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ryoskuna · 4 years ago

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⭑ promised eternity | hades!sukuna x persephone!reader au headcanons (PT 1).

A/N: ... yo... i would like to say whoever threatened to send me toe pics, a-plus, bc you made me release this into the wild. * insert megumi meme face here * but this is just HEADCANONS for a hades!sukuna and persephone!reader-esque universe, and because y’all are as thirsty as I am, it includes some SFW and NSFW headcanons. grab your water bottles, and I apologize for my subconscious now. (cause it’s always on auto-pilot and giving me wild af ideas.) We shall all thirst... over OG form sukuna as well, because ,, well, big daddy, do i need to say more??? also this is some seriously fantasy like au , sort of, it takes place during sukuna’s original time as a curse, when gojo’s ancestor was after him, and hints wildly on that, and also will hit moments where the sorcerers are of course, hunting him. feel free to give me your thoughts and ask questions, because i love you all. onward to the THIRST! ( also side note, promised eternity is the name of the potential series that may come from this. )

this is part one of the headcanons, and they’re all SFW.

being married to the king of curses is not easy. it’s awkward at first, and then later on, comforting at best. to have someone who believes in you, roots you on (even if he’s kind of mean about it at first), is better than having nothing. you’ve been looked at for so long as a “curse” for your untrained cursed energy, that to have someone who sees potential in your “god” given gifts instead of spite (or only useful in preventing a raid) is refreshing. and unsettling at first.

speaking of that, sukuna basically rescued you from your village. for the entirety of your life before him, your cursed energy has gone unchecked, untrained. so it fluctuates with your emotions. it’s useful when you summon your wrath to defend your village or when your untrained reverse cursed techniques help the crops grow— but any other time, you are known as a curse. your emotions grow sad or you grow angry, and people die accidentally. ( hence your harbinger of death nickname. ) sukuna, during his many trips to your village for taxes and the occasional “recruitment” of healthy women and me, he has noticed you. and he has noticed your vast amount of cursed energy. it’s all but too easy for him to command the head of your village to hand you over — your parent(s) have no say.

sukuna is generous enough to compensate them, and the head of village. it’s one of few kindnesses he’ll show, besides eventually to you. sukuna will never tell, not till much later on, that he noticed you in every visit he’s ever made. that you deserved better than the mockery and scorn of your people. he offers to burn them all for you, but your mercy says otherwise.

speaking of when he came to get you, he was 10 feet tall, dressed in a black montsuki kimono and hakama. all four of his arms are on display, and all four of his eyes are on you.

you, are in a shiromuku, complete with a wataboshi — you and your mother (or a village woman) made it, but it will not be the last of your “bridal” gowns as you travel through at least five villages before arriving at sukuna’s fortress-like palace. sukuna has prepared you both a uchikake style kimono (adorned with pinks and reds), a hikifurisode style kimono (black, but also adorned with whites and golds and reds)— lastly is the Tomesode, which you arrive to your new home in, adorned in pins and signs of your new status. it’s here you discover you are not meant to be a mistress, you are meant to be a wife. his wife. his first, and his only (or at least he’ll try to keep it that way).

sukuna does not make time for much. rumors of him are notorious of his over-indulgence, guided by only his pleasure and displeasure, which is slightly true. but he makes time for you. you aren’t like the others he’s taken in his time, whether for his entertainment or to be in his service (you are not his toy as he has a habit of disposing of his playthings once they bore him); you’re his wife, but you are also this powerful being, who if trained, will become even more powerful. if you were a sorcerer, you’d rival him — but you are his equal.

he tries to make you feel that way by shrinking down to your size. he drops his 10 ft height (even through he can grow larger), to 6′8 or 7ft (pick your preference). it helps him watch the way you fight him, and he’ll change his height to help you train to fight enemies of different sizes.

sukuna’s loyalty to you forms in the midst of gifts. he’s lavish and again, over-indulgent. before your lips ask for it, somehow you already have whatever you desire. however, he also realizes, the more that he’s around you that gifts don’t make you happy (as pleasing as they are). being in his company is what makes you happy. oh, and sukuna’s very careful to touch you. his strength knows no bounds, until you touch him. you have to be the one that touches him first. it’s a brush over the knuckles, your tiny hand wrapping around his big one.

the way you manipulate plants to your advantage as a defense will never not amaze him. the way you use vines to wrap around him to capture him is genius, and the sneak attack you give has gotten better. he’ll still tease you ask “is that the best you can do” with your hits to provoke more of your strength, and he’ll give praise at the end, in his own way. (more touches.)

sukuna’s untouched garden becomes yours as one of your wedding gifts. it’s yours, and all the servants know it. everyone on his grounds knows it is yours.

you haven’t realized it since your arrival, but there are female servants that are your handmaidens, but for the harem that sukuna supposedly keeps — you have no idea where they are. it isn’t till one of your handmaidens inform you that he freed them with compensation. it’s not an uncommon practice for him, you’re told. he does not keep anyone against their will, and he never forced the girls he kept to do anything. for him, war and fighting made his blood rush just as much as sex could.

you and sukuna’s cursed energy manages to mingle to create a rare flower, one that turns from a gold color to red at the tips of the petals. he later tells you that beautiful things can come from destruction, and it makes you think of yourself, and who you’ve become with his guidance as you look into his eyes.

the first time you sleep in his bed with him, he lays still on one side of the bed (which is unusual for him) until you beckon him closer. he meets you halfway in the middle, where you lay your head on his chest and listen to the sound of him breathing. he’ll never admit it at first, but the comfort you give to him is startling, but welcomed. he wraps two arms around you, but it isn’t until you’re sleep that all four hold you gently against him, as if those four arms are shields to keep you safe.

He admires your strength and the various ways it shows itself. He has since your “wedding day”, when you shed no tears at being taken from your family. When you told him “do what you will”, but also in your rage he tapped into when you wrapped thorny vines around him when he provoked you by calling you “a murderous curse of a girl”. He apologizes for this comment at some point, while you two lay together in the garden.

he presents to you a crown, shaped after the marks on his forehead (preserved through a picture painted on a fan). it is two horns towards the ceiling, made of black metal the color of obsidian.

sukuna enjoys towering over you. and more importantly, once it no longer startles you, you enjoy the safety that his height reminds you of.

the form of trust sukuna has with you is seen by the servants when assigns advisors to you, as well as teaches you how to deal with trials when they come forth. you are his rose with thorns now, and you know how to use them.

someone speaks ill of sukuna? you are reminding them of their place: “speak ill of your king again with that tongue of yours and i’ll take it”

OKAY BADASS, and sukuna is all for it, just “that’s my s/o”

and lord, the pet names this man has for you: “my dove” “my love” “my moon” and you with: “my sun and stars” (thank u got)... he’s got a lot of pet names.

he likes to hold you on his side for some reason, whenever he can. honestly, he just likes you close.

basically, you’re tough as hell and powerful as hell and you grow into your added strength and he loves it.

can you say POWER COUPLE OF THE AGES

#persephone & hades au ft. sukuna.#persephone and hades au ft. sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna.#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk hcs #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk.#ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna #ryomen sukuna

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infitsovermisfits · 2 years ago

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What Should Have Been - Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson - Fix-it Fic

WARNINGS: Fix it fic for season 4 because what the fuck was that, ends in Steddie (as it should), Max and Eddie are established friends, spoilers for episodes 1-4 of season 4, questioning of sexuality, mentions of knives, mentions of bullying and harassment, graphic descriptions of injuries, drinking, angst that gets resolved

INFO: what do you mean this isn't how season 4 was supposed to go? The duffer brothers are clearly wrong and I'm 100% right- they leaked the scripts and here I am, writing it out for u all?? (/j /sar) no but seriously I think there was a lot of wasted potential regarding certain character relationships that could have been fun so here. *cough cough if you also think max and eddie should have been best friends let me shamelessly plug my other fic *cough cough* My idea of a fix it fic :) enjoy!

7130 words

There were many colourful nicknames Eddie Munson's classmates had given him over the years. Some he wouldn't repeat; some that faded into oblivion; some he still heard every day. Eddie 'The Freak' stuck for the longest, and by his second time attempt at passing Senior year, he wore it more as a badge of pride.

Eddie 'The Banished' was undoubtedly new.

Since he was young, Eddie knew he was different to the other kids, and he never understood why. Maybe because of his interest in metal and rock music, long, long books about Middle Earth and a rampant obsession with a fantasy roleplaying game weren't seen as 'cool' to the other kids. Maybe because they grew out of playing in pretend worlds and wormed their way into the new, mature adult one faster than him, chasing after boyfriends and girlfriends and climbing the invisible rungs of a fabricated social ladder. Eddie was never interested in that. Never felt compelled to chase, or climb, or reach anything that hadn't already been obtained by someone more qualified. He didn't need to land on the moon or reinvent the wheel to have a good time on this planet.

As time passed, he got good at hiding from that side of the world- busying himself with a new campaign to torment his Hellfire club with, searching for the outcasts to invite them to join, or learning the riffs to a new Metallica or Black Sabbath song on the Warlock Wayne had bought him for his fifteenth when he got his first A in his English class. It was so easy to disappear, considering how society either looked down on him, or forgot about him altogether.

Eddie was aware of the new names he was branded with: 'Satanist', 'Cult Leader', 'Murdurer'. He heard it from the townsfolk who passed the boathouse a few days ago when he had half a mind to hide out at Reefer Ricks. Frankly, he thought it was hilarious. He knew himself well enough to not make deals with people he didn't trust and that he certainly didn't steal black cats and sacrifice them to the Devil. He far preferred to pet them. And though he'd never admit it, the idea of death made him uneasy for many reasons, he'd never think to open up about.

Chrissy Cunningham was someone he watched from afar as she climbed the ladder of High School popularity, claiming her 'Queen of Hawkins High' crown the moment she started dating Jason 'The Asshole' Carver. She wouldn't remember him- the boy with the buzzcut playing a fair rendition of AC/DC's 'Back in Black' at a talent show? He didn't place at all and she placed second. He'd pass her in the halls amongst her cheer friends, muttering things about him he learned to block out.

So when he got a note in Algebra signed with her initials that she wanted to buy, he was confused. Seeing her in person at the small table was shocking too, though her... Kindness was something he wasn't expecting. Something he perhaps didn't deserve. And when she asked for something stronger, and he offered to take her up on that offer after the campaign finished, he should have realised something was up.

He could still see her horrifically bent body, her pure white eyes as she floated up to his ceiling, the blood that dripped from them and the vacant holes they left behind; still hear the crunches and snaps of her bones and neck breaking whenever he closed his eyes, or tried to sleep under the tarp in Reefer Ricks's boat. What the hell even happened that night?

Those images and the pain in his knee from when he'd fallen as he ran away reminded him this was real life. That did happen. He wasn't stuck in another horrific nightmare. He wasn't drugged- he was stone-cold fucking sober. Well, until he found a bottles of beer stashed away in the corner and began downing them in hopes he'd pass out and get a wink of sleep.

Steve Harrington was the last person he expected to see, let alone jabbing him with an oar.

The broken bottle at his neck was maybe a bit much for a first greeting but they'd found him. They could turn him in, he had to defend himself. Eventually, once the adrenaline rushing through him subsided he realised Henderson was there, urging him to calm down. It wasn't until he surveyed the group for any more threats did his eyes meet Max Mayfields and he relaxed, moving and sliding down the wall, away from the guy he'd threatened and shaking.

Of all the people he'd expect to protect him- though the list wasn't long- he didn't expect the former king of Hawkins, Steve 'The Hair' Harrington to be part of the mix.

Max being there was shocking too.

This was the kid he had welcomed to the trailer park halfway through the summer with warm words and reassurances that although this wasn't a five-star hotel, she'd warm up to the trailer park eventually. The kid whose cassettes he'd fix if the tape wound too far and bond over their love for Kate Bush. The kid whose skateboard he fixed twice, would laugh at, then help up if she fell, and talk to on the late nights when neither could sleep and found themselves on the rusty swing set of the playground separating their homes. The kid who had just lost her brother in the mall fire, and quickly found him risen from the ashes in the form of Eddie Munson- never cruel to her, never yelling at her. Always gentle and understanding, and quick to distract her from the thoughts and regrets running rampant in her brain.

Though she was resentful of him at first, over the few months, she opened up to him- mostly because he wouldn't leave her alone.

Following Chrissy's death and his exile to Rick's boat house, he was filled with more surprise when the red-head decided to stay with him. Though he was twice her size, she'd asked for Harrington's baseball bat- "Y'know- the one with the nails!"- and patrolled the small room from window to window, holding it like a soldier at the foot of a palace,

"Hey, uh..." He was sitting inside the dingy little row boat, throwing a few pebbles he had gathered into an empty soup can to entertain himself. He was never good at sports of any kind so most of the pebbles ended up bouncing off the metal and clattering against the wood. He was, however, great at talking, "Why'd you ask to stay here, Red?" He asked, glancing at the rings on his fingers and twisting them once his hands were vacant, "You could have just left me the bat and-"

"Yeah, cause you know how to use it," She said, a sharp, sarcastic edge lacing her words together. He found a small smile creeping its way onto his lips, the first in what felt like days, and with a small shake of his head, he glanced back down, "Besides, you're a friend-"

"A friend?" It was hard not to conceal the surprise in his voice as she said it. Eddie rarely made any friends these days, and she had no reason not to believe he was behind Chrissy's murder. She even confessed at some point she was the last to see them together. His gaze fell back on her- she had left her post, moving over to the boat and using the bat as a cane to lean on, staring at him with those ice-cold, blue eyes,

"Well, yeah," She said, "You've... I never got to thank you for everything you've done for me," She said, moving into the boat opposite him and sitting down, pushing the rocks that ended up on the seat onto the floor of the boat, "You made me feel... Better when everything was shitty," She said with a small breathy laugh, glancing back at him, "So thanks, Eddie," She smiles, before hanging her head to collect the rest of the rocks.

When had the last time someone outside of Hellfire said those words? They weren't sarcastic, or mocking... They were honest. He blinked slowly, stalling to let his confidence rebuild itself, before he cleared his throat,

"You've got nothing to thank me for, Red. Anyone would have done that," He's playing with his rings again, "I'm fairly sure Harrington would jump at the opportunity to help any day," The sting of bitterness in his tone was clear and he grimaced as he bounced his foot and stared at his leg moving. His eyes found the 'bat with the nails' resting against the side of the boat, questions like what the fuck Harrington needs a weapon like that for, "Is this even real?" He asks, amusement clear in his voice as he reaches a hand out to touch the handle.

He never got to play stupid baseball with his old man- too busy drinking and stealing an idiot's car, attempting to sell it halfway across the state to care what his son was up to, or interested in. He recalled getting laughed at in Phys. Ed. for missing the ball every time they'd play, cowering slightly whenever it flew too close to his face, or one of the kids threw the bat too hard at him and it just slipped his fingers, or hit his arms or feet. He'd much rather run laps around the field until his legs gave out, his lungs became void of air and bile rose in his throat than attempt to play the damn game. Did you need to have good aim with rusty nails sticking out the ends of the bat?

"What's Harrington need it for- Jesus Christ-!" He topples out of the boat at the sight of Max's ghostly face, eyes plain white and staring ahead, unmoving. He lands with a loud thud, and hears her gasp for air as he scrambles to get out of the tarp he's caught in,

"Eddie- what the hell!?" He hears her yell, then her footsteps, as she jumps out of the boat and grabs the tarp off of him. It's yanked and scrambles backwards, staring in fear at her scrunched face, though her eyes back to normal and she's glaring at him, "Are you trying to give yourself away!?" She huffs in annoyance as he freezes, chest heaving as he stares confused. She grabs the bat again and begins to pace, looking out of the windows and leaving him to pant on the ground and collect himself,

"What- Are you okay?" He asks as he stands shakily- his head's spinning. She quickly grabs him by his vest, pulling him down so his head isn't visible through the windows,

"I am going to knock you on the head with this-" She gestures to the bat, "Keep your head down," She hisses, standing at the window near them and looking out of it cautiously. He nods slightly as she lets go of him, before collapsing on a box of something, cradling his throbbing head in his hands and gripping his hair, tugging on it,

"Fucking-" He hisses to himself, looking back at her as she turns to glare at him again, "What the fuck happened to you?" He demands in a hushed whisper,

"What do you mean what happened to me?" She asks. He scoffs, glancing around the empty room, before turning his gaze back to her. She makes a confused gesture, "What?"

"Your eyes! They went all... Freaky and white like... Like Chrissy's before she-" He gestures roughly upwards to the ceiling with his hand and shakes his head, "Just- can you not freak me out like that? I'm already on the verge of a nervous fucking breakdown," He says shakily, not even trying to hide the immense amounts of fear circulating through his body as he clenches and unclenches his empty hands,

"Wh- what?" She asks, "I didn't... I..." She blinks rapidly, glancing back at the boat,

"You didn't what, Red?" He asks, "I saw you. Did you have some... Some fucking seizure? Or what-"

"No!" She quickly says, though clenches her jaw and glances back at the boat,

"Then what?" He demands, "What was that?" She doesn't meet his gaze, eyes darting around the empty room looking for the words,

"I don't... Know," She hisses, crouching down near him, "This... This has been happening since... Since Billy uh..." She gestures vaguely so she doesn't have to say he's dead. Eddie saw the papers and news reports, so he nods for her to go on, "I get these nightmares... The ones I'd tell you about," He remembers, "Sometimes... I just have them even when I'm awake," She admits, in such a quiet voice he can barely hear her. His gaze softens at the tear slipping down her cheek, "But you can't tell the others," She says quickly, reaching a hand to wipe the tear away,

"Why not? Do they not know?" He asks,

"No, and I'd prefer it stays that way," She says coldly, standing and moving to the other window, "Why'd you care anyway?" He should tell her. He should say it. In case she ends up like Chrissy or in case the police heard him screaming and are on their way to haul his ass to jail for the foreseeable future,

"Maybe cause... I don't know- I care about you, Red?" He says, glancing over her face as she whips her head around to stare at him. Even though her eyes are that same cold blue, they've softened, "And... I don't want you to end up like Chrissy," He sighs, hanging his head.

Because if he could prevent Max's death, maybe it'd be enough to quell the guilt eating at him from the inside out.

Hearing Harrington's urgent yells for help startle him. They're followed by Henderson and Sinclair's cursing. They shut their respective car doors with such force the car shakes, and when he looks out of the window, making sure only his eyes are visible, Eddie sees Max is unresponsive. Harrington's hands are on her shoulders, shaking her with a similar urgency Eddie had when he attempted to unsuccessfully wake Chrissy from her trance only a few days ago.

Eddie had always thought he was selfish. Why should he care for anyone else when so few cared for him? He grew up learning quickly that isolation was good for him. And damn his large heart seeing the lost sheep, the misfits, the social outcasts and quickly deciding he would make their high school years a hell of a lot less stressful, taking them under his wing and being there for them.

So how could he just sit by and watch Max face the same fate as Chrissy?

The walkie-talkie crackled in the seat next to him, Robin's urgent callings for anyone filling the silent car. He picked it up, extending the wire and shakily uttering her surname. That was all she needed before she began to ramble about their venture to Pennhurst, Wheeler quickly taking over and yelling that music was the key. Eddie knew music. He knew Max's favourite song- he had been the one to show it to her after all.

He didn't think. That always got him into more trouble than was worth, but now? In a life or death situation? He couldn't waste the moments banging on the windows of Harringtons' car to try to signal the group's attention. With the Kate Bush tape, walkman and headphones clutched firmly in his hands, he shoved the car door, leaving it open as he sprinted up the small hill and towards the panicked group in the middle of the Cemetary. He didn't even bother to check the street for oncoming cars, or the graveyard for any mourners.

In urgent moments like these, Eddie wished he hadn't skipped Phys. Ed. so much in his later high school years, opting to smoke or deal, hidden away somewhere outside. This year, he had only run from the cops or from the Jocks trying to attack him for making fun of them after another failure on the basketball court. He'd have to add running from his small-minded home town to save his sister to that list if he made it. Yelling to the group to signal their attention, he was met with their horrified and confused faces, Henderson screaming about him needing to get back in the car and hide.

Eddie fumbles with the items in his hands, breathing out desperately that 'music was the key' as he sets the headphones over Max's ears, though he recoils and drops the tape in the grass with a hardly audible thud at the sight of her pure white eyes. He stumbles away as Lucas grabs it, clicking it in place in the walkman, the faint drums of 'Running Up That Hill' being heard over their desperate yells and attempts to wake her.

And when she floats into the air, Eddie feels his chest constrict and he can't breathe, backing up in terror and stumbling over a grave, landing harshly in the dirt as the other boys yell for Max to wake up. This was it, he breathes, not loud enough for them to hear, but to himself. He was too late, he knew it. He could tell that she was gone just like-

Max drops from the sky suddenly, his heart going with her, burning away in his stomach. She falls into the group's arms, and he feels like throwing up as he hears her heavy breaths and sobs, and the worried voices of Dustin and Lucas asking if she's okay. He struggles to stand on weak legs, shaking as he approaches them and meets her tear-filled, thankful eyes. He can only nod at the weak 'thank you' she gives, before turning her head to rest against Lucas, searching for comfort.

Eddie drops down into a crouch, hand touching Dustin's back and patting the terrified kid as he grips Max's arm, as if the kid's afraid she'll float away on them again,

"I didn't run away this time..." Eddie finally speaks breathlessly, to no one in particular. But for once, his brain is empty of everything and all he can think is that he saved her life. A slight smile ghosts his lips as he glances between Dustin and Steve,

"You didn't," Dustin tells him with a nod. For once in his life, he hadn't run from danger like a coward. Max wasn't dead, and pride and relief filled him as he collapsed to the grass next to the group. He felt a hand touch his shoulder, patting his jacket slightly. Glancing up, he found Steve watching him, brows knit together in worry,

"We need to get you back in the car before someone sees you," He says firmly. His voice sounded far away even in their close proximity, "C'mon," Steve's reaching his hand out to him, and he accepts the help, feeling his body get pulled up to its feet. Steve's hand is warm, and doesn't feel any bigger than Eddie's, though it's softer. Much softer. And the touch, though firm, is the first thing that begins to calm Eddie's erratic heartbeat and makes him feel that much safer. The moment is quickly gone, and Eddie remembers he is a wanted man out in the open, "Lucas I'll carry her, we have to go-" Steve commands, as he picks Max up, walking quickly with the group back to the car.

Max's head lolls against Eddie's shoulder as she shuts her eyes tiredly. He can faintly hear the finishing drumbeats and the synths, along with the altered vocals of 'Running Up That Hill' through her headphones. Glancing to see Lucas already sleeping, his hands locked in a tight hold with hers, he reaches out to her walkman and rewinds her tape back to the beginning. He sets his hand back on his knee, tapping along to the rhythm of the song and glancing outside at the colourful sunset,

"Hey, uh, Munson?" Steve asks, voice soft and quiet so he doesn't wake the kids sleeping around them. It catches Eddie's attention, eyes focusing on the slithers of reflection in the overhead mirror, "I just wanted to say it was really good what you did," He says. Eddie's hand stills on his leg and he blinks slowly, "You saved her life risking yours, man. That's like..." He doesn't seem to have the words,

"Pretty metal, huh?" A proud smile spreads across Eddie's lips,

"M- Yeah? That's-" He doesn't miss the confusion in Steve's voice, catching the way his forehead creases in confusion. Eddie chuckles slightly,

"It means good, yeah, Harrington," He says in amusement at his obliviousness,

"Right," Steve nods. From the mirror, Eddie notices Steve's smiling and nodding his head, "You're a good guy, you know?" The reassurance causes Eddie to tilt his head like a dog, large brown eyes meeting Steve's soft ones for a moment in the mirror. Just a moment. That's enough to speed up Eddie's heartbeat so he can feel it against his chest,

"No need to flirt with me, Harrington," He says with a hint of playfulness, surprised at where the confidence is coming from. Glancing from the window back to the overhead mirror, he smirks to himself as Steve gapes, blinking, unable to respond. The tips of his ears are red and Eddie laughs, "Damn Steve, are you really that easy to make speechless?" He teases. He could really use a cigarette about now,

"N- don't..." He begins to say, though stops himself, "I just- I was being nice," He says, and Eddie hums,

"Nice," He echoes,

"Yeah- friendly you know? I wasn't flirting," He begins speaking quickly; in contrast, Eddie nods slowly,

"Damn..." He sighs, "That's a shame, big boy," Eddie smirks to himself, "Cause I was," He pats the back of Steve's seat, turning his head to glance out of the window and sliding further down in the car so no one can see him. He doesn't recognise this part of town- the houses are large and nice, "Where-"

"My house!" Steve says too loud, causing everyone in the car to jolt awake. Eddie hisses as Max's hand flies to grab his, nails digging into the side of his wrist,

"Dude- what the hell?" Dustin grumbles, glaring at Steve as he pulls up in front of a two-story house with an outdoor, inground pool. There are no other cars but Steve's,

"Get out- we're here," He announces to them all, getting out first and turning up at Eddie's door. They lock eyes again, Eddie sending him a wink before Steve opens the door with a glance around for anyone who could possibly see the criminal. The others get out with their own grumbles and annoyances of being startled awake, and once they're all inside, they fall quiet again, "My parents aren't home- they're out in Oregon for my cousin's Wedding," Steve's rambling as he removes his muddy shoes and walks into the landing of the spacious home. Glancing over his shoulder, he surveys the stunned expressions, "What?" Eddie's the first to look at him,

"You could have told us you live in a mansion, Harrington," He says in awe,

"It's not a mansion-" He quickly tries to say,

"No, Eddie's right, this is basically like, a castle, Steve," Dustin says, "You could have at least told me you're a millionare-" he rants,

"I'm not a-" Steve can barely get a word in as Henderson keeps ranting,

"I can't believe you only invite me to your house when we're in danger," He says with friendly annoyance as Steve rolls his eyes,

"Max, are you h-"

"I just want to go to sleep," She mutters under her breath. Her gaze is downcast, and she refuses to let go of her hold on Lucas' arm,

"Okay- up- here let me show you," Steve takes two steps at a time as he walks up the stairs. Max and Lucas are slower when they follow him- she's clearly exhausted. Before she gets too far, Eddie feels compelled to speak,

"Red," He says, head reaching the step she's just got on to. He reaches a hand to touch the stair, rings clicking against the hardwood, "You're safe here," He assures her, offering a smile. She gives him a brief one, nodding as Lucas continues helping her up. Eddie nods to himself, letting them continue up as he leans against the wall,

"Okay, Eddie," Dustin's voice comes from next to him. Its suddenness startles the metalhead,

"Jesus, man, could you not!?" He hisses at Dustin, moving a hand to rub his forehead, messing up his bangs,

"Sorry, sorry," Dustin quickly says, lifting his hands up in self-defence, "But when were you going to tell me you knew Max?" He demands in a similar hushed tone,

"She's my neighbour," He frowns, shrugging, "I guess I saw her a few times and said a few things here and there? I don't know- it never came up," He huffs,

"What do you mean it never came up?" Henderson frowns back,

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want me to just randomly bring up that I know Mayfield, we're best buddies now that she's moved into Forest Hills?" Eddie says sarcastically,

"Just..." Dustin sighs, "We're really lucky you were there with us," His tone is soft now, and he reaches out to pat Eddie's arm in a strangely... Comforting way, "Without you she'd-"

"Yeah," Eddie cuts him off quickly, not wanting to think about that too much, "No use dwelling on the past, right?" He tells the younger boy, reaching out to ruffle the top of his head. He smiles slightly when Dustin grins, fixing his messed up 'Thinking Cap'. Eddie was always fond of the Henderson kid, far more than Wheeler. He could really see his passion during campaigns, something that reminded him of himself. And Eddie wasn't one to dull a flickering candle in a stifling wet cave. No, he was the one with the canister of gasoline and sticks of dynamite, ready to start a fire or blow something up. And though he hated picking favourites amongst his lost sheep, Dustin would always have a place up there,

"Dustin?" Steve calls from the stairs, "You good to take the couch?" He asks walking down the stairs and meeting the two boys still there, "We're working out shifts for rewinding Max's tape and checking in on her. Lucas said he'd be fine doing it all night by himself, but you know. Can't be too sure," He tells him,

"Sure- I can take the couch," And Steve nods, before glancing at Eddie,

"And uh-"

"I can sleep on the floor," Eddie quickly says, causing Steve to gape at him in confusion, "Yeah just like... Get me a blanket and a pillow or something and I'll be a-okay," He shrugs nonchalantly, smiling at Steve, who for some reason, finds the skin of his cheeks and chest growing warmer,

"I- uh, no, you won't need to, Eddie," He says, blinking fast as he realises he's not making sense, "I mean the... The living room windows! Anyone could see you from them and you're-" Steve gestures towards Eddie, "-You are still a wanted man," He says, raising his brows. As if Eddie could forget. He was half expecting a parade of pitchforks and fire as soon as he left the safety of the car in the graveyard, "You uh... I have beer in the fridge," Steve tells him, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek at the way Eddie's face lights up,

"Now you really know the way into a man's heart, Harrington," Eddie grins, patting his shoulder as he eagerly turns and pushes open the door. Steve watches as he bounds to the fridge, gasping as he opens it and looking up and down at the plates of leftovers, vegetables and a full, unopened pack of beer inside. He bites the inside of his cheek again to stop smiling at his child-like reaction, then turns to Dustin. He's staring at him with a confused look,

"Should he be drinking right now?" He says as Steve walks and opens the bedroom door, turning the light on for him and shutting the curtains,

"If..." Steve shrugs, "If he wants to drink right now then who are we to stop him?" He says, before moving to get a blanket and a pillow for the kid. For some reason, his mind fixates on those words. 'You know the way into a mans heart'. It was meant as a playful comment, but that smirk... And Steve's own heart racing and warm smile threatening to appear on his lips all because of Eddie it... Was so confusing, "Hey- Dustin," Steve hisses,

"There's no one else in the room, Steve," The younger kid reminds him, raising his brows as Steve returns to him and hands over the pillow,

"Right uh... So... Eddie," Steve doesn't know how he should ask this. Robin told him a half truth, then the real truth; both times had been unprovoked. She had told him she was queer on her own accord, giving him a reason for her disinterest in him. And he accepted her and loved her like a best friend ever since. He didn't know Eddie enough to declare him a 'best friend'.

He had heard of Eddie the Freak. Eddie the Metalhead. Eddie the 'I play DnD with him because you won't'. Eddie the 'I heard he sells drugs for a good price- better than Rick'. Eddie the 'guy who flunked his Senior year twice'. Trailer trash, weirdo, creep...

Steve didn't think those applied to him anymore. Weirdo, maybe, yeah. Sure he talked a lot- back in the car on the way to the cemetery, he and Dustin tried to explain Lord of the Rings to him when he made a joke about Eddie having a lot of rings. He didn't miss the sigh of disappointment from Dustin or the bark of startling laughter when he confessed he thought the books was called 'Lots of Rings' at first. But there was something endearing about him. The way his face lit up when he got excited; the more animated he got as he explained what Hobbits and a Middle Earth were. There was something about him that had Steve speechless and captivated,

"What about him?" Dustin asks, "Oh my god- please don't start battling for my affection like divorced parents-" He shuts his eyes and heaves a sigh, "-Any other day, I'd be flattered, but right now, I-"

"No, no," Steve says quickly, "No, it's... Do you know if he's...?" Steve shakes his head, spreading his arms. He doesn't know how to say it. Maybe he doesn't want to say it. Ask it, "He's very-" He can't say the words. Flirty, open. Does that mean-

"Yeah, he's like that with everyone," Dustin rolls his eyes, "It's pretty funny- he does it because he 'likes watching people squirm'," He quotes, before snatching the blanket from Steve's hands and draping it over his shoulders, "He just wants a reaction out of you. Don't be too worried about it- unless..." Dustin narrows his eyes, "Oh my god, you do feel threatened by him?" Dustin looks amused,

"Wh- No, I don't!" Steve tries to defend quickly,

"But you are, Steve! Oh, this is great," At least Henderson thinks this is funny,

"It's not- go to sleep, you little shit, and get as much as you can. Lucas is gonna wake you up when he gets too tired to stay up," He's back to ordering his children around, hands moving to his hips considering they're empty now, "Goodnight," He says, a firmness to his voice as he turns the light in the room off so he can't see Dustin smirking to himself as he removes his hat and sets it down on the coffee table,

"Yeah, love you too, Mom!" Dustin calls after him, causing Steve to roll his eyes and bite his tongue as he closes the living room door. He lets out a sigh, eyes darting over his hand still lingering on the door handle,

"Mom?" The amused voice asked from seemingly nowhere, sending an already stressed Steve into overdrive,

"Jesus fucking..." He manages through heavy breaths, setting a hand on his chest to calm his pounding heart at the sight of Eddie in his kitchen. At his reaction, Eddie laughs loudly, slapping a hand over his mouth to not wake anyone already sleeping as he smirks,

"I didn't know you scared so easily too, Harrington!" He removes his hand so Steve can see him smiling as he brings the beer can up to his lips and takes a long sip, "Here," He gestures with it towards Steve as he enters the kitchen, "Oh I also found your Cheez-Itz..." Eddie shakes the red box. Steve had bought those a few days ago because Robin liked them, even though he himself didn't. He kept it around in case she wanted to come over after work. The box sounded almost empty by now, "Is that okay?" He sounds genuinely worried, casting Steve a sceptical glance,

Once again, Steve finds himself short for words. For former 'King of Hawkins High', speaking wasn't an issue. He could speak about anything, with anyone, for as long as he needed. So why was he getting so tongue-tied around Munson?

"It's fine... Yeah," He carefully took the can from him, nodding as Eddie smiled again, digging a hand into the box and attempting to fish out the crumbs. Steve noticed how if he focused on something, Eddie would stick his tongue out to the side. For some reason, his heart raced a little faster at the sight, and he had to grip the cool beer can a little tighter so his hands wouldn't shake. Before he could think too hard, he lifted the can to his lips and took a sip. Eddie hadn't bothered to get him a new one- usually, he wouldn't care or notice... So why did he care so much now? Their lips had touched indirectly,

"Cool," Eddie mumbles over a mouthful. He shook the box again, frowning as he tilted it to look inside, "Cause it's empty now," He tells Steve, setting the box on the counter and wincing slightly as it falls over,

"Yeah, I can see," Steve says, glancing at the beer can and shaking it a little. There was still a fair amount of liquid left, but Eddie made no move to take it back. With a slight frown, Steve glanced back at him, "Hey, when was the last time you ate anything that wasn't... Snacks?" He asks. Eddie blinks at him, taken aback by the question. Was Steve Harrington- the guy he'd, upon first meeting, shoved against a wall and pressed a broken beer bottle to his neck- seriously worried about him? To mask his running thoughts, he simply snorted,

"I get why Henderson calls you mom now," He says with a smile,

"Oh my god," Steve hisses, setting the unfinished can on the kitchen island and turning around, grabbing a cutting board and a freshly opened loaf of bread,

"Y'Gonna make me a PB and J with the crusts cut off too, Stevie?" Eddie has the discarded can in his hands and he's casually sipping on it, walking over to lean against Steve's fridge and watch as he makes a sandwich, focusing on his hands and his long slender fingers as he grabs the loaf of bread and cuts two slices. His gaze travels upwards, to the grey jacket Steve still hasn't taken off, to the freckles dotting his cheeks. His lips, his hair. He was close now and he could smell it. That alone made him smile and feel so much safer than he had been in the week he was formally exiled from society,

"Here," Steve says, with a similar affliction to an annoyed mother putting up with a rambunctious child. There's a plate that's slid over to Eddie, making him set the almost finished beer can down,

"Holy shit, I was kidding!" Though he's smiling wide again and grabbing the crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwich, eagerly taking a bite and smearing the grape preserves over his cheeks. Steve's instincts tell him to look away or get him something to clean his face with, but he hasn't seen Eddie smile like this and a part of him wants to take it in,

"It's what I had on hand, nothing... Fancy," Steve shrugs, "You want another?"

"Please," Eddie pleads, muffled by the mouthful of bread and peanut butter even though he hasn't even started on the second slice. He doesn't miss the twinkle in his eye, or the way Steve's gaze lingers on him as he licks any stickiness from his fingers, smirking in a sly way, "You always stare at your house guests this much Harrington?"

"No," He says it too quickly. Jesus Christ, Steve had made so many girls nervous in his life he thought he knew what that was like. Now the shoe was truly on the other foot, he had no clue what to do with himself, "No..." He said slower now, spreading the peanut butter on the bread a little slower, more aware of what he was doing,

"Damn," Eddie hisses beside him, "Guess I'm special," Steve laughs a little at that, shaking his head as he grabs the other knife and spread the jelly on the bread, "What? I must have charmed you somehow, considering you and your hair haven't run to the police to report me," Eddie says. He's shifted now- Steve can see him in his peripheral vision when he straightens, back pressed against the refrigerator and focused on the stationary ceiling fan, head tilted upwards at a slight angle as he chews thoughtfully, "Why haven't you?" Eddie's large brown eyes meet Steve's with a curious look, a frown set on his lips. There's still a smear of preserves on his cheek, "I mean, what's in this for you?" He shrugs, "For all you know, 'King Steve', I'm a wanted man," He says with bitterness in his tone,

"But you aren't a murderer," Steve says, pressing the two slices together and grabbing the larger knife, focusing on his hands and cutting the sandwich's crust, "Besides," He sighs. He drops his voice, just in case Henderson's listening in from the living room, "You're Dustin's friend- he doesn't just make friends with assholes," He says,

"Way to boost your own ego, Harrington," There's the amusement back in his voice, "So this is all for Dustin, huh?" He asks. When Steve looks at him, he raises his brows, "After this... Miraculously blows over, we go back to hating each other?" It feels like an ice spike suddenly drives through Steve's heart, and it's so sudden and confusing, that he feels like he might die,

"What?" He can't help but choke out, deeply concerned. Was this... Was he being led on? Messed with on purpose? When he glances up at Eddie's face, he can see the slight fear and hurt on his face, even though he rolls his eyes and sets the empty plate down,

"Fighting for the kid's undying affection and all that," Eddie shrugs, "Aren't we competition?" He doesn't sound very sure of those words, and Steve also picks up that he's not looking at his eyes anymore. In fact, he's looking down to avoid all eye contact altogether,

"Well I don't think of it like that at all," Steve admits, cutting the final crust from the sandwich and slicing it into two triangles. Eddie is quiet, though he lifts his head again. Steve turns to him with the sandwich on the same plate, pressing it into his hands. Eddie takes it but makes no moves to eat, "C'mon, you're hungry," Steve taps the plate with his finger, before glancing at the eight crust pieces left behind on the cutting board and taking a bite of one,

"If we're not competition..." Eddie says after a few moments of silence, gaining Steve's attention again, "Then... What are we?"

In that moment, Steve recalls all the conversations he's had with all the people he's dated in High school. The dreaded 'lets make it official', 'are we just dating, hanging out, or are we boyfriend and girlfriend?' and... 'I love you'.

The more time he spent alone, the idea that maybe he was one of those people who was never supposed to experience love began to settle in his heart. Perhaps he was never destined to hear those words said in pure honesty and with the utmost affection a human being is capable of.

But when he looked at Eddie now, watching him expectantly with those round and innocent brown doe eyes, frowning so gently, he felt that familiar swell of adoration blossom in his heart. Even when his eyes flicked over the smear of grape jelly on his cheek, He realised if he was going to love anyone; if there was anyone he wanted to tell 'I love you' and be told 'I love you too', it'd be Eddie. And though the thought terrified him, it filled him with an excitement for what could be,

"Co-parents?" Perhaps it was too forward. He only said it because of the rush of adrenaline coursing through his body at the sudden realisation of the depth of his feelings. He never expected it'd make Eddie snort and laugh loudly, a beautiful sound that caused Steve to let out the smallest chuckle, barely a breath escaping his slightly parted lips,

"Co-parents," Eddie repeated with a grin, thankfully, "Cool- I'll take that over suspect number one any day," he tells him with a pleasant smile. Eddie quickly realises said smile is beginning to hurt his cheeks, though he oddly doesn't want the pain to go. He doesn't remember being happy like this before and he wants it to last. He finally takes a bite of the second sandwich while Steve eats the discarded crust in peaceful silence. He'd call it a ceasefire though there was no war between them to begin with, apparently. Maybe he judged Steve wrong- did the exact thing everyone's been doing to him all his life. Staring at his perfect hair and expensive clothes and thinking he'd want nothing to do with a rat freak like Munson. Yet here he was, eating the unwanted crusts of his PB and J. Steve could see Eddie was terrified back in that boathouse- he wouldn't hold a grudge against a man fearing for his life, "So because you're the mom, am I the dad?" Eddie asks with a smile once he swallows another bite. Steve laughs lightly, though the tips of his ears burn pink.

There were many things Eddie Munson had been called over the years. There were many things he expected Steve Harrington to call him. 'Co-parent' was nowhere on that list, but he'd take it over 'murderer' any day.

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mai-sans-senpai · 4 years ago

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unconventional hobbies that class 1-a has

midoriya - calligraphy (but he’s just starting so he’s only ok at it and it calms him down)

todoroki - mini ice sculpting (he likes to make really small sculptures to put in his friends’ drinks) (it makes others happy so it makes him happy too)

bakugou - he likes to put dye on his hands to make colored fireworks (it’s actually canon that bakugou likes to read romance manga so that too)

kirishima - yoga (it helps him stretch because his quirk makes him a lil stiff)

ururaka - pretends she’s a jedi and float stuff pretending she has the power of the force (😆 that’s so cute)

iida - writing in his diary log (it’s a bookend to his day and very relaxing)

yaomomo - making small metal flower crowns (she uses her quirk to make metal wire and folds it to make the crowns) (it’s a nice birthday gift so very handy 😄👍🏾)

jirou - making music from classmate’s sounds (she collects different sounds from everyone in class amd creates a song or two)

hagakure - she likes to try to put makeup on herself or put on nail polish (a fun little challenge)

aoyama - he likes to read wikihows [the little illustrations are cute to him (me too🥰)]

kaminari - give him a carpet and a person and he will have SO much fun with static electricity (usually deku or kirishima is the victim)

sero - i hc him being able to make specialty tapes when he focuses so he makes cute little tape rolls for his classmates and anyone who wants some at UA (maybe extra special for Y/N😉)

mina - she likes to melt things with her quirk (it’s fun and harmless unless yk she uses a person or an animal 😬)

tokoyami - he likes to play w his sword (no! get your mind out of the gutters readers!) he plays swords w dark shadow and they just have a nice time goofing off

sato - ofc he bakes but i feel like he would try to do those mini baking videos you see on insta and he has a following on youtube of about 100k (he’s very proud of this but won’t openly brag bc he’s a sweetheart)

koda - he likes to brush and play with his rabbit (he also puts little ties or hats on them ☺️)

tsu - she likes collecting frog-themed things (she currently has 7 frog bucket hats 😁)

ojiro - since he kinda looks like luke skywalker, he likes to hang out w ururaka and play jedi

shoji - he likes to crochet (and he can do it easily with all his hands to hold things in place)

mineta - [ok ik everyone hates mineta and everything but i like him a lil bit bc he’s comedic relief most times. that still does NOT excuse his actions or gross comments but i do believe he deserves a hc in people’s hc lists of class 1-a characters bc he is in 1-a and even though he’s a creep, he works hard and studies to stay in the class (he got a good score in the final exams u guys)] anyway. he likes to do puzzles or even sometimes make his own and do them together w classmates.

hey guys! thx for reading and pls don’t be shy and request something. i’m really bored and kinda cooped up in my room. the fics will probably inconsistent w the speed of them coming out bc my mom just had my little baby sister and i’m helping w her. but yea that’s it for now something might come next week!🍇🍎

#bnha #mha x black reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #deku x reader #deku #bakugou katsuki #mha tokoyami #mha headcanons #mha #hanta sero imagine #sero hanta #denki kaminari #my hero academia #my hero x reader #anime hcs #bnha hcs

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spacebunnywrites · 5 years ago

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Fenk8- Denki Kaminari x Male Reader

After hours of having to rewrite this piece, another half hour of tumblr simply not co-operating, and a few minutes of needing to convince myself that my piece wasn’t trash... I present to you my submission to the BNHA Server Collab. Our prompt was plain and simple, Pen Pals.

Pairing: Kaminari Denki/ Male Reader

Rating: E for Explicit. And C for Crackhead Energy

Kinks: Cyber Sex, Semi-Anonymous Sex, Penpal Sex, Dom!Denki, Daddy Kink, Premature Ejaculation, Cum Eating Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Flexibility, Dumbasses in love

Word Count: 2930

QUICK NOTE BECAUSE I AM A DUMBASS- Paladin is our boy Icyhot... dumbass needed a real Hero name and in a fic I enjoy that is the one he chose. And Flashpoint is our favourite boy Touya Todoroki AKA Dabi. I made him a damn hero because baby deserves it.

His username had been Fenk8, of which you weren't certain why. The penpal website was known for people seeking out more adult interactions, but you hadn't been looking for that. Not at first, really. Charming messages such as, "Hey sweet thing" and "If we were the alphabet I'd put U and I together" changed that slightly. The message that made you laugh the most had been the U and I joke. Corny pickup lines were the way into your heart. Of course you had to respond with your own corny pickup line, "Did you just shock me, or was it your electric personality?" Of course he freaked out a little at that, which you didn't understand. Fenk8 got a little wiggy when anything mentioning electric personalities was brought up. So you tried to avoid it. But you couldn’t help that he sparked your interest.

>>Hey sweetness. Birthday cake can be any flavour. But birthday cake is a flavour

>>What is up, hot stuff? The opposite of waterfall is firefly.

>>My sugarcube, the oldest person alive was born with an entirely different set of humans around.

>>Technichally… if we made everything legal the crime rate would be zero. I'M JUST SAYING!

>>Woah, sunshine… if we can't see air… can fish see water?

>>Orange is the only colour you can taste. I'm just saying.

Every conversation started with something random. Something that had you scratching your head, or made your eyes go wide because holy fuck he wasn't wrong. It was chaotic, but you loved it. He also tried out different pet names most of the time. Your favourite was Sugarcube. It was cute and different. You loved talking with him, it was like talking to your best friend. Only you didn't know your best friend's name, or what he looked like. Or what he did for a living. But Fenk8 was your best friend, nonetheless. The friend that had the nerve to ask you who put the alphabet in alphabetical order. But still your best friend. Days of talking turned into weeks. Weeks into months. The two of you had yet to share photos of yourselves yet, and that was fine. He sent you pictures of dogs he saw on walks, of beautiful flowers, and occasionally the most beautiful sunrises. He worked strange hours, often all over Tokyo and surrounding cities. But it just meant you never got the same scenery twice. Once he had been in the same area as you, sent photos of the bakery you worked at. He didn’t know you worked there, just sent a picture of a little pastry you had made. Said it reminded him of you. That same day Chargebolt had come in and bought one of your pastries. The two of you were excited for different reasons that day. Him because he found out that you made pastries, you because your favourite hero had bought something you made and even came up after and said it was delicious. You hadn't told him about that, you did tell him that you had a small obsession with the electric pro hero. Your potential friend(?) didn't need to know that your favourite sleepwear was an oversized t-shirt from the very first line of Chargebolt merch.

>>Hey sweetheart! Saw the cutest little dog today, thought you would love him as much as I did. His name was Chowchan!

>>How was your day??? I hope you didn't work too hard! I've missed talkin' to ya. Sorry I've been so busy, sweetcheeks.

Attached to his messages was a picture of the most obnoxiously fluffy Chowchow curled into a ball at the feet of… holy fuck was that Pro-Hero Dauntless!? Fenk8 got that close to the Number One hero, got a picture of his dog, and it looked like they were having a casual conversation based on the flush covering Dauntless' cheeks and the adorable pikachu bag you knew belonged to Fenk8 sitting beside him. Just what did Fenk8 do for work that he was chummy with a pro!? Reporter? Maybe he was a PR agent? Or a personal assistant? The last two would make a lot of sense, given that he travelled a lot for work.

<<OH MY FUCKING GODS FENK8. YOU GOT SUCH A CUTE PICTURE OF CHOWCHAN!

<<you even got Dauntless out of his hero gear, sitting still… a god. You're a god.

After a few moments of silence, your phone dinged with another notification.

>>I guess Dauntless is your favourite pro then? Makes sense, he is pretty hot.

<<No? Chargebolt is my favourite. He's been to my bakery a few times, compliments my pastries. Sure, his quirk has a pretty big drawback… but over the years he has really gotten good at controlling his output. Did you see his most recent thwart of a bank robbery!? He got the emergency backups back up and running using his quirk! And when he let himself be the backup generator for the children's hospital last winter…

<<Sorry… rambling. I just… Chargebolt is the best. Some are born for greatness, others have to work for it. He works for it. He said my Lemon Puffs are his favourite, which is good because he inspired them. The popping candy in the dough represents static electricity! I can't believe that Chargebolt likes my sweets… sorry. I'm sure you don't want to talk about pros.

>>Honestly, reading you so passionate is amazing. I can't believe that someone would be so vocally passionate about a hero only in the top fifty. Ground Zero, Dauntless, Flashpoint, Paladin… even Uravity and Froppy. I hear so much about them. But never someone so excited about Chargebolt.

<<He is an amazing hero. I watched his first Sports Festival… all of his Sports Festivals really. I really love him as a hero. But ue never does press events, not like the top ten. And I work when he does patrols. So I've never interacted with him outside of work… but man what I wouldn't give to meet the man. I'm sure you have a favourite pro?

>>Honestly, I do. Red Riot is one of my favourites. Ever heard him sing Karaoke? I'll have to send you a video I have of it. Guy goes all out.

<<Red Riot is pretty cool. But Chargebolt will always be my favourite.

How had you gone off on a full rant about a pro hero? Especially to your internet friend. He was going to think you are such a weirdo now. But apparently he didn't, because he requested a faceless video call for that night. Something about needing to get off, and hoping you would help. Sure, he was a little more smooth than that, but all you cared about was actually getting to see part of Fenk8. You two had only done something similar once, and it had been through text alone. Now you got to attach a voice and a faceless body to Fenk8. You only hoped you still found him sexually attractive after this. What if he was too muscular, like Red Riot. Or covered in deep scarring like Flashpoint. Not that you didn't find them attractive, but with Chargebolt as the man in your fantasies anyone else would pale. He was your number one fantasy, could you really be blamed though? It didn't occur to you that Fenk8 could be a creepy old man, or a murderer or something. Surely the man who seemed chummy with Dauntless couldn't have even an evil bone in his body. Dauntless was too pure to be friends with someone who was genuinely bad.

So when the evening rolled around you found yourself in just an oversized fleece sweater and a pair of black boxer briefs. Your already straining erection begging to be touched as you looked over the thin yet very toned torso before you. Fenk8 was built just like you imagined Chargebolt would be. Lean and just toned enough to show he worked out. You noticed a faint glimmer in his nipples, holy fuck Fenk8 had them pierced! A tiny barbell in each dusky nipple, catching the light just right every time he moved. Below that was a navel piercing, man did he have a lot of piercings apparently. Because he had mentioned his tongue, and webbing in an earlier message you guys had shared.

"Like what you see, Sugarcube?" You could hear the smirk in his words. And the chuckle he made when you whimpered an affirmative was divine. "Why don't you take that sweater off, I had a long day at work and watching my Sugarcube stroke himself would really make my day." The man already stroking himself. A nice thick cock in his hand, nestled nicely beneath a cute nest of blond curls. Faintly you wondered if you would ever get to sit on it, positive that it would be a perfect stretch. Quick to comply you pulled the sweater over your head and let him see your chest in its entirety. A deep blush staining your chest, lower lip pulled between your teeth. Removing your underwear took a little more courage, your member was not as nice to look at as Fenk8's. You would call Fenk8's cock attractive. Thick, long, nicely curved. You would probably call yours cute. It was smaller than his, and looked smaller beneath your curls that were a little darker than the rest of your hair.

"That's a good boy. Now why don't you stroke yourself for Daddy. Let me hear you whine and whimper for my cock to stretch you out." You imagined a wicked smile on his face as he spoke. Eyes locked on the cock in his hands, mouth falling open when you finally noticed the glimmering bits of metal. A three piece bottom ladder, a two piece scrotum ladder, his lorem, a King’s Crown and an Albert. Eight piercings in his dick alone. Was there anywhere he didn't have pierced?!

"Y-yes, Daddy." Finally spoken as you wrapped a hand daintily around your length and began to softly stroke. A soft whimper ringing out before you could stop it. You had been pent up all day, ever since the message he sent asking for this call. Already your body threatened to betray you and make Fenk8 think you were some pathetic virgin. Which you weren't! And even if you were… it was no one's business.

"F-fuck!" You whined out and tensed as you came. Embarassed that you finished so quickly. But it wasn't entirely your fault. Fenk8 got you so worked up earlier. White ropes splattering your chest and stomach as you tried to hide your face from him while slowly slumping down.

"That was so hot baby. A few strokes and you're already cumming for Daddy. I'm so proud of you for wanting to make me happy. Want your reward, Sugarcube?" His voice was thickened, dripping like honey as he spoke to you. Opening your eyes you saw his hand lazily stroking over his length while the other reached toward the camera to adjust it. Raising it and- HOLY FUCK. Fenk8 is Chargebolt.

"Hey, Sugarcube. Heard you have a favourite pro." His charming smile on full display, the hand that had adjusted the camera shooting you a finger gun. Your eyes went wide and he licked over his lips. That tongue piercing you dreamed of, the one positioned a little off to the left, darting out and teasing you. The blond kept amber eyes locked on your frame while keeping the slight motion of him playing with his dick.

Never once did you think that Chargebolt would be a dominant. Or have a daddy kink. Nor did you think he would ever call you cumming in less than thirty seconds hot. Yet here he was with a straining erection, his plush tip glistening with pre, demanding you call him Daddy. Honestly, you had never been more aroused either. "Ch-char… holy fuck." Your own words stammered and stuck in your throat. The blond chuckling warmly as you seemed awestruck.

"Don't be like that, Sugarcube. Your mouth has better uses. Clean yourself up. Scoop all that cum into your cute little mouth. Show Daddy how badly you want his cum." Instructions you quickly followed. Two fingers sliding through the mess on your belly and bringing it to your waiting mouth. Lewdly moaning to make sure your dream man had the best show in the world. You wanted him to never end this, and if happily eating your own cum was what he wanted… it was what he would get. Your tongue pushing apart your fingers to clean between them before you repeated the action. Another scoop of your own cum dancing on your tongue. Fuck, were you already getting hard again? You supposed that was the best part of cumming so quickly anytime you got into it, you were always ready to go again real soon. Apparently he noticed you growing hard too, because your next instructions followed not long after.

"Sugar cube, you're going to cum directly into your own mouth this time. Lay on your shoulders, and bend those pretty legs over to rest at your head. Use the wall to help support you if you need to. I just wanna watch you get all cute and cum drunk on your own cum. Can you do that for Daddy?” His instructions weren’t hard in theory. But actually maneuvering your body to make it work was actually kind of hard to do. But after a few minutes, and comments from the man about how juicy your ass looked, you managed to get the position perfect. Your tight asshole on display as well, but Chargebolt wasn’t looking for that yet. He wanted you to eat your own cum. Tentatively you began to stroke your length again, at least you would last longer than thirty seconds this time. You hoped so at least. It would be pretty fucking embarassing if you only lasted less than a minute again. You might as well just end the call, move away from Japan, change your name., and start a new life as a Norwegian sheep farmer or something if that happened. Premature ejaculation wasn’t cute, no one would want you if they knew you only lasted a few seconds. Your soft moans filled the air, and you felt something bubbling in your stomach. Only a few strokes in and already you were getting closer by the second.

“Cum for me, Sugarcube. Open your mouth and cum on that pretty tongue of yours for Daddy. I love how quickly you cum. I can already hear how needy you are. Just like last time, you get so pink when you need to cum. And look at all your precum dripping onto your pretty lips. Perfect lips for wrapping around Daddy’s cock. Cum for Daddy so he can cum too.” Honeyed words low and sultry. If you opened your eyes you would see his hand flying furiously over his length. The blond trying to cum at the same time you did. But he wouldn't get there before you did, already you were spilling down into your waiting mouth. Groaning at the slightly sweet taste blossoming over your tastebuds. Legs collapsing by your head, your body almost falling off the bed as you tried to right yourself again.

It was amazing the sight you saw. The blond man, basically a twink in his own right, completely debauched. Chest covered in his own spunk, a dazed look on his face, both thumbs sticking up as he blinked a few times as his only response to you asking if he was alright. Did he always overcharge when he came? Was this normal for him? Part of you wanted to try and contact someone to check on him, but the better part of you knew to just give him a few minutes to recover. Grabbing a tissue from your bedside table and cleaning your chest off slowly, keeping an eye on the man filling your laptop screen. Making sure he didn’t like, die or something. Could you die from cumming to hard? Was it possible for his quirk to completely fry his brain? But then you heard him say something other than whey. At least he wasn’t brain dead. That was good.

“Denki. S’my name. Use it… Kaminari Denki.” Words slightly slurred, but clearly understandable. He was giving you open permission to not only use his name… But his given name. Holy fuck. Of course you whispered back your own name. Letting him know he was free to use yours. The two of you had a good connection, and continued this on for a while longer.

BONUS

“So… Denks. Why the ever loving fuck did you choose Fenk8?” It was Kirishima that asked that while you all lounged on your couch. The entire squad knew how you and Danki got together, apparently he never shut up about you in the beginning. Always mentioning the really cool baker guy that made the best sweets. It was actually Bakugou that stole Denki’s phone and made the request for the video call that night. Tired of hearing the electric blond complaining over how awesome you were.“Heh… Funny story. It was supposed to be Denk8, but I misspelt it while signing up and didn’t notice. Cn’t change your username, even if you’re a pro apparently. If you said it out loud it was supposed to sound like my name. The 8 was for my di-” Cut off by a pillow thrown at him by Hanta while Mina died laughing. You even couldn’t help the laughter as you heard what was shouted through the pillow over his mouth. “-CK PIERCINGS! BECAUSE I HAVE ONE FOR EACH INCH OF MY COCK!”

#denki #kaminari #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #chargebolt #reader #male reader #fanfic #kaminari x reader #denki x reader #chargebolt x reader #yaoi #listen this is a whole mess #bnha harem server #server collab #bnha server collab #dumbasses in love #denki is pretty chaotic

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stellarune · 4 years ago

Text

OK SO !! my friend, logan (soybean-foster) wrote keefex angst and asked me to post it here ! full credit to him, hes amazing, and this h u r ts !!

tw : the ability circlet, the council bein shit as always

Keefe’s terrified, you know.

He asked for this himself, he asked for an ability restrictor like Sophie’s, didn’t he?

So why does he feel so terrified of the circlet in Councillor Alina’s hands?

The councillors apparently had a separate Technopath, someone who wasn’t Dex but kept a mystery identity, because this is /not/ one of Dex’s projects - Keefe can tell simply by looking at it.

It’s a coppery shade, the circlet, and he knows that Dex hates and has a weird vendetta against copper. Something about he hates how it looks. He’ll use anything else he can get his hands on, no matter whether he’s been told to use the specific metal or not.

He /also/ wouldn’t embellish a project with pointless decorations, because “that takes time that we don’t have”.

And the final thing? Dex was obviously asked to stand in to make sure nothing went wrong, and although claiming it’s his circlet, he won’t look at it with anything other than a withering glare.Councillor Alina gives Keefe a sickeningly sweet smile. “This’ll be over in a minute, I assure you. Dexter?”

Dex gives her a careful glance before taking the restrictor, turning it around to examine it and perhaps giving another clue that it’s not his project.

He steps in front of where Keefe’s sitting on one of the Healing Center cots. “Now, Mr. Sencen, I’m sure you’re aware that our clasp can only be opened by our Technopath. It’s a unique design, preventing any of your... /friends/,” Alina sneers, “from opening it.”

“Yeah.”

He’s been determined to not give more than one word answers until he’s finally wearing the circlet, until he knows he can’t hurt anyone with his abilities anymore.

Alina smiles again. “Good. Dexter, if you would do the honours?”Dex swallows, turning back to face Keefe and letting his hands drop slightly. “I have no idea what this is going to do, Keefe,” he whispers. “I don’t know if it’s going to hurt you or if it’s going to permanently damage your abilities or anything like that, they wouldn’t let me see it before now.”

“I know.”

“Come on, you can still refuse! Say you don’t want it, this was your original choice and they can’t force you to do anythi-“

“Actually, we can. So you’d best hurry up, we haven’t got all day.”

Dex ignores her. “Keefe, you-“

“I’ll be okay. I promise,” he mumbles, the longest thing he’s said so far today.Dex sighs, gently brushing Keefe’s hair back from his forehead and pausing before he closes the circlet clasp.

“Are you sure? I can’t do anything else for you after this.”

“I’m sure.”

A metallic /clack/ echoes through the room, and Dex steps away, his hand moving to fiddle with the bracelet on his wrist - the one that Keefe had given him. Alina claps her hands, walking forwards. “Alright then! We simply need to press this lovely jewel here, and...”

As soon as her finger touches it, Keefe’s whole world seems to set itself alight with a brand new strength and kind of /pain/.As in, the world literally set itself alight - there’s fire, metaphorical fire, covering every inch of his body and making his eyes burn with tears that he tries to hold, tears that only succeed in trailing white-hot streaks down his cheeks.

And it’s simultaneously underwater - he can’t see or hear or feel or breathe or do /anything/ he should be able to do.

He bites his lip hard to stop himself crying or shouting out - he’ll stay here if it kills him, it’ll eventually go away.

He deserves this. He deserves the pain that soaks him, he deserves everything he feels because it’s his fault in the first place. He shouldn’t still be in the Lost Cities, but he is and he should’ve left - he did leave, and he can’t remember why he even came back.Why did he..?

Oh. Dex.

Dex should be here. Is Dex still there? Keefe can’t tell, he barely remembers if Dex was actually there in the first place, it might as easily have been a hallucination.

Someone touches his arm and the contact burns brighter. A scream rips from his throat before he can stop it and he lets go of the frozen way he’s been sitting, kicking out at whoever it was that’s standing in front of him.

He doesn’t know who, he only knows that they’re shouting something at him and he’s shouting out for Dex, because /where did he go/?! He should be here, he should’ve been somewhere in the room but he’s not answering.

Maybe he left.

Oh, God, maybe he /left/.Maybe he’s stopped denying it - maybe he’s seen that Keefe’s always been the one in the wrong and maybe he’s seen that Keefe is right, that he doesn’t deserve anyone’s love, much less someone like Dex’s.

He screams again as this time someone pins his knees down, sending fresh pain over his legs, and shouts something that he can’t hear. He’s not strong enough to push them off.

What’s his first instinct while in extreme pain, pinned by someone and unable to move?

He thinks they’ve come to kill him.

That would’ve been really welcome at that moment, if it weren’t for his firm belief that he deserved to suffer for as long as possible.

He reached to hit at them blindly and they catch both his wrists in one hand, twisting his arm in the process and only earning another agonised shriek.The static buzzing gets louder and the fire glows ever brighter and then...

There’s silence.

Well, relative silence. He stills as the world comes crashing back into focus, leaving him with only the sound of heavy breathing and otherwise darkness. He glances up, finding Dex standing next to him with lightly flushed cheeks, wide eyes, and...

A copper circlet in his hands.

“Oh, thank the stars,” Dex whispers, setting the restrictor aside and sinking down next to him on the mattress.

The world spins and Keefe’s lost the energy to keep himself upright anymore - his head falls against Dex’s shoulder, and he’s quickly pulled into an embrace that he physically can’t return.

“/Fuck/...” Dex whispers, running a hand through Keefe’s hair. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”Keefe chokes a sob and attempts to grab the back of Dex’s cape, his hands shaking and too weak to keep his grip.

“Hurt...” he mumbles. Dex’s arms tighten around him.

“I know. It’s stopped now, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Dex throws every Councillor in the room a glare, and oh, if looks could kill! “Why the /hell/ did you think that was a good idea?! You could have seriously hurt him - I can’t even count on two hands how many issues you have with that... /thing/!” he spits, pointing at the circlet glinting in the afternoon sunlight. “There’s so much faulty tech, it’s ridiculous! Whoever built that was not anything close to a Technopath.”

Alina folds her arms. “Dexter, as I’m sure you’re aware, you’ve interfered with a /Council/ matter.”

“I don’t care, to be honest.”Alina blinks as, presumably for effect, Dex leans over to snap the circlet and tear part of the wiring inside.

“I’ll make you another one, I’ll make you as many ability restrictors as you like - I’ll make ones that /don’t hurt people/.”

Alina scowls at him before turning sharply on her heel. “Fine! Zarina, would you tell our lovely Technopath that his invention was ruined, please?”

Zarina nods, following the Councillors as they file out of the room. Bronte and Oralie glance apologetically back to the boys before letting the door click shut.

Keefe takes a shuddering breath and Dex leans back to look at him.

“You’re okay, aren’t you? You’re not hurt?”

“No...”

He frowns. “No, you’re not okay, or no you’re not hurt?”

“No, I’m not hurt. I’m okay.”

“Good,” he says, kissing the crown of Keefe’s head. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t... I didn’t think it was going to do that, there wasn’t anything obvious in the tech that should’ve caused that amount of pain...”

“Maybe it’s my mom’s freaky experiments again. Maybe you can’t restrict my abilities.”

“If you want me to, I’ll find a way that won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Keefe sighs, relaxing slightly as Dex runs a hand down his back. “Yeah. Please.”

#logan #kotlc #fanfic #keefex #angst #keefex angst #yall read this this is amazing

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if-the-crown-fits-translate-it · 4 years ago

Text

Discord pt 84

[Date: 16/03, 8:40 PM GMT - 16/03, 9:06 PM GMT]

CONTENT WARNING: Mild body horror

[Direct continuation of pt 83]

kateza: “only thing i can think of is getting like

plant cutters?”

donti (e): “we can somehow simulate the exact opposite of what syd went through...?”

[kateza: “only thing i can think of is getting like]

donti (e): “potentially attached to brain”

[kateza: “plant cutters?”]

Renboo: “oh so weed killer is a no but plant cutters? yeah sure do that- /sarc”

[Little-K1ng: “alright how about damage mitigation? jack, you knew syd. you knew her through the..... uh... "process". do you have anything to share?”]

Jack the Observer: “Just. She had a headache. Bedridden. The warden said it was like red strings tying down her mind.”

kateza affectionate: “... right, right. sorry.

ignore me.,”

llyr: “you’re alright kate, it was worth suggesting. we’re just brainstorming for now”

Jack the Observer: “You could try wire cutters, actually. That’s not. A horrible idea.

I don’t know if it’s good.

But not like. That bad.”

Renboo: “how durible is gold anyway-”

[Jack the Observer: “Just. She had a headache. Bedridden. The warden said it was like red strings tying down her mind.”]

Little-K1ng: “speaking of bedridden i need to sit down or something, marcus, can you bring me 2 pills from the bottle on my desk ?”

donti (e): “good is an incredibly soft metal

and is usually impure to prevent bending”

kateza: “but with how fast it seemed syd's grew...

i don't know sorry sorry”

Little-K1ng: “i mean, syd had direct contact with crown outside of being a court member, right?

these boys kinda dont have that”

[kateza: “but with how fast it seemed syd's grew...]

Jack the Observer: “It was four days of headache at least before the trial

She was really ill”

donti (e): “... so we potentially have two days left?

dreaming: “we should try. cutting them off or something? it might delay it”

Void: “is it possible that crown needs to be around for it to grow and that's at least part of why you found him around your house?”

kateza: “might hurt him”

donti (e): “it might hurt max tho”

dreaming: “we could try and if it hurts we stop”

Maxwell: “please no”

[Void: “is it possible that crown needs to be around for it to grow and that's at least part of why you found him around your house?”]

donti (e): “point”

Jack the Observer: “Can he feel through the buds? Or would it be more like cutting hair/nails”

dreaming: “okay”

Little-K1ng: “oh yeah those footprints and handprint..... i heard about those

i still need to check those out now that its daylight, but i cant really do it like this”

donti (e): “can marcus do it?”

llyr: “it’ll likely just grow back, though. in order to get rid of weeds, you have to pull it out by the root, which in this situation might not be possible”

[Maxwell: “please no”]

Little-K1ng: “max, come sit on the couch with me ?”

[dreaming: “we should try. cutting them off or something? it might delay it”]

Renboo: “wasn't there a very brief mention of it hurting whenever someone so as touched whatever the thing is? just imagine how painful using wire or plant cutters would be- and with the possblility of it growing back too i dont think theres anyway to cut it without hurting max a lot”

[Little-K1ng: “speaking of bedridden i need to sit down or something, marcus, can you bring me 2 pills from the bottle on my desk ?”]

Marcus: “Of course! Sorry I was lost in thought”

[Little-K1ng: “max, come sit on the couch with me ?”]

Maxwell: “okay okay--”

kateza: “i don't think i can help with anything else here so i think i'm going to... go. /ic”

llyr: “ok, bye kate. i hope you have a good day :3″

kateza: “... i'll try. i just don't want to piss anyone else off”

dreaming: “okay that's logical won't do that then”

Little-K1ng: “dont worry, kate. we're not mad

at least im not, and you can keep that in mind”

kateza: “fetch was, marcus wasn't happy that i just said what was going on”

Little-K1ng: “in a way it works out”

kateza: “i just don't want it to happen again, y'know?”

Marcus: “I’m not mad

I just...

Max is under a lot of stress”

kateza: “i also remember when you smacked me down as Viscount so seeing it happen again kind of... i dunno”

Marcus: “All of whatever just happened wasn’t helping”

[kateza: “i also remember when you smacked me down as Viscount so seeing it happen again kind of... i dunno”]

Marcus: “I did what”

Jack the Observer: “Understandably so. This is a stressful situation.”

Renboo: “viscount what-”

donti (e): “it's definitely going to hurt him if unaddressed though”

kateza: “verbally smacked me down

not physically

although i was kind of being a little shit but it was because i just did not know what else to do”

Marcus: “I don’t... i did that?”

kateza: “frankly i kinda deserved it and anyone that saw it could probably corroborate that I deserved it”

[kateza: “verbally smacked me down]

Renboo: “okok i thought viscount like smacked the shit out of you or something-”

Maxwell: “You know....this...almost reminds me of when i was a kid, or well i guess younger....whenever I was sick or scared I would curl up on the couch with someone, even when I was anxious I would still do it.....I haven't done it in so long....”

Marcus: “Let me get you some blankets, Max. Ultimate comfort pile”

Jack the Observer: “Calm yourself”

Marcus: “Man, it would be really cool to just be able to create blankets when we need them”

Maxwell: “how....are we gonna get rid of em”

Renboo: “completely off topic but do you think we could all like group up or something and like- storm crown's mansion? like even if we only had a group of like 20 there's only abt 5 of them so they'd all have to fight 4 of us each like do you think that'd have any effect on anything like if we kidnapped crown or something do you think that we coud get him to tell us something”

Jack the Observer: “No

Barrier blocks.”

donti (e): “bad idea... remember the last time someone suggested it?”

Renboo: “no”

donti (e): “so many reasons no”

Jack the Observer: “so many reasons no.”

donti (e): “many many reasons”

Marcus: “...it wouldn’t be the best idea

I don’t know if you’ve noticed”

donti (e): “we don't even know the full extent of his power”

Grimm: “You would regret that immediately for multiple reasons”

Marcus: “But Crown has more powers than Ranboo does”

Renboo: “i completely forgot crown and ranboo have the same body nvm”

Maxwell: “fuck my heads hurting again”

kateza: “marcus i dunno if you wanted to see it but it was back when I honestly didn't know what else to do and viscount decided he'd had enough of me”

donti (e): “MAX u ok”

Marcus: “Okay turning the lights off”

[kateza: “marcus i dunno if you wanted to see it but it was back when I honestly didn't know what else to do and viscount decided he'd had enough of me”]

Marcus: “I don’t...I don’t remember”

Maxwell: “im fine just....hurts again is all”

kateza: “i won't send the link unless you give me explicit permission to, alright?”

Marcus: “What if I massage your head but steer clear of the buds? Do you think that might help? It’s kind of like growing pains right?”

[kateza: “i won't send the link unless you give me explicit permission to, alright?”]

Marcus: “I...don’t know if I want to”

kateza: “that's perfectly fine! your comfort is valued and I'll do my best to make sure that it stays that way”

Maxwell: “you could try if you wanted, i hope its just after pain and nothing new growing in...”

Marcus: “I don’t think they’d grow that fast, im sure it’ll be alright. We’ll figure this out

Okay, just let me know if it hurts too bad alright?”

Maxwell: “okay....

im....kind of tired...can i have a nap.....?”

Marcus: “Max, of course

You don’t need to ask to nap”

Maxwell: “just....wanted to be sure....thank you...”

Marcus: “Of course! Monas already asleep I’m sure she won’t mind if you use her as a pillow”

#on:discord #by:maxwell #by:marcus #if the crown fits

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secret-engima · 5 years ago

Note

AU idea, lobbing it at u. The Ring of the Lucii doesn't take souls, just magic accumulated over a lifetime, & a copy of memories at the end. Nyx Ulric is Somnus reincarnated, & nobody had any clue, until he put the Ring on his /right/ hand & /remembers/. He ignore this revelation for a moment while he takes care of Glauca. Then. He just sits down in the burning rubble of Insomnia & /shakes/. Luna asks what's wrong, & he numbly tells her /everything/ he knows. Cue Roadtrip to F over the Prophecy.

Oh no.

Oh noooooooooooooooooo.

Buckle up it’s time for a ramble and a NEW GLORIOUS AU.

Nyx has always known something was off about him. And not in an arrogant or “I’m destined” way but an uncomfortable, achy way that had followed him all his life. A way that made him reach for something that was never there, like a phantom limb when he was not missing any. A way that made him constantly look to his sides and be surprised-hurt-regretful when they were empty save for Libertus (and he loves Lib, he DOES, but there is something in him that keens still, like Libertus is welcome, but not the one he was expecting or meant to see).

As terrible as the Burning was, Nyx finds that the day he becomes a Kingsglaive was the best day of his life. Because when Regis gave him magic, when magic flowed into his soul and breathed like the air before the storm, Nyx felt as close to whole as he’d ever been in his life. He took to magic like he had been born to it, could warp higher, faster, farther then any other glaive, could summon fire with barely a thought and skate across ice that formed under his shoes, could dance with lightning like he was a coeurl born rather than man.

The glaives laugh and call him Hero.

Libertus looks at his friend and sometimes, when he’s drunk, thinks of him as Twice Born. Because Libertus has known Nyx all his life, has known that Nyx is wounded in his soul and Missing something and that being gifted magic did more to heal it than anything else. Even if it didn’t fix it completely.

Nyx meets Princess and something in his soul screams. He is mourning Crowe, mourning Libertus’s abandonment resigning, his bones ACHE in a way he can’t name and then he sees her, hears her voice and something in him wants to cry.

Aera Aera my friend my brother’s heart and soul and light I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I will never let it happen again I will never let you suffer just please FORGIVE ME

“Sorry,” he whispers past the glass in his throat, “I’m on duty.”

“Then surely there is no safer place for me then right here,” she retorts and Nyx feels a smile pull through the pain in his soul.

This Oracle is different from Aera.

Maybe this one will survive.

But then everything falls apart, and betrayal is like a knife in his back he deserves this he knows what this feels like now oh brother oh Aera please please and they are running, they are fighting and the king is dead and his magic is GONE-GONE-GONE and it hurts but he can’t focus on that right now.

And then.

Captain.

Traitor.

T R A I T O R.

And Nyx- Nyx is angry, Nyx is desperate. He promised to see Princess to safety another Oracle will not die because of him he will not allow it and so he feels no fear as he yanks the Ring out of her hands and slides it onto his finger.

The finger of his right hand.

The same finger Regis had worn it on.

He hadn’t meant to put it on that finger, but some old instinct had slid it there.

The world freezes. Turns dark and blue.

“Welcome back, Kinslayer and Kingkiller.” Say the voices, everywhere and nowhere, a hundred of them at least or more.

He stills, and not just from the pain of his injuries, “What-? Who-?”

“Long have we awaited the return of your soul to fulfill your promise.”

“Rise, Somnus Lucis Caelum from the dust of your forgotten era. All hail the return of the Founder King and Mystic.”

Nyx opens his mouth to say there’s been a misunderstanding, because he is HARDLY some ancient founder king but then the stone beneath him breaks and

f a l l s.

Life and death and memories and regret. There is a sword in his hand and blood drips from the blade as Princess-Aera-Princess-Oracle-Aera-AERA goes too still in his brother’s arms and the monster wearing his brother’s skin scrEAMS.

There is a garden and tears, gentle arms wrapping around his shoulders as soft blue eyes watch over him and red-violet hair mingles with his as a chin rests on his head and a voice murmurs, “It’s alright, little brother. It will be alright.”

There is a throne under his hands and back, a crown on his head that feels victorious for all of a moment before the world crumbles and the Astrals appear and say “What have you done, foolish mortal-.”

There is a brother who loves him always and helps him find his feet.

There is a monster lying chained in the deep.

They are the same thing.

It is all Somnus’s fault.

It’s all Somnus’s fault.

He has to fix this somehow.

It’s all

his

fault.

No.

No, he refuses.

I am Nyx Ulric, he thinks fiercely as he claws his way to the surface of the memories, I am Nyx Ulric, not a kinslayer or traitor and i will not drown beneath these sins.

Nyx snaps awake and magic springs from his fingers as easily as breathing. The shield expands, blocking the blade of the traitor before a flick of his wrist makes lightning blast him away. Nyx stands and rolls his shoulders, feeling injuries knit back together and the bullet slide free of the wound. In another life, Nyx would have smiled and laughed in the face of death.

In another life, Nyx would not be firmly shoving memories of Somnus behind him as he passes the Ring back to Luna and grimly tells Libertus to get Princess out of here.

They hesitate, he snaps at them, the power of a king in his voice, and Libertus looks scared as they run on his order. Nyx watches them go, a shield flaring to life without looking as the traitor attacks again. Nyx turns very slowly.

Inside his armor, Glauca has never felt so exposed as when Nyx Ulric stares him down.

“Traitor,” Nyx hisses coldly, and there is something primal under his words, something ancient and angry, “You will pay for the blood of my kin on your hands.”

They fight.

It is not much of a contest.

Somnus may not have been the better fighter of the two brothers, but he had trained all his life with Gilgamesh.

Compared to his old Shield, Glauca is nothing.

Nyx stares silently over the rubble of his city as the sun rises and feels the weight of a crown that is no longer his to wear. He breathes the taste of ash and blood and daemons as the Old Wall kneel to him and then fade into dormancy, and feels … old. Whole for the first time in this life.

He almost wishes he could go back to being incomplete.

He narrows his eyes as he thinks of the Chancellor of Niflheim that he had glimpsed, of the stories of the Blademaster he has heard since coming to Insomnia.

He thinks of Princess and the great-great grandchild Somnus’s actions doomed to death.

Nyx Ulric, He Who Walks Twice, Founder and Traitor King, clenches his fists tight around his kukri, “I’m coming brother,” he whispers to the sunrise, “I will end what I have begun.” He would end the misery and pain he put his brother through if he had to crack open fate with his bare, bloodied hands.

“Just wait a little longer.”

Then he turns and limps his way out of the city. He has an Oracle to talk to and a great grandchild to save.

(And later, on a Haven, Luna listens in awe and horror at Nyx’s story, at the age in the glaive’s eyes as he effortlessly calls forth the royal armiger. She watches in tense silence as Gentiana looks upon Nyx and calls him “Mystic”, as Nyx looks at Gentiana and cooly asks if she will stand between him and his brother. Gentiana hesitates. Then backs down.

Together, the Glaive Who Was Once King and the Last Oracle set out to destroy the prophecy in its entirety and free the brother he once betrayed and long wronged.

Along the way they stop at the Tempering Grounds, and Gilgamesh discovers that metal CAN cry as he beholds his king a second time. He bends the knee without hesitation, and when Nyx says for him to Come, Gilgamesh rises and abandons his prison without hesitation.

Along the way, Nyx Who Was Somnus But Is No Longer finds that his heart is as willful as ever, and that he cannot help but give it away to Lunafreya, betrothed to Noctis by faulty treaty or no.

And maybe, just maybe along the way, before the end of their journey and the final reunion of brothers, Luna finds herself giving her heart right back.)

#SE asks #anon asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #NEW AU #Nyx as Somnus au #gonna call it #ummmmm #Sun Dies (Night Rise) verse

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

Text

Guilty As Charged

One Shot for @thatfanficstuff ‘s Band New U challenge.

My Prompt was “Lawyer AU”

Pairing- Bucky Barnes X (sort of…) Reader Insert. This is my first Reader Insert so hopefully it works out as well as my OFC seems to have done.

Warnings- Bad language words. **my knowledge on US law is limited so humour me**

“We find the defendant not guilty”

You let out a sigh and rub at your temple. Looking over at your colleague, Sam, you shake your head in utter disbelief.

“Y/N this wasn’t your fault…” he begins in a low voice but you simply sigh again and shrug.

“I was sure they’d see through his lies” you glance over to your right where the defence team, headed up by James Buchanan Barnes of Barnes & Rogers Law are shaking hands. Barnes’ face is arranged in the usual smug look that you want to slap right off it. His partner, Steve glances over at you and gives you a genuine, sympathetic smile. He is always the most courteous out of the two.

“He fucking did it Y/N” Sam’s voice is almost a growl “I know he did.”

“Well in the eyes of the law he didn’t…” you state, standing up “Come on, let’s get out of here before he starts…”

You hastily shuffle your papers back into their respective files and pack your briefcase up. Picking up your jacket, you shrug it on, smooth down your pencil skirt and make to leave the courtroom before Barnes can pipe up with his usual smart ass quips. But you’re not quite fast enough. “Commiserations Miss Y/LN, can’t win ‘em all…” the familiar Brooklyn drawl hits your ears “mind you, winning some would be a start.” “Buck…” Steve sighs “c'mon pal…”

You grit your teeth. You know you shouldn’t rise to it, but you just can’t help it. The man is an utter jack ass. Spinning to face him you shoot him your best contemptuous glare, the one you always reserve for those people you really cannot stand, and look at him like he is something you’ve just trodden in.

“You know Barnes, there is such a thing as being gracious in victory as well as defeat…” “Defeat” he asked, looking at Steve with a puzzled expression on his face “no, not sure what that is…” “Eat shit” you mumble before turning to Sam who is stood behind you, watching the exchange. You nod to him and the two of you continue up the aisle towards the exit. The victim’s family are congregated outside and all at once the start barraging you with questions.

“How did that happen?”

“What do they mean the confession was under duress…?”

“You said it was a cert he would go down…”

“What about a private prosecution…”

You sigh and turn to look at them, you’re exhausted. “I’m sorry… ” you shake your head “that new evidence that his attorney submitted… it was just threw too much of a doubt into the juries mind…” you hold your hand up to gently silence them “if you’re serious about a private prosecution then I can meet you next week to discuss…” You and Sam head back to your office, dump the files and then decide there’s only one thing for it. Alcohol and lots of it.

“Hey Y/N, hey Sam.” Clint, the bar tender greets you “I hear it wasn’t a great day in court for you…” You look up and he is pointing to the TV behind the bar. It’s on a news channel showing a report from outside the court earlier that afternoon which isn’t surprising. The case had thrown up huge public interest ever since the body of the teenage girl has been found in the alleyway in Queens. The defendant confessed but new evidence had been submitted that afternoon featuring a recording that the defence had gotten their hands on as proof the confession was taken under duress. Being totally honest, you have to admit that it didn’t sound great, the officer did seem to be leaning heavily on the defendant but the other evidence was, no, IS overwhelming. But all it needed was that little shred of doubt and the jury couldn’t convict. And now thanks to Barnes and Rogers, specifically Barnes, in your mind a dangerous killer is walking free. As you stare at the screen you see Barnes with the defendant, all smiles and Steve at his side. Barnes greets the press with a raised hand. “Clint turn it over man…” Sam almost pleads and Clint shouts you both a sympathetic look before he points the remote at the TV and flicks it over to a mundane afternoon game show. You order 2 beers, and then settle at the bar on one of the tall chairs, crossing your bare, heeled legs as you and Sam begin to dissect the case. You can’t help it, you always do this, analyse where you went wrong or right. The pair of you get that enthralled in your discussions, that before you know it’s an hour later and you’re 4 beers deep… and Sam is getting a phone call from his wife, Natasha. “I gotta go boss…” he says apologetically “it’s the kids dance recital at 7 and if I miss this one Nat’s gonna hang me out to dry!.” You wave his explanation off “It’s fine, go Sam. Oh, and take the morning tomorrow…that case has had us working all hours and I don’t intend on being there till lunch… Clint, gimme a bourbon please?” “Don’t let Barnes get to you” Sam says “you know what he is like” “Smug, arrogant and annoyingly self-righteous.” You nod “got it.” Sam smiles and drops a kiss to your cheek. “See you later” Clint slides the glass of bourbon over to you and you smile before pulling out your phone to check a few emails, social media… you’re just reading through an article you found on Twitter about a Billionaire who owns a Technology company in Malibu who has designed some kind of metal suit that allows him to fly (because that’s gonna end well) when a familiar voice breaks your concentration. “Can I buy you a drink?” You roll your eyes and look up at Bucky Barnes as he leans effortlessly on the bar, still in his suit, although he has dispensed of his tie and opened his top button. This is another thing you hate about him. He is utterly gorgeous. Like GQ cover gorgeous, especially in his sharp suits and silk ties…and he fucking knows it too. “Depends.” You say, throwing back the remainder of your bourbon “Does it come with a side helping of irritating smugness?” He chuckles “I’m off duty Doll so no.”

Doll.

“In that case I’ll have another Monkey Shoulder.” You say, picking the good stuff instead of the house brand, and you slide your empty glass back to Clint. “Take it you’re not driving home?” Barnes asks, eyes running over your bare legs. “Well if I do I’m sure you can get me off any charges…” you reply sharply, shooting him a look that makes it clear you caught him eyeing you up. And it isn’t the first time either. That’s another reason you clash so much in the courtroom. Sexual tension. Fucking jerk. He barks a laugh “You’re really not happy with me are you?” “Not particularly.” You say, thanking Clint as he slides the glass to you, with a small wink. It’s a double you notice. That should set Barnes back a bit. The man in question takes his beer and after a pull he looks directly at you. “Come work for me.” He says and you groan, not this again. “I’m a district attorney ” you roll your eyes. “Not a defence attorney. I told you that last time you asked. And the time before…and the time before that…” “I’m nothing if not persistent.” He winks, turning in his stool so he is facing you. “Besides, I can teach you the ways of the dark side…” “You’d love that wouldn’t you?” You snort. “Oh Sweetheart you have no idea.” He leans forward slightly, his elbow on the bar and this time he is blatantly staring at the flash of skin that shows above the buttons on your blouse. “My face is up here, ass hole.” With a smirk he raises his steel grey eyes and they lock onto you. Despite yourself you feel your breath hitch slightly. Dammed him and his sex appeal. “Where you always this insufferable?” You eventually tear your gaze away and pick up your drink, glancing up at the TV as an excuse not to look at him. “Ah come on Y/N, don’t be like that…” he says, reaching out to squeeze the hand that is resting on the back of the tall chair you’re sat in. “We could make a great team…” You raise an eyebrow and look at him. “Professionally” he adds, his eyes not leaving yours as he takes another large drink of his beer, as you pull your hand away from under his. “I’d kill you within 5 minutes of us being in the same office…” you glare at him as you take another sip from your drink. He chuckles and eyes you again “to be fair I’m not sure Stevie would be able to function with a beautiful dame such as yourself in close proximity…he still clusters around any woman that isn’t his Peggy” “That’s because Steve is a happily married man.” You look at him. “So am I.” He shoots back. Ah yes, Mrs Barnes… “Your wife deserves a medal. She must have the patience of a fucking saint to put up with you.” You say into your glass. “I have other hidden qualities which mean she’s prepared to overlook my slightly less favourable personality traits…” he quips and you look back to see that lopsided grin on his face that flips your stomach. Behave Y/N. “They must be very hidden.” You muse, and he lets out a bark of a laugh. “You’re killing me Doll…” “Good.” You drain your glass. The liquid burns your throat and you can feel the effects of the alcohol from the last few hours as your brain starts to hum. You look at Barnes who is watching you, his eyes are shining with all the cheekiness and suggestiveness of a teenage boy and you know you need to leave before you do something stupid- like snogging his dumb, handsome face off in the middle of the bar. “I think it’s time I got going.” You say simply, standing up. Barnes nods, draining his bottle “Yeah I should be going too. Wife to see to, you know how it is…” You stand and he does the same, and you realise he is holding up your jacket, ready for you to slide your arms into. Narrowing your eyes slightly at his sudden chivalry, with a small smile you turn and shrug it on. His hands drop to your shoulders and he spins you round gently and smiles with those perfect teeth and it lights up his beautiful face, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Lead the way Mrs Barnes…” he says, dropping a soft kiss to your lips. “You know it’s a good job I love you” you smile, sliding your arms up round his neck. “Although right now I’m struggling to remember why I do.“ “Well, when we get home I’ll just have to show you some of those hidden qualities to jog your memory…” You bite your lip slightly at the dark flash of desire that flits across his eyes and you lean up to brush your lips across his stubbled jawline. “Unanimous verdict…” your voice drops slightly as you pull back and he smirks again “Guilty as charged” You bid Clint good bye, link your hand into your husbands and he walks you outside into the brisk wind and his arm pulls you close, his lips press a soft kiss to your temple. Yeah, James Buchanan Barnes Defence Attorney might be smug, arrogant and annoyingly self-righteous in the courtroom, but outside it he’s simply your Bucky.

Tags

@thatfanficstuff

@djeniiscorner

@the-omni-princess

@jtargaryen18 @navispalace @chuuulip

#bucky barnes #writing challenge #creative writing #mcu #mcu fanfiction #au

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stark-tony · 5 years ago

Note

Uhm hi I am in desperate need of iron dad and spiderson fics. ASAP Or I might actually die. Pls help

i’m not for sure what type you want but here are some that I’ve read recently

* = incomplete

irondad bingo series* by hailingstars

summary:

pairings: pepperony, happy/may

tags: fluff

warnings: none

heart and nerve and sinew series* by blondsak

summary:

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings: hydra, kidnapping, non-consensual drug use

Up Came the Sun series* by WhimsicalEthnographies

summary:

pairings: pepperony, stucky

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: none

irondad bingo 2019 series* by sahiya

summary:

pairings: happy/may, pepperony, ned/peter

tags: hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: torture

a very, merry unbirthday by ciaconnaa

summary: “What’s all this, huh?” Peter asks. His eyes don’t leave the table as he wanders over to stand by where Tony is sitting, wrapping him in a gentle hug and pushing his head into his chest. Tony smiles before he tugs gently on the sleeve. Peter gets the message and leans down, allowing Tony to kiss his temple in greeting.

“You threw me a birthday party,” Peter accuses, smile going all dopey.

“An unbirthday party,” Morgan corrects. “Like in Alice in Wonderland. For all the ones you missed!”

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

The Hoodie™* by coconutknightshade

summary: The one in which Tony overhears Peter telling his roommate that the MIT hoodie he’s wearing is his dads.The one in which Peter never plans to call Tony ‘dad’ to his face but the universe has other plans.

pairings: pepperony, happy/may

tags: fluff

warnings: none

A Parent Apparent* by happyaspie

summary: In which the author indulges herself in some shameless Irondad/Spiderson with fluff, angst and everything in between because she needs more of that in her life.

Just another one of those, oh so overdone, fanfics where Tony and Peter’s relationship grows into more of a father/son relationship after an accident involving Aunt May (who lives)

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

oh, darling. by luna_e_stelle

summary: "Peter?“ Tony’s voice wavered with an urgency that cut through the thick haze in Peter’s mind.

There was so much emotion in that one word that Peter wondered how he had ever doubted that Tony loved him. They had never said it out loud, just showed it in a way that spoke louder than words ever could.

–

Peter is taken, and he tries to find his way back home.

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: torture, kidnapping, non-consensual drug use

Metamorphosis by art_deco_deity

summary: How Peter Parker changed Tony Stark; seen through the eyes of one Pepper Potts.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Sunlight by ArdenSkyeHolmes221

summary: “Stop pouting and ignoring me. You’re giving me a complex.”

“I am— I’m not pouting,” he sputters, avoiding his father’s gaze.

“Oooh, but you are ignoring me.”

***

Or the one where Peter struggles reintegrating in his own life after his dad lived five years without him.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: none

forty miles by peterstank

summary: “I love you,” Peter says. “Father-son styles.”

Or: the one where Morgan is sick and Tony is in way over his head, so he calls his spiderson for a little bit of help.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: none

A Little Monument of Stones by YellowDistress

summary: Russia’s royal family has been executed. The little prince is presumed dead.

That is until a boy is brought to Stark Manor, alive, thousands of miles away in rural England.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

How to Repair a Broken Heart* by InfluentialPineapple

summary: The Mechanic has a lot on his plate; Thanos is coming, the Guardians of the Galaxy are marooned, Thaddeus Ross is reaching right down his throat, and a budding super hero deserves his full attention. He’s also dying. No big deal. He can fix it. He can fix anything.

And he can do it all without even opening that stupid phone.

Now, where did those notes on Extremis go…?

(06/25/19: expect an update within a week, and I thank you all for your patience!)

pairings: pepper/ happy

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: torture, suicidal thoughts, alcoholism

Outsider by PinkEasterEggs

summary: “You know,” his Dad mused when they were halfway through the bread and the ducks were all swimming around them. “I used to come here during the 5 years when you were … gone.”

Peter didn’t know what to say, he’d half expected his Dad to of brought Morgan.

“I never brought any bread,” Tony sighed. “I just sat on that park bench for hours. I thought about bringing Morgan one year but … i wanted this place to be ours and ours only.”

Peter couldn’t even say how much that meant to him.

“You’ve changed,” Peter admitted. His Dad had created a whole new life for himself, one that Peter wasn’t really sure where he fit. All of his stuff had been thrown out and the Tower was sold.

“I know,” Tony sighed, ducking his head down to kiss Peter’s crown. “But i’ll always be your Dad.“

Peter tries to find his place in the world after the Avengers defeated Thanos. As much as he knows he’s loved, he can’t shake the feelings of being replaced when he comes into a new world where his father is now married and had another child.

(No Spider-Man Far From Home Spoilers)

#10: Biological Child

pairings: pepperony

tags: angst

warnings: none

Appendicitis by tommyparkerr

summary: In which Peter doesn’t realize until too late that the flu shouldn’t be this painful, and Tony Stark is right there to both lecture and comfort him (and accidentally call him his kid in the process).

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Allston Christmas by Gruoch

summary: “You guys didn’t have to do this,” Peter says from where he sits squeezed into the middle seat of the U-Haul, sweat running down his back. The air-conditioning in the truck they’ve rented is broken, and even with the windows rolled down it’s hellishly hot inside. “Really. I could have handled it myself.”

“We wanted to,” Tony replies as he blasts the horn at a minivan with a “Harvard Mom” bumper sticker that is attempting to cut into his lane. “It’s like a little trip down memory lane. It’s nostalgic—it’s gonna be fun. Right, Rhodey?”

“Absolutely,” Rhodey agrees, with all the enthusiasm of a man being lead to the gallows.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

who ya gonna call? by pparker (vaselseok)

summary: He shrieks and stumbles backward on instinct, slipping in the soapy water. His arms flail out in hopes of catching himself, but instead he snags the shower curtain and ends up ripping it free from the rod as he crashes to the ground. A split second later, the metal rod smacks into his nose.

“…Ow.”

Or, Peter thinks he’s being haunted, and Tony’s just trying to get through the week.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

Do Spiderlings Dream of Iron Sheep?* by blondsak

summary: A mission leaves Peter with narcolepsy. Tony may or may not be freaking out.

pairings: none

tags: humor, angst

warnings: none

chocolate chip cookies (alternate words for i love you) by hopeless_hope

summary: Being a superhero, Tony has come to expect a lot of things. He can’t really afford to be surprised by too much; being flexible is just part of the job. Aliens attacking New York? Sure. People threatening to attack his home? Not uncommon. A teenage spider-kid baking cookies in his kitchen at almost three in the morning?

Completely unexpected.

“You know, kid, when I said you’re welcome to anything in the kitchen, this isn’t quite what I was expecting,” Tony says dryly.

The evolution of Peter and Tony’s relationship, as told through late night conversations and chocolate chip cookies. aka 5 times Peter baked cookies for himself and Tony and 1 time Tony did the baking.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: none

It Hurts to Become by seekrest

summary: “Peter, what is going on with you?”

Tony sees the look in Peter’s eyes – can recognize the hint of something burrowing behind them. A look of someone who is distracted but is desperately trying to focus.

Peter looked exhausted, more than usual. Something’s off with the kid, he’d noticed it but now – watching Peter as it seemingly took all of his attention to focus on Morgan – caused something akin to regret to churn in his stomach.

Something was wrong with Peter.

pairings: michelle/peter

tags: angst

warnings: none

The Chilling Realities Of Hunting And Being Hunted by Buckets_Of_Stars

summary: All Peter and Tony had to do was cross the mountains. That’s it. Just climb a few hills and get to the Convention. They didn’t count on the snow, or the wind, or the fact that neither of them have cell service.

And they definitely didn’t count on the fact that they would be hunted—stalked—as they sit, freezing and shaking, on the side of the road.

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

For Pete’s Sake! by KitCat992

summary: Maybe he’d feel better if he closed his eyes, just for a second. It was too dark to see anything clearly anyway, and he’d be able to concentrate better without seeing how fast the ground was coming up to meet him.

A rush of wind sent goosebumps across his skin before two strong hands gripped his shoulders tightly, keeping him upright and from nose-diving straight into the alleyway cement.

Peter snapped his eyes open, blinking a couple times to clear his vision. Everything was blurry. Was that…?

“…ice cream man!?”

pairings: pepperony

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

#mcu #irondad and spiderson #irondad #peter parker #tony stark #my fic recs #Becca answers #justanothergurlwholovesmarvel #tw torture #tw kidnapping #tw hydra #tw nonconsensual drug use #tw alcoholism #tw suicidal thoughts #I think i'll probably put this as another in general rec list #cause it doesn't really have a theme going on

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science-lings · 4 years ago

Note

You have made me curious. Please tell me about your oc's! What are their names? Why? Are they from a specific fandom or from a world of your own making? What do they look like? What is thier favorite fruit/color/food/drink? You made a spidersona a while back, right? Have you developed them more or have you moved on? (Sorry theese are a lot of questions at once you don't have to awnser all of them if u don't want to lol)

Okay so I have a great many main ocs so I’ll make little intros for them that answer each question lol

also here’s a link to the masterlist that might be more helpful and less rambly lol, it also links to art of the characters if you’re interested:

OC MASTERLIST

First of all, we have Rosalia (Rose) Scarlett Dawn who has healing powers, she (or at least her main design) started out as the spidersona you mentioned, but she evolved beyond even marvel oc territory lol. I draw her the most, she’s the one with red fading into white hair and sectoral heterochromia/ gold eyes, you can probably find her very easily on my art account @sciencelings-arts. Her image is also what I use as the icon for my writing account @sciencelings-writes which was a commission I got done for her last Halloween. She has become a very different character, although I still really vibe with her spidersona origins. She exists in the marvel universe as a SHIELD agent that does her best to use her powers for good but once SHIELD falls she works for Tony Stark and the Avengers as their on-call medical professional as she is kind of the expert in weird shit like injuries and sickness that originate from magic or alien stuff. Her sister Artemis also works for SHIELD as a field agent and does not have powers. Their relationship is kinda complex and depends on the universe that they’re in, like my original series is set in a bunch of different universes as I don’t want to constrict myself with just writing fantasy or sci-fi or whatever. Anyway Rose is a lesbian with underestimated powers and all that kind of shit. She’s fruity, they say an apple a day keeps the doctor away but she is the doctor and she will consume any apple within her eyesight.

Second of all, this one will be shorter, Andromeda Starling, Basically her parents were scientists for hydra and she found out and ran away, resulting in her getting lost in space and gaining shapeshifting powers that evolve from partial shifts like gills and wings to full transformations like turning into a dragon because she wants to. She’s a sapphic asexual and is endgame with Rose, Her image is on my art blog (linked above) and my rarely used OC blog @sciencelings-ocs, After her transformation, her blood turned purple and her eyes turned purple and all her hair turned a cold white. She actively avoids going to earth and is the basic lone wolf type that comes across as mean but it’s mostly due to trauma and mental illnesses. She kicks ass and has no idea how to talk to people. She likes space fruit and actually knows how to cook space food.

Next, we have Adisa Crow AKA Doctor Plague who is Rose’s nemesis, She got her powers from trying to recreate Rose’s powers within her and it going very wrong. Her powers can reverse other character's powers and skills, whether that’s a direct opposite like making a fire-themed character control ice or whether it’s just twisting the power against them, like making Andromeda’s shapeshifting uncontrollable as her power normally relies on her focus and complete control. But her powers come with a price as they are constantly affecting her, giving her hallucinations and manipulating her thoughts and emotions drastically. She wears a plague doctor mask when in full supervillain mode. She and Rose have a full friends to lovers to enemies to friends kind of arc as when she is released of her powers she might be forgivable with a whole lot of therapy. She only drinks Redbull and coffee.

speaking of therapy, next we have Alexandria Iriklitis. She’s a superhuman therapist with a magic voice. She mostly uses her voice to manipulate emotions but it’s powerful enough to levitate objects and break glass, and even bring down buildings and stuff. She has very colorful hair and very solid black geometric tattoos all over her body. She’s not normally a fighter type of character but she does appear as a peacock siren bard in the fantasy au and that comes with having wing arms and a big dramatic peacock tail. She is the only emotionally stable one usually but she’s not perfect and although it takes a lot to rile her up, she can lose her shit and no one should be within fifty miles of her when that happens.

Next, we have Ma’at Ramses who is a necromancer goth mom who adopts death kids that are ostracised from the normal magic organizations. She has a magic sword hilt that shifts into different weapons at will and a magic helmet that resembles an Egyptian pharaoh's crown that gives her extra abilities. She’s constantly in contact with the dead and her mission is to give them peace but more and more keep coming to her for help and no matter how much she works, she is never finished. She constantly feels the rage from the dead that need to be avenged and it takes tremendous control to not take it out on the people around her. Eventually, she figures out that those feelings are not her own and she can control how much they affect her and she becomes a much less angry person. She’s kinda morally gray as she has no qualms about things like murder of she decides that the person really deserves it. She really hates injustice and doesn’t just sit around for people change and you know, heavily bigoted politicians just disappear sometimes, that’s just how life is.

Next is Diana Schmitt, a mutant who can control the heat of objects (mostly metal and glass) and the molten outcome. She’s heavily scarred on half of her body including her face and she’s missing an arm and a leg that she replaced with layered metal and glass prosthetics. She’s trans and sapphic because I can’t make cishet characters to save my life. She uses her powers to make weapons and tools as she has big blacksmith energy. also, she's six feet tall and super buff. She's the whole gentle giant type and is super friendly. Her scars and limb loss are from a malicious attack with ice which causes her to hate any kind of cold and even makes ice a trauma trigger for her. She hates the winter and tries her best to avoid cold places. She is immune to incredibly high heat and has literally slept inside of a volcano with a magma blanket. cozy.

Lastly (I think) we have Guinevere (Gwen) Kaimana. She’s an actual mermaid. and a Pirate. She can control the sea and temporarily turn her tail into a skirt over fishnet tights covering human legs. When out of the water she has to take special care to be very hydrated. She can faint if lacking enough water in her body. She has Polynesian tattoos on her arm and torso that glow white in the dark but only when it’s very dark like when she’s very deep in the ocean. She wields dual scimitars (those curved pirate swords) and is bisexual. She has a very unearthly energy and is basically a myth to the people on land, but on the seas, she’s known as the Queen of the Seas and is feared by the people who don’t know her. She has big found family energy with her crew and mostly just focuses on saving sea life and causing trouble for the us military because she thinks it's funny. They tend to overreact and try to find her and “bring her to justice” but they can never find her, no matter how much they search. Before becoming a pirate she had spent several unaging decades in isolation in the ocean before she was willing to associate with people again. Sometimes she gets confused by current events and technology when she visits the land but she hates showing it.

#this ended up being a little long whoops #i kinda worked all morning on this. I woke up like an hour ago tho so not that long #ask gay #my ocs #ocs #marvelsonas #marvel ocs #marvel oc #Rosalia Scarlett Dawn #Andromeda Starling #Adisa Crow #Doctor Plague #Alexandria Iriklitis #Ma'at Ramses #My OC Phoenix #Diana Schmitt #Guinevere Kaimana #OCs #Anonymous

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lovehotelreservation · 5 years ago

Text

Emerald with Envy

Summary: You weren't looking at him. You were looking at the crowd, the orchestra, the lead actor of the show. Claude knew it couldn't be helped. You had to shift your gaze elsewhere. He understood why you didn't want to look at him.

Even if he was your husband.

And yet, as he continued to watch you perform on stage, he just couldn't ignore the envy that was beginning to seize hold of his heart.

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Reader/Claude

HELLO BELOVED!!! it's been a while since I've completed writing this piece, but with the holidays here, I thought now would be nice to post the rather l e n g t h y Claude piece I've been working on. CONSIDER THIS AN EXPRESSION OF MY FEELINGS AFTER ACHIEVING HIS S SUPPORT ENDING AFTER THE WAR ; v ;

ANYHOW I HOPE U ENJOY!!!

..............

For all his tremendous efforts, crafted schemes, and unwavering resolve, there was something just so humorously ironic that Claude von Riegan, the newly annointed king of Almyra, could not even get a general admission ticket to a sold out show by the Mittelfrank Opera Company.

And yet he could not bring himself to chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.

It was not so much as his standing as king that caused the issue--especially with Archbishop Byleth's successes of bridging Fódlan together with other nations.

Rather, he was simply too late to buy a ticket for tonight's performance. The theater house was packed to the brim with nobles and common folk, all eager to witness the last run of a special production directed by none other than Mittelfrank Opera's former songbird, Manuela Casagranda.

And while Claude was curious to see how a show under his former instructor's helm had turned out, his true reason for zooming across the skies on his wyvern from Almyra to Enbarr was the star of the evening's show.

The Golden Deer representative who had won the White Heron Cup of the year 1180.

The one who would soon bear the crown as queen of Almyra.

You, the wife he cherished above anything else in the world.

And while he never doubted your love for him, he understood if there was a wariness in your heart.

He was asking so much of you upon quietly taking your hand in marriage after the war before immediately heading off for Almyra, after all.

But you understood him, as you had all this time. Beyond just his own vision, his actions in Almyra would shape the world for the better--for the kinder. As sad as it was to part so soon after the two of you had exchanged your vows, you eagerly awaited the beginning of a lengthy letter correspondence between you both.

It was by those letters that he learned of the show in the first place.

Your lifelong passion for performance had led up to this debut with the Mittelfrank Opera. However, constant negotiations and intense reformation within Almyra demanded his presence throughout nearly the entirety of the show’s run. With the production ending on this very night, your last letter expressed hope that he would be able to come watch you on the stage that served as the realization of your dreams.

And thus, rather than stand downtrodden outside the theater with a gorgeous bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand and a new Almyran-crafted wedding ring in his pocket to adorn your finger, he still made his way inside.

Backstage to be precise.

With all his efforts in his motherland, sneaking by security was nothing for him.

Surely, while he was going to have to figure out just which spot in the theater he would have to scale along for a good view of the stage, his utmost priority was seeing you.

To say hello, to kiss with love, to embrace so tight, to adorn with gifts.

Though, with the bustle of actors in the midst of powdering their faces and tugging at tights, orchestra members preparing to saunter out to their seats with instruments in hand, and the overall chaos of stage hands preparing scenery pieces and props, finding your dressing room wasn’t going to be easy, especially with the performance so close to starting.

However, he only managed a couple minutes of searching before a familiar robust and pristine voice called out to him.

"Claude? Is that you?"

Truly, Claude thought he was past the point where people could easily get the jump on him. And yet, he couldn’t hold back his surprise as he turned around with raised brows and a somewhat slack jaw.

Sure enough, with the elegant mane of fiery red hair--tied and tamed into a loose low ponytail--that was the first to catch his eye, he remarked with astonishment, "Ferdinand! Good to see you!" A grin quirking onto his lips, he took a step back as he took note of the duke’s overly embellished yet stylish red waistcoat and a matching black pair of tights and pointe shoes. "I'm digging tonight's look. No trusty horse boots though?"

Releasing a rich chuckle, Ferdinand beamed with pride as his hands rested on his waist, "A good eye, Claude! Though, I’ll happily have you know that I am performing tonight."

While not immediate, somehow Claude felt his smile wane ever so slightly. Still, maintaining his exuberance, he let out an astonished, “Really now?! That’s a surprise to me. Surely the news coverage in Enbarr isn’t so slack that a duke performing in a sold out show would go unnoticed.”

”Surely not!” Ferdinand remarked as he shook his head, a knowing smile on his features. “My inclusion was last minute, as the original male lead injured his leg during rehearsal. It was a great honor to be asked by Professor Manuela to step in as his replacement--like I could ever turn her down while she's in need.” Bringing a hand to his heart, he let out a sigh of nostalgic delight. “I happen to know this show by heart from how many times I’ve seen her perform it all those years ago. Plus to reunite in dance with--"

The moment your name was uttered from Ferdinand's lips, Claude’s shoulders tensed slightly as he immediately inquired, “Not meaning to butt in like so, Ferdinand, but where is she?" Lifting up your bouquet, he continued with a sheepish smile, “Gotta make sure these get into her hands asap.”

It was now Ferdinand whose smile turned from cheerful to reserved. His tone calming down, he answered, "As far as I know, she's still getting ready for tonight’s show.” The look in his eyes turned serious, if not narrowing slightly as he gazed towards Claude. “The last I saw her though, she did not look to be in the best of spirits. She even asked Professor Manuela for absolute privacy unless needed otherwise."

Claude felt hollow. “Did she now...?”

The words of your last letter flashed in his mind, as did memories of days from Garreg Mach. Those nights when the two of you would toe the line of curfew to instead take a stroll by the greenhouse and pond, you expressing your dreams of captivating audiences on a prestigious stage, to spread joy through the art of performance.

His response to your letter was expressing an apology, an honest admittance that he was unsure of how he would be able to take the time to come see your performance.

For someone who always managed to pull off the most inane but effective schemes, how could he have not realized that his absence during such an incredible milestone would leave you upset?

The fine wrapping paper around your bouquet crinkled slightly as he squeezed around the stems.

Noticing the change in Claude’s mood, Ferdinand let out a sigh. “All I will say is that she was hoping that you would show up to watch her. And having heard nothing from you since your last letter, she came to terms that you wouldn’t get to see her at all. This time at least.”

Claude’s lips quirked into a smile, albeit a bittersweet one as he let out a humorless laugh. “I can’t blame her for feeling that way. Though…” Resting your bouquet against his shoulder, he shook his head. “I’m not just gonna sit around and feel sorry for myself. Not when this night is--and should--be about her.”

His gaze shifted towards a nearby hallway, wondering if your dressing room was somewhere down along those walls. “I’m gonna make things right by her, whether I even have a seat or not.” Determination in his voice, he smiled as he raised his hand in a departing wave. “I appreciate the heads up, Duke von Aegir. Be careful when you break a leg out there, alright?” Amused at the thought, he chuckled, “From whatever seat I manage to whip out, I’ll be sure to give you your deserved applause as well.”

"Before you try to bring a wyvern into this sacred space to give yourself a seat, I'd rather you take this, Claude…!” Ferdinand exclaimed, his complexion paling at the idea of any sort of shenanigans occurring with Manuela around. Reaching in his pocket, he quickly withdrew and held out a theater ticket. “This was given to me for any guest of my choosing just moments ago, but it was originally set aside for this single hope that you would be in the audience."

His eyes lighting up, Claude grinned from ear to ear as he cheered, “Ferdinand, if there was ever a reason for me to take up religion, it’d be now!”

With a good-natured chuckle, Ferdinand seemed hardly affronted at his less-than-suave rush to pluck the ticket from his fingers, "It was already rightfully yours, my friend! However, if I may overstep, I would advise you go now to claim your seat, lest someone try to argue it is theirs."

Casting another glance down the hallway, his grip on the bouquet shifted. Though his gut churned at the thought of not getting to seek you out until after the show, the noble had a fair point. Yet, despite his inner conflict, his smile remained charming and untouched as he tucked the ticket into his pocket, fingers brushing against cool metal while doing so, "Right you are. I'd hate to cause a scene--tonight at least."

As the activity backstage picked up and with the ticket now in his possession, he bid his goodbyes before quickly taking off for his seat. There was much on his mind as he thought over what was revealed to him just moments ago, namely how he was going to make it up to you.

While he was already mentally cataloguing all the gifts and experiences he intended on showering and spoiling you with, he knew there was one thing that you wanted most of all.

And him being here at the theater, now seated at the balcony closest to the stage with a full view of the production below as it began, was the first step.

The title of tonight’s show brought back faint memories of Garreg Mach, having been a required read for all students as a means to have them become more cultured in the fine arts of literature. A story of a triumphant hero who sought to protect his motherland from an enemy nation that wanted to scrounge every bit of precious resources from a sacred forest, which was protected by an angelic deity.

Ferdinand eventually dragged himself onto the stage as the hero, looking distressed and weary as he was forced to retreat from battle. His character wandered about as stage hands deftly moved a set of glittering trees and flowers around in tune to the orchestra’s lamenting score.

All up until the composition fell silent before a dreamy melody filled the theater space.

Claude found himself grasping onto the railing, peering forward as a spotlight shone upon the furthest side of the stage.

In but a few moments, you soon stepped forward for your first appearance of the show.

His breath turned still, jaw slacking, eyes widening, heart fluttering.

You looked so radiant and beautiful.

While surely he would always be enchanted by your beauty, you looked so ethereal--absolutely perfect for your role. Your hair lusciously glistening under the lights of the stage, your face painted with make-up that accentuated your features, your body adorned with frills and drapes that would make for a delight to see as you danced.

Even by merely walking, you left him feeling captivated by the grace you exuded with each step.

And all the more guilty that he was not there to support you more than he did in the months leading up to the debut of the show and beyond.

Regardless, as he was already determined to amend anything and everything with you in light of his absence, Claude kept a steady eye on you throughout the performance.

As the plot progressed--with a newfound alliance between your and Ferdinand’s characters--it didn’t take long for him to remember the fact that a romance was woven into the story.

So dedicated to your role, you were able to convey a deep sense of yearning with every shy glance and each flustered sputter made towards Ferdinand, who carried himself with just as much earnest emotion.

Truly, the both of you looked as though you were lost within your own world together, even with asides to the audience, whether by a passionate decree, or a lamentful thought voiced out loud.

At no point did you look to Claude’s direction from where he sat above.

It was to be expected.

He gave you no reason to be hopeful.

Though he marveled at the sight of you carrying yourself so splendidly on stage, his elbows resting on the edge of the balcony while his chin rested upon his steepled hands, the vibrant glint of his emerald irises was more subdued.

For his eyes reflected the sight of you being embraced so affectionately by Ferdinand.

Again, you both were playing your respective roles. The war hero who was destined to fall helplessly in love with the enchanted forest’s deity.

Together, you waltzed amidst sweet, airy chords from the orchestra, Ferdinand’s arm curled around your waist, fingers laced with yours.

Together, you confessed and declared your love towards one another as he embarked for the final confrontation that would either save his country--and thereby the forest you swore to protect--or damn everything to ruin.

Together, as he staggered back from the final standoff only for his battleworn form to be caught within your comforting embrace, you shared a kiss.

And together, you both were ushered on stage for curtain call, boisterous applause welcoming the two of you for your performance.

Without fail, the theater was lively with praise from every patron for tonight’s performance.

Yet somehow, as you stood upon the stage, gazing out towards the audience with an appreciative smile on your face and a look in your eye that conveyed muted joy, one cheer caught your attention.

“That’s my girl!”

A whistle that soared through the air with such distinction, carrying a tone that was as striking as arrows that pierced the skies.

Amidst astonished gasps--was that a horrified “Claude?!” uttered from Lorenz down below?--and curious looks, at long last, you looked towards the balcony.

To him.

From the very moment he saw your head shift towards his direction, he beamed from ear to ear, bringing his fingers to his lips as he whistled once more.

The look on your face wounded Claude’s heart from how preciously surprised it was.

This only made him want to swoop you right into his arms and barrage you with kisses, to make up for lost time, for all the affection he could not physically convey.

And so he quickly took off to do exactly that.

As the audience proceeded to make their leave, Claude used the opportunity to sneak his way backstage once more.

Undeterred by any security who would come to stand in his way nor the near endless wave of cast members and orchestra musicians alike, he hurriedly sought out to find you--as he was certain that you were probably scrambling to seek him out as well.

However, the moment he was able to reach the main lounge area, he soon faced the sight of you, still looking so radiant in your costume.

All while surrounded by a multitude of adoring admirers, namely those of nobility, all of whom were instantaneously recognizable.

As he anticipated, there was Lorenz, singing high praises of your performance while near bathing you with roses. From how much he prattled out his passion for the show and the opportunity to watch the esteemed Mittelfrank Opera, it was more likely than not that he would refrain from bringing up Claude’s outburst.

By his side was a grinning Sylvain, who crooned on your graceful movements and expressed his appreciation for the fit of your dress. He gifted you with a bouquet of red orchids, but not before plucking a short-stemmed one to tuck behind your ear.

And as this occurred, Ferdinand stayed near you. While surely it was to catch up with Lorenz and Sylvain, he hovered by your side protectively as to ward off any bold, intense advancements towards you.

There was a look of overwhelmed but touched awe on your face as you were bestowed by a multitude of sweet words and gifts.

The eagerness in Claude’s smile waned.

And the wrapping paper of his bouquet crinkled slightly further in his hands.

”--with this, it would be best for us both to prepare for the cast dinner celebrating the final show,” Ferdinand hummed with a satisfied smile. “I do hope to see the two of you there. Professor Manuela would be thrilled for a reunion.”

”But of course!” Lorenz declared haughtily with a flick of his silken purple locks. “To miss out on this opportunity would be a disgrace on my nobility.”

Memories from the Officers’ Academy resurging into his mind, Sylvain’s expression became rather tense. “Professor Manuela huh…” Still, his expression soon brightened as he continued, “So long as all those pretty ballerinas are around, I’m game.” His eyes shifting towards you, one closed in a wink. “Especially if you’ll be there, angel.”

”Me?” You repeated curiously right as Ferdinand proceeded to lead you towards the dressing rooms with his arm raised in a polite wave, all while eyeing Sylvain sternly.

”We’ll see the two of you later then!” He remarked, all the while he swore that he saw a familiar flash of golden fabric from the corner of his eyes right as he guided you away.

With the fervor of everyone beginning their celebrations early with champagne and hors d'oeuvres or preparing to leave for the celebratory banquet, you and Ferdinand didn’t get to speak much once he brought you to your dressing room. Before he left to change in his own reserved room, he confirmed the details of the evening’s dinner with you.

Upon his leave, you soon let out a sigh as you took in the emptiness of your dressing room.

For just a moment, Claude was here in this theater, cheering for you at the top of his lungs.

And now he was not.

It almost felt like this was the twist in your dream that would cause for you to jolt up in bed.

There was so much swirling about in your mind and heart, all much too vast for you to even attempt to sort through, especially right before a celebration that called for merriment and bliss.

Not wanting to possibly damper the atmosphere of dinner, you resolved to sort this out upon returning home.

As you prepared to set down your gifted flowers and the like, you noticed that at the very center of your vanity was a bouquet of your favorites.

Astonished, you froze in place as a hushed “Claude?” tumbled from your lips.

“Heheh, now that’s the sound I’ve been wanting to hear.”

And then you heard the door lock.

You were swift to turn around.

There, proceeding to lean right against your dressing room door with a playful twinkle in his eye and a cheeky grin on his lips was none other than your husband.

Though his attire was more Almyran in style, his matured, yet still boyish features now more devilishly rogue by his decision to grow out his beard--one still kept neatly trimmed along his jaw--the man before you was the one to whom you had sworn an eternity with.

Claude.

Just as when you were too stunned to do anything but gawk in awe when he called out to you on stage, you were frozen from the rush of feelings that came surging from within at the sight of him. The indescribable joy of seeing him in front of you after so long, the immense relief that he was able to see you perform at least once, the lingering bittersweetness of his absence.

You didn’t know what to do or say.

He could tell with just a single look.

Still, his tone was light, now especially gentle as he spoke to you while his expression softened. “Something wrong?” He stepped closer, his usual proud stature loosening as he neared you. “I understand if I’m probably the last person you want to see--”

You held up both of your hands.

He felt something prick at his heart.

While you braved a smile on your face, you reassured with a shake of your head. “No it’s fine. I just…” You quickly turned around, your back facing him once more. “Just give me a moment to get out of this, okay?”

The sight of your back only weighed heavier on his heart. While he still played everything off coolly, he craved nothing more than to absolve the tension that was keeping the two of you apart. Though you could hear the grin in his voice, you couldn’t hear the ache in his soul. “A moment to wait for you is nothing. Take your time.”

While he went to mind himself with all there was to see in the room--scripts, costumes, small portraits of Mittelfrank alumni--you proceeded to change out of your dress.

Or at least, attempted to.

Being married, undressing in front of your husband wasn’t what was causing your fingers to tense.

It was this overall situation, this feeling of guilt for being upset over a noble cause, of feeling selfish for a man who just wanted to change the world for the better.

Your love for Claude was undoubtedly there.

But there was a lonely sadness that had lingered for so long nonetheless.,/p>

Which only made it more and more difficult to reach for the hooks and silk ties that held the back of your dress’s corset.

As your focus sunk deeper into the twisted nature of your feelings, this endeavor amidst such a tense situation only caused your body temperature to rise for a myriad of reasons.

But it only took the feeling of warm, calloused hands taking hold of your struggling ones for you to feel a welcome, shivering chill.

Furthered by the heat of breath that fanned over your ear and neck.

“Need some help?”

Standing before your vanity, you gazed at the reflection shown on the mirror, of you and your husband together.

Once again.

You had a feeling of where this moment would soon lead to. While one side was elated for what you foresaw, a part of you was adamant to not allow for your emotions to be swayed and cast aside so easily.

Steadying your voice as best as you could, you reassured, “I-It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it--”

“I may not have to worry about it, but what kind of husband would I be if I left my pretty wife to struggle?”

His eyes peered at you as he stared at your reflection off the mirror before you, his words murmured just centimeters away from your ear. Though his tone carried some mirth and his lips were quirked in a smile, the usual playful light in his eyes was muted, his emerald irises dark and shadowed.

It was a look of passion.

And of love.

Just for you.

The tension in your fingers weakened within his grasp.

”...I’d appreciate your help then.”

And help he did.

Seeing your costume for the first time up close, he could be forgiven for any fumbling, especially while trying to assist you. Tugging at the top halter tie of your dress revealed a small hook that had to be undone, the tugs of your corset’s strings revealed clasps that his nimble fingers made quick work of.

As he continued to slowly help you undress, he could tell when the heat of his breath ghosting over your bare shoulders and his fingers brushing along your sides made you stiffen or shiver. While he certainly wouldn’t have minded if you shut your eyes in pleasure, what he came to notice was that you eyes were downcast to the floor, instead of staring right ahead to your respective reflections.

And in turn--

“You’re not looking at me.”

He found himself gripping onto the front bow that crossed right over your decolletage, emotions pushing the words past his lips before rationality could retain them in place.

Your eyes suddenly flashed towards the mirror, wide from surprise. “I’m sorry?”

In any other situation, he would have taken a step back to calm himself so he could approach the situation sensibly. But knowing that there was so much hesitation in your heart that you probably felt too guilty to admit, there was just no way that he could refrain.

His other arm curled around your waist as he drew you against him, holding your body close as he rested his chin on your shoulder with a sigh and a bittersweet smile.

“It’s selfish of me, especially to even bring this up as something bothersome. All night, you’ve had your eyes cast elsewhere.” His eyelids closed for a moment as he recalled your performance. “To the audience, to Ferdinand, Lorenz, Sylvain--and now your eyes are looking everywhere besides me, even when I’m right here, holding you in my arms like this.”

While his emerald stare revealed itself once more, he proceeded to bury his face into your neck, lips barely tracing over the delicate skin as he murmured, “But you have good reason to do so. I won’t deny that.”

Lifting his head, he gazed up at you with reverence as your eyes shifted over to look into his. "Actions say so much more than words ever could, and all I want to do is show--rather, to reaffirm the undeniable fact that you are the most important person in my life."

His fingers lingered at the front bow of your dress. From what he could assess, one tug at the fabric would free and expose your chest. As much as he craved to see your skin after so long, he waited for what you had to say.

You were quiet in response, an understandable hesitation given everything that had happened.

Though, he didn’t have to wait for an answer for long, by the way your hand rested comfortably over his and squeezed, all while you stared at him earnestly with the soft but yearning response of, ”Then show me.”

Claude had nothing else to say, but an answer to give.

The kiss he then hungrily planted on your lips was just the beginning.

Upon the dressing room sofa where you would sit upon to read over the script or letters from your husband while steadying your racing heart prior to a performance, there was a flutter within your chest as you were laid upon it with an urgency that was as needy as it was tender.

With all the intricacies of your dress, usually Claude would have loved to take his time tugging and undoing every ribbon and button, a pride in the dexterity of his nimble fingers as he undressed you like he would unwrap a present.

However, at this moment, after so long, he was in no mood for such indulgence. If something had to be torn or ruined, so be it. As king, he could easily offer monetary compensation to the seamstress of your costume --perhaps even commission for more lovely outfits for you to wear.

The orchid that Sylvain tucked behind your ear joined your pile of discarded clothes, with his Almyran garb soon following suit.

For every inch of skin revealed to his eyes, his mouth watered to kiss while his fingers ached to touch. He almost forgot to strip you completely from the moment his lips encircled around your nipples, all while his palms kneaded your breasts. How could he have ever forgotten the sweet warmth of your skin against his nuzzling face?

Your mewls from his attention to your chest reminded him to continue onward. For as much as he wanted to near worship your chest, there was still so much more of you he wished to revere once again. His lips continued their journey downwards, mouth ghosting over your stomach, trailing over your hips. His teeth just barely caught hold of the band of your panties before he tugged them down to your thighs, his hand dragging them off before he spread your legs wide apart.

Beneath the flickering flames of your dressing room chandelier, your naked body was bathed in soft golden light. Even now, fully stripped of your costume of a forest enchantress, you still looked so gorgeously ethereal.

As he thought during his days spent at the Officers Academy to now, you were lovelier than any divine deity.

His gaze shifted down to between your thighs, love and lust clouding his emerald eyes in a haze. Catching sight of the glistening shine of your dribbling core, he let out a groan before hurriedly planting his face down, his lips eagerly parted. Long, skillful strokes of his tongue had you mewling and arching against his head.

He grinned happily to himself. Even after so long, he still knew how to make you squirm by his self-proclaimed golden tongue, whether by its teasing flicks or the utter filth he would murmur to you. The focused pressure of quick circles over your clit to tender suckles had his name pouring out from your lips.

And truly, he did not want to cease. After countless months from having your addictive taste linger on his lips, he was ready to spend the night with his face right between your thighs.

However, it was for that same reason he could not indulge for too long, if by the increasingly aching throb of his cock.

For too long he had been away from you.

It was time at last that the two of you were joined together once again in the absolute most intimate way possible.

Looming above you upon the couch, chest broad and fine with hair, eyes gleaming with need and affection, Claude was settled between your legs. “Fuck,” was the word hissed so sinfully from your husband’s lips as he nudged the leaking tip of his cock against the slickness of your center.

Right as he slowly slid every heavy inch of his dick inside you, his lips sought out yours for yet another kiss. Somehow, for as much as he has kissed you up until now during this evening, he felt like he was still far from having his fill. He just wanted to make up for lost time, to satisfy his present urges, to express all the love he should have been putting more effort with doing so.

His hands cradled your waist as he worked his thrusts into a rhythm. Moderate at first, but hearing your moans and feeling your fingers thread through his hair while your legs curled around his hips encouraged him to start pounding into you. He wanted his name the only thing on your lips, to have his hair pulled and his shoulders near clawed, to have your body cling to him with absolute need.

In-between kisses that become messier, amidst the noisiness of his cock stuffing into your sopping center while his balls slapped against your ass, he still had a coherency as he spoke to you, his words husky but the look in his eyes sincere, "I've had my eyes cast to the future--our future--so much that I forgot how important it was to be with you now--"

A knock at the door.

The call of your name.

”We will be taking off soon. Are you ready to disembark?”

Ferdinand.

You were astonished, your eyes breaking contact with Claude’s to turn to the door. Your lips were about to speak when your husband spoke up, his voice cheeky yet firm.

”She’s not ready yet, but I’ll be the one to take her to dinner, Ferdinand. We’ll see you in a bit.”

Ferdinand’s flustered squawk went unnoticed by Claude, who only continued to hammer his cock into you.

Your gasped “Claude-!” was smothered by his lips with yet another kiss. When the two of you parted for breath, his gaze seized contact with yours as he gruffed out, “Don’t think of Ferdinand. Him, Lorenz, Sylvain--anyone. Just keep your eyes on me, okay?”

You were utterly surprised, breathless as you questioned, “Claude, you-- Are you jealous?”

”I’m your husband,” he clarified with absolute resolution, his grip on your waist slacking to instead give way for his arms caging around you. As his lips readied to claim another kiss from your mouth, he purred, “And I’m going to make that clear.”

He was certain that you would admonish him, whether immediately now or when the two of you were finished. However, seeing as how you were the one to initiate the kiss before he could, followed by your hands releasing his hair to cup his bearded cheeks instead, what he heard you say next was all that he could ever want to hear.

Dazed with pleasure as you were, the love in your voice and on the look of your face was absolute. “As your wife, you better.”

A wide grin soon spread over his lips. “Leave it to me.”

And so the two of you remained joined together. By lips, by skin, by words of affection. Your hips rutted back against his thrusts, his teeth made their presence known on your neck, making sure to leave at least one that would be hard to hide during dinner. It wasn’t long until you were both teetering on the edge of orgasm, you and Claude clinging and holding onto each other amidst it all.

“I’m gonna cum,” he gasped out, shuddering as he readied to draw out. “And unless you wanna get to bearing heirs already then--”

Your legs hugged his hips tighter, a mewled “That’s fine” escaping you.

Claude’s jaw went slack for a moment, just before tightening as a fiery resolve took over him as he proceeded to fuck you even harder, his voice in a low and satisfied growl, “That’s my girl. My sweet girl. Mine…!”

With the cries of each other’s names soon released into the air along with the heavy, hot rush of his seed pouring into you, your bodies soon collapsed back onto the sofa together in a satisfied heap, at last the two of you fully reunited--in body and in soul.

Though you both would have to soon get ready as to not miss dinner, for now, Claude was insistent on hugging you close so he could leave an endless trail of kisses along wherever he saw fit, all while your fingers gently stroked through his messy brown curls. The air was tender and light, any bit of tension and guilt from before completely washed away.

When his mouth met yours yet again, Claude stared at you adoringly, his tone tender as he remarked, “And to think, you’ve just captured the hearts of Fódlan with your talents on stage.” One eye closing in a wink, he grinned. “And you get to do it all over again to your adoring people in Almyra.”

Your head tilted slightly to the side, your expression curious if not confused. “My what?”

Claude froze. “Oh...right. About that--”

How he so very looked forward to spending forever with you.

#claude von riegan #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #reader insert #Fic #super freaknasty writing #management will return in a queue minutes

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voidlitmoon · 5 years ago

Text

I've Lost My Past, But Found My Future

Alright! Virgil time @sugarglider9603!

Oo so originally I was going to have this be a really big chapter including Virgil getting caught.. buttttt it's already super long, so it's going to be a part two. Also hahah, I post like three in a row and then this one takes several days :')

I just.. I saw the opportunity for soft Moxiety making flower crowns and I took it, hope you enjoy!

Also fun fact, today (8/21/19) is fanfiction writers appreciation day!

Edit- adition of art (8/22/19) this will be appearing in every fic now, and I will be adding it to the older ones as well :)

Ao3 link

Ao3 series link

Part 2 Part 4

Master post

Words: 2,417

Summery: 'Just below their room sat a few tipped over metal garbage cans, something small and dark looking in all of them, sniffing. It's tail sank down in disappointment as it backed out the last one, not finding what it was looking for, and Thomas couldn't help but gasp.

The pokemon heard as it's head head shot up, ears pricked in fear as it stared back. Roman flicked his tail against Thomas' arm as the Eevee felt something, something he knew the trainer would be feeling as well. Thomas flinched as his mind snapped back in place, ready to call to the creature, but it was already running back into the forest.

And in a matter of moments, the dark furred Eevee was out of sight.'

Making it through half a forest usually means a bit of rest is deserved, right?

Well of course, until you see another soul piece outside your window.

Now, how are we going to befriend this one? Flower crowns? Patton is on the job

Thomas smiled as the path below his feet broke the tree cover, placing him and his team in a large clearing. He did love camping out in the woods, the wind whistling songs throughout the night and the stars danced above, but something about sleeping in an actual bed brought home back.

He stared at the Pokecenter that (from what he read) laid near the middle of the woods, meaning they where about half way through. The sun was still up yes, but was silently sinking closer to disappearing below the thick tree tops.

"Come on, almost there" he reassured Patton who, unlike Roman and Logan who where walking on either side of Thomas, laid across the trainers shoulders, attempting to stay awake either till they reach the Pokecenter or a campsite was set up. Thankfully for the silver Eevee, they entered and booked a room in a matter of minutes. Thomas softly set him down on the bed, slipping off his glasses as Logan jumping up next to the human, giving him a 'thank you' chirp as he pawed off his own pair before curling around his partner. Thomas had to bite his lip to stop the squeal trying to erupt at the soft cuddles, the slightly larger dark silver Eevee laying a tail over the other, heads set next to each other as purrs erupted.

Thomas sat on the bed as he pet Roman, who had plopped into his lap after the trainer had changed into pajamas. The two Eevees had been a part of his team for some time now, Logan even assisting with the last gym battle. He glanced happily at the sleeping two, glad that they felt the connection as strong as Thomas did.

The quiet spell though was brokens as a few quiet sounds of metal on metal crashed outside his second story room. Thomas blinked in confusion, Roman paddling curiously behind the trainer as he opened and looked out the window.

Just below their room sat a few tipped over metal garbage cans, something small and dark looking in all of them, sniffing. It's tail sank down in disappointment as it backed out the last one, not finding what it was looking for, and Thomas couldn't help but gasp.

And in a matter of moments, the dark furred Eevee was out of sight.

______________________________

Thomas stared tiredly onto his breakfast plate, touched as much as Thomas had slept last night. So, naturally, the plate was basically still full.

Roman was having the same issue, eating a bit before leaving the bowl of pokefood to the other two.

Neither could get their minds off the dark Eevee as it dashed back into the forest, obvious fear fueling each limb. They explained what they saw to Logan and Patton, but the shinies hadn't had that much contact with other pokemon, let alone an Eevee in a different forest.

They packed up and, after thanking the Nurse Joy, continued back into the forest.

Thomas' mind flicked back to last night, remembering the Eevee had ran away this direction. He wondered if the Eevee had a home out here, or if it was running back to the town. If it was the second option, the kiddo had a long two day journey ahead.

Roman nuzzled his cheek in understanding, Patton giving a small chirp of reassurement from his other shoulder. He felt Logan brush against his leg in comfort, feeling the anxiety come off in waves.

"Thanks guys" he laughed, giving Roman and Patton a few skritches, feeling Logan hop up onto his messenger bag. He gave a few to Logan before continuing down the path,

not noticing the violet eyes carefully watch the trainer walk away. A skitter of paws, and the curious pokemon followed.

______________________________

Thomas giggled as a purring Roman attempted to playfully swipe at a Butterfree, failing by a couple of feet as the Butterfree just fluttered higher. During their walk through the woods an enormous field of flowers caught their attention and before he knew what was happening, Patton was already playfully bouncing through them.

It was a wonderful sight, emerald green grass poked between hundreds of thousands of flowers, the rainbow spectrum shining off every petal. Delicate green stems dug into the rich soul as Butterfree, Combee, Cutiefly, and so many others drank nectar and fluttered in the sun. Zigzagoon, Oddish, Rattata, and more species of pokemon hopped around in the bright sun shining happily, gladly playing with Roman and Patton. A bright blue sky shone upon Thomas and Logan as they sat watching the others, soft white puffy clouds lazily drifted away by a warm breeze.

Since night had not been far off from the horizon as they found the place, Thomas set up the tent by a crystal blue pond as the Eevee's went around assuring they meant no harm. The stars shone brightly as more nocturnal pokemon came out, Thomas even catching Logan laying down on a large rock right by the ponds edge, staring wistfully at the sky as stars reflected in water. It was so peaceful Thomas had stop and watch as not a single ripple disturbed the water, waxing crescent moon shining far above, draping its light across the dark silver Eevee's fur.

Logan was still out there as Thomas fell asleep, but by morning was curled up on Thomas' chest with Patton and Roman.

Patton pawed at leaves from Oddish's head "so these are plants, but they've always been there?" He wondered, fascinated. The Oddish giggled and nodded as they heard a Vileplume call for its family. The little one hopped away, waving a leaf in goodbye and Patton chirped one back. He looked around exited, now who should he play with next-

Gray eyes met Violet.

Patton stared at the Eevee, remembering the description Thomas gave them

"It was dark outside, but over the trashcans there was a light. It looked like a dark brown furred Eevee, not a shiny dark grey like Logan but a darker Roman. I swear I saw saw Violet eyes stare back before it ran off."

Before the Eevee could repeat its actions Patton bounced happily over to it "hi!" He greeted excitedly.

"U-uh hi" the Eevee mumble shyly, shrinking back.

Patton took no offense "do you wanna play?" He asked, surprising the other "or pick flowers? Oh, or I can teach you how to make flower crowns! I was teaching Roman but he had kinda a hard time with it" the Eevee looked conflicted, not wanting to sadden the Pokepuff in front of him, but..

He glanced at Thomas "um.. sure, but c-can we stay away from the trainer?" Patton saddened only for a moment, before perking back up. He had wanted to introduce the Eevee to the others, but it was still a wild pokemon, and even most of the wild pokemon out playing with the Eevees stayed away from the human.

"Sure!" The Eevee seemed to relax a bit, following Patton to a patch of purple, light blue, red, and indigo flowers. He saw that Thomas noticed them, but was staying away with a smile.

"By the way, I'm Patton" he commented, showing the Eevee how to braid the stems together with their paws and teeth. Eevee looked up from a purple and light blue crown that was going well "you have a name? Does your trainer know?" "Oh, he gave me the name. He asked if I wanted one, and I liked it!" Patton grabbed another red flower, skillfully weaving it in "I think he asked Roman if he wanted a name too, when they first met" Patton flicked his tail to the bandanna wearing Eevee, currently pawing at the water in curiosity. Hearing his name, he popped up and looked around, only for his gaze to lock onto the dark furred Eevee in excitement.

He bounded over "hey!" He greeted, softly tapping Patton's head, who giggled in reply.

He plopped down next the silver Eevee, curiously staring as the dark furred Eevee shrunk in a little more. Patton sighed, flicking his tail at Roman as he returned to his flower crown "Roman, it's rude to stare" the Eevee blinked, not even realizing the action he was doing as he was enchanted by the others unique eyes.

After a bit, Patton sprang up holding his flower crown in his mouth, yet.. it seemed too big to fit on an Eevee. "Be right back" his muffled voice told the two as he trotted over to the trainer.

Eevee glanced up at Roman, who was uncurling having taken a nap against Patton, before turning to finish his flower crown to avoid eye connection. He'd never been good with others since.. her, only connecting with his family, like their souls were somehow connected. But then..

He remembered falling into a crate as he attempted to grab an apple, and then another crate being placed on top. He remembered hearing the cries of his family as the truck drove off, watching his family shrink smaller and smaller through a hole as the truck zoomed faster and faster.

As the crate opened to air he leapt out, only to appear into a place he didn't know. He'd realized at that moment he had to search for them find them again, running off before a human could grab his scruff. He could lose them, he couldn't lose his past.

He tied the last flower in place as Patton came back, only..

He froze as the human sat down next to Roman, now wearing a familiar flower crown. Another Eevee sat next to Patton, curiously tilting his head at the wild pokemon.

"Hey kiddo" the human spoke softly, as though sorry if he scared the Eevee. Ha, a trainer being sorry "just wanted to say hi, I didn't know why you ran off the other night so I was a bit worried" his voice sounded genuine, perhaps even happy for something, but Eevee didn't know if it was true.

Something though, for the first time, told him it was.

The new Eevee blinked behind his glasses "I see Patton has taught you how to make those flower crowns. An impressive feet for someone to learn with paws" Eevee shuffled to a sitting position "its not.. that good" he mumbled, poking the messy braided flowers.

"But it is!" Patton cried, jumping up causing Eevee to jolt back in fear "sorry" he apologized. "Really it is" the mystery Eevee commented, blinking as he realized something "I'm Logan by the way."

"More like Logay" Roman muttered "though truly, you did a splendid job. In all my attempts I haven't achieved the ability to even braid two flowers together" Eevee nodded, shyly but curiously looking at the trainer. He stayed quiet, legs crossed grinning like a Chansey until the Eevee's eyes met his.

"I'm guessing at least Logan introduced himself" he laughed "I'm Thomas" Eevee nodded, conflicted feelings raging inside.

"Hey bud, do you have a name?" The Eevee blinked in shock, needing the ground. He couldn't help but drop his ears as he shook his head, a tad ashamed. Thomas just smiled encouragingly "would you like one?"

Yes. He couldn't lie, he'd always wanted a name, but never felt the courage to name himself or admit this fact.

"you have a name? Does your trainer know?" "Oh, he gave me the name. He asked if I wanted one, and I liked it!"

But this trainer.. he had asked before he named the others. He could have forced one, whether they wanted it or not. Maybe..

Slowly, he nodded.

"Alright hmm.." Thomas seemed to actually think hard, as if this was the biggest decision he'd ever make.

What if it was really bad? What if he didn't like it but the trainer wanted to keep it so he was forced to know that that was his name for all existence? What if because of this the trainer would say he belongs to him now and force captures him and-

"Do you like the name Virgil?"

The Eevee stared. Virgil.. Virgil.. he..

Virgil looked up and nodded.

Thomas smiled, giggling a bit. He instinctively went to go pet Virgil, but stopped his hand. No, that wasn't his pokemon, and the poor little one acted extremely frightened.

"Sorry" he sheepishly apologized, thankful his hand didn't get far enough to scare the Eevee. It blinked at him before picking up a purple and blue flower crown. Huh, Patton must have shown him how.

And sure enough, the small Eevee cautiously walked forward, placing the flower crown on the light gray Eevee. It backed away and chirped, before turning away to the forest, yet..

It seemed to struggle, as though unable to move a paw away. Virigl shook his head before flicking his tail in goodbye, dashing off into the forest.

The Eevee's around him cried out at Thomas, wondering why the trainer let the pokemon leave, but Thomas just smiled.

"I know he'll come back" he softly said to no one in particular, the Eevee's looking at him in curiosity. He lifted his head up, staring as a small cloud passed above.

"It's his choice if he'll join, but I know it. Our puzzle piece will come back."

The purple eyed Eevee watched the team pack up, laughing together as Roman one last time inspected the water and Logan pushed him in. Virgil skirted around the pond, dashing to the other side of the forest, watching the team finish and continued walking down the path.

They didn't notice the dark furred Eevee follow from the shadows, connected souls carving his path.

'I've lost my past' he couldn't help but think, watching the team exit the forest. He darted after them, watching the team enter a Pokecenter. He curled in the shadows next to the building, front doors in view. Because he knew, somewhere in him, that this connection was to strong to run from. He didn't want to run from it. He smiled for the first time in a long time, curling up. 'Yes, I've lost my past

but found my future."

#sander sides #pokemon #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #fluff #flower crown #my writing #fanfic

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rebelliouslala · 5 years ago

Text

Helios

The hot summer sun is practically burning your back

and your travel from your small village to Athens just started

sure you didn’t rly get out often but goddamn this hill was HUGE

you were sUPER anxious to sell your load of fruit

you needed more fabric so you can become a weaver

because it’s ancient greece

yeah

today wasn’t the greatest day to go out since it was pretty sunny

and there were no clouds to help the sun not bake you

you still walk up towards a hill, pulling rly rly rly rly heavy bags of fruit

your brows were getting all sweaty

by the time you’re nearing the peak you look up at the sun to check the time

Problem was there was no sun

you’re kinda like, “? uhm, is the sun god Helios on a break?”

“Damn—”

There’s a loud metal clunk and a scream from the top of the hill

You stop on your path, looking near the peak of the hill, wondering what the fuck THAT was

u see this weird and large, bright yellow glow, and you gasp softly

“Hello? Sanha if you’re over there I’m going to kill you!” the voice is loud, making you stumble back

but you fall back, squealing softly once you realize your balance is uneven due to the fruit

“Hello?” someone says, hearing your fall

“Uh, yes?” You respond quietly

There’s a gasp, and the bright light dims

You look over at a handsome man

He smiles in relief it’s almost as bright as the light from earlier

wiping his brow he happily runs down from the top

his hair is messy and it bounces with each step

his skin is gorgeous

like what the hell you had okay skin but he was a really nice tan that you just adore

aphrodite must’ve blessed him

“Hello mortal! Or- er, sorry I don’t see mortals often.”

You gasp softly, and get on your knees, cursing yourself for being in awe

with

GOD

“F-Forgive me oh mystical one! Hello! It is an honor to meet you.”

u didn’t know wtf else to say

His touch is warm as he help you up, a frown on his face, “I don’t mind. And please don’t have to do that either.”

you look over, “Is that your chariot?”

“Yeah, my bastard cousin, or whatever, he starved my horses! MY horses! My precious Tony and Stark are so hungry they can’t fly.”

you push your bag of fruit in front of you, like an offering to the worried god “I don’t know what, uh, winged horse eat, but will this suffice?”

His face lights up, like the sun, and he takes it, “Oh my GODS yes it is you’re a literal life saver,”

he runs back with a squeal, and the glow becomes brighter, you shield your eyes instinctively until you feel an hand touch your arm

“I cannot thank you enough. if I didn’t get them anything the day would be VERY long, and i’m so tired,” he pouts

oh my god ur heart almost combusted he looks so babie

“of course, uh,” you finally feel a little regret since he just took a whole bag from you, so now you would get less fabric

“Say, where are you going?” he asks, grabbing your bag and holding it, and you can see his arms bulging oh-

“uh, am i scaring you or-?”

you snap back into reality and gulp, “Oh, well, I was going to Athens,” you point, kinda in the west

honestly all you know is to follow the path

“that’ll take two days!” the man cries, and he tsks, dragging you with the other arm “I’LL take you, besides I owe you one,”

you sigh in relief because you were probably like half a day journey’s in and you wanted to die

“thank you so much, sun god,”

“call me Myung Jun, or MJ!” he smiles wide, flashing his pretty teeth

you have to look away because sweetie you turned redder than the goddamn sea

see what i did there okay sorry

you look at a huge chariot, in front are two pure white pegasus -pegasi? ack- and you pull away to pet them

after all who meets winged horses everyday

“that’s Stark, the one next to him is Tony,”

“What odd names,” you mumble, before Stark bows her head to you

you smile wide as Tony nudges you with his head

you giggle and you look at the fruit they haven’t really finished, so you offer an apple

Tony takes a huge bite, making you laugh louder, and talk to him

now it’s the sun god’s turn to blush

he has definitely met mortal women before, but you make him all >~<

usually mortals want to get laid with him

But you were here being soft with his horses and that was just so adorable

“So, uh, we better get on,” MJ kinda mumbles, and you get on

“You might wanna cover your eyes”

“Why?”

“We gods are very powerful, and mortals that witness it can often go mad, that or we just obliterate them”

god. damn. you obey, since you at least have some sort of will to live

especially with this flaming hunk beside you

you feel some sort of warmth rush down your body like chills

you fall back when the chariot takes off

“okay, open your eyes, are you okay?!” he helps you up, and look at him

now you can see he truly was a god, on his head is a yellow crown, and he just looks so flawless you wanna kiss him

aphrodite was definitely messing with you what the hell

you look at his face instead as you try to control yourself

because bro he’s a god why would he like you???

so you nod, and he helps you sit on your bag, holding the reigns to the chariot

you and he are already WAY back up in the air, and the wind is cool and pretty friendly overall, despite the high height

“So, why Athens?” he ties to the reigns to the side of his gold chariot, sitting in front of you and taking your fruit

You gesture to the bag, standing up, “That, I uh, I need fabric to start to weave”

“you don’t have sheep? Gaia made all of that for you!” he pouts

you giggle from his pout, shaking your head, pointing to where your village was

“we’re too poor to afford that, so i grow the fruit,”

MJ stands up and widens his eyes, “What? I just ate and used your fruit for my horses! this won’t be enough!”

you try and explain to him it’s fine

like he’s a god why is he worried about you???

bug he shakes his head

“no, listen, uh,” he leans over his chariot, to like the back of it where he keeps his harp

problem is

he’s leaning over YOU

you kinda knew it was weird but you took a breath in

he smells sweet, you couldn’t put your finger on it, but it’s the sweetest smell ever

you could kind of assume ambrosia

but he pulls away before you can come to a conclusion, leaving you all pink

he pulls out a long and wide, glittering fabric

“i’ve had this for so long, usually we save this stuff for like heroes, but uh,” he hands it to you, and you can see it’s sme sort of gold colored silk

your mind rushes to all sorts of ideas to weave on it as he smiles, “if you cut a piece of it off, it regrows itself to be the same exact size as it’s first piece, it’s endless”

you dont even realize you’ve teared up when you embrace him, “I-I don’t even know what to say, this is the best gift Ive ever recieved!”

MJ turns RED and he hugs you too, nodding, “you deserve it,” he mumbles

you and he sort of just lay in each other’s arms for the rest of the day

the sun god makes you laugh so hard your stomach hurts

he even teases you when you snort, leaving you to never stop laughing

however, because of his speedy chariot, you’ve arrived to Athens already

by this time there’s only a few hours until MJ has to set his chariot off at his palace

he lands on a hill, and he helps you off

he secretly puts a charm on the bag so it’s not heavy for you to carry

“Myung Jun,” you say, and you smile wide when he turns pink as the dawn

literally his little sister, Eos is like a few hours away you can see her

“Thank you, for everything, I’ve never had any fun like this, and, I thank you for your gifts,”

MJ holds your hand, and his heart lurches to his throat

before you can pull away, MJ holds you close for another warm embrace

You both hold each other for felt like ages, which is just what you needed as a goodbye

you smelling his ambrosia scent, and him taking in the feeling of just

you

“Hey,” he mumbles

“Yes?” you say into his chest, before looking up

“maybe, I can pick you up from that hill we met, I’m thinking the day after tomorrow? when you come back from athens?’

MJ rubs the back of his neck and says quietly, “I would love to show you my palace,”

you smile, lean up to kiss his pretty sun kissed cheek as you mumble back, “I would love that,”

#mj #mj astro #astro #astro fluff #myung jun #astro fanfic #astroimagine #kpopimagines #fanfiction #kpop fan fiction #fluff #astro mj

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