With you around, the quiet nor his own mind are his enemies but rather, potential friends. Indeed, he still has his moments where the ‘darker’ silence still pays him visits but they have become fewer and farther in between. And it’s all because of you.
That being said, this is one of those ‘darker’ silence visits and before it can get any sort of footing in his mind, he shoots up from the couch and heads out of the door to come looking for you.
He noticed little digits in the trees and piles of stones lining up with a trail going in a particular direction. If he remembers correctly, Satan had once mentioned that humans used these types of techniques as a survival tool in order to find their way back or leave a trail to be found if need be. Wow, his human is a smart cookie- “Damn it.” Shouldn’t have thought that. His stomach growled as if it was summoned and he pats his belly in an effort to console it. “I know, I know. I’m sorry buddy. We’ll find MC soon and then we can go eat with them.” It practically purred in response.
Minutes passed of following your trail and the sky began to darken with the wind picking up, followed by the walls of snow and ice. This was unsettling as he knew that humans couldn’t really survive out in weather like this for long, no matter how smart or capable they were. It was even more unsettling that your markings had disappeared and you were nowhere in sight.
“MC!!” he calls after you but you don’t respond. He continues, over and over, calling after you yet only the wind calls back. There was only one solution left and it was one he didn’t particularly like. He could use his ability as the Avatar of Gluttony to enhance his senses and sniff you out but... the problem was in the fact that he only ever used it when he was particularly starving, so inherently, whenever he zeroed in on something, he was going to eat it when he found it. This didn’t bode well for you considering you, in particular, had an exceptionally appetizing scent and it was extremely difficult to ignore, even with a full belly on the rare occasions that it is and out of his demon form. But because he was out of options and time was running out on the possibility of finding you alive, he had no other choice than to shift into his demon form and zero in on your scent. By Lord Diavolo, it was immaculate. The oh so sweet aroma was speaking sweet nothings to his stomach and the growl it emitted could shake the earth, if not hidden away under flesh and bone. He could make out a ghostly outline of your old footprints, beneath layers of snow, leading in one particular direction. He followed blindly, his hunger now at the wheel and in full on stalking mode as an apex predator on the prowl. It lead him in a few circles before ending up at the miniature shelter and by now, your scent was overwhelmingly delectable to his senses. He ducked low and could make out your silhouette in the darkness. Inching towards you, his nails turned to darkened claws and his teeth bared themselves with an impending goal to devour you whole until there was no trace of you but the outline of the snow of where you once laid- “NO!!”
Beelzebub stripped his sin from the reigns of his mind and he dropped to his knees beside you before it could begin it’s feast. He shook his head, trying to completely erase the thoughts of consuming your body and the immensely alluring smell that lead him to you in the first place. He then looked back to you and your drooping, solidified form and couldn’t hold back the tears that started to trickle down his face. “M-MC...?” Your heart would’ve shattered, just as his did in that moment, upon hearing the pain in his voice. “MC, no... please don’t do this.” He takes your head in his hands and turns your vacant, expressionless face towards him to try and get you to wake up. His thumbs trace circles over your cheeks and he’s calling your name but with no reply. The hands that are usually ever so steady and gentle with you, the hands that you’ve come to love with your whole heart, now shake in bits of agony as he pleads with his entire existence for you to wake up and come back to him. You continue to lay there, upon the cold, hard stone with your empty eyes looking right through Beelz’s and he can’t take it anymore. He lifts you into his arms and races back to the cabin with your limbs dangling towards the snow. Once there, he gingerly places you on the couch and flies around the cabin, grabbing the things he needs to get you warm and bring you back to him. He strips you of your wet clothes and dresses you anew in dry pairs. He throws a plethora of blankets over your body, covers your hands with fuzzy mittens and your feet in multiple pairs of fuzzy socks, then wraps a scarf around your neck and adjusts it so that it comes up to just beneath the opening of your nose. Lastly, he tosses firewood into the fireplace and sets them ablaze before settling onto the couch, placing you between his legs and wrapping his large arms around your frame, snuggling his face into the crook of the scarf around your neck. He inhales deeply, taking the sweet scent of you into his lungs before exhaling and letting his tears fall again. His grip on you tightens as he’s torturing himself for allowing this to happen to you a second time, the one and only person who could ever really take all of the darkness in his life into the palm of their hands and toss it to the four corners of the earth like it never existed. Like it never even knew his name in the first place. Now it was his turn to take away your pain, your darkness, your mistakes and it terrified him because as much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t feel as if he could, no matter how strong he was or tried to be. The only thing he was certain of was that he had try his damndest to bring you back but then wait for fate to decide the rest.
Belphegor:
To be honest, Belphegor didn’t exactly want to come up to the human world in the first place, for a couple of reasons.
(1): He still has a teeny tiny ginormous grudge against humans, even if he knows Lilith became one and you were one as well. That didn’t mean that the rest of them were not still thorns in his side and most likely will remain so until the end of time. Especially Solomon. I mean really, what is that sorcerer up to half of the time?
(2): There isn’t much he prefers to be doing more so other than sleeping. He’s the Avatar of Sloth, Mr. Sandman himself. It came with the ‘job description.’ So he would just be going from sleeping down in the devildom, his palace of comfort, to sleeping up in that Father awful human world, the bane of his existence. “What a joy that would be,” he thought to himself while rolling his eyes as you were in the midst of going over all of the reasons he should come with you on this trip.
And finally (3): As much as he refuses to admit it, deep down in his heart of hearts, he often times feels guilty for being so low energy while you attempt to do things with him and share your life with him. He’s angry with himself for not being able to do much about it given that it is his sin, other than try his best to spend as much of his waking hours with you as he can for as long as you live, rather than sleeping both of them away. Which is why he inevitably caved and agreed to come with you on the trip. Besides, maybe the human world isn’t so bad when he’s with his favorite one? And maybe the chill from the snowy mountains could be his obvious excuse for snuggling ever so close to you under the piles of blankets and pillows. A smug little smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth while he imagines it, eyeing your frame slowly, up and down, before nodding at whatever you had just said... sorry, MC. He wasn’t really listening at the time.
That is how the two of you ended up waving goodbye as you stepped out of the cabin to go sight seeing for a bit and he stayed behind, assuring you he would try his best to stay awake and unpack. We both know how that went
He awoke to the sound of an alarm you had secretly set on his D.D.D. knowing all too well that his promise was empty and growled at the ringing in his ear, nevermind that it was as soft as a loving mother’s lullaby. He jerks up, fumbles his hands in and around the mountain of blankets in search of his device, until he feels the vibrations of it and snatches it from its snug hiding place between his rump and the cushions. The light from it was blinding, having him squint into a frown as he swipes away the alarm. He grumbles, scratching his head through the tuffs of chaos before lifting his intertwined fingers towards the ceiling and letting out a groan, stretching his limbs. “MC?” he calls with his eyes still closed in a grumpy squint. Assuming you simply didn’t hear him, he calls for you again, a little louder, and with no reply for the second time, his eyes finally open and he looks around the empty cabin. He wiggles out of the blankets and walks around, giving the entire cabin a quick once-over, looking for his little, seemingly hard-of-hearing human. That’s odd. You weren’t home and it was-...? He checks his D.D.D. It was about the time you said you would be back. He glances out of a nearby window and frowns. It was swiftly darkening outside and not because of the sun laying down to rest, but due to a vicious storm beginning it’s onslaught. It ticked him off that you hadn’t returned since he felt that you knew better than to leave him waiting for you and it ticked him off a little bit more that now, there was a storm brewing and he had to go out in the cold to drag you back himself before you got yourself killed. Being here was pointless without you and staying awake was quite difficult; Therefore, if you weren’t going to be there with him when he happened to be ‘with the land of the living,’ he would simply go back to sleep... angrily for that matter considering he put time and effort into staying awake for you. He never did that for anyone, not even Beel. So you had better have a good reason for still being out in the cold, soon to be cold storm, or there was going to be devildom to pay. But instead of laying back down to return to his rudely interrupted slumber, as much as he wanted to do so out of spite, he grabbed a coat that was thicker than the one he typically wore and stepped out to come looking for you and then eventually punish you for your transgressions. He sighed as he pulled the hood over his head in an effort to reduce the blasts of ice filled wind and shambled through the rising snow, looking high and low for any traces of you. That’s when he noticed the carvings in the trees and stone piles shaped in an odd fashion. “Ah... not so naive after all,” he mutters to himself and another one of his signature smirks makes its way to his face, but that soon fades as the wind picks up and his line of sight shrinks further and further. This storm was becoming a bit too strong, even in the eyes of a demon such as himself, and that thought alone gave him chills that no blizzard could muster for he knew that this kind of storm was not something humans typically survive in, especially alone. “MC, I swear on Diavolo’s very demon soul that if you’re out here goofing off, you’ll regret the day you came back from my attempt to kill you.” The threat was empty and uttered without any true intention of being carried out. He was simply masking his fear with anger because he felt that his fear would weaken him and you didn’t need someone who was weak, you needed a strong and capable Belphegor to find you and bring you back home, safe and sound... being that you’re still alive.
He followed your trail until it came to a complete stop and with you nowhere in sight, he leaned against a nearby tree, one of the last ones you had marked, and traced his finger along the outline of the markings in the bark. “MC!!” He shouts for you but you don’t respond. He shouts your name over and over but the wind simply swallows them whole. Those fingers he once had on the bark, curled and tightened into a fist and he inhaled deeply just as he was rearing back before delivering an earth shaking blow to the center of the tree, leaving a gaping hole in its wake before the giant finally slunk to one side, toppled to the ground, and sent clumps of snow up in the air. His body shook no longer from the cold, but from the fear and the rage and the guilt overtaking him. He was terrified that he was losing you. Angry over the fact that no matter how hard he was trying, he couldn’t find you, much less save you. And celestial realm only knows how immensely guilty he felt for being the cause of your possible death, both in the past and now. He was shifting in and out of his demon form, his mind and sin arguing over who gets to take the reigns. Regrettably, his sin won without too much of a struggle and he bursts into his demon form onto his hands and knees, and began to scream, balling his eyes right out of his skull. “Please, MC!! For fuck’s sake, I can’t do this alone!! I need you, damn it!! I need you so fucking much!!” The world itself seemed to darken even further as Belphegor poured his breaking heart right out of the newly vacant pit in his chest. Nothing in all of the three realms could pull him from his decent into madness...
...until the sound of your voice makes it way to his ears, past the baying wind and cries of agony. Time itself seemed to stand still and the world around him grew deathly silent as he listened for your voice. He hears it echo from not too far off from where he kneeled. In the time it takes lightning to reach the earth, he has wiped his tears clean off and is now on his feet and bolting in the direction of your voice. That oh so delightful sound of your voice.
He reaches the knockoff shelter that you hid away in and hunches down, making his way to you. As soon as he reaches you, he slows to a stop and places his trembling fingers against your neck, testing for a pulse. It’s dangerously low but his heart lightly flutters because now he knows there’s a chance that you could make it out alive... if he hurries. Refusing to give up, he takes you in his arms and bolts back to the cabin to try and warm you up. If he can save you, he will make the celestial realm seem pale in comparison to the world he will provide for you. If not... Father have mercy on them all.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#otome#mine#my posts#devildomdoofus#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me mc#asmodeus#beelzebub#belphegor#mc
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Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter VI
The next morning, (Y/n) wandered into the convenience store. She offered to do some shopping for the boys and stock up on supplies for their dangerous trip ahead. She looked around at the items on display, wondering what all she should buy with the gil Ignis gave her. While staring at a few potions on the shelves, memories from the past filled her mind. She remembered the time when they were only 12 and Prompto was living with his adoptive parents. They didn't know about her due to the blonde keeping her hidden in the gemstone whenever they were around.
When his parents went to work one day, they left a sick Prompto behind. She took it upon herself to take care of him while they were gone. She was forced to head to a nearby store for some medicine and was gone for almost an hour due to not being familiar with human remedies. By the time she got back, he was crying. Tears were streaming down his face as he wailed at the top of his lungs. A sniffle came from him every now and then. She learned he was crying because he couldn't find her and thought she'd left him for good. The spirit reassured him before showing him what she bought at the store to help with his cold.
Suddenly, (Y/n) was torn from her thoughts when Ardyn strolled over. She tried to ignore him, but it was futile when he blocked her from grabbing some potions. She kept calm and did her best to be nice. "May I squeeze by and get some potions?"
"Why, of course." He stepped aside. "My apologies, (Y/n)."
She grabbed a few potions and elixirs, ignoring the man when she noticed he was staring at her. She headed to the counter and paid for the items, but she was once again stopped by Ardyn when he blocked the entrance of the store. She looked up at his face, seeing his somewhat unsettling smile. "What?"
"I must say, young Prompto truly is fortunate to have you by his side," he said.
Her eyes narrowed. She wasn't sure what made him say such a thing. "And what brought this up?"
"A mere observation on my part, is all." He sighed dramatically. "Oh, if only Callyx was as dedicated."
"Maybe it's not him, but you. Now if you'll excuse me..." She pushes past him to exit the convenience store and returns to the caravan. She handed the curatives to Ignis, who thanked her.
Once they were all ready to ship out, they left the caravan. Noctis begrudgingly spoke with Ardyn inside the store to tell the man they were ready to leave. Callyx told (Y/n) she no longer had to ride with them before entering the red car alongside his auburn-haired man. The girl didn't complain and sat in between Gladio and Ignis in the backseat of the Regalia. Noctis started the engine once everyone was inside the car.
Like the day before, Noctis followed a safe distance behind Ardyn's car. After leaving Cauthess Coernix Station, Gladio glanced at their destination that loomed in the distance. "Whoever thought of tapping into the Meteor's power was a genius."
Prompto glanced at the Disc. "Can you even go near that thing?"
"They harvest fragments found nearby-pieces that broke off when the Meteor fell. Almost fell, I should say, for the Archaean caught it," Ignis explained.
"And he's still there, holding the thing up," Gladio added.
"Guess he never misses leg day," Noctis commented.
"Or any day for that matter," Prompto said.
"His unceasing toil and the Meteor's might form the tenets of worship for the locals of Duscae," the advisor stated.
"Makes you wonder what it's like down there at his feet," the shield voiced his thoughts out loud.
"Speaking of gods, that Callyx guy seems to know a lot about an Astral that's supposedly forgotten," Noctis said.
"It's possible Callyx has access to ancient texts that mention Brahma. He did tell me a little more about the seventh Astral," (Y/n) chimed in. "The creator god's consciousness resides within the Celestial Crescent."
"You mean that cluster of stars you told me about?" Prompto asked.
She nodded. "Yeah. Callyx even asked me if I was hearing voices coming from it."
"Are you?" Gladio inquired.
"Well..." She clasped her hands together in her lap. "I'm...not sure. I think I hear a voice, but I can't say for certain."
"Eh, don't worry about it, (Y/n)," Prompto said. "Let's tackle one all-mighty being before worrying about another."
"Couldn't agree more," Noctis stated.
Ignis, after a couple minutes of silence, spoke up and discussed another topic. "So you know, it's hot where we're going. Will the camera fare all right?"
Prompto lifted up his camera, examining the device. "As long as I avoid open flames, it should be okay. I think."
"We don't have a spare if it breaks," Gladio said.
"Leave it in the car?" Noctis suggested.
"Oh no, I'm taking it. Not every day you get up close and personal with the Archaean. I'd kick myself if I missed the photo op," Prompto replied.
"Spoken like a true photographer," the brute remarked.
"As they say, "Better to try and fail than never to try at all"."
Noctis grinned. "Look at you."
"Well, they say that, not me," the blonde said.
"Well, you just do what you gotta."
"But in all seriousness, try not to break it. It was expensive," (Y/n) chimed in.
"I'd never break it! It's very precious to me, especially since you're the one who bought it for me," Prompto stated.
"You bought it? With what money?" Gladio questioned, glancing at the girl sitting beside him.
"I used to work in a small boutique in Insomnia. It was run by a spirit like myself. I worked hard for every yen I spent on that camera." The guardian leaned back in her seat. "She was the first spirit I met. Callyx is the second."
"Wow. Are spirits really that rare?" Noctis asked.
"Yeah. It'll take some serious dedication on the empire's part if they want to wipe out all the spirits on Eos."
The group, once again, fell silent. Noctis kept his attention on road to ensure he wasn't too far or too close to Ardyn's car. Prompto glanced into the backseat at (Y/n) before looking towards Ignis. "Hey, Iggy. Can your glasses take the heat?"
At the mention of his glasses, the strategist adjusted them. "Well, I don't see why they shouldn't."
"Even if they couldn't, he'd still be all right," Noctis commented.
Gladio nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Iggy's eyes ain't that bad."
Prompto was flabbergasted at the news. "Oh, really?"
"My vision is passable without corrective lenses," Ignis explained.
"Then why not take 'em off sometimes?"
"Well..."
Noctis snorted with laughter. "You don't get it, huh?"
"Ignis likes his world to be crystal clear," the shield said.
"Indeed. I've never been one for ambiguity," the advisor claimed.
"Ah. I think I'm getting the picture now." Prompto sat back down, turning to face the front.
"What if they were to break? Do you have a spare pair?" (Y/n) questioned out of curiosity.
"I'm afraid not," the bespectacled man answered.
Drawing closer to the Disc of Cauthess, Prompto has one more question to ask the strategist. "Hey Ignis, how's it feel being away from the wheel?"
"Positively frightening," Ignis responded honestly.
Noctis glanced at him in the rear view mirror, eyes narrowed. "What're you sayin'?"
"That I'm no stranger to His Highness' driving habits."
"'Preciate the confidence."
"Wait," (Y/n) sat up slightly. "Is he really that bad of a driver?"
"Morosely, yes," Ignis replied.
"I mean, he can't be that bad...can he?"
"Trust us, short stuff, he's the worst driver you could ever meet," Gladio said.
"I'm not that bad!" Noctis shouted.
"But you admit you're bad," Prompto cackled.
The prince rolled his eyes. "Ugh..."
After another minute or two, they arrived at the Cauthess barricade. It was sealed tight with imperial troopers watching the perimeter. What shocked the group the most was the lack of hostility from the enemy soldiers.
"We're here," Ardyn chirped.
"Better not be a setup," Noctis commented.
The auburn-haired man glanced over at him. "Have I given you reason to doubt me?"
"You don't exactly inspire confidence," Prompto answered.
Gladio was in agreement with the blonde. "Yeah, not very straightforward."
"Neither of you are," (Y/n) mumbled, eyeing both men in the car beside the Regalia.
Ardyn looked away from the group and shouts over the wall. "Hello! It's me! Be so kind as to open up!"
At his lighthearted command, the gates open. Prompto gasped in shock at how easy it was for the man to gain access to the Disc. "Wow, that worked?"
"I may not look like much, but I do have some influence. Aren't you glad we came together? Your audience with divinity lies ahead."
"You're leaving?"
"I drop you at the Archaean's open door, and with that, bid you farewell."
As Noctis drives the Regalia through the open gates, (Y/n) spared one last glance toward the red car. Her golden eyes locked with Callyx's emerald ones for a split second before they were too far apart to see each other. Even with his stoic expression, she could sense something much more sinister under the surface.
"I've met some weirdos..." Gladio mumbled.
"I hope we never meet those two again," Ignis remarked.
"Whoa! Little harsh there, don't you think?" Prompto asked.
"There's something off about those two..." (Y/n) muttered.
"Glad we agree," Noctis said.
The prince continued to drive the car down the dirt path until they came to what appeared to be a dead end. The five hop out of the Regalia and located a narrow pathway to the side. They follow the path and eventually stumble upon a stone sarcophagus. Prompto recognizes the design and asked, "Is that what I think it is?"
"Didn't expect to find a royal tomb here," Ignis expresses his own bewilderment.
Gladio elbowed the prince. "Would be a shame not to grab that power, eh, Highness?"
"Let's grab it and go," Noctis blandly stated.
As the raven-haired boy walks up to the sarcophagus near the ledge, (Y/n) heard a voice again from above. It was the same one she heard yesterday. Looking up at the sky, her golden-slitted eyes focused on the Celestial Crescent. She felt as if someone had put her under a trance. Unconsciously, she walked forward a few steps and came to a halt when the disembodied voice addressed her.
You...the...
"Are you...Brahma?" The girl whispered.
Vessel...mine...
(Y/n) was still in a dream-like trance when the ground begins to shake dramatically. She managed to keep her balance while all the boys weren't so lucky. Prompto and Ignis fall down while Gladio and Noct just barely manage to keep themselves upright. "Here we go again," Prompto said, bracing himself.
"This one's huge!" Gladio bellowed over the loud rumbling.
That's when Ignis notices the ground beginning to crack underneath Gladio, Noctis, and (Y/n). "Get away! Quickly!"
The spirit's gaze was still locked on the sky. She failed to notice the danger and hear the painful cries of the prince as he was overcome by another headache. She reached out a hand towards the sky just as the ground beneath her feet crumbled. She gasped when feeling a plummeting sensation in her gut, snapping out of the trance as she began to fall. The sound of Prompto shouting her name echoed in her ears.
(Y/n) feared for her life, but her fall was short-lived. A hand wrapped around her wrist and ceased her quick descent. "I've gotcha!" Her savior shouted. Looking up, she saw it was Prompto who grabbed her.
"Prompto..." The guardian whispered.
"Just hold on!" He shouted. Using his strength, he struggled slightly to pull her up. When he managed to pull her up onto solid ground, he sighed in relief. "Whew... That was close." He wiped the few sweat droplets off his forehead before gazing towards the girl. "Are you okay, (Y/n)?"
"I'm fine thanks to you," she smiled.
Just then, the Meteor begins to rise before them, revealing Titan. The Astral who has been holding the chunk of space debris on his back for many years makes his presence known. Prompto and (Y/n) stared in awe and fear at the sight of the mighty god. They both flinched when the Archaean's booming voice resounded out.
"So this is Titan..." The guardian mumbled.
Prompto, remembering Noctis and Gladio had also fell, peers over the ledge to check on them. He shouts when seeing they were both on a lower ledge. "Noct! You okay?!"
Ignis stood by the blonde and was relieved to see the prince and his shield were in one piece. "Thank heavens you're safe. Is there a way back up?"
"No, but there's a path. Gonna see where it leads," Noctis replied.
"You three try to get down," Gladio said.
The strategist nodded. "Very well. We'll look for a way. Be careful, now."
"You, too," the prince retorted.
"What? We're going where?!" Prompto shrieked.
"No time to dawdle," Ignis spoke up. "We must make haste."
(Y/n) wandered a little ways from the crumbling ledge and spotted a narrow, rocky path nearby. She noticed it went out of the way, but it was the only route leading down. "What about this path?"
"It's our only option," the advisor said.
"Then down we go!" Prompto cheered.
The trio wandered down the path, watching where they stepped. It was narrow and littered with jagged stones. Prompto slipped a few times due to being distracted by the rumbling caused by the Archaean. Luckily, (Y/n) caught him every time he stumbled. She sighed when he nervously laughed and thanked her every time.
They continued to listen to the Astral slam his mighty stone fist into the cliffside. They weren't able to see what damage the Titan was causing, but they were able to deduce who he was trying to reach-Noctis.
Ignis, Prompto, and (Y/n) soon arrived at a dead end. They looked around for another path, but they couldn't find one. When they walked over to a cliff, they saw a path below. Carefully, they slid down the small rocky slope and land on the path. As their feet landed on the ground, they spotted the Archaean's fist strike across the way. Ignis ushered them to move quickly.
All of a sudden, (Y/n) heard a faint humming. She looked around before glancing upward. Flying overhead were imperial drop ships. Seeing the empire had arrived, Ignis pulled out his phone and tried to get ahold of Noctis. When he managed to get ahold of the prince, he was relieved. "You're safe. Good. Listen, imperial troopers are near."
Morosely, that was all the advisor got to safe before the signal was lost and the call dropped. "Bloody hell," he hissed, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
Prompto was about to ask Ignis about the call, but his attention was drawn to their left when he saw movement in his peripheral vision. "(Y/n), Iggy, we've got trouble!"
The advisor and spirit looked in the direction the blonde was. Their eyes widen when seeing Titan's open-palmed hand heading straight for them. The girl was the first to react. She shoved Ignis and Prompto to the ground just as the Astral tried to grab them.
When the Archaean's hand wrapped around (Y/n), she cried out in pain at how tight the god was gripping her. She could barely breath and only managed to gasp as Titan retracted his hand.
Prompto heard her painful wail and scurried to his feet. "(Y/n), no!" He summoned his pistol and aimed, but he was afraid of hurting her if he pulled the trigger and missed. He watched helplessly as she was dragged away by the god.
The guardian squirmed in Titan's grip. She lifted her head just as she realized she was at eye level with the Astral. She winced the moment the Archaean's booming voice echoed out. She couldn't understand what he was saying and could only stare into his eyes. Feeling the god's grip lighten, she gasped when she could breathe again.
Suddenly, her attention was drawn away from Titan when she heard the voice in the sky speak to her.
Chosen...one...
My...vessel...
(Y/n) blinked in surprise. "Brahma, are you the one talking to me?"
Yes...
You...are...my vessel...
She shook her head. "Please, don't choose me. I-I wouldn't even know what to do as the conduit! There's no way I could become your vessel!"
You are...worthy...
Child...of Pneuma...
Heed...my call...and do...my bidding...
Fear not...
I...shall...guide you...
(Y/n) gasped in pain, shouting at the top of her lungs when she felt an intense heat radiate in her chest. She clawed at her chest, the gemstone on her arm pulsating with a brilliant golden light. Blood trickled from her eyes and nose. She released one final bloodcurdling scream before falling unconscious. Her body went limp in the Archaean's hand.
Before the Astral could place the girl down, Noctis appeared out of thin air. He warped and struck the god's hand, forcing him to drop the guardian. The prince caught her and grabbed his sword. He warped them down to the ground near Titan's feet where Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto were waiting.
Once landing safely with (Y/n), that's when Noctis saw her bleeding eyes and nose. Prompto rushes over while Gladio and Ignis provide protection from the Astral. The blonde carefully took the girl's body out of the prince's arms and pulled her into his. His heart was racing with worry after seeing the blood and seeing she was unconscious. He quickly picked her up and carried her away from Titan as Noctis parries the god's fist. He gently placed her down on the ground, glancing between her and the others. Seeing they needed his help, he reluctantly left her side to rejoin the fight.
As the royal retinue continued to fight against the Archaean, more imperial drop ships arrived. The group was ready to deal with the empire, but they were relieved when Titan swatted away some of the ships before they could attack. With the imperials now disposed of, they continued to deal damage to the god.
Eventually, Noctis built up enough energy to activate the armiger. He dealt blow after blow before performing a joint attack with his companions. They dealt heavy damage, causing the Astral to lose his balance and fall to a single knee. After attacking, Ignis then hurls a Blizzard spell at the god's arm. "The game's up!"
Gladio and Prompto follow the advisor's lead and hurl yet more Blizzard spells at Titan's arm. "You're out!" The blonde shouted. The Archaean's left arm freezes from the elbow down.
"It's over!" Noctis swings his sword down into the arm, shattering it all the way up to the elbow. Titan then collapses. The prince turns around to face his friends. "Hey, we all still here?"
"Yep, still here," Gladio replied.
"If a little battered," Ignis added. "How is (Y/n)?"
Prompto gasped, eyes widening as he ran over to the girl. Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis stood behind the marksman as he tended to her. He fell to his knees beside her and used a potion. He wasn't sure if it would help, but he knew it wouldn't hurt to use one. Prompto cups her cheeks in his palms and wipes the blood off of them. He stared at her with a saddened expression. "(Y/n)...?"
He received no response.
Ignis checked on her and was able to tell she was physically fine on the outside. His only concerns were her bleeding nose and eyes, which could be a result of internal injuries. He assisted Prompto by helping him put the girl on his back. When seeing she was safely onto the sharpshooter's back, he stepped away.
Just then, the tremors resume. The ground shook violently. The group's gazes fell back on to Titan. "What-what is it now?" Noctis asked.
Ignis' eyes narrowed, watching the Astral closely. "What is he doing?"
"He's winding up!" Prompto shouted. His grip on (Y/n)'s thighs tighten and he took a few steps back, readying himself to run.
"For the big one!" Gladio bellowed.
Titan roars, his booming cry echoing all around the royal retinue. Gold lights begin to emanate from his body, some of which coalesce around Noctis, showing him the god's memory of Luna standing before the god. Once Luna fades, he watched another memory of the god fighting a cosmic being. Titan, although bigger than the cosmic being, fell to his knees after being defeated.
When the god's memory fades, Noctis blinks in surprise. "That was...Luna. You spoke with her. That's why... But what was with that other memory?"
Titan and the Meteor suddenly discorporate in a powerful flash that sends all the imperial ships in the vicinity crashing to the ground. Lava spews from the earth as the Disc of Cauthess crumbles around the boys.
"Doesn't get much worse than this," Gladio commented. The four find themselves trapped.
Suddenly, an imperial drop ship descends to their location. Ignis grew tense as the airship closed in on them. "The empire! Now?"
The drop ship's door lowers, revealing Ardyn and Callyx. The auburn-haired man smiled at them. "Fancy meeting you here!"
Noctis and the others stare at the two men in stunned silence. Callyx crosses his arms with a sigh. "Maybe they didn't hear you."
Ardyn continues. "It occurs to me I never formally introduced myself. Izunia. Ardyn Izunia."
Ignis was shocked at the revelation. "Imperial Chancellor Izunia?"
"At your service. And more importantly, to your aid."
None of the boys move, instead offering only uncertain stares. Prompto glared up at the two, remembering what the empire's plans were. He couldn't believe Callyx was working for the empire knowing they were hunting down and killing spirits.
"I guarantee your safe passage. Though you're always welcome to take your chances down there," Ardyn spoke up. He glanced around at the faces of the royal retinue after receiving no response. "Buried among the rubble, is it?"
Ignis looked away from the chancellor and guardian, eyeing the prince. "Dying here is not an option. We have no choice, Noct."
Noctis met his advisor's gaze. "I know."
Reluctantly, the boys board the airship. As the hatch closes behind them, Prompto placed (Y/n) down. He then sat down and pulled her body into his arms. He rested his head on top of hers, ignoring Ardyn as he tried to speak to the others. He closed his eyes, holding her tightly against him.
It wasn't long before Prompto's eyes flew open at the sound of approaching footsteps. Looking up, he saw Callyx and glared at him. He watched the emerald-eyed guardian kneel in front of him. The moment he tried to touch (Y/n), Prompto summoned his pistol and aimed it at the man's head. "Don't touch her."
Callyx retracted his hand before raising it as a sign of peace. "I only wanted to check on her. What happened?"
Prompto lowered his pistol slightly, but kept it aimed at the spirit. "I-I don't know..." He looked down at the girl slumped against his chest. "Why're you working with the empire? Aren't you the one that said they were killing spirits?"
"I made a deal with them a short while ago. They allowed me to keep my life in exchange for loyalty. I'm using my position to warn any guardians I come across. (Y/n) is the first guardian I've met outside the empire."
"Won't they kill you once they learn you're protecting other guardians?"
"Most likely, but I'm willing to risk my life to protect my people."
Even at Callyx's declaration, Prompto didn't trust him. He dispelled his pistol and chose to remain silent. The spirit walked away after taking the hint and rejoined Ardyn and the others.
Now alone, Prompto buried his face into (Y/n)'s (h/c) hair and whispered, "Please wake up soon..."
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#ffxv#ffxv x reader#final fantasy xv#final fantasy xv x reader#prompto argentum#prompto x reader#prompto argentum x reader
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Fuckin’ Legit
Pairings: Reader x Bucky Barnes Summary: Follow up to Fuckin’ Teamwork, based off this ask. A/N: More silly shenanigans. Dumbass reader :) 2.1k words
Bag of Tricks Masterlist
Bucky watches from a distance as you hurl through the air and land right heel-first on the training dummy, knocking its head off and making it bounce off the floor with enough force to lodge itself into the ceiling. The room of SHIELD recruits clap and cheer, and when the dummy’s head flops back down you kick it like a hacky-sack at Maria Hill.
“Great demonstration,” Hill catches the head and tucks it under her arm. “Are you interested in teaching a course in hand-to-hand combat with a focus on aerial recovery? Legitimately?”
“Only if you promise not to fall in love with me.” You send a wink at her and then, as soon as you see Bucky’s bewildered face through the other side of the glass, you leap after him. He’s convinced you’re dumber than a bag of rocks, but you’re not deterred by it—especially not after Maria Hill’s validation. Puffing your chest, you skip forward, “Hey, Buck! I’m legit!”
Immediately, you trip and face plant into the nearest surface. The room collectively hisses in discomfort.
“I take that back.” Maria hurriedly ushers the recruits out before they can witness anything else.
Bucky slips through the door and roughly yanks you up by your elbow, wincing when your nose reveals a line of blood dripping into your mouth. “Legit, my ass. Come on. Stark called for us.”
-
The air in the conference room is stagnant and overwrought with a million unsaid—unscreamed—expressions. Tony pivots on his lifted heels, finger jabbing toward the big screen where a dark and grainy image is projected.
“Care to explain this? Friday pulled it from a broadcast coming from the cell.” He narrows his eyes at you as you slump down into the swivel chair until only the top of your head shows. “How about you?” Tony gestures to Bucky.
Tony has a laser pointer in his other hand, and he shines the red spotlight on the picture where Bucky’s knees are bent and planted to the ground. The dot trails over his thigh and then over the smaller frame beneath him.
You’re there, arched upward into his torso, legs hooked around his tapered waist, heels digging into his spine. Four of his thick flesh fingers are shoved inside your mouth, pulling your cheek open, and the dim light catches a sliver of your wet tongue. His other forearm is pushed onto your sternum, holding you down.
It looks bad.
It looks like Bucky is dry humping the daylights out of you in an abandoned Hydra facility.
Sam erupts into a screeching laugh when he finally pieces it together, pitching forward until he’s flattened against the wood table. “Ho-Homygod--- This is the best day of my life. Is this the cyanide incident?”
Bucky is red from head to toe.
Natasha rolls her eyes and slides away from the table. “Tony, she ate two cyanide capsules. Barnes was wrestling them out of her mouth.”
Tony stiffens for a moment as he ponders the truth behind her statement. Then, he quirks his head like an owl, flares his nostrils, and stoops beneath the table to find you resembling a boneless pile of flesh.
“Everyone is dismissed.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. “I wish I could fire you.”
A quiet whimper escapes your lips, the most pathetic noise to ever come from a human being. “But…” You whine pathetically, “I’m legit.”
-
A few nights later, you find yourself sneaking through yet another dusty old hideout. Surprise, surprise, Hydra is bad with maintenance and loves asbestos.
Steve made you an outline of all your tasks on his mission, written in all caps, folded neatly, and shoved it into your back pocket before departure. You skimmed over it on the plane before crumbling it up. The first bullet point had glared: NO CANDY.
Tightass.
You easily clear the wing and dispatch your status to Sam who is waiting patiently in the jet, fingers on the console. Bucky is patrolling the perimeter and you are taking the east side while Redwing zooms through the west.
There have been trip wires (newbie shit) and also surprisingly advanced attempts at entrapment so far (motion sensors, temperature regulated alarms). They’ve all been expertly pulled apart and rewired and you are taking a short break fucking around in the hallway, peering at dusty paintings of – some old dead bald guys. You take a picture of one and send it to Tony, labelled it’s like looking into the future.
Chortling, you continue down the corridor aimlessly until you hear a creak.
The knife in your hand is blade-first and coming down hard on the body sneaking up until— “Oh Barnes!” You cry happily, tucking it back into the strap on your wrist. “Good. You’re here! There’s only one more room—I’ve been crushing it.”
Literally two seconds after you say that, you turn the corner and run face-first into the door. Bucky pauses as if he doesn’t quite register what just happened before slowly reaching forward and gently applying pressure to the handle.
It’s written all over his face: you’re an idiot. You are seriously lacking some brain cells.
He leads the way carefully, swatting cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and taking stock of each corner, rifle pointed forward and alert. Behind him, your boots thump noisily against the floor and a chair is tipped over when your arm crashes into it.
Bucky spins on his heels and catches the chair before it can fall on top of what looks like a very obviously placed … box.
It’s a box.
A giant red box is on the floor, outlined with a square of white tape. Two abnormally unsoiled items in a room made almost entirely out of forty-year old dandruff. Your hands are already on both sides of it before Bucky can knock you out of the way.
“Don’t!” He screams because fucking anything could be under there!
A wild animal! A toxic chemical! A bomb! Snakes, for fuck’s sake! His eyes widen at the fading shadow cast on the floor as you lift the top away. Then, his heart stops beating.
It’s a slice of cake. And a cup of tea. A single slice of vanilla sheet cake neatly decorated with a blush-pink rose and two perfectly piped green leaves. The faint smell of jasmine wafts into the air.
Bucky barrels into you before you get the chance to lick your lips.
“Wilson!” He calls into the comm as you push his face away with an offended yelp, “They’re in the east side—set a trap for us! Get over here and bring your stupid bird too! I swear to God—NO! DO NOT!”
-
In the hovering Quinjet, Sam Wilson leaps to his feet and swoops out of the cabin, wings folded as he dives. “Come again?!” He taps on the comm wedged inside his left ear, “Barnes!?”
“-- fuck-- gonna—fucking--- stop BITING ME!”
A furious row of explosions blare in Sam’s ear as he banks a sharp left and lands on two feet, tearing his way inside the facility, checking on his wrist all the while. Redwing’s camera is glitching, but he can make out flashes of gunfire and what looks like at least five bodies, not including his two teammates. Bursts of white erupt on the screen and Sam’s heart picks up a tremendous pace before he kicks the door down, pistols out and aimed.
A silence smothers the room before grunting and screaming erupts again over Sam’s shout of, “What is going on in here?!”
-
“And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the exact moment I came upon my fellow Avengers,” Sam pauses, waving his hand with a bow at the image projected on the conference room screen.
Friday pulled another image from the broadcast before Sam shot out all the cameras in the facility.
It seems that the previous video of you eating cyanide had been intercepted through a bounced signal from the original recording’s output and those on the other end decided you were enough of a proper imbecile to be tricked by something as simple as a slice of cake.
They weren’t wrong.
Tony’s laser is in Sam’s hand and he points the dot in flashes five times, “Dead dudes. Check.” The dot moves on, landing on two splayed out legs before it runs up the side of Bucky’s body pressed to the concrete. “Barnes. Check.” Bucky shuts his eyes and slams his head into the table. “And… here we have this.”
Sam points to you, bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth as you lurch forward, one hand outstretched and smeared with frosting while the other holds your torso barely an inch from the ground, paying no mind to the two elbows digging into your stomach. Sam points again to where your crotch is pushed right into Bucky’s face.
“Jesus Christ.” Steve mutters, flushing red, “I wrote you directions for a reason…”
“Excuse me,” You huff, “Cake is not candy.”
“Really?!” Bucky snaps, “That’s the hill you’re going to die on!? You ran into the door! You knocked over a chair! You looked at the one thing that did not belong in the room and you picked it up even after I told you not to!”
Steve jumps back into the grilling, “And if you would have read the rest of the list—NO FOOD AT ALL was number two!”
“Oh yeah!?” You’re near hysterical now, shrieking at the top of your lungs. Stupid men ganging up on you. “What was number three? No fun!? I’m Captain America and I’m such a tightass--”
Bucky cuts you off, throwing his hands up into the air, “Number three was get the blueprints!”
“Oh.”
The room falls silent as you tuck your hand into the pocket of your pants. “Why didn’t you just say so? I nabbed ‘em as soon as I got in there. Marked off the locations of all the cameras and security alarms—not like that matters since Wilson shot them and I disarmed the rest in the east wing. Also, there were corridors and secret entryways not in the file. It’s on here now.”
Carelessly, you chuck the flash drive from your pocket at Steve and it smacks him in the chest. Sam crosses his arms and cocks his head at you, “Shit. Didn’t know you were all that.”
You frolic to the door, “See ya later!”
Three men watch on in shocked silence as you prance down the hallway, banking a sharp right towards your room. Steve stares from Sam to Bucky and then to the flash drive in his hand.
Sam clucks, “You know what… All things considered… the girl is legit.”
-
He calls your name, bangs on the door with a hard fist and when it cracks open, you peek your head out with tired eyes. “Sup, buttercup?”
“Why are you like this? The cyanide? The cake? You had the flash drive the whole time!”
You shrug off what sounds like an accusation, “I dunno. I’m good at my job.” Bucky crosses his arms. “Barnes!” You scold with a growing grin, “I’m legit! I just… you know. Why put all the pressure on myself when you’re around?”
You snort a little, scratch your tummy underneath an oversized shirt absently, and shrug your shoulders repeatedly like you’re dancing. Bucky narrows his eyes. “Are you telling me you’re an idiot because of me?”
“Yeah, Buck. I know you’ll take care of me.”
He freezes. Feels a sudden swell of heat rush from his chest to the top of his head. Bucky opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. He closes it. You give him a sleepy grin, leaning on the door and swinging it wide, faltering against the knob with a yelp.
Swiftly, and true to his character, Bucky catches you with one arm.
Hanging from his hold, body twisted around, you look up into his blue eyes. They’re strangely tender, dancing over your face with an inquisitive glimmer.
The moment shatters when Bucky’s gaze stops at your neckline. “Is that—" he frowns, “Is your shirt on backwards?”
You nod. “Uh huh. Inside out too.”
His eyes slip shut. With a sigh, he drops you flat on your back and turns around. “You’re an idiot. I hate you.”
Down the hallway as he stomps off, cursing the moment the thought you were cute or something… he hears your voice calling.
“I’m an idiot— but I’m legit, right? And I’m your idiot, right? Bucky? Bucky!”
Bucky holds back a grin. Flicks you off behind his back. Legit or not, he would never give you the satisfaction of knowing.
-
perm taglist @whothehellisbucky @serpentbaby @badassbaker @alagalaska @cake-writes @crist1216 @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @infinity-saga @jamesbarnesthighs @pinknerdpanda @xoxabs88xox @imsoft-barnes @momc95 @typicalangel @wretchedgoddess @readeity @iwannasail
#marvel#mcu#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#fanfiction#reader insert#crackfic#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#humor
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Spencer Reid x Reader- Hurt Pt 2
Spencer Reid x Reader- Hurt Pt 2
Words- 1,217
Warnings- Language
A/N- Kind of a filler chapter to create tension but I do have a plan for where I want this to go. Working on a couple of requests at the moment and I’ll get those done soon and then work on pt 3! Would you guys like there to be a tag list for all Criminal Minds related works or just this story, I will gladly add y’all to any specific taglist you want, just say what you want. As always, love you lovelies!
That night you had a nightmare, one where Noah had actually gotten to you. You couldn't bear to remember it but woke up with a start. You reached immediately for your gun that was nowhere to be found. You felt someone touch your shoulder and you yelped. "Sorry, it's just me," Reid said, you remembered the events from last night and rubbed your head. You realized you had been laying on Reid's chest asleep. "What if he has my gun, what if he's trying to find me? What if he wants to kill me?" You hadn't realized you had been talking aloud, Reid got up and held your hand, trying to keep you grounded. "Hey, it's gonna be alright, we'll find him. We can let the team know-" "No!" You said quickly, "I can't let them know," Reid furrowed his brows, "Why?" You let go of his hand and began to pace, "Because then they'll know I'm weak, I can't burden them with my problems, we have other things to do." Reid put both hands on your shoulders and made you face him. "Listen, this isn't a problem you can just fix yourself." He let go of you and looked you in the eyes, "This is a problem that needs help, and we can help you," He smiled softly and I sighed. "Can we at least go back to my house just to see if he took my gun or badge?" Reid signed and nodded. "Then we'll go to work, we can tell the team there, it won't take up too much time." Though you were reluctant to agree no argument could persuade him otherwise. You looked at the old clock on his wall and it read 5:15, once you managed to get somewhat ready, you both left. You climbed in the driver's seat but Reid stopped you from getting in. "I'll drive, you're probably tired," You wanted to protest but stopped and just went into the passenger's side. "You know where I live, right?" You asked, Reid nodded. "Yeah, I do, remember when I had to drop off something from the office?" You snickered at the time he came to your apartment with a present in his hand, it was from Garcia of course, nothing special, only a candle that was always burning at her house when you visited. She said it might help you fall asleep, it did. (But you would never let her know that) Arriving Reid got out his gun and began to walk towards your apartment, you followed close beside him. Before he opened the door to your apartment though he pushed you back behind him. "Stay behind me, I'll go in first," You nodded and when he opened the door he quickly scanned it. No one, you sighed a breath of relief and looked in the drawer where you keep your stuff. "Oh thank god," He had left your gun and badge alone. Reid began looking around your apartment, things were scattered everywhere from when you fought Noah, and when you ran out of your apartment. Reid quickly began to piece together the night before as you grabbed your stuff. "Hey Reid, I'm gonna get ready for work, you can go if you want, I'll be fine." Reid smiled, "Hey, I'm not gonna leave just yet, he still could come back. He sat in the loveseat and began to read a book near him, passing each page in less than ten seconds. You let him be and got ready for work. Once you had finished the both of you walked out together, you grabbed your gun and badge before locking the door. Reid then began to drive the both of you to work. He grabbed his phone to alert Hotch of the situation. He vaguely described the situation, naming Noah and what he did to you, specifying that you were in danger and that we needed to find him before worrying about anything else. You heard Hotch through the phone saying that no new cases had come up so he would alert the team. Reid hung up, "Thank you, thank you so much," He looked at you and smiled, "No problem, It's what a good friend should do," Arriving at Quantico you both went in, Hotch called the team into the conference room and Garcia briefed them on the information. "Alrighty, here we have Noah Dugard, 26, tried to assault our good friend over here," She pointed at me, "He is considered a danger to her and needs to be found, he works at a Software Engineering company here," She clicks her remote and the location of his work is listed. "I called them earlier and they said that he didn't show up today and called in sick. So let's go find em' crime fighters." Hotch spoke to the team, "Dave and I will go to the apartment, Emily, you and JJ go to his work and ask around to who might know where he may be going, Morgan, you and Reid go to his apartment and see what you can find." You stammered, "What about me?" Hotch answered quickly, anticipating your question. "You stay here, you need to rest, Garcia might need you as well," You looked down and fumbled with your fingers as the rest of the team left. Garcia eventually needed you to see if you could identify Noah so that her picture was correct. You did and she called the team to tell them. You looked around her office and saw the many different knick-knacks that covered every surface. To a bystander, this would look cluttered and messy, but you knew better. Every time you had come into her office she had everything in the same place, pencils, pens, folders, and even tape. All of the supplies had their little designated place, you messed with the fuzzy ends of some of the pens while she clacked on her keyboard. "Hey!" She grabbed the pen out of your hand, "That's my special pen, Morgan gave it to me," You snickered. Suddenly the phone rang and Garcia used the pen to click the answer button. "My favorite crime fighters, what have you got for me?" "No trace of Noah anywhere, but his apartment was ripped to shreds, he must've been looking for something." You realized what it was. "Oh god," You rubbed your head, "His Glock 19..." Hotch heard you and asked Garcia to do more research, she clicked him off and you paced the room. "God, how the hell could I have forgotten he had a gun? His father gave it to him right before we started dating, he even promised that if I was in danger he would have no problem in using it." You rubbed your temples, a headache already forming. "It's alright, sometimes I forget important things too, like birthdays. I always forget birthdays." She sighed and continued clacking on her keyboard. You went to go get a cup of coffee, it would probably worsen your headache but you didn't mind. The break room was quiet and the smell of coffee was comforting. You had let your guard down and didn't even notice the door opening, or the sound of footsteps you knew all too well. "Sit the fuck down, we have some talking to do."
Tag List for “Hurt” (Not sure why the last one don’t wanna work, might just be goin crazy though)
@la-vie-en-amour1 @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13 @aperrywilliams @hopebaker @etheralangel
#matthew gray gubler#criminal minds#cm#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#reid fanfic#reid fanfiction#cm fanfic#cm fanfiction#reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#cm x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#angsty#fbi#bau#behavioral analysis unit#criminal minds story#cm story
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Onward and Upward
ao3
Summary: At his internship with Hawks, Izuku was starting to feel burnt out.
He hadn't considered that Hawks was, too.
For @hawksweek2020 Day 2: Wholesome Gen
Characters: Hawks, Midoriya Izuku
Rating: G
Izuku’s clumsy maneuvering was not enough to keep up with Hawks as he zipped in and out of the traffic below. Instead, he kept himself high above with blasts from his gauntlets and looked for the streak of red wings to catch his eye. He saw it between one gust and the next and cut his action short to let himself fall. Right before landing, he flicked the air one more time so he wouldn’t crack the cement. His heavy boots clunked, but no cracks appeared. Victory! His control in the air was getting better. Still nowhere near Hawks’s, of course, but maybe even just straggling behind him these past 3 weeks of the internship was enough to learn what he needed.
A red feather flew by, and Izuku startled. He’d spent just a second to celebrate his progress, and he’d lost sight of Hawks. Feathers flew up from where they’d been handcuffing a villain, autographing everything from receipts to skin, and making swirling shapes for a bus of children. Izuku leapt up and flung himself after them. He groaned in frustration as the school of feathers took a sharp turn and disappeared, leaving him to skid to a stop on top of a building and run from edge to edge, looking for the feathers in desperation.
In the end, he couldn’t find them, and plopped himself down on a propane tank. He’d get going in a second, but he’d already fallen far enough behind that a five minute break to catch his breath was really no big deal, so he pulled out phone and scrolled through his messages. Uraraka had sent him a selfie of her and her mentor, Axis, the Flip Hero. They were standing upside down on a hot air balloon hundreds of feet in the air. Uraraka’s hair fell at her shoulders instead of hanging toward the ground. Cool! He responded with a “looks fun!!!” and switched to his notes app to type in some quick thoughts about Axis’s quirk. He answered his mom’s texts before moving on to Todoroki’s.
“What!?” he yelled when he saw the picture Todoroki had sent him. It was Hawks, talking with the police alongside Endeavor, mid-gesture with one hand in the air and the other pushing his visor onto his forehead. The next message read “where are you??”
He immediately replied with “SEND ME YOUR LOCATION ASAP” and shot to his feet to start heading east, the general direction of Endeavor’s agency.
Izuku wondered if Tokoyami’s internship last year was like this. Surely not—right?—or Tokoyami would have warned him! His legs ached, his eyes were dry and itchy from the wind, and his throat and chest burned from sucking in more air than he was used to, even after three weeks of it. He was camping out at Hawks’s agency for the duration of the internship, and every morning when he stumbled, sore and bleary, into the kitchen to grab his yogurt, Hawks’s sidekicks would smile at him sympathetically. Had everyone known Hawks was like this except for Izuku? He’d thought Gran Torino went too fast for him, but Hawks was on a whole new level.
His first day at the agency had been a little slower, Hawks showing him around and asking him about himself, where he was from, did he like the dorms at UA, oh yeah it’s a good thing those teachers prioritized the safety of students, that dang league of villains, did he have any idea why Shigaraki had it out for him and Kacchan specifically? And what was his favorite flavor of yogurt so they could keep it stocked in the fridge? Then they left on patrol, and Izuku had been going full speed just trying to keep up ever since.
His phone pinged with the location and he adjusted his course, mumbling a mantra of please still be there please still be there under his breath. How did Hawks get so far so quickly? Izuku pushed himself harder, not wanting to be left behind the rest of the day if he got there and Hawks was already gone.
When Izuku skidded in, short of breath and clumsy with fatigue, Todoroki greeted him with a blunt “Hello,” and Hawks greeted him with “Midoriya-kun! There you are!” and a laugh.
Hawks ducked his head and leaned toward Todoroki, dramatically shielding his mouth with a hand, and said, in a whisper louder than Izuku’s normal speaking voice, “Hey, Todoroki-kun, did I break him? He’s got that blank look. Like a rebooting computer.”
“That’s just how he always looks,” responded Todorki with no reaction to Hawks’s joking except to slide his eyes over to the side.
“What! What do I look like?”
“Adorable is what you look like!” Hawks said with a smile that softened the sharpness of his eyes and rounded his cheeks. “Come ‘ere! Smile!” he chimed as he held his phone out for a selfie. Izuku did, but was certain he looked anxious or shy. “You too, Endeavor-san, Todoroki-kun!”
Neither smiled or moved closer to be in the picture. “Aw, you’re no fun,” Hawks continued as he started to walk by them. At least he’s walking, Izuku thought as he scurried to catch up, and not flying or leaping or spinning. “Thanks anyway, you two. I’ll fax those right over when I get back to my agency. Or, well, tomorrow morning, actually. See ya!”
Oh no. Hawks was going to take off again. Izuku’s stomach jumped in dread, and then they were off. This time, Hawks went above the buildings instead of weaving between them, and that, at least, Izuku could keep up with. Up here, it didn’t matter if he went slightly too fast to control: there was nothing to crash into: no buildings, no pedestrians, and no pavement. Hawks, ahead of him, had his visor down over his eyes again and kept his body streamlined with an occasional flap of his wings. He rode the wind with casual grace, while Izuku jerked himself along with his air blasts.
By the time Hawks lowered himself onto a roof, Izuku’s hair was no longer curly— they’d been going fast enough that the wind had blown the curls straight out. When he thunked down next to Hawks, it flopped into his eyes. He pushed it back up, his fingers pulling through tangles and the remains of little bugs.
“Good job, Deku!” Hawks told him with a pat on the back. “You’ve got the speed and power, now you just need some precision.”
Izuku already knew that, but couldn’t help smiling anyway. “Thanks! I’ve been working hard!”
“Yeah, you’re a good intern. The best, actually,” Hawks beamed at him. “You and Tokoyami.”
“I– Thanks!”
Hawks was still smiling as he told Izuku, “Okay. You wait here at my agency. I’ve got some things to do; I’ll see you when I get back tonight.”
“Wha-” Izuku looked around and realized that were indeed standing on top of Hawks’s agency office. “Oh.” His enthusiasm, which had been soaring only a moment ago, collapsed and started to drip down to the street below. “Okay!” he called after Hawks, who was already flying away.
Izuku took the roof entrance, and the sidekicks and secretaries grinned at him as he trudged past.
“Deku!” called Lava, Hawks’s sidekick with the ability to attract and absorb flame. “I like the hairdo!”
Despite his low mood, Izuku grinned back at him. “It’s the latest style, you know!” He reached the door to his room, then had a thought and backtracked. “Oh, hey, do you have any projects here I can work on? Hawks, uh… ”
“Oh, sure thing! Here, come help me with this write-up.”
This is good, Izuku told himself as he crunched through the report, this is good. Yes, he needed to work on his “flying,” but this was good! He was learning the nitty gritty of hero agencies, the not-so-glamorous work behind the scenes. This was good.
The work was simple, plugging in numbers and words to a pre-existing template, so his mind wandered. He thought of his internship with Gran Torino and how much the veteran had taught him. He remembered Endeavor, who’d trained him and Kacchan because Todoroki made him. With Nighteye, he’d at least learned from Lemillion.
Why did Hawks request an internship if he wasn’t even going to <em>try</em> to mentor him? He was happy that his friends were excited about their internships and learning a lot, but he ached a little bit too. Deku, left behind again, it seemed. Don’t need to worry about him, he’s quirkless anyway, he’s not worth the effort.
Izuku stomped down on his spiraling thoughts. It’s not like that, he told himself. Hawks doesn’t think that, he’s just… busy. But, was that any better? Either way, he was missing his opportunity and falling further and further behind his classmates, and he couldn’t let All Might down like that.
Izuku braced his shoulders with resolve. As soon as he saw Hawks, he would confront him. Nothing disrespectful, just standing his ground to be taken seriously or sent to intern somewhere else. Hawks couldn’t take issue with that because he’d done the same thing at the hero billboards.
Izuku completed the write-up with vigor and handed it to Lava with a request for a new task. He repeated that process several times, until Lava didn’t have anything for him except, “Ummm, lemme see… you could sweep? The broom’s in the kitchen closet.”
When he finished sweeping and returned to Lava, he was stopped before he could even open his mouth. “Nuh-uh! You’re finished. It’s dinnertime. Half the office has left already, you can go ahead and call it a day.”
“But, I, uh, I needed to talk to Hawks.”
Lava grabbed a post-it and wrote on it in barely legible loops. “No worries,” he said, standing up and strolling to the door to Hawks’s office. “He’ll see this when he gets back, and you’re staying here at the agency, so he can pop right over and talk to you. Now shoo!”
Izuku dragged his feet down the stairs back to his room. He waited, but Hawks didn’t come. After a couple hours, he went back up to the office area, but it was locked and the lights were off. Eventually, he forced himself to accept that Hawks wasn’t going to come talk to him and went to bed.
In the morning, Hawks was sitting haphazardly on the backrest of a chair in the lounge, his wings behind him touching the floor. He jangled an empty energy drink can, then shot it into the small waste bin like a basketball.
“Deku!” he called with a grin, jumping down. “You ready to head out?” Hawks coughed and pounded a fist on his chest. “Ugh, breathed in a lot of smoke last night.”
They left through the roof door as usual, but this time before Hawks could take off, Izuku stopped him.
“I, uh, can we talk, real quick?”
Hawks relaxed from his takeoff stance, leaning back and putting his hands in his pockets. “Oh, yeah. I saw Lava’s note, but it was already super late when I got back and I figured you’d probably be asleep already. What’s up?” he asked with a tilt of his head.
“Ummm, well, uh, I. I know that you’re the hero who’s a bit too fast, that’s what they say, but, I keep getting left behind.” Now that he’d gotten started, Izuku remembered his resolve and forgot his awkward nervousness. “I came to this internship because I wanted to learn from you, but I’ve barely had the chance. I’m requesting either that you start to mentor me for real, or that you place me with another hero for the rest of the internship.” Izuku paused for a beat, then blushed. “Uh, sir,” he added with a hasty bow.
Hawks blinked, surprised. “C’mere,” he said, gesturing with his head toward the ledge. “Let’s have a seat.”
Hawks leaned back on his hands and dangled his legs over the side to kick his feet back and forth. As Izuku sat down next to him, Hawks turned away to cough into the collar of his jacket, which Izuku noticed was a little singed.
Apparently the leg-swinging was contagious, because Izuku couldn’t help but do it as well. Hawks looked into the clouds over the city, and Izuku looked at Hawks. He looked wistful, with a sad smile on his face, and Izuku’s heart sunk. He hadn’t realized that he preferred staying with Hawks as an intern until he saw the look on his face like he was going to say goodbye, and all of a sudden, Izuku was preparing himself for the sting of another adult not willing to put in the effort for an awkward, hopeless kid. He steeled himself. He’d move on from it with thicker skin, like he always did.
“Sorry about that,” Hawks said. “Sometimes I get so wrapped up in everything I forget that there are other important parts of being a hero.” He looked Izuku in the eyes. “Thanks for reminding me.” From so close, Izuku could see the bags under his eyes. How late had he gotten back last night, to assume that Izuku would be asleep? He remembered an analyst he’d listened to back in middle school who’d claimed that Hawks would burn out of the Top Ten within a year.
Izuku fidgeted. “Why do you…go so fast all the time?”
Hawks sighed and coughed again, but when his face turned back to Izuku, he was smiling. “Just, you know. Making a better world, for future heroes like you. Heroes should be able to relax, too. Who knows,” he said, staring back out at the sky, “by the time you graduate, maybe we won’t even need so many heroes, and you can kick back and take it easy as an analyst or something.”
“But I want to be a hero! Ever since I was little, it’s been my dream, to be like All Might.”
“Ah, I guess you and I are pretty similar, huh?” Hawks smiled and gave Izuku a playful punch to the arm. “For me, it was Endeavor.”
Izuku grit his teeth, his usual reaction any time Endeavor came up in conversation, but he was also surprised. Endeavor was from a later generation than All Might—Hawks was young enough for Endeavor to be his childhood hero? He’d known Hawks was the youngest in the Top Ten, but he hadn’t quite realized. “Oh,” was all he could say.
“So,” Hawks said, stretching his wings out behind him with a flutter. “That’s my reason. Work hard now, save others the pain. I guess I’ve been slacking on your training a bit because, in my mind, such promising kids like you and Tokoyami shouldn’t need to be heroes, if that makes sense. You should be able to do whatever you want, yeah? But since you want to be a hero, I’ll honor that. What do you want to learn?”
Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, trying to force his thoughts together. There was something here that wasn’t quite connecting. He tugged Hawks’s words through his mind, but they still didn’t click, and he glanced up and noticed Hawks looking at him with one eyebrow raised expectantly.
“Oh! I-” he stammered. “I’ve been wanting to work on my air speed and technique!”
“Perfect,” Hawks grinned. “You’ve come to the right place,” he said, heaving himself back up. He stretched his arms above his head and twisted from side to side and pulled his visor back down, and Izuku noticed that the bags under his eyes were invisible under the visor.
Tiredness like the kind Hawks was hiding didn’t come from a single late night. People often called Hawks lazy because he talked about wanting a day off and wanting heroes to be able to take it easy. Was that really lazy, though? Or was he just tired? It clicked in Izuku’s head, then. Hawks worked as hard and went as fast as he did so that no one else would have to do what he did.
“Um, Hawks? Do you- do you not want to be a hero?” Izuku asked, scrambling to his feet.
Hawks lifted himself off the ground with a flap of his wings.
“‘Course I do,” he said solemnly. “Who doesn’t?
He turned away toward the city, leaving his back toward Izuku. “Here,” he said over his shoulder.“The first step is your angle. I think your problem is that you always fling yourself at a square angle, either straight up or straight forward. Let’s head off, and you try matching my angle this time.”
Overcoming his habit of just going straight up, Izuku took off after Hawks at the same angle.
With one hand, he gave Izuku a bright thumbs up. With the other, he held up his collar and coughed into it.
“Onward we go,” he said with a huff that was either a laugh or a sigh, Izuku wasn’t sure which.
He didn’t think Hawks knew, either.
#since my last one flopped big time#here's my next story for hawksweek lol#also a day early bc i am impatient#hawksweek2020#hawks#bnha#midoriya izuku#mha#bnha fic
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