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buckyownsmylife · 2 years

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fuckboy - chapter xxii

The one where Chris only wanted to fuck you and you were alright with that.

Chris never promised anything more than what he had to offer: a release - and a good one at that. Recently widowed and new to Hollywood, you’re eager to learn how to live the single life with the help of such a talented teacher. What happens when Chris is the one to start expecting more from the relationship than you are prepared to offer?

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Chris’s P.O.V.

I smiled, blowing at the steam coming from the scorching mug of coffee my mom had just poured for me. It was so great to see her again, verify that she was in fact okay, even though I knew it. Even though I’d seen her, spoken to her through facetime, nothing could really compare to being right there, under her care.

“So, how were these first few months of quarantine? I don’t know how you didn’t go insane with anxiety, I was worried about how you would take this.” I smiled to myself as I thought back on Y/N and how she’d been the reason why I didn’t go completely crazy. I hadn’t actually told ma about her - didn’t want to raise her expectations about something I didn’t know where it was headed, but now that we’d spent four months living together, I felt comfortable enough to talk to her about it.

I actually needed her help. If there was anyone who knew me better than myself, it was her. So I told her everything. The safe-for-work version, of course. But I told her about how Y/N and I had been kind of together way before Disney, and how everything changed after that.

How I had screwed things up. How she forgave me to take care of me once the pandemic started. By the end of it, my cheeks were flushed, but I was more than relieved to have shared this with someone, especially someone I cared about so much.

Until she said the words I was dreading to see verbalized.

“You’re in love with her.” Weirdly, once it was out, they didn’t seem as terrifying. Sure, my heart was pounding and my hands were sweaty, but I couldn’t wipe this stupid grin off of my face.

Was this what love felt like?

My mom didn’t seem to have any doubts about it. “Why didn’t you bring her?” She asked, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “I would have loved to have her over. I’m sure she would have enjoyed it, too.”

A feeling of dread rushed through me, like a bucket of ice cold water had been dropped over my head. My smile faltered, and I was sure my mom noticed, so I forced myself to swallow around the lump that appeared in my throat as I admitted, “Oh, I… I didn’t even think to ask her.”

There was a short silence after my confession, and I felt judged as my mother’s gaze burned me, but I kept my eyes fixed on the mug I still held. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I started babbling, clearing my throat as I tried to justify it, “I’ve never… You know I’ve never brought a girl back home before. And I was so excited to see you, I didn’t even…”

And so it hit me, the realization of how exactly I’d left her. In my bed, after I’d just almost told her that I loved her.

After I called her mine.

Shame washed over me so bitterly, I couldn’t even look my mother in the eye.

“So she spent months living with you, taking care of you, overcoming her own feelings about the fight you t had in Florida and once travel restrictions were lifted…” She didn’t even need to finish it, I did so in my head.

I left her alone.

My silence was telling. But instead of anger, my mother sighed, and I saw her shake her head from the corner of my eyes. “Chris,” she called out to me, “If you have any expectations of ever being able to count on her like that again…”

And I did. Lord, I wanted to count on her for everything, every day of my life. The realization had me jumping up from the chair, instinctively looking for my phone. I needed to talk to her.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I repeated, my leg shaking as I listened to the phone ring. “Please, pick up!” It was getting harder to breathe by each beep, until it reached voicemail and I closed my eyes in agony.

“Maybe she’s busy,” my mother offered, rubbing my back. “Try not to read too much into it, hm? She’ll get back to you when she can.” But I was too overwhelmed by my own stupidity not to immediately turn off the call and try again. Panting, I hear the phone do the same thing at leas twice, until the third time, the call simply didn’t go through.

“Fuck.” A part of me had honestly believed my mother was right. She was just busy and once she saw my name on her phone, she’d reach out to me and I’d have the opportunity to apologize, maybe even convince her to get on a plane and join me here.

But now I knew the truth. And it was that she’d realized how much of a screw-up I was, and she had enough of me now. Meanwhile, here I was, wanting to hold her and see her face, pathetically clinging to my phone and pressing redial, hoping she would change her mind and pick it up.

Or at the very least, unblock me so I could hear it ring, keeping alive the hope that she’d one day forgive me.

“Mom, can you help me look for plane tickets back to New York? I need to find the next one, do you think they would sell it on the counter…” My voice was drowned by the television she had turned on as I spoke, taking in the news that once again, traveling had been prohibited.

I was stuck in Boston with no way to reach her.

#chris evans x reader #chris evans angst #chris evans series #chris evans rpf #rpf #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans reader insert #chris evans reader #chris evans reader inserts #chris evans fics #chris evans series fic

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narumi-gens · 3 years

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Okay but would Naoya have a secret breeding kink when blue ball queen was dirty talking him about “filling her up” or would he just be infuriated 👁 👄 👁

note: even a broken computer isn't enough to keep me from digging in the trash 😣 warnings: smut, impreg kink, misogyny (naoya, duh) words: 1.7k (because I’m the trash queen) related drabbles

As Naoya watches you underneath him, practically folded in half from the way he's pushing your knees to your chest with his hands on the backs of your thighs, he finds himself angrier than usual.

But for once, he can't blame it on you despite how much he wants to. He can't blame it on your disrespectful mouth that never shuts up or your inability to recognize him as your better.

No, he's angry at himself. Because instead of focusing on the way your tits bounce with every brutal thrust or how your fingers are furiously rubbing at your swollen clit or the string of moans escaping you, all he can pay attention to is your stomach.

Or more precisely, all he can pay attention to is the thought of what it would look like if he didn't pull out like he usually does.

The last thing he wants is for you to end up pregnant with his kid. He doesn't need any bastard kids running around, especially not ones that would tie him to you for the rest of his life.

But the thought pumping you so full of his cum that your pussy is overflowing is too tempting for him to ignore. He imagines your stomach swelling, your tits getting big, your body changing like nature intended because of him.

In spite of himself, he finds his hips pounding into your ass even harder as his grip on your thighs tightens.

He wants to be the one to show you that all you're good for besides fucking is getting pregnant and having kids. He wants to force you to accept that you are truly the weaker sex by design. He’ll make you see that any notions you have about "self-worth" and "agency" are nothing more than misconceptions.

He’ll turn you from a foul-mouthed, ill-tempered, disrespectful jujutsu sorcerer into a wife and mother who bows her head when she talks to him and knows her place.

The thought of breaking you in is so tantalizing that it almost has him coming on the spot.

"Gonna show ya," he pants, his eyes squeezing shut as his mind paints the image of you so fucking big with his kid on the backs of his eyelids. "Ya ain't good fer anything else."

"Shut up," you're quick to reply between moans, but it only urges him on. You won't be so mouthy when you're taking care of his kids, when you're cleaning up after them, when you're breastfeeding them.

He lets out a low groan as he pictures how big your tits will get when they’re full of milk for his kid. It's enough to push him over the edge and before he knows what he's doing, his burying himself as deep as he can inside of you and coming with an almost animalistic growl.

His hips give a few jerks as he fills you with his cum, his hold now so tight on your thighs that finger-shaped bruises are a guarantee. His shoulders rise and fall rapidly as tries to catch his breath.

When he lets his cock slip from you, he can't tear his eyes away from the way his cum slowly leaks out of your messy cunt and trails down the crack of your ass. He continues to hold you in place for a few moments longer before collapsing onto his back beside you in bed with a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, already reflecting back on how that may have been the hardest he's ever come before. He pointedly ignores the fact that imagining you pregnant with his kid was the cause.

But while he's busy luxuriating in the aftermath of his orgasm, he's completely ignorant to the storm brewing beside him.

"You fucking came inside me!" you shout, sitting up in bed and hitting him hard in the face with the pillow that you had been using.

He recovers quickly and grabs it from you so that he can place it behind his own head with a smirk.

"Yeah? And?" he asks, his tone bored. He watches you from the corner of his eye as you angrily get out of bed and pick a discarded shirt up from the floor that you slip over your head.

"You're so fucking lucky I'm on the pill," you hiss as you storm off to the bathroom, loudly slamming the door shut behind you.

"Good! That means I don't gotta keep pulling outta ya anymore!" he yells after you with a sadistic grin. He wonders what you're more upset over -- that he came inside of you or that you didn't get to come.

You're only gone for a few minutes. He hears the toilet flushing and the water running before the door opens and you come back into the bedroom.

"You're fucking useless," you mutter and he closes his eyes as he stretches with a loud yawn. "I should've just gone with my vibrator. It doesn't have a mouth and doesn't make a mess. And it also makes me come every time."

"That ain't my job," he scoffs, a truly amused smirk playing at his lips at the idea that he's here for your pleasure.

He cracks an eye open when he hears you sliding opening the door to the balcony just off your bedroom. He catches just a glimpse of you holding something in your arms before you disappear onto the balcony for a few moments. When you return, your arms are empty.

He watches you as you pick up his boxer briefs before slinging them at his face. His reflexes are quick enough that catching them before they hit him is an easy feat.

"Get the fuck out," you say without sparing him a second glance on your way out of the bedroom and he chuckles to himself. Frustrating you is almost as gratifying as sex.

His amusement persists even as he sits up and slides on his boxer briefs. But it doesn’t last much longer because he’s quick to see that your bedroom floor is now empty, his clothes nowhere in sight.

He glances at the sliding glass door that’s still open and his eyes widen when he suddenly remembers that you had carried something onto the balcony, only to come back without it.

No.

You couldn’t possibly have.

No.

In the blink of an eye and with the speed he’s known for, he’s on your balcony and tightly gripping onto the railing as he searches the mostly-empty street below. When he sees his shirt, kimono, and hakama scattered on the sidewalk, pure rage explodes in his gut.

“Fucking BITCH!” he yells with no care for your neighbors or the late hour.

He’s moving so quickly that in the back of his mind he wonders if it’s the fastest he’s ever been. One moment he’s on your balcony and a millisecond later, he has you pinned on your back on the couch where you were sitting.

He straddles your hips as he wraps a hand around your throat, his grip growing tighter when he sees how your eyes are dancing with mirth.

“You already up for another round?” you ask, a slight wheeze to your voice from how hard he’s squeezing your throat. His fury is so all-consuming that he doesn’t even notice the way his cock twitches.

“You fucking bitch,” he seethes. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

You raise an eyebrow at how his anger actually has his Kansai accent easing, like his ire is great enough that it’s actually able to override any pronunciations and verbal ticks.

“Well, before you do that, you might wanna go get your clothes,” you point out, sounding almost bored. “The bars are getting ready to close and all it takes is one person who can’t hold their alcohol before they’re throwing it all up.”

He wants to argue with you, call you a bitch some more, and punish you for thinking you have the right to talk to him like this and treat him this way. But he also knows you’re right. He needs to recover his clothing or else all he’ll have to wear on his way home is a tight pair of boxer briefs.

“It shouldn’t be too hard to get them back for the world's fastest sorcerer," you mock with a rasp and he lets his hand close even tighter for a few moments, wanting you to think your life is truly in danger, before he releases you.

He’s gone before you even know what’s happening and he’s already halfway through getting dressed by the time you make it out onto the balcony to watch him struggle. He ignores the heat of your gaze on him, as well as the stares of the few passersby who stumble upon the bizarre scene playing out in the middle of the street.

“Oi! Zen’in-sama!” you shout down to him as ties his hakama. He refuses to acknowledge that he’s heard you, although how could not have with how loud your voice carries. It’s enough to catch the attention of everyone down below. The mocking tone is gone with your next words, your voice as cold as ice. “I know my cunt’s so sweet that it’s hard to resist, but the next time you come inside of me without permission, I’ll cut your balls off so that you can’t make that mistake again.”

He looks up at your balcony, but you’re already gone. He growls to himself, seething that despite everything, you’ve still somehow managed to not only end up with the last word, but also to have humiliated him.

Now that he’s no longer buried ball deep inside of you, he can think with a clearer head and even through his anger, there’s an irritating note of relief that you’re on the pill.

It’s already bad enough that he can’t seem to give up your pussy, but that’s at least a habit he hopes to one day break. A kid would keep you in his life permanently.

A chill runs down his spine at the idea, disgust curling in his stomach. He tries to ignore the hint of arousal that lurks just underneath it.

#it's trash day #naoya zenin #naoya zenin x reader #zenin naoya #zenin naoya x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk spoilers #jjk hc #hate fuck!naoya

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thevibraniumveterans · 3 years

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I’ve discovered something interesting…

… about the way Loki talks about his mother.

In Thor: The Dark World, we get a little scene where Frigga - through some form of illusionistic sorcery - appears in Loki’s cell in the dungeon to speak with him.

Loki, sardonically: “Odin continues to bring me new friends. How thoughtful.”

Frigga: “The books I sent, did they not interest you?”

Loki: “Is that how I’m to while away for eternity? Reading?”

Frigga: “I’ve done everything in my power to make you comfortable, Loki.”

Loki: “Have you? Does Odin share your concern? Does Thor? It must be so inconvenient, then, asking after me day and night.”

Frigga: “You know full well that it was your actions that brought you here.”

Loki: “My actions? I was merely giving truth to the lie that I’ve been fed my entire life: that I was born to be a king.”

Frigga: “A king? A true king admits his faults. What of the lives you took on Earth?”

Loki: “A mere handful compared to the number that Odin has taken himself.”

Frigga: “Your father-”

Loki, verbally exploding from years of repressed anger, sadness, and a whole host of other emotions: “HE IS NOT MY FATHER!!”

Frigga, after a small pause: “Then am I not your mother?”

Loki, after a sad exhale, “… you’re not.”

Frigga, smiling sadly but knowingly: “You’re always so perceptive about everyone but yourself.”

Loki shakes his head remorsefully, and reaches out to his mother, whose illusion slowly fades away.

In the third episode of the Loki series, we see our titular anti-hero onboard a train, talking to Sylvie, when they have a conversation about Frigga and magic.

Sylvie: “I’m not going to waste my time rooting around for the Tempad when someone taught you fairly decent magic.”

Loki: “… my mother.”

Sylvie, after a contemplative pause: “What was she like?”

Loki, quietly and thoughtfully: “She was, um, a Queen of Asgard. She’s good. Purely decent.”

Sylvie: “Are you sure she’s your mother?”

Loki: “Oh, no, she’s not, actually. I was adopted. Is that a bit of a spoiler for you? I’m sorry about that.”

Sylvie: “No, I knew I was adopted.”

Loki: “What? They told you?”

Sylvie: “…Yeah. Did they not tell you?”

Loki: “No! I mean, I mean, they did, eventually…. Hang on a second. So, tell me, who, tell me about your mother.”

Sylvie: “I barely remember her. Just blips of a dream at this point.”

Loki: “You know, when I was young, she’d do these little bits of magic for me. Like, turn a flower into a frog, or cast fireworks over the water. And it all seemed impossible, but she told me that one day, I’d be able to do it too, because… because I can do anything.” Sylvie nods. “Want to see?” Sylvie nods again, so Loki smiles as he conjures up a miniature version of the fireworks, the kind that his mother used to do for him.

Sylvie: “Not bad.” Loki ends the little show.

Loki: “She was the kind of person who’d want to believe in you.”

Sylvie: “Sounds like she does.”

Loki: “Well, she did.”

I love the contrast between both sets of conversations, because the first one was just before Frigga was murdered. Loki’s attitude toward his mother when he spoke with her, was admittedly cold - expected of someone like him who’d once stated that he’d been nothing more than a mere shadow living in the shade of Thor’s and Odin’s greatness. I don’t have much of a doubt that not just did it break Frigga’s heart to ask her wayward son if he considered her to be his mother, it also broke Loki’s heart to say, “You’re not”.

Which, in a twisted way, is actually true, since Frigga is not Loki’s biological mother. But it’s not so much who created him, but the focus is on who raised him, who looked after him, who clothed him, fed him, raised him, taught him magic, LOVED him the way Odin could never have. When you watch the scene when Loki says, “You’re not,” and just focus on his face in the next half a minute after, he’s shaking his head in remorse, his eyes are downcast, his posture no longer holding in that rage that he’d just released after proclaiming Odin to not be his father, which in the same twisted way is also true.

Loki knew full well that Frigga loved him to the ends of the universe and back, why else would she have sent books down to the dungeon for him? She literally made the place more comfortable for him.

Now, when we get to the series, at which point the episode must’ve taken place roughly not long after Frigga died in the main timeline (which Loki had seen the reel of), Loki spoke of his mother in soft tones, openly and honestly. He did - when Sylvie asks whether Frigga was really his mother - admit, rather matter-of-factly, that, “Oh, no, she’s not, actually. I was adopted.” Here, he doesn’t display any of the hurt and anger, but gives a simple statement, that yes, it’s true, Frigga was not in fact his mother in the sense that she was not his biological mom.

But then, he goes on to tell Sylvie about how Frigga taught him magic when he was young, and that she believed in him. It’s clear to us that Loki was clearly a momma’s boy, because we get to know, through how he speaks of her, how much he still loves his mother, and how much she loved him, up until the very end. Loki reveals that his mother “was the kind of person who’d want to believe” in him, which is what “she did”, confirms Loki. Though he knows that it’s unlikely he’ll ever see his mother again, he speaks of and about her with reverence, respect, and a whole lot of love, tinged with sadness around the edges.

Though Frigga never was, never is, and never will be Loki’s biological mother, she was his mother regardless, in the sense that she raised him as her own son in a way that Odin never did.

Though Frigga could never mend the hole in Loki’s heart, she filled it with so much love and care and attention, not to mention magic.

Though Loki mourned his mother’s death in both the main timeline and in the TVA’s Time Theatre outside of time and space, he spoke highly and fondly of her even though he was not her biological son.

Loki had always loved his mother, because it was clear as day to him that she had always loved him, right from the very beginning, up until the very end.

Though Frigga may have died, her spirit certainly lives on in her beloved son Loki.

Though Loki would always be Laufey’s son by acknowledging his creator, and though he may refuse to admit that he is Odin’s son (which we know he eventually did in his main timeline), Loki - our beloved Prince of Asgard, rightful king of Jotunheim, and God of Mischief to boot - will always and forever be Frigga’s son.

After all…

What is grief if not love persevering?

#thor the dark world #queen frigga #loki laufeyson #loki series #loki episode three #loki spoilers #sylvie laufeydottir #s01e3 #what is grief #if not love persevering #love is #not a dagger #that’s a #terrible metaphor #mother’s love #long text post #analysis

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theinariakuma · 4 years

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My Take on the Obey Me Boys

So. I was talking with @voltagesmutter She always gets my stuff that I possibly may post as well as just fragments of fics that may or may not come to be. After seeing the amazing bondage images here I broke down my take on the guys after sending her a small Lucifer piece inspired by the image.

She suggested I post my take on the guys because she liked how I broke them down.

I have not finished up to Chapter 40. I am currently stuck at Chapter 22. So anything that may be proven/disproven in future chapters.

So spoilers about Lilith and Belphegor (See Belphegor and Beelzebub’s) and Satan.

These are all my personal opinions and takes on the characters and why they act the way they do and how they need to be handled. If you’d like to see them, please view under the cut.

Lucifer:

Lucifer is a caretaker. He is a fixer. He is the person you go to to get a more parental/authoritative help. This is part of why he holds his pride in such a high regard. People go to him because he is the person they can rely on. However, because of this, he sacrifices his own self care, both health wise and emotionally. It gets to the point he probably does not know how to let go and the moment he does give up that control, that emotional surrender will take so much of pent up feelings and break him down. It will be a time that the Avatar of Pride will realize that surrendering his pride to the one he trusts, the one he loves, is not as scary, not the humiliation he thought it would have been, so long as he was accepted and his letting go was treated with the respect it deserves.

Mammon:

Mammon has what I think could easily be classified as Middle child syndrome. The idea of “never being good enough” compared to his older brother and younger brothers. He acts out for the attention he gets, he is the personification of any attention is good attention, even if it leads to the emotional and verbal abuse of him being called “stupid,” “scum,” “idiot,” and so on. He is probably the second most sacrificing out of the seven. Unlike Lucifer, who gets recognized for what he does, Mammon does not receive this recognition, leaving him attention deprived in every sense of the word. Despite his words, Mammon shows MC nothing but patience and in his own way, care towards them despite the occasional comment. He, like Asmo, has never turned his anger on MC in the way his siblings has. He has never turned his Demon form on MC in aggression. This boy gets flustered because he doesn’t know how to take kind words, does not know how to take a gentle touch. If his own brothers don’t respect him, why would other demons? So when he is given pure, gentle affection in terms of touches, love, kind words, he has no defense other then to try and brush it off and put himself into an outside role. It is often “The Great Mammon” not “me”. It would take time for him to truly accept that the words, the love, the affection, and attention are meant for him.

Leviathan:

Levi is someone I see as contact deprived. He, in my opinion, is the personification of, “If I don’t do it, it can’t hurt me” in a way. He finds acceptance in the 2D because they won’t turn him down. They won’t deny him love, attention, and kind words. For him, that is something that is priceless so he’ll spend as much money as he can to keep that happy feeling from it. Ruri is so important to him because she has been the one to accept him through his otaku nature. (Something I believe many fans of Obey me and other Otome Games can probably relate to). Looking over all of the boys, Belphegor, Satan, and Leviathan are the ones who do not have wings as Demons (See Satan’s post for spoilers). One could assume that they lost them when they changed from Angels to Demons. It is possible that he feels like he is no longer complete, and finding comfort in the 2D is what helps him go through his life, because it will love him no matter what, whereas real people can and possibly would reject him. So, it will take a massive amount of patience and persistence to convince this boy he is loved by someone that is real. It will take a lot of contact when he is okay with it, a lot of affirmation. He’ll degrade himself, he won’t believe someone could love him, likely because he doesn’t even love himself. Consistency will be something he needs and even when he gets frustrating, being angry at him can cause him to turn back in on himself.

Satan:

Spoilers for Satan’s Creation. Skip if you do not want spoilers.

Satan is the only one of the boys that was not an Angel. Created from Lucifer’s Anger, his wrath, there will always be a looming sense of the fact that he is not his own person. Unintentionally, this likely makes him more angry, especially when he ends up being more and more like Lucifer. He lives off the notion that knowledge is power, and because of that he buries himself in his own personal library that is called his room. He reads everything and anything he can get his hands on, letting himself get lost in the tales, the lives of fictional beings. This is likely the place where he learned how to have contact with people outside of his brothers. His family, Lucifer and the others, are a fractured bunch, despite that they do love one another, however, it does not leave the idea of social skills. Satan is likely faced on a daily basis with his own inferiority complex, and his way to battle that is by locking away his emotions because he probably does not know how to truly handle things outside of anger, in which he could easily pick a fight with one of the others. He’ll understand the notions of love, happiness, pleasure, fear, and so on, but it could be assume because how closed off the rest of the brothers are to the rest of the world outside of Diavolo and the few they interact with, Satan has never experienced these things first hand. His own emotions will surprise him, so he needs to be treated with care, especially once he opens someone up to his world, the safe place among the books. He won’t take well to teasing when he does show it unless it is all in good manner, something that is finished off with tender words and soft soothing that it is okay. That his feelings are his own and they are okay.

Asmodeus:

Asmo is someone who hides behind his looks. He knows he is beautiful and it is often shown just how much care he puts into his physical appearance through diets, skincare, clothes, and so on. However, despite this, it does not seem that Asmo makes any personal connections, only physical. He likely has never felt someone love him for him, love him for who he is under all of the care. He possibly is self conscious of being clingy emotionally. There is a running question if Asmo understands the difference between the idea of love and actual love. He needs someone who sees past the skin deep appearances, who could see him at his worst and call him beautiful, who wants him beyond the physical. He needs someone who will take care of his needs emotionally. Aggressive isn’t the word I would use about him, because he is not going to force anyone into anything, but he does push the idea of being physically intimate. He needs someone who can say no. Someone to show him what love is as much as they need to take care of his emotions. Rejection will likely baffle him because he knows how beautiful he is, how appealing he is, and if you’re attracted to him physically, he’ll notice. If you say no, despite all of this, if you explain you want to know him for him, it is likely he won’t understand how to take it.

Beelzebub:

Spoilers for Lilith’s story and Beel’s story during the Celestial War.

Beel is a protector, he sacrifices on a physical level. He loved fully and completely and that is probably the scariest thing to him. Because he knows just how big and strong he is and he knows how openly he wears his heart once someone knows him. He’d die before he let someone hurt someone important to him. Beel threw himself in front of his twin, and he blames himself and believes Belphie to blame him for not taking the deadly shot for Lilith. Beel is someone who loves easily, which is why he’ll come off aggressive or even distant when someone meets him, as seen with MC. He knows he wants to protect people, but his duty is to his family first. His sin, his gluttony, also often upsets people. His brothers go out of their way to stop him from raiding the fridge, on one of his Devilgram he is even scolded for sleep eating. He makes comments to MC that he does not feel as hungry when they are around, which leads to the conclusion, his gluttony is fueled by his emotions. He feels an emptiness early on. Belphie is not around, his steady guilt about Lilith, so he tries to fill this void created by his own emotions by eating. Beel is someone that deserves all of the love and praise. He will always be gluttonous, that is who he is. Helping him find a way to manage it without belittling him is perfect way to help care and show love for him. Understand he loves his family, and he would never want to be forced to choose between them. Beel and his brothers, especially Belphie, come as a packaged deal.

Belphegor:

Spoilers for Lilith’s story prior to the Celestial War and Belphie’s release from the room. ( I believe Chapter 16?)

Belphie was, in the Celestial realm, the baby among the brothers. He was able to get away with a lot of things, which was how he was able to sneak away so often that it had caused Lilith to grow curious. After Lilith’s death, that adoration and love for the human kind turned bitter in his chest. All of the good they had brought him had corrupted in the depth of his soul. His freedom was gone along with his sister, and that was a guilt that would weigh on his soul for several reasons. Beel had protected him rather than Lilith, and Belphie would likely blame himself because of all of this had been started because she followed his example and went to the Human Realm. After his actions towards MC, after killing them before Barbatos’ actions, the self-loathing will return in full force because he nearly killed off someone that had treated him with kindness, that knew his sins... that had been related to his reborn sister. He won’t know how to let go of his control, it would be all he has. It is why he will come off as aggressive or even aloof towards people at times. Belphie likely will have two ways to handle his emotions, full force release or resistance. If he trusts the person, they’ll see Belphie go into full cling. He’ll often cling to the person, trusting them fully because it is all he feels he could offer. Himself. It is also why if he does not have that trust with someone he will come off as aggressive and sharp. Belphie will always hold his regrets close to his chest, he needs someone to affirm that if he has been forgiven or not and if he hasn’t what he can do to earn that forgiveness. He needs to be treated with kid gloves in terms of being gentle in tone, but do not sugar coat it. He needs to be told if he is upset someone, if he has hurt them and he’ll likely need to know why, he is not the type to understand the weight of his words or actions until after it is done. He needs clear communication and open affection.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me beel #Obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me satan #character take #personal opinions #Akuma Talks

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ecofinisher · 3 years

Text

Stuff I noticed at Snow Queen Fire & Ice and Miraculous Ladybug 😀

I just had to. Even if it is a waste of time. 😅I've done one a long while ago between Miraculous and Monster Buster Club. This one had to be done as well, all just because of those small, little spirits 🥺😥

To be clear, I’m not comparing it to what is better and whatnot. I’m comparing the similarities between the two. The spirits there made me think of the kwamis? Funny I didn't pay attention to it at first xD But then the fun part came......Three times I have watched the movie and I suddenly began to think......Hmm Gerda has the creation powers like Ladybug and Rollan destruction......Holy brick! They could be the lovesquare as well if they had added more romance into it 😂 How did I not see? (It's because you saw Kristanna mixed with Hansanna you nut)

So where do I start? Well just to summarize the shows for those who don’t know one/both of them:

Short info about both, if unfamiliar:

Miraculous Ladybug is a French animated TV show, that debuted in 2015 and is set in the modern metropole Paris and is focused on the lives of the clumsy Marinette Dupain-Cheng and the famous teeny-model Adrien Agreste. Both wield special magical jewelry, which is called a “Miraculous” which they use to transform into the superheroes “Ladybug and Cat Noir” The two don’t know each other’s identity, but funnily Adrien has a huge crush on Ladybug and in the civilian life he sees her as just a friend, while Marinette is obsessed with Adrien and sees Cat Noir only as his trustful crime-fight partner. Both students are around 14 years old in the show.

As superheroes they fight villains, that were akumatized by Hawk Moth. (He owns the butterfly miraculous, with which he can create supervillains by sending an akuma (Butterfly jinxed by Hawk Moth’s magic) and Hawk Moth’s miraculous sends people’s negative feelings such as anger, sadness and disappointment and uses his akumas to follow them and akumatize them and they’re transformed by Hawk Moth into a specific-themed supervillain.

Snow Queen 3: Fire and Ice (Release year: 2016)

Snow Queen 3: Fire and Ice is the third installment of the Russian franchise "The Snow Queen" It consisted currently out of 4 movies, an upcoming 5th installment, and a pre-school TV show. The first movie came out in 2012 and was also the studio's very first movie.

Resume from the first two movies is the young girl Gerda, which lost her parents to the Snow Queen makes her way through the entire snow lands to find her younger brother Kai, which was kidnapped y the north wind. With help of Orm, Snow Queen's servant she makes her way up to the Palast and defeats her, saving her brother and waking up Orm's eyes to a "better world" The sequel is focused on Orm's continuation, which makes a promise to never lie again and this promise made a reflection of himself come to life and appear near him, when he had no idea, what to do with life issues. The more he began to create white lies and bigger lies, the more life his reflection gained until he was able to get out to the real world. The reflection, which calls itself "The Snow King" tricks Orm and leads a fight against Troll warriors by sending his ice-made minions. Gerda was the last warrior to enter and make it to the main hall of the palace to miss Orm, which was fading away due to Snow King's existence and he pretends to be an injured Orm, which is warmly embraced by the girl, but then gets frozen by him, not realizing she had fallen into a trap. When things were over for everyone and the bad guys had won, Orm figured out how he would make everything okay by confessing his mistakes, which erased Snow King from existence and unfroze all warriors and friends again, which were angered at the naive troll.

This is lowkey spoiler-free. I didn't want to go into much detail here, but I would suggest you watch these movies, mostly no. 2 and 3, which are really worth seeing. As well you can see the first and see how much the studio had improved since the first up to the 2 and 3 one.

The Fire and Ice one, I'm supposed to be talking about happens a few years later, Gerda and Kai left the orphanage to go live on their own and make money to be able to at least be able to eat. Their last visit didn't make any profit and they took a ride with an old friend of theirs Alfida (The Robber girl) to pass the night by Orm, their troll friend, which had matured and was responsible to babysit the triplets of his cousin. On said night, a Spanish boy named Rollan shows up by his doorstep and is introduced to the visitors as a friend he met shortly. After the dinner ended in a disaster Kai and Gerda split and Rollan followed Gerda to give her rights, then bonded with her from being looking for his mother as well and introduces her to a map with an artifact called "The Wishing Stone" which grants any wish. Gerda agrees in tagging along and together they make it to survive the dangerous tomb encountering the wishing stone. Fact is the wishing stone was something else and this is where the powers of the Snow Queen and the Fire Demon were kept and due to Gerda and Rollan's touch on the stone, it had awakened the spirits, getting the two infected with the powers of said villains. Soon as they find out with Orm what happened, they need to get back to the tomb to retrieve the powers before the north star rises and makes their transformation complete, which means both would lose their soul/bodies to the villain. .

Random info:

1. The most popular franchise of the studio aka knowns for:

Miraculous is mostly know to be addressed as a ZAG animation product, but other known studios have worked on it as well such as SAMG Animation, TOEI and Method Animation.

Currently, the most popular series produced in France.

The Snow Queen 3 is the overall fifth movie released by Wizart Animation and was on its release the studio's best-grossing movie so far. Currently, the studio's filmography contains about 8 released movies (Counting with Secret Magic Control Agency in 2021), Two televisions shows and at the moment three movies are announced to be released.

Currently, the franchise is the most popular one in Russia, which is also where it was produced.

The similarities I noticed:

The spirits

Coal (Up) and Snowflake (Down) (Left Side)

Plagg (Up) and Tikki (Down)(Right Side)

Tikki and Snowflake have female pronouns. Both are shown to be "feminine", kind, lovable, and correct. They're a spirit of creation.

Plagg and Coal have male pronouns. Both are shown to be "male". cunning and curious. They're a spirit of destruction.

All four are able to use their powers on their own. They don't need to be with their holder to be capable of.

Differences:

- Plagg and Tikki are able to communicate verbally with each other and with humans.

-Coal and Snowflake can't speak, they usually use body language and mimic. Also, they do noises like laughing, groaning, speaking, and such.

- According to Tikki, her species (Kwami) don't fall in love/can't fall in love.

- Snowflake and Coal are shown to be romantically interested in each other. They're shown flirting and having little date-like moments, as they're away from their "owners"

- Coal is able to multiplicate. It's unknown if he's able to do it in command or only if he falls or is hit.

The "Alter egos"

Marinette is the face behind Ladybug and Adrien wears the mask of Cat Noir.

Gerda is possessed with the ice-powers of the Snow Queen and Rollan wields the fire-power of the Fire Demon.

Gerda and Marinette share the creation ability, while Adrien and Rollan are responsible for the destruction. They're each other's opposites.

Differences: Gerda and Rollan are aware of each other's identity and recognize each other's faces, despite small differences. Adrien and Marinette don't know each other's hero identity and weirdly have minor differences in their looks.

Marinette and Adrien's personality as heroes is quite different from their civilian ones, while Gerda and Rollan's don't seem any different.

It's unknown if, during the time Rollan and Gerda are under possession, their personalities are slightly altered by the villains or not. Rollan is shown to get quickly tempered with Gerda's friend, when it comes to their mishap, which usually turns into arguments.

The Yin-Yang effect

Power of creation and destruction

Marinette = Ladybug miraculous, the red earrings / Power of Luck (Creation)

Adrien = Black Cat Miraculous, the black ring / Power of Misfortune (Destruction)

Gerda = Ice (Creation) (The ice-blue shape on the crystal)

Rollan = Fire (Destruction) (The red shape on the crystal)

Character A bickers often with character B.

Ladybug with Cat Noir. Most of the moments Ladybug feels annoyed at Cat Noir's puns and flirt attempts during their missions. She had her rude moments, but deep inside her, she adores him. With Adrien's she's currently befriended, but has a huge crush, nearly an obsession with the blonde, which sometimes makes her double life harder and under pressure, she has taken choices, which led to ungood consequences.

Gerda with Rollan. Rollan's seems more relaxed with pressuring into retrieving the powers back, unlike Gerda. Rollan's easy tempter with Orm, when he's blamed for his issues annoys her as well. Gerda has shown interest in Rollan since the night she has met him and they bonded over the night when heading to the forbidden Tomb. Rollan has shown interest in her as well, but not as much as her.

"Buttmonkey Sidekick"

Cat Noir and Rollan.

Cat Noir - Thrown around by villains at billboards, yeeted by his own dad at the fricking Eiffel tower, sometimes risked his life to protect Ladybug and get wrapped up into odd situations.

Rollan suffered a few nutshots (One by himself as well), survived a very dangerous tomb, had his head frozen by Gerda accidentally, managed to step-dance in the middle of a shoot-out without getting hit by a bullet, accidentally (Or not) uses firepower with help of his butt. (Sounds ridiculous? There' the picture 😂) Press R for respect.

Naturally handsome boys.

Cat Noir and Rollan.

With and without "masks".

Don't think before acting

Cat Noir and Rollan.

Characters look the same

Gerda and Ladybug

Gerda has additional makeup on her face.

Characters look differently with their alter egos

Cat Noir and Rollan

Cat Noir has a wilder hairstyle and has cat-like eyes.

Rollan has a different skin tone, a fire-like shaped hairstyle, which he can put on fire and his eyes are slightly red-brownish.

The brains

Ladybug and Gerda.

The muscle

Cat Noir and Rollan.

Falling into the darkness

Cat Noir and Rollan

Cat Noir lets an akuma take over him and turn him into Chat Blanc, which destroys the entire world in an alternate universe.

Rollan lets the Fire Demon take over his body at the retrieval of the power and nearly commits genocide of entire kingdom.

Tall boy, smoll girl

Cat Noir to Ladybug

Rollan to Gerda

"Lovesquare"

Cat Noir has a crush on Ladybug. Ladybug doesn't. She has a crush on Adrien, which is Cat Noir's alter ego, which she's not aware of. Adrien sees Marinette as a friend only and has no idea, she and Ladybug are the same person although they look the same.

Gerda is attracted to Rollan since the first time she saw him. Rollan begins to feel attracted to Gerda with the time she's around him.

Rollan and Gerda are aware of each other because they were given the powers in the same place.

Marinette and Adrien were confirmed to be canon and should end up in the 5th season, eventually.

Rollan and Gerda should be considered canon at the end of the 4th part, due to the ending credits showing them share a kiss.

Power font:

Ladybug & Cat Noir: "Magic jewelry" (Miraculouses)

Rollan & Gerda: The wishing stone

Difference:

The wishing stone takes away after 24 hours of control over the power wielders and turns them into the slave of Snow Queen and the Fire Demon. The characters' real person is gone for good.

#how to waste your time #random thoughts #miraculousladybug #miraculous #ladybug and chat noir #chat noir #miraculous season 4 #snow queen #snow queen 3 #the snow queen #снᴇжнᴀя коᴘолᴇвᴀ #снᴇжнᴀя коᴘолᴇвᴀ 3 #снᴇжнᴀя коᴘолᴇвᴀ 3 огонь и лед #snow queen 3 fire and ice

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Long Night in the Valley chapter 7

Oof, this chapter kept getting longer.

It was times like this that really drove home the fact that Eri had been raised by yakuza.

Normally, it was easy to forget. Eri was an angel, almost too well behaved at times, and Mirio loved spending time with her. Being asked to look after her while her foster parents were away was a privilege, not a chore.

Right now, though?

Now, Eri was in the middle of total meltdown and screaming threats at the news anchor who had just… reported something totally unbelievable and, if he was being honest, incredibly aggravating, even for him.

Mirio hoped Eri didn’t know the meanings of half the words she was shouting but, Chisaki Kai being the utter horror that he was, she’d probably seen at least some of them done to people in front of her.

Once again, Mirio was filled with the totally reasonable, if unheroic, desire to punch Chisaki until his legs came off like his arms did. As this was not, in the moment, a helpful impulse, he pushed it aside.

“I’m gonna kill you!” screamed Eri, throwing another marker at the TV screen, tears streaming down her face and horn sparking dangerously.

On one hand, it was great that Eri felt safe enough here at UA and around Mirio to have this outburst. On the other, Mirio really, really did not want to get de-aged out of existence.

It would be really great to have his quirk right now. Or Tamaki. If only he and Hado hadn’t been at their internships today, maybe they could have solved this together.

He was currently alternating between trying to verbally calm Eri down and serially dialing every teacher involved in Eri’s care.

Aizawa-sensei’s phone just rang and rang.

Yamada-sensei’s went straight to a completely unhelpful voicemail.

Kayama-sensei’s went to an even less helpful voicemail that also had the side-effect of making Mirio feel incredibly embarrassed.

All Might-sensei was supposedly “kidnapped.”

Recovery Girl had her ‘medical emergency’ message on.

This left a single, terrifying recourse.

Nezu.

With shaking hands, he pressed the call button and prepared to pray to the Rat God.

“Hi, Principal Nezu!” he said, loudly and brightly as soon as he heard the phone pick up.

“Hello, Togata-kun! I take it that Eri-chan has seen the news?”

“I’m going to tear out your eyes and sew them to your a—”

Hoooo, boy.

“Yeah,” said Mirio, “and she’s not taking it well. I’m really sorry, but I need help.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for!” chirped Nezu. “Knowing when to call for backup is something we try to instill in all our students. I’ll be over right away.”

There was a beep as the line went dead. Mirio put his phone back in his pocket and winced as Eri took a deep breath and let out another round of invective.

“Eri,” he said, deciding to make one more attempt to calm her down before Nezu came, “don’t you think that’s a bit much? She’s probably only saying what she’s been told.”

Eri whirled, incensed. “But that’sa lie! Deku isn’t a villain!”

“I know, but—”

“It’s the news!” she said, stomping her foot. “They’re not supposed to say things that aren’t true! That’s what Yagi-san says!”

“She might not know it isn’t true,” said Mirio, smiling consolingly (he knew this particular smile was consoling, because he’d practiced extensively). “Sometimes, people believe lies. Even good people.”

This was something Eri knew well, so Mirio hoped this reasoning got through to her.

It did not.

“But,” said Eri, incredulously, “it’s Deku.”

Mirio agreed with that sentiment, he really did. But the sheer level of fury currently concentrated into Eri’s tiny body was too much for him to handle.

Still, she seemed to be thinking instead of yelling or crying, so that was good.

“I’m going to bite them,” she said, dreadfully calm.

“Who?” asked Mirio, dreading the answer and knowing the storm had only stopped momentarily.

“The people who come to interrogate me,” said Eri, as if it were a given that she’d be interrogated. He was impressed she knew the word, right up until how she must have known it hit him.

“Why are you going to bite them?”

“Deku said that if a stranger tried to make me go with them or do something I didn’t want I should bite them and scream. And also…” She proceeded to describe a series of actions that would probably have the average assailant lying on the ground in a fetal position, defeated. “And you, and Amajiki-san, and Hado-san said I should…” Mirio vaguely recalled being consulted for and contributing certain portions of this but combined with Midoriya’s contributions and Eri’s anger it became significantly more sinister. “And ‘Zawa agreed and he told me I should…” Ah. That was worse. Much worse. And knowing Aizawa, he’d probably taught her how to do at least some of it.

Mirio abruptly realized that, out of all the people Eri knew, he was most likely the second sanest. He, as a person who saw no issue with appearing nude on national television multiple times, was not used to having such a position.

If the commission were wise, they wouldn’t send any of their people anywhere near Eri. They’d die.

The door burst open. “Am I a dog, a mouse, or a bear? One thing’s for sure, I’m the principal!”

Mirio now understood why Tamaki spent so much time hiding in corners.

His students screamed alongside him as he fell. He twisted, surprised and uncontrolled, in the air, flashes of skyscraper windows passing in and out of his vision. Above him, the woman, Nana, stood on the air, looking down.

Uraraka had reflexively stopped herself fairly quickly with her quirk, but she was now too far away to reach himself, Iida, or Todoroki. Todoroki was trying to copy one of his father’s moves and fly with the flames produced by his left side, but obviously trying to do something like that with no practice wasn’t going to work well.

Suzuki was there, too, but Aizawa’s first responsibility was to his kids, not the idiot that got them into this mess.

He swung his capture weapon upwards, trying to reach Uraraka, but the tumbling threw his aim off.

Green lightning flashed in the corner of his eye, and he found himself wrapped in black tentacles and moving sideways at great speed. They crashed through one of the windows into an oddly blurry and muted office space.

Midoriya released Aizawa and set down his classmates carefully. “Can you get Ochako down? Blackwhip is still… difficult.”

Aizawa looked Midoriya over quickly. He was wearing his hero costume. It had the same tears in it as it did after the aerial battle with Chisaki Kai.

There was a pattern here.

He nodded and walked to the window. Now that they were no longer falling, his aim was true, and Uraraka, who had been inching closer by deactivating then reactivating her quirk, caught the end of the capture weapon easily. He reeled her in.

“Izuku!” she said bouncing over to him and hugging him. “You’re okay!”

“Haha,” said Midoriya, “yep.”

“You let Suzuki fall,” said Aizawa, who had been contemplating much the same thing.

“I would have done something different,” said Midoriya, “but it wasn’t entirely up to me. Nana would just drop him again. It’s a dream, besides. Worst that will happen is that he’ll wake up and then we can use that to wake you guys up.” He turned away. “Come on, Six is this way.”

“Six, not seven?”

“Nana’s taking care of,” he waved his hand in the direction of the broken window, “that.”

Uraraka glanced that way. “I wasn’t sure before, but that’s Skyrunner, isn’t it? I didn’t think she was still alive.”

“She isn’t,” said Midoriya, shortly, before beginning to stride across the room. “We really don’t have time to stand around. Six will explain things better than me.”

“Who’s Skyrunner?” asked Todoroki.

Aizawa kept his eyes on Midoriya. He seemed distracted, his movements were lower energy than usual, as if his mind was miles away.

“She was a hero ages ago. She’d be in her eighties, I think, but that was her. I found her when I was doing research on quirks similar to mine.”

“They aren’t really the same,” said Midoriya. “Float is an at-will telekinetic type quirk with a personal range. Yours is a five-point touch physical property alteration quirk.”

“Application-wise,” said Uraraka. “But how can we be in her head if she’s dead? You said before, we were in All Might’s head, so…”

“Wait, what?” How the heck were they supposed to have gotten into Yagi’s head? Was this something Midoriya’s dreaming subconscious came up with? Or was there a massive problem about to smack him in the face as soon as he woke up?

More massive than the Hero Commission feeling justified in running a quirk-assisted interrogation on a minor. A minor who was unconscious and may have been moved to another facility, away from any adults who might be on their side.

Midoriya had stopped to lean against a doorway, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m not completely here. I can’t—I’m busy, it’s hard to process.”

“Busy doing what?” asked Todoroki.

“Being awake,” said Midoriya.

“You’re awake?” repeated Aizawa.

“Halfway. It’s just—Unexpected quirk interaction. When I was shot—” He broke off and shuddered. “Six will be able to explain it better. I’m on the run, sensei, I’m sorry.”

“You’re awake and on the run from the Hero Commission.”

“Mhm,” said Midoriya. “Six will explain. Probably. I haven’t directly met Six yet.”

There were so many concerning things about that statement that Aizawa didn’t know where to start. Midoriya pushed off the doorway and kept walking.

“We need a contact point,” he said, “so we can cross over to Six. I don’t know where they’d be for Nana and Six, though.”

As they walked, the building slowly changed from a generic office space to something that, at least to Aizawa, resembled a hero agency. An old, dated hero agency.

“Does this have something to do with ‘first contact?’”

“It doesn’t need to be first contact,” said Midoriya, waving over his shoulder. “Just contact. The rules are weird, apparently? I think they’re different, normally. I’m not sure where to go…”

“I’ll show you.”

Aizawa was incredibly tired of people showing up out of nowhere. And Nana really had shown up out of nowhere, suddenly materializing in the hallway, not even having the courtesy to step out of a doorway or from around a corner and pretend this world operated on anything approaching hard and fast rules.

“Hey, hey,” said Nana, “you guys are all really tense, aren’t you?”

“You did drop us from fifty stories up.”

“Haha, yeah, I did,” said Nana, grinning and ruffling Midoriya’s hair. “I’m still dropping that jerkface back there. Hopefully, he’ll decide to nope out before too long and we can get the rest of you out of here without the whole Journey to the West reenactment.”

Midoriya squinted up at her, listing slightly to one side. “Every time you use slang it’s so weird.”

“Come on, kid, I’m not that old.” She sighed. “I’d give you Float now, but given present circumstances, you’ll probably want Six’s or Two’s.”

Midoriya straightened—And was it just Aizawa or did his outline become clearer?

“You can do that?” he asked. He brought his hand up to his chin, index finger resting beneath his lower lip. “It could be possible, depending on the mechanism,” he mumbled. “But then would getting out be…? No, it can’t be something like that, or it wouldn’t even be mentioned, and it didn’t work with Suzuki… But it’s worth testing—Aizawa-sensei, can you use your quirk on Todoroki? Todoroki, think really hard about waking up while you do it.”

They tried this. Nothing happened, other than Todoroki not being able to use his quirk. Aizawa had the sinking suspicion that this conversation was about Midoriya’s quirk gaining yet another, bizarre manifestation. Did his quirk have something to do with split personalities? Loading other peoples’ personalities and quirks into his head?

“It isn’t that, then,” said Midoriya. “Saito’s quirk could still have a mechanism like that.”

“Or it could be the interaction between your quirk and hers,” said Nana.

Midoriya was silent for a moment. “I guess,” he said finally. “But we have to test—”

“We don’t want to overload you. Like I said, I think you’ll want Six’s or Two’s more than mine. Or even Four’s.”

Midoriya shook his head. “No, considering what we’re up against, Float would be very useful. Can we try?”

Nana nodded, put her hands on his shoulders, and bent at the waist to whisper something in Midoriya’s ear. The room briefly flickered into sky, a sunset or sunrise throwing brilliant color from horizon to horizon. The sound of wings presaged a flock of birds. Aizawa braced for a fall. Nana stood back up. The room returned. “Did you get it?”

Aizawa checked to make sure all of his (shaken) students were still there.

“I think so,” said Midoriya. He took a deep breath. “Yes. I have it.” He looked back at Aizawa. “I’m sorry, I really have to go, now.”

Aizawa was also getting really tired of people disappearing, he decided.

Nana sighed. “Anyway, come on, we have to get going.”

They all looked to Aizawa before following. Aizawa sighed. They didn’t have any other leads on what to do, and if they didn’t, they might get dragged along anyway. “Might as well,” he said. “This had better be a great explanation. And I’d like it before we get to this ‘Six.’”

“Yes,” said Todoroki. “Does Midoriya have multiple personality disorder?”

“It’s Dissociative Identity Disorder, and no,” said Nana. “Not as such. For now… We’re part of Nine’s—Izuku’s—quirk.”

“Funnily enough, I had put that together. Why you?”

“I used to ask myself that, you know. Six is the one who can answer. In the meantime… consider this a quirk history field trip. Here we are.” They stepped into a conference room, a projector springing to life along with the faint murmur of phantom voices. “I was just a sidekick back then,” she said. “Not his, though. It’s funny. Toshinori was mine, you know. Before his debut. He didn’t even go by All Might back then.” The room glitched.

Aizawa managed to get the impression of a surreal, almost Lovecraftian, landscape, rubble, and the words ‘You’re next.’

Aizawa could have gone his entire life without knowing that All Might had cribbed his last words as a hero from his teacher.

Nana laughed. “To be fair,” she said, patting his arm (patting his arm), “he’s not the only one. Come on, I want you four worlds away from Suzuki. Let’s get this show on the road.”

The lighting in the room shifted, and it filled with ghosts much like in Izuku’s school. Another, younger, version of Nana sat among them, looking up at the projector.

The underground hero Fidelity is here today to discuss a possible smuggling ring based out of Musutafu…

As the young man walked in, the whispers arrived… But there seemed to be fewer whisperers.

First contact.

Izuku managed to levitate a centimeter off the ground before settling himself again. Enough not to be noticed by anyone but Toshinori.

Toshinori who was close to tears. Izuku blinked back a few of his own.

This was good. With Float and the right planning, they could possibly break their trail even without the more complicated maze-path he and Toshinori had planned out. Some of the words in Trace’s file seemed to indicate her quirk only worked over solid objects, and she didn’t work with the Coast Guard, even though her quirk would, otherwise, be quite useful there. The conclusion couldn’t be trusted, of course, but if he could manage to stay floating, and get Toshinori to float as well, it would be well worth it.

He almost laughed at himself. Mastering a quirk in so little time, worth it.

“If anyone could do it,” said Toshinori, “it would be you, my boy.”

Izuku’s heart filled with warmth as the others agreed. He could almost feel Nana ruffle his hair again.

In theory, the plan to acquire the keys to the testing center’s off-limits areas was very simple.

In practice… It was also very simple, shockingly enough. Maybe it was because the human explosive and the deceptively destructive sunshine child weren’t involved. No, that couldn’t be it.

Hitoshi walked up to a security guard, said excuse me, used his quirk, and asked for the keys. Then he handed them to Yaoyorozu so she could make copies. She gave the guard back the keys, and Hitoshi told the guard to forget him. That order didn’t always work, but they weren’t having the guard move, and the whole operation had taken under five minutes. There wasn’t much to remember in the first place.

“What now?” asked Hitoshi.

“Now,” said Yaoyorozu, making more copies of keys. “We get lost.”

The benefit to having a blunt and straightforward demeanor was that people rarely thought Tsuyu was lying.

Well. The UA uniform helped, too. Even among heroes, UA was known to take only the best of the best. The most trustworthy.

“Excuse me, kero,” Tsuyu said, sidling up to a young hero in civilian clothing. “I was told to tell everyone to go into the back—They want us to spread out, for when the police arrive to question us? The doors are already unlocked.” She pointed. “But our teachers have come to pick us up, and we’re going with them, so can you help?”

“Oh, of course. That’s what heroes do, right?” Bubble Girl shot her a pair of finger guns. “Hey, you’re one of Deku-kun’s friends, right? This is so weird. Have you seen the news?”

“Yes, kero.”

“Sorry, sorry, I know that’s probably not something you want to talk about. I hope everything works out for him.”

So did Tsuyu.

The plan to flood the relatively empty back hallways with people and unleash a dance of chaos the Hero Commission, false warriors of light, could not hope to contain, went… Interestingly, in Fumikage’s opinion.

There were several different entrances to the back that people were directed to, and, predictably, some of them were turned back, even though they had unlocked the doors. There were commission people back there, albeit relatively few of them.

The class slipped in among the others. He led the way, as the sneakiest person after Hagakure. Well. Sort of.

It was hard to figure out who was in the lead with all these people everywhere.

Plus, he got… Ahem.

He was swept away on the tide of darkness, with no beacon to guide his way.

Dark Shadow cackled in his ear. “Just admit you’re lost, Fumi,” she said.

“I am not!” he hissed back.

“Besides there are fire escape maps over there.”

Oh, that was helpful.

When Chiyo woke up this morning, she had not expected to face the fact that Toshinori had finally lost his mind, and the entirely baseless accusation that Midoriya of all people had kidnapped him (the reverse was much more likely, in her opinion). And yet.

When Chiyo had been asked to organize and accompany the fleet of ambulances to pick up their unconscious students and staff members (something she had done many times) she had not expected to be point blank refused by the Hero Commission. And yet.

When Hizashi and Nemuri had asked the fleet to pull around to the back of the testing center, near a loading dock ‘to make room for other traffic,’ she had not expected her coworkers and eleven students to slam up the rolling overhead door of the loading dock and run out at full tilt while carrying ten unconscious bodies.

And yet.

Maybe, after everything, she should have.

She grabbed the radio from the dash and started rolling down the window. “Open the doors!”

The students knew what they were doing, at least with regards to casualty transport. They should. They’d passed the licensing test. Hizashi and Nemuri had better hope this nonsense didn’t get any of those licenses stripped, or, oh, she’d have words with them.

“Hey!” shouted a hero with a prominent commission badge pinned to his costume. He extended his arm and delicate rays of light shot forth. He was aiming mostly at Hizashi and Nemuri. Typical. One of the rays of light hit Hizashi’s heel, and his shoe turned to stone, causing him to stumble.

Chiyo calmly stuck the end of her syringe-shaped cane out the window and depressed the well-hidden trigger. A small sedative filled dart his the hero in the neck, where he was not protected by his costume. He dropped.

One or two of the students did a double take. Chiyo rolled her eyes.

Really. She was a licensed Pro Hero. Pros had to be able to act, regardless of how many of their expectations were being subverted.

The students could stand to learn that.

Large public TV screen at the intersection caught Izuku’s attention, despite how he was keeping his gaze on his feet, the better to monitor his use of Float.

But, then, Izuku had practically trained himself to notice any screen with All Might on it. That this one also had his picture on it was just frosting on the cake.

They’re moving fast.

Of course they are. We’re a threat.

We weren’t!

We’ve always been. Do you remember—?

They aren’t putting quirk users into concentration camps.

No, just training camps.

Not the time. We’ll have to deal with the Hawks problem later.

… We were hoping for more time.

“The Hawks problem?” asked Toshinori.

“I have no idea,” said Izuku. “Come on, we have to keep going.”

Trace was very good at what she did, and Hawks was genuinely hoping that she would be the one to find Midoriya and All Might, not him. He didn’t want to be responsible for what was going to happen to the kid, spy or no. He didn’t want to get on All Might’s bad side, either, retired or not.

Really. The commission should have taken the hint when All Might left of his own accord. Hawks didn’t know how he’d found out about the commission’s plan to psychically interrogate Midoriya, but obviously he did. And he objected. Strenuously.

It might have been better for him to go public, though, rather than spirit the kid away.

On the other hand… It had only been a couple hours at this point. Maybe he hadn’t had the chance. Getting the kid out of commission hands might have been his priority, depending on how much he heard.

What Hawks had heard… Yeah. Not great. One guy in particular had seemed overly enthusiastic about Midoriya’s possible rehabilitation.

He sighed and took off his goggles, so he had a better view of the city below him. Hawks had lucked out in the color receptor department. Like most birds, he had four, as opposed to the baseline human three. If anyone could pick out Midoriya’s green mop and All Might’s eye-watering blonde in these crowds, it would be him.

And if they had changed their appearances?

Well. Their heights were distinctive enough on their own, especially when paired.

Hawks genuinely hoped Trace would find them first. But he wasn’t counting on it.

Well. This was far from the worst thing the commission had asked him to do.

Samson and Delilah were a relatively new duo. Samson had a gorilla mutation. Delilah had a ‘conditional status ailment’ quirk that doubled as a boost to herself. Kind of annoying to activate, though, honestly. Who else had a quirk that made them eat hair?

Anyway, this was their first assignment from the commission. All they had to do was pick up a potential witness.

“Or colluder,” said Samson.

“Come on, have you seen her face?” Delilah gestured with the photo in her hand.

“She’s his mother. Mothers know everything.”

“Your mom, maybe,” said Delilah. “I think this is it.” She checked the door number. Yep. “You knock.”

Samson’s knock was loud and intimidating. It got no response.

“Again?” suggested Delilah.

But no matter how many times Samson knocked, he would get no answer. Midoriya Inko was not home.

Inko checked the piece of paper with Dr. Tsubasa’s current address on it again. Hisashi had always told her that if anything happened, and he couldn’t be there, she should go to Dr. Tsubasa. She never had. The wound he had given her son when he was five had never completely faded, and she couldn’t help but hate him for that.

But Hisashi wasn’t picking up his phone, and this, this was bigger than she could hope to deal with.

Dr. Tsubasa had better be able to. Or else.

(Inko did not know if the ‘or else’ was for herself, Izuku, Hisashi, or Dr. Tsubasa himself, but it was most certainly there.)

(Incidentally, Hisashi was going to get a lot of ‘else’ from her regardless, for not picking up his phone.)

Once, when he was young and stupid, Tomura had thought of life as a single-player game. First person. A shooter, maybe. First person RPG.

Before he’d turned twenty, though, he’d realized that to get anywhere, he’d need a party. Obviously, he was still the only player, other than Sensei, and Sensei didn’t count. Sensei was different. Everyone else was NPCs. Interesting ones, maybe. But just look at Twice! He could turn everyone into infinitely respawning mobs. As things were meant to be.

But the USJ, Hosu, and everything that happened that summer had taught him better. This was a co-op, and when someone got a permanent game over, when they were logged off forever… It made something burn inside him because those were his party members.

He’d found Magne annoying. But when she declared herself everyone’s big sis…

Even so, he’d hung on to the notion that they were fighting the CPU. No intelligence on the other side. Just violence, power, and an assortment of unfair, programmed-in cheat codes.

This, too, was a false impression of the world. This revelation hadn’t come as quickly as the last. In fact, if he were to be honest with himself (a despicable practice) he’d have to admit the realization had been building, percolating, since the USJ. It was something he’d acknowledged, even, although he hadn’t realized it at the time.

This game had a Player 2. And the noob had just finished the tutorial.

He smiled wide enough to make his lips crack and sting in the dusty air of the current hideout. The pinging news alerts on his phone faded into the background as he made his plans.

Tomura was supposed to be following the main questline, gathering party members, and powering up, but what was multiplayer without griefing? What was an open sandbox without distractions?

“Hey, guys,” said Tomura, lazily, not even looking over his shoulder. “You up for a side quest?”

#long night in the valley #bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #my fic

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perseusannabeth · 4 years

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I'll Hold Your Hand - modern AU Nessian fic

Summary: Cassian is finally going to spend some alone time with Nesta, and he's going to woo the shit out of her. He's totally going to seduce her. This is his chance, finally! However, when he gets to Nesta's flat, he realises that this may not be the best time for seduction.

Notes: This is not beta-read so please let me know if there are any mistakes! I wrote this for my friend @acourtofmarauders who asked for some Nessian fluff. If anyone has any acotar prompts they would like me to write, then please send me an ask!

Cassian would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn’t dressing extra carefully today. He had spent 2 hours going through every combination of outfits he could possibly wear, and another hour (once he had chosen an outfit) had been dedicated to fixing his hair. He was nervous, and that was a new feeling for him. Cassian never got nervous, especially when it came to women.

Nesta Archeron however, was no ordinary woman. In fact, when she was angry, he wasn’t even sure she was a woman, she looked like a dragon sometimes, with smoke blowing out of her nostrils when she got angry and ready to breathe fire and burn down whoever angered her, which was usually him. He loved it though. At first, he just loved pissing her off for the sake of it. He didn’t hate her, he just didn’t really like her either and she irritated him, got under his skin and somehow knew how to push all the wrong buttons. Now though, he just loved to watch the way her cheeks would flush, her brows would furrow, and the slight clench of her jaw. He enjoyed their verbal sparring, which he had come to see as a release for the tension between them, only the past few months it felt like the verbal spars were not enough to get rid of the tension.

If she could see him now, primping and preening in the mirror for hours on end, she would have insulted him till he begged for a reprieve, but he doesn’t care. He wants to make sure he looks irresistible but make it look effortless. She could never know his effortless look took him 3 hours. In fact, none of his friends could ever know. They would never shut up about it. He thanked the cauldron that Azriel was spending a few days away with Elain so he couldn’t witness what a mess he was. Sometimes living with your brother had its downsides. He was just thankful that Rhys didn’t still live here. He shuddered at the thought of Rhys and Feyre seeing him getting ready for his not-date with Nesta.

Cassian knew he was acting like this was a date, but he didn’t care. Nesta had invited him to go over to her flat when she was home alone to eat junk food and watch films together, and Cassian was ecstatic. If he had known that mentioning that he had never seen Lord of the Rings, despite having read all the books would have made Nesta so outraged that she’d invite him to spend time with her, then he would have mentioned it ages ago.

He looked at the clock again to check if it was a reasonable enough time to set off. He didn’t want to get there too early, as eager as he was, because that might annoy Nesta and he didn’t want to start their 12-hour marathon with Nesta being angry at him. He also would rather die than get there late, so he kept checking the clock. Nesta had told him to come over for 6 pm so they could marathon all three of the films. She had warned that it would be an endurance test and that if he was a “weak ass bitch” (direct quote from Nesta herself), then she would “leave him for dead”.

Cassian looked at himself one last time in the mirror. His hair was tied in a messy man bun that had taken way too much time to make it look so effortless and not as though he had run in the wind. He had kept his outfit simple, wearing a grey fitted shirt which he knew made his muscles look great, and his favourite joggers which he knew did wonders for his ass (not that it needed help but still, every little helps where Nesta is concerned). Nesta had warned him to dress comfortable, but that didn’t mean he had to dress like a slob.

He grabbed his favourite red zip-up hoodie, made sure he had his phone, charger and keys as he walked into the kitchen. Nesta had said she would have some snacks but Cassian wanted to do a little extra, so he had prepared a pasta bake, which just needed to go in the oven when he got to Nesta’s place. He had also taken the liberty of buying an assortment of junk food, including sour sweets (Nesta’s favourites) and Yorkie chocolate bars (Nesta claimed she started eating them out of spite and can’t stop. He’s too afraid to ask what that even means).

He somehow managed to lock up while holding the pasta bake and the tonne of junk food, and then went and put his things in his car. He tried to drive as slowly as he could without annoying other people on the roads, just to make sure he didn’t get there too early, but still ended up arriving 15 minutes earlier than he was supposed to. Still, Cassian decided Nesta couldn’t be too mad at him for arriving early (could she?) so he decided to take a chance and go up to her flat.

He knocked on her door cautiously and heard a muffled swear from inside which made him grin. Perhaps their little Lord of the Rings marathon wasn’t only making him nervous. The idea that Nesta was nervous too made Cassian grin even wider, his heart fluttering slightly at the thought of Nesta getting nervous because of him.

The door swung open, interrupting Cassian’s thoughts. Nesta stood in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. She looked… tired? It threw Cassian, seeing her like this. Her hair was in a messy plait that she had clearly slept in, she was wearing what looked like some Mulan pyjamas and a pastel pink fluffy dressing gown over them. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, she looked a little sweaty, her eyes were half-closed as she looked at Cassian. This was not the poised and ready to step on his balls while wearing high heels Nesta he was used to.

“Hi sweetheart, are you okay?” Cassian forgot all about any ideas to woo Nesta, worry at the forefront of his mind now. Something was clearly wrong because Nesta would rather die than be seen in this state, especially by him.

“Hmm? Don’t call me that,” Nesta protested half-heartedly, her eyes still half-closed as she leaned against the door frame, her head moving to rest against it as though it was too heavy for her to carry.

Cassian decided to throw all caution to the wind and step forward, lightly touching her arm while balancing the ridiculous amounts of food he had bought for the two of them. “Nes, you don’t look very well. Are you okay?”

“I was gonna call you to cancel but then I got really tired and fell asleep. It was just really exhausting getting out of bed to go to the bathroom and kitchen so I had to rest on the sofa.” Nesta said softly. It was strange hearing the normally sharp-tongued Nesta sound so soft and sleepy. He had never seen her so vulnerable, and it made his heart swell.

“Why do you have your head against the doorframe sweetheart? You have a temperature too?”

“Yeah, I think so. Also, I’m a little dizzy right now. I’m not too bad when I’m ill usually, but the flu always affects my balance because once I had an ear infection.” She moved her head from the doorframe, turning her head to look at Cassian with those beautiful, sleepy eyes. As she moved her head, she swayed a bit, her grip tightening on the door frame as she did.

“Right, hang on a second,” Cassian said, quickly spurring into action and moving past her to put down the food he had bought on the kitchen counter, before rushing back to the front door, closing it and slowly guiding Nesta back to the sofa in her living area. Once he had Nesta safely seated, he let out a breath he had been holding.

“Thank you. You don’t have to stay, you know. As you can probably tell, I’m in no fit state to watch Lord of the Rings right now. Plus, the only correct way to do it is to marathon them and I don’t have the energy for that,” Nesta let out a small, sad-sounding sigh which sounded more like she was struggling to breathe as she lay herself down.

“That’s fine, we can watch Lord of the Rings another time. I don’t mind,” Cassian smiled at her softly as he grabbed the blanket at the foot of the sofa and covered her in it.

Nesta frowned. “You don’t have to stay,” she repeated.

“I know I don’t have to stay, but I want to stay.”

There was silence as Nesta looked at Cassian, confusion written all over her face plain as day. She never made it this easy to read her, but Cassian enjoyed the fact that for once, he might be able to guess what’s going on in her head.

“I… I don’t… why?”

“Why not? You’re ill, nobody else is here. I’m not going to let you deal with this on your own, especially when you tell me you’re getting dizzy. It’s not safe. Plus, I don’t mind what we do, even if it’s just sitting here and watching some mindless TV while you doze off. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“Oh,” was all Nesta could say to Cassian’s confession. He couldn’t be sure, but she almost sounded shocked? But surely not, because he always told her how much he enjoyed talking to her.

“Okay, so have you had any food, water or medicine today?” Cassian asked, getting into his ‘nurse Cassian’ way of thinking, as Azriel had lovingly named it back when Azriel had been very ill when they were younger. Cassian just couldn’t help himself, he always felt the need to protect those he loved.

“I had some water and 2 cookies when I woke up. I fell asleep pretty soon after so I haven’t had anything else yet.”

Cassian frowned. “Nesta, it’s now past 6. Are you telling me that all you’ve had today is 2 cookies and a glass of water? What the fuck!”

“I fell asleep, that’s why! I only just woke up when you knocked on my door. Plus, it’s not so bad, I woke up at 1 pm today so it’s only been a few hours,” Nesta said defensively, a little sharpness returning to her voice.

“No wonder you’re feeling dizzy, you’ve not had any medicine or anything of nutritional value to eat, and most of the day has passed! Come on, what do you want to eat? Anything specific?”

“I don’t care as long as it’s not soup. I’m not dying, I still want real food, and soup never tastes good. Plus, I used to have it all the time when I was younger, it reminds me too much of starving and shoving random things in a pot to make ‘soup’ that we would have tiny little portions of so that it would last us a week.”

Cassian has never heard Nesta talk about their childhood. He knew from Feyre how tough things had been, but Nesta had never once spoken about it. He had always assumed that she didn’t care, and from what Feyre had told them, both her and Elain had pretended nothing was happening. Perhaps, Cassian mused, there was more going on there too, more than what she had let her sisters see.

“Okay, no soup. I made a pasta bake so we could always have that. It just needs to go into the oven for a little while. Does that sound good to you?” Nesta nodded, making Cassian smile.

He was glad that his pasta bake would come to good use. He was just glad that despite the fact that Nesta probably didn’t want him here, she didn’t seem to be kicking him out. He wanted to be able to help her and look after her. She hated people seeing her vulnerable, he knew that, and he was honoured that she was putting up with him and allowing him to be there for her.

Cassian walked over to the kitchen, put the oven on and pulled some dishes out of Nesta’s cupboards while the oven warmed up. Once the oven was warmed up, he put the pasta bake into the oven and set a timer on his phone, making sure it was on vibrate so it didn’t make too much noise and startle Nesta.

While he had been rattling around in the kitchen, Nesta had put the TV on and started Netflix up and was looking through to find something to watch. She eventually decided on Queer Eye but had the volume on very quietly, so it was just some comfortable background silence. Cassian glanced at her on the sofa and saw her struggling to keep her eyes open.

“Where do you keep your medicine?” Cassian asked, deciding he should also see what she had in her medicine cupboard too.

“There’s some in the small cupboard right at the end and then there’s some stuff in the bathroom cupboard too,” Nesta answered, jolting at the sound of his voice as she kept almost falling asleep. Cassian could see that she was fighting valiantly to stay awake. She would probably fight the illness with the same kind of energy and knowing Nesta, be fine in no time through sheer determination alone.

Cassian looked through the cupboards and managed to find some lemsip tablets in the bathroom, as well as the powdered stuff in the kitchen. “Do you want lemsip powder or tablets?” he asked as he walked towards her, holding both up in his hands.

“Ugh, the tablets for sure. The powered stuff tastes like shit. I used to suffer through it and drink that shit until Feyre told me that there was a tablet form of it.” Nesta looked at the offending powder with disdain, narrowing her eyes at it as though it had offended her.

“Okie dokie! The powder stuff is definitely evil. I don’t know how we’re expected to drink it. It does not taste like lemon and lime, it tastes like lies and poison.” Cassian said, throwing the powder back into the cupboard.

His phone started buzzing in his pocket and he quickly went to take the pasta out of the oven. He quickly plated it up for Nesta, putting it on the coffee table in front of her along with the biggest glass he could find, full of water. He then went to get his own plate and water and sat beside her.

Nesta looked at him suspiciously and then looked at the pasta in front of her. Cassian just grinned at her and started eating. Nesta watched him for a minute, before following his lead. Cassian knew as soon as she had put the fork in her mouth because Nesta let out a positively sinful moan.

“Fuck, that’s amazing,” Nesta said, looking over at Cassian, her eyes widened with shock.

Cassian felt his cheeks heat a little, a combination of her praise and the incredibly sexy noise she had let out. He would usually have made a dirty comment after hearing a noise like that, but he decided to hold back for once, only going easy on Nesta because she was ill.

Nesta ate the food at a slightly alarming pace, and Cassian was half worried that she would choke on her food at the speed she was eating, and was on edge just in case he needed to quickly stop her from choking. Nesta didn’t pay him any attention, eating and watching Queer Eye.

When her plate was empty, she drank some of her water. Cassian got up, taking both the plates to the sink and grabbing the cold and flu tablets and handing them to Nesta. She silently took one, before lying back down again.

Cassian turned back to the kitchen when he heard a soft “thank you” coming from the sofa. He stopped in his tracks, not quite sure he had heard it right. He looked at the TV, wondering if he had just heard it from that, and then looked at Nesta, who was watching him.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Cassian asked as he started washing their dishes.

“I know you heard me, don’t ruin it now by being a bastard.” Cassian simply raised his eyebrow at her, before drying his hands and putting cling film on the remaining pasta and putting it in the fridge. “I said, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I’m glad you enjoyed the food,” he said, sitting down near Nesta’s feet. She lifted them to make room for him. As he sat down, he pulled her feet back into his lap. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better. I guess you were right about the whole food thing making me feel better.”

“Wow, who would’ve thought we’d see the day where Nesta Archeron admits I was right?” Cassian said, feigning shock. Nesta huffed and gave his leg a light kick. “But seriously, you knew the food would make you feel better. You should take better care of yourself. Or maybe, let others in to take care of you from time to time. Like this, us right now.”

“But I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” Nesta said, not angry, the way she had said those words many times in the past. Just softly, stating a fact, but her voice tinged with confusion.

“Look, Nesta, admitting that you need help occasionally doesn’t mean you’re weak. Everyone needs help from time to time. Needing someone to take care of you when you’re ill doesn’t mean you’re needy or dependent or a burden on someone, it just means you’re human. And believe it or not, not everyone is out to get you. There are people in your life who would gladly help you, and ask for nothing in return.”

“Like you?” she looked at Cassian with an emotion etched on her beautiful face that he had never seen before. It was hope, softness, and perhaps maybe even fondness for him, all rolled into one.

“Nesta Archeron, I would drop everything to come and help you with whatever you needed, however stupid or mundane you might think it is.” Nesta looked away, and let a small smile grow on her face. Cassian had seen Nesta smile before, don’t get him wrong, but they were more smirks and ‘I’ll kill you’ smiles, in the heat of their arguments. This smile was something different altogether, and it reminded him of how Nesta truly took his breath away.

“I’m tired,” Nesta said after a few minutes of silence.

“Okay, well then you need to sleep.” Cassian stood up, switching the TV off, pulling the blanket off of her and picking her up. She barely weighed anything, which worried Cassian. He didn’t want to annoy Nesta by monitoring her eating habits, especially because he didn’t know why she was so underweight and that could be a risky move, but he hoped he would be able to get her to eat more. He’d even cook for her himself if she wanted.

Nesta, surprisingly, did not react when he picked her up. She just put her arms around his neck and stared at him as he carried her into her room. He placed her softly onto the bed, took her dressing gown off her and hung it up, then tucked her into bed. He then went back into the living room, picked her glass up from the coffee table, filled it up with fresh water and put it on her bedside cabinet, next to some more cold and flu tablets. He then turned to leave Nesta in peace, when she called out for him.

“Cassian?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He asked, turning around. “Do you need anything else?” Nesta nodded, then gestured for him to come closer.

He walked closer until he was looming over her bed. She slowly reached out for his hand, and kissed the back of it, then let go and smiled at him. “Thank you, for taking care of me.”

“Is that what the kiss was for?” Nesta nodded. “Well sweetheart, if you want to thank me then there are plenty of ways you can thank me when you’re feeling better,” he smiled.

“I would’ve kissed you properly now but I don’t want you to get ill either. I’m nowhere near as good of a nurse as you are.”

“What you might lack in the care department, you could make up by wearing a sexy nurse costume.” he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

She laughed. “I think that would make you stay sick for longer.”

“I think you’re right,” he said, joining her in her laughter.

Nesta’s laughter subsided. She stared at him openly, her eyes roaming all over him. “Will you stay?” she said eventually, so quiet he could’ve missed it if there wasn’t total silence around them.

“Stay here?” he asked dumbly, not quite believing she would want him to continue to intrude, especially when she was about to sleep.

“Yes. Stay with me, please,” she said, her soft sleepy voice returning, her eyes starting to close before she opened them again. Cassian could see how much force and effort it was taking for her to keep her eyes open. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He grabbed Nesta’s armchair, where she no doubt spent many an hour reading her romance books, and pushed it until it was close enough to the bed that Nesta could reach out for him if she wanted.

He sat down on the chair, and Nesta instantly grabbed his hand, the same one she had kissed. He watched as she drifted off in a matter of minutes, the medicine making sleep come to her a lot quicker than usual. Even as she drifted off, she did not stop holding his hand at all. Cassian ran his thumb over the back of her hand softly, repeating the motion as he stared at the beautiful woman before him. He wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t a dream, but if it was he never wanted to wake. Nesta’s face was much more relaxed now she was asleep, the frown lines and pursed lips smoothed out. She looked, younger, and almost carefree, apart from the clear signs of fatigue that lined her face. The bags under her eyes were prominent, and Cassian knew she studied into the night, working herself too hard.

Still, Cassian mused to himself, perhaps now that Nesta had let him in, he could convince her to take better care of herself. He needed to make sure that she knew that Cassian was in this for the long haul, and perhaps she would lower her walls more, and finally let him in.

As he drifted off to sleep, still holding her hand, he realised that perhaps she already had let him in.

End Notes: Thank you to everyone who is reading! Please let me know what you thought of it. Also, I've realised that perhaps some of the things I mentioned are very British? I'm not entirely sure but I figured I'd give an explanation just in case.

Yorkies are a chocolate bar, which used to have the slogan 'not for girls' which is obviously very dumb. They changed it years ago, however, before they changed it, when I was younger, I ate the chocolate bar out of spite because the slogan and some boys said I couldn't do it. The adrenaline rush was just wow, a lot at the time for an 8-year-old.

Lemsip is medicine for colds and flu. Most people tend to have the powdered stuff, which you have to mix into boiling water and drink like its tea. It claims to be lemon and lime flavoured but it's actually just lies and makes me gag because it's disgusting. I was very offended because I suffered for all these years but then my sister told me there were tablets too??? Betrayal??? Nobody bothered to tell me???

#nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #my fic #i've not even properly proofread this so there may be mistakes #not sure if i even like it i'm just posting it #also posted on a03 #text

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

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Teacher Of The Year - P.13

Pairing: Professor Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Heartbroken and restless, she walked into a bar with the full intention of getting smashed but she got more than she bargained for. Much more.

Warnings: NSFW

WC: 2578

A/N: This chapter doesn’t have a lot of plot. The plot will pick up eventually. Meanwhile have some porn.

SERIES MASTERLIST

BECOME A PATRON ~ BUY ME A COFFEE

“Good morning, class,” Dean walks to his desk, his face scanning the crowd for hers, she knows. He smirks as his gaze locked onto her mutinous expression, “I hope you all are ready for what’s to come .”

Y/N squirms in her seat on hearing his words, and her mind wanders back to last night. Wanders back to this morning, too.

She licked him clean last night, and he actually came a second time. Her pussy was in his face while he flicked his tongue against her nub before sealing his lips around her clit, sucking and slurping at the slick that flowed free from her core. Y/N whimpered desperately, she was so close to her goal. As she tensed and her pussy started to cramp, that little shit pulled away and he repeated it, over and over again.

Dean didn’t let her come that night. Instead, he just rolled her off him and pulled her into a hug, holding her flush to his body as he nibbled at her neck and shoulders, “Behave next time, baby.” He whispered before falling asleep.

This morning was no different; he kissed her awake, then left her to shower and was ready to go. Y/N disappeared into the bathroom soon after, and let the shower head spray water on her, thinking how easy it would be to just find release in here without him knowing.

Ultimately, she decided against it, because somehow he would know and she needed to behave. She didn’t want to anger him again, even though he’s pretty sexy when he gets mad for things like this.

When she got dressed and walked out, Dean was ready and held out a tumbler with coffee for her to take, “Let’s go.”

He let her walk to the door first and when she had the doorknob in her hand, he pushed her against it before she could even pull it open. She almost let the tumbler fall to the ground but decided to hold on to it for dear life.

His hand was up her skirt, pushing her panties to the side, his thick fingers probed against her entrance. Dean chuckled when he felt how wet she was. The other hand palmed at her breast through her shirt and bra.

“You’re drenched, baby. You didn’t touch yourself in the shower, did you?” Dean growled, his breath brushing against her ear and she shook her head no.

Her back arched up while she pushed her hips back against his hand and he slipped two of his fingers in, scissoring her open. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep the moans inside. It was hard enough to taste fucking copper.

“Good girl, taking my fingers so well,” He licked at the shell of her ear.

She was close again, her legs started to shake as his hands worked her over at a maddening pace.

“Keep being a good girl and you’ll get to come. Later.” Dean pulled out of her, smirking as she turned herself around and adjusted her panties. She watched him licking the juices off his fingers before he molded his lips to hers.

“Let’s go, Y/N. We’ll be late.” He was a fucking tease and she sighed internally, rolling her eyes, not knowing if she’ll last the day.

Now, Dean was standing there, grinning like an idiot while making stupid innuendos and Y/N rolled her eyes, not even caring if he saw it or not. He closed his lecture and added, “If you have any questions, my office is open during the usual hours. Don’t hesitate to come by.”

She goes on with her day and by late afternoon, the tingly feeling is almost unbearable. Y/N’s sure that if she doesn’t find release soon, she’s going to fucking spontaneously combust, so she does what she thought was reasonable given the state she’s in — visiting Dean.

Here she is, pacing around in front of his office, not quite sure if she should burst in or not, when she hears him from the inside calling out for her.

“Do you want to come in or not?”

How did he know?

She opened the door carefully, pokes her head through the little gap.

He’s smiling at her in all his glory, the smile has something cocky to it, “Come in.” He drops a file into his desk drawer before closing, “What’s on your mind?”

She pouts and tries not to sound too whiny, “I’m pretty sure you know.”

Dean chuckles at that and looks at her through his glasses. His eyes were giving him trouble this morning and he hadn’t bothered to put in his contacts.

“You’re doing very well, baby. Just a couple of hours longer, can you do that?” He gets up and walks the couple of steps to her, holding her chin up in between his fingers, making her look up at him. And she nods her head with a sigh.

“Good,” He pecks her lips, smirking, “This is how you will be waiting for me…”

When Dean arrives home, Y/N is waiting for him in the bedroom. He knows that because that’s what he told her to do. She has followed his instructions to a T and he smirks a little because fuck, he lovs how compliant she was. She’s such a fucking good girl, so desperate for him to let her come. Dean thinks it’s adorable, can’t lie about the fact that it makes his heart flutter and his dick throb.

She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, naked, her head’s down. Like he demanded from her. She’s waiting for him, not once questioning his intentions. Dean closes the door to the bedroom and takes the couple of steps over, rolling up the sleeves to his dress shirt and when he was right in front of her, he cups her chin in his hand, tilts her face up to look him in the eye.

“Do you trust me, baby?”

Y/N nods and Dean could see the excitement in her eyes, mixed with a little fear but he’s sure that he’ll be able to wipe that doubt out of her mind in no time.

“I need to hear it, sweetheart.”

“Y-yes. I..I trust you,” It comes out a little strained.

“Good girl,” He grins cheekily before he switches his face to a more frowned one, “Move up the bed and lay on your back.”

She moves back, her gaze never leaving his, as she backs up the bed and lays herself down. The tingly feeling’s back between her thighs he guesses, because she rubs them together, trying to gain some friction.

“Ah-ah,” Dean tsked her, “Legs spread, baby.”

She complies, but not without a sigh.

Dean could punish her again for that if he wants to, but he lets it slide, as it’s her first time doing this and she’s been good. Real good.

He walks around the bed and pulls out a little box from underneath. She looks at him puzzled. She’s never seen that black little box before, he never pulled it out. Never actually needed it. Dean opens it and pulls out two pairs of cuffs, holding it out, and showing it to her, “You still trust me?”

“Yes.” She says it more firmly this time.

He nods at her and walks up to the head of the bed. She flinches a little as he takes her hand and cuffs it to the bed. And when he makes his way to the other side and takes her other hand into his, he can feel that she’s visibly more relaxed now.

“I wanted to blindfold you, but you’re looking so beautiful. It would be a shame if I couldn’t see those pretty eyes.” He whispers and moves closer, kissing her, “How do you feel?” He breathes into the kiss before he stands back up again.

“O-ok.”

Dean walks to the foot of the bed and begins to unbutton his shirt, but not taking it off yet, kind of just letting it hang loosely around his firm body, “Remember to use the word if you need to, alright?” It isn’t really a question, more a statement, “It’s your call. You say it, I’ll stop.”

“I understand.” She mumbles and Dean has to grin. What a fucking good girl indeed, knowing that he needs a verbal confirmation.

“And keep your legs open, sweetheart. If not, I’ll tie them down too.” He winks at her as he palms his growing erection through his pants.

Wetting her lips, Y/N watches him but instead of coming closer, he walks out of the room and it makes her wonder what he’s up to. Will he just leave her here, all tied up, unable to do anything about the burning between her thighs?

God, this was pure torture.

She hears him opening the fridge and closing it again, and then he’s back in the room, a glass of ice in his hand.

“Look at you,” He snickers but it wasn’t in a derogatory way. Y/N didn’t know how but it turned her on even more, “Spread out prettily like a goddamn meal.”

He kneels on the bed and moves closer, laying himself in between her open legs that she’s spread apart like a dirty invitation.

“I could eat you alive.” Dean growls,and kisses a path up her left thigh, making her squirm, “And you wouldn’t even mind, would you?”

“Fuck, no.” She arches her back as he kisses her other thigh, leaving a trail of wet promises in its wake.

His mouth’s hovering over her hot sex now, and all she wants is to push up her hips, making him eat her as he promised but she knows that she has to wait. Patience’s never been one of her virtues.

“Remember, you’re only allowed to come when I tell you. Got it?”

“Yes, fuck, I know. Dean, please?” Y/N pleads desperately, unable to wipe the need out of her voice.

Dean licked up the center of her cunt, his tongue parts her folds like fucking Moses parts the sea. She tries to buck her hips up into his mouth a little, but he holds her down, one strong hand is heavy on her stomach as he seals his lips around her bud. He sucks and laps, closes his eyes as he devours her.

“Dean—, fuck, I— I...” Her fingers grips around the chain of the cuffs, pulling at them as she tries to concentrate on not coming.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” He comes up for air, his gaze locking on hers and then he dives in again. His tongue digging deep into her core while his nose nudges at her bud and it tickles her with every breath he takes. Dean soon begins to hum against her clit as he works his mouth up again, sealing it around her whole clit and sucks as if his life depended on it. When his finger finally fuck into her pussy, she bites down on her lip hard.

“Shit. Dean!” She arches her back, her orgasm is just around the fucking corner. Another flick of his tongue and she’ll be gone.

Just when her legs begins to tremble, Dean pulls himself from her throbbing sex and looks up at her, his face glistens, as he slaps down on her clit, making her jump, “I said, not yet.” He growls but then his features soften and he shoots her a sexy grin. God, she just wants to smack him over the head with her feet because damn that man’s killing her alive.

“Hold out for me a little longer, baby. I know you can,” Dean cocks an eyebrow and moves his hand to the glass of ice next to him, fishes out an ice cube and places it in his mouth before taking it out again.

He starts to lick a new path up her thigh, lapping at her flesh with his ice cold tongue, making her body jerk at every touch.

“Fuck,” Y/N curses and she desperately wants to tell him that she can’t take it anymore. The safe word sitting loosely on her tongue.

But she relaxes after a while. The way he looks at her. The way he sweeps his cold tongue against her pussy. Yeah, she needs to hold herself together a little longer.

Dean places the ice cube to her clit and when it touches her soaking pussy, her body jerks up again. He holds her still with one hand spanning wide on her pelvis as he rubs the cube over her slick folds. She arches her back, moans at the touch, throwing her head back and bites down on her lip, almost drawing blood.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” He purrs before he laps at the melted ice that dripples down next to the cube, “Fuck. So good.”

“Shit, Dean, I can’t..fuck!” Her legs begin to tremble again and he puts the ice back into his mouth, his big palm swatting down on her ice cold pussy.

*smack smack*

The wet slapping sound loud in the room they’re in.

“Told ya not to come,” Dean hisses and it makes her shriek, clutching the chain of the cuffs a little tighter in her hands.

*smack smack*

It hurts, but fuck, it turned her on so, so much. How’s that possible? Y/N never thought she’d be much for the pain, but here she is. Every slap of Dean’s hand makes her heart beat faster and her pussy wetter.

*smack smack*

“Be a good girl now?” He asks, looking at her sternly and she nods at him, her lips tugged between her teeth.

When she calms down, he takes another cube out of the glass, places it in his mouth before spitting it out into his palm. Dean circles the cube around her bud, making her squeeze her eyes shut. While he works the cube on her bud, he licks down to her entrance, lapping at the wetness that’s dripping down.

And she tries. Really, really tries to hold it in, but this time, the wave hits her like a freaking tsunami.

“Dean..I..fuck..please! “ She begins to thrash around with her upper body.

“Yes, baby. Now. You can come now, be a good girl, yeah? Come of me,” He says with a soothing voice, and he places the cube back to the glass before sealing his lips back around her pussy, sucking and humming as a strong orgasm rolls over her, making her legs quiver and squeeze around his head. Her body shakes like a leaf during a hurricane.

“Fuck! Oh god..” She chokes out breathlessly, unable to form coherent words in her mind, “I— wow— fuck!”

Dean smiles up at her, his tongue laps at the wetness as he cleans her up with his cold mouth.

After a while he sits back up and watches her. His face is still shiny and slick.

“You did good, baby,” He moves up to straddle her as he uncuffs her hands and leans down to kiss her. His hands cradle her face, “Really good. Now, you need to rest. It was an intense orgasm, I could feel it.” He lays himself next to her, kisses her one last time before pulling the comforter over her body, tucking her into a soft and warm blanket and holds her in his arms.

P.14

#teacher of the year #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

110 notes · View notes

poeticandors · 4 years

Text

Come What May Part 4

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Summary: You and Poe are sent undercover in order to gain information about the First Order and hope to recruit. But what begins to bloom as you and Poe continue to work closer throughout this mission? And, what happens when you happen to catch the eye of one of the most dangerous men?

Warnings: none really? Besides Poe wanting to beat a bitch up but that is really it.

A/N: It’s finally here! Thanks for being patient, I had to listen to both Moulin Rouge soundtracks to get some inspiration but I mainly did it to sing out loud to Onyx who seemed entertained.

GIF by @vakariaan

It was times like these when Poe wished he was back at the Resistance Base— where he could escape to his X-Wing with BB-8 and just fly amongst the stars, basking in the silence and the seemingly, never ending freedom that space had to offer. He loved just looking down, seeing the way the land and water made up the planet. It was always where he felt the most sane. At least there, it was the closest to knowing what peace could feel like even in the midst of the war.

Here, he was stuck between the same walls, constantly walking the same path throughout the club, seeing the same patrons, and trying to get whatever information he could either about the other workers or whatever drunk First Order officers would loudly spill along with their drinks usually.

He missed flying.

He missed his friends.

But at least he wasn’t alone in this. He still had you.

Poe had always been fond of you since the moment he met you. Your hard work and determination towards the Resistance inspired him, but your kindness and willingness to help others is what caught his eye. That’s why he had become so protective of you.

Sure, you were pretty badass already even without him being there— he still can’t help but think of the way you stood your ground and nearly snapped that man’s wrist in half when he laid his hand on you. And don’t get him started on how he would glance over at you when you took down your sparring opponent in the training room before all this was going on. Poe knew that you were able to hold your own physically, but Poe couldn’t risk anything happening to you.

That’s why he currently stands there, glowering at the way you laugh at something that Tyris Prick— sorry, Pic— says. Poe forced himself to look away.

Since being introduced to him, he started coming to the club more frequently. He always requested to see you, and Poe would watch miserably as you talked, laughed, and shared one or two drinks with him. Something about this guy did not settle right with Poe. He especially did not like the way he was looking at you right now.

When Poe asked Finn about any information on the guy, he said that he would look into it. He also noted that the name did sound familiar. Poe just wished he was able to hear back from him soon.

After checking his regular posts, Poe decides to glance back only to find that you and Tyris were nowhere to be found.

He is way more alert now— never had you taken off without at least waiting to give him a signal or even telling him straight up. And the fact that Tyris wasn’t there, either only made him feel more on edge.

Before Poe can move from his post in search of you, Jeza steps in front of him, placing her hand on his chest.

“You look a little lonely, handsome. Care for some company? I don’t charge much,” she smirks.

Poe sighs, grabbing her hand and pulling it off of him. “Not now, Jeza. I have to find Kyla—“

“Oh, please. I’m much more fun than she is, and I can actually play with you.”

Poe was getting agitated, this wasn’t the first time Jeza made advances towards him. Whether she was joking or not, he did not enjoy having to deal with her. Sure, others would offer fun nights and good company that Poe would reject. Hell, there was even Tin, but Poe at least knew she was joking.

What made him resent Jeza even more was the way she often talked about you. It was no secret there were a few girls who threw glares at you daily just because their customers would drool at the sight of you, but no one verbally claimed their dislike except for Jeza.

Poe only shakes his head and moves past her, in search of you.

Pushing past a group of patrons who are too busy watching the entertainment on stage, he nearly topples over a server droid. Poe displays a calm demeanor when in reality sirens are ringing in his ears. His senses block out his surroundings and he tries focusing them on locating you.

When he doesn’t spot you anywhere inside the club, he decides to check outside— very rarely do the girls leave the club during business hours, but they were still allowed to leave whenever. He glances to the window, and manages to spot a glimpse of you walking past it with Tyris.

The patience Poe had now snapped like a twig and he rushed outside. Just as you laugh at something Tyris says, Poe steps in front of you both.

“Tel—“

“You’re not supposed to leave without telling me, Kyla.” Poe says, his tone sharp.

Tyris knits his brows, almost in an amused way. “Sorry, who are you?”

“Tyris, this is Tel. He’s my escort.”

“Your escort? Well, as you can see she is in one piece. So if you’ll excuse us—“

At this point, everything happens in an instant. Poe grabs Tyris by his collar, and despite how much shorter he is, he manages to shove him up against the wall just slightly. Poe feels your hands on his arm, as you try to loosen his grip.

“Tel, stop.”

“I’m supposed to keep watch over you, Kyla. What if something happened?”

“We just went on a walk to get some fresh air. That’s it. Now let him go.”

Poe breathes sharply through his nose, still staring up at the man with an undisguised, furious look. In return, Tyris gives Poe a smug grin, one of those that clearly states he doesn't care simply because of his status. Poe had the sense to strangle him right then and there, but when he feels your hands squeeze his arm, he relents and releases Tyris.

Poe steps back, watching as Tyris smooths out his shirt. Poe feels your hands pull away as you step towards Tyris— and he doesn’t realize how much he misses the simple touch from you.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine, fine,” Tyris waves you off. “Your escort really takes his job seriously, doesn’t he?”

You force a thin smile. “He’s just very protective. Even when there’s no need to be.”

Shooting a glance at Poe, he looks down before clearing his throat.

“Forgive me, Ms. Tille. But I stand by my actions. Also, it’s actually time for you to retire to bed. You have an early morning, remember?”

You stare at Poe, and he knows you're pissed but he doesn’t care. He just wants to get you away from Tyris as quickly as possible. In response to Poe’s statement, you nod curtly, before turning to give Tyris an apologetic smile.

“Mr. Dara is right, Tyris. I do have an early morning and need to be well rested. Thank you for the evening walk.”

“Of course,” he takes your hand, kissing it. Poe refrains from rolling his eyes. “I shall see you soon.”

He then turns to Poe. “I’m assuming I’ll see more of you, Mr. Dara. Have a good night.”

Poe doesn’t respond, and only turns to follow you once you decide to head back inside. Poe stays behind you as you walk briskly to the elevator, and you don’t even say one word to him the entire ride up.

But as soon as the door to the bedroom closes, you face him and Poe is not prepared for the anger in your tone.

“What the kriff, Poe? Are you trying to blow our cover?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You can’t just go up to anyone and man handle them like that! Especially Mr. Pic!”

Poe scoffs, shaking his head as he places his hands on his hips. “I’m not sorry for what I did.”

“Poe—“

“There’s something about this guy, okay? I don’t know what it is, but he is not what he seems.”

“You’re being ridiculous. He’s been nothing but nice to me—“

“Please, I know you see how he acts to everyone that he thinks is below him. You saw how he looked down on me just for being a bodyguard.”

Your mouth gapes open, as if you’re trying to find something to reply with. Poe doesn’t give you the chance as he steps towards you.

“Just… trust me. There’s something going on. I’m going to find out—“

“Poe, please just stop.”

He says your name but you hold your hand up, stopping him.

“You can’t just jump to conclusions because you don’t like the guy.”

“But—“

“I’m serious, Poe. Just leave him alone, okay?” You say, clearly annoyed. ”We can’t blow our cover. We’ve been in this for a while now and what we got so far is working.”

You grab your robe, and Poe watches as you head to the refresher.

“Now, I’m going to shower and get ready to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You close the door behind you before Poe can retort, and he stands dumbfounded. Poe doesn’t know what the sickening feeling forming in his stomach and chest is, but he can’t stand it much longer. He leaves the room, and walks down the hallway out towards one of the balconies.

++++++

The cool, light breeze that brushes against Poe’s face is soothing, but the city air is nothing compared to the clean, brisk air of Ajan Kloss that he had grown accustomed to. Sure, the view was nice, but he could barely see the stars shining above. That’s what he truly missed, and it felt as if a part of him was empty without it. As he stares out to the city, seeing lights from buildings and speeders flying past, Poe can’t help but think of the argument.

How is it that you can’t see what he sees? That this guy is bad news and Poe has a feeling that soon his true intentions will be shown. Sure, the guy has done nothing but treat you decently, but the way Poe catches him staring at you every now and then gives him an uneasy feeling. Almost as if he was an Edan tiger and you were his next prey.

Poe didn’t like that one bit.

Sighing, Poe reaches into his pocket, and grabs a pack of cigarras. He stares down at them— he doesn’t even smoke but he figured that Tel would, which is why he carried them around seemingly for show. Poe turns one in the pack before he pulls it out, putting it between his lips as he searches for a lighter in his other pockets.

As the bitterness of the tabac hits his tongue while he finally finds the lighter and lights the cigarra, the door hisses open and Poe turns to see Rix, Tin, and Zoras walk out. Poe was relieved to see them, he at least got along with them and after Finn gave him some background information about them, he knew they were trustworthy.

Rix turned out to have one hell of a past. Though the quietest one, he is actually a master splicer and also managed to crack a few First Order codes and shut down some AT-AT walkers that were attacking the small town he was taking cover at. This put him really high on the First Order wanted list for sure, and he knew he had to go into hiding. That caught Poe by surprise for sure, considering how awkward and quiet the Rodian was.

Zoras had previously traveled around the galaxy, bouncing planet to planet to perform with the galactic circus she was a part of. Turns out, she was very talented: an acrobat, often showing off her agility and flexibility throughout shows. She was the star of the show, with her name and face plastered along every poster that was printed out. Although after an incident having to do with the First Order getting the circus disbanded caused them all to split, Zoras figured that being a featured dancer at the Crimson Club would be a way to lay low.

Tin, on the other hand, didn’t have much of a backstory. She had a way with words, Poe noticed— a natural pickpocket. And what better way to use those gifts than in the red-light district? Tin regularly conned her usual customers into paying more than what is usually offered for doing much less. Hell, if Poe didn’t know better he probably would have fallen for many of her tricks like the others did.

Each one of them had their talents, and Poe realized just how advantageous they would help make the Resistance against the First Order.

“Well, that’s a nasty habit, isn’t it Tel?” Zoras nods at the cigarra.

Poe sighs, before he pulls it out of his mouth and flicks it over the edge.

“Something on your mind, handsome?” Tin asks, leaning up against the railing of the balcony. “This wouldn’t have to do with our girl, Kyla, now would it?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, considering the way your jaw twitched at the mention of her name and the lack of eye contact, I would say it does have something to do with her.”

Poe really needed to work on his facial and body movements, he realizes.

“Let me ask you guys something,” he turns, now facing the three of them. “What do you think of that Tyris Pic?”

“I don’t think about him at all,” Rix states bluntly. Poe scoffs a laugh, patting his shoulder.

“He’s handsome, though, gives you a run for your money,” Tin jokes, nudging Poe with her elbow.

“Why are you asking?” Zoras tilts her head.

“Isn’t it obvious? Tel here is tired of sharing The Sparkling Kyber with him.”

“No, that’s not it,” Poe quickly denies.

“Oh, then what is it?”

“There’s something sketchy about this guy. I can’t figure it out yet, but he’s bad news.”

The three glance at one another, clearly skeptical at his statement. Part of him doesn’t blame them, of course he sounds ridiculous when there isn’t any given proof yet. Zoras is the first to speak, crossing her arms as she steps forward.

“Tel, are you sure this isn’t about something else?”

“Like what?”

“That you’re jealous of Mr. Pic,” Rix says, simply. Poe is quick to face Rix, who only shrugs. “Just saying.”

“I’m not jealous—“

“You know what this reminds me of?” Rix intercedes, raising a scaled green finger. “Auren and Lorn.”

“Oh my stars, right! I forgot about them.” Tin pushes off the railing of the balcony. “Didn’t they head somewhere together?”

“Who are Auren and Lorn?” Poe asks.

“Auren used to be a dancer here. And Lorn was one of her regular clients. But he wasn’t just that.”

“They were in love. Auren used to give him private dances, and then slowly stopped giving her other usuals dances as well,” Zoras sighs. “It was plainly obvious to everyone.”

“One of her other, more high ranking customers turned out to be a General for the First Order. He wasn’t too happy about it, and threatened the two of them and Boz.”

“But then they took off. Just disappeared one night. Everyone says that they skipped the planet to be together, but others say that the First Order grabbed them before they could.”

Everyone stays quiet after that. Whether or not the latter happened, the fact that the First Order was involved sent chills throughout Poe’s body. It just seems that you both can’t get away from them.

“You may not see it, but we do, Tel,” Zoras says. “We see how protective the escorts are, but you can be on a whole different level when it comes to Kyla.”

“I told you to dial it down,” Tin sings.

“There’s nothing to dial down,” Poe huffs, slightly annoyed. “I’m just doing my job.”

“And taking it more seriously than others would. Plus, you look at her differently.”

Poe wants to deny it, he really does. Deep down, something is keeping him from doing so, but he doesn’t know exactly what that is.

So he only shakes his head, not even sparing a glance at his three friends— which Poe realizes is the first time he’s actually thought of them as friends.

“I’m going to bed, I’ll see you guys down at the club tomorrow.”

He doesn’t give them a chance to say anything, because he just has to get out of there as quickly as he can.

Poe doesn’t know why everything Rix, Zoras, and Ton said to him affects him in such a way. Sure, he is very protective of you— okay, maybe he can be a little too overbearing. But that’s because he doesn’t want you to get hurt or in any type of trouble.

But… what if it is something more? Or is it just the fact that you’re the only familiar thing in his life at this moment? Were Rix, Zoras, and Tin right?

Then he realizes… shit, they are right.

Because every night since before the mission even started, he felt this tug towards you. He always had to make sure you were okay, that you had eaten or were prepared for everything. He always glanced over at you in case you decided you needed him and he would quickly drop whatever he was doing just to help you. You became his first priority.

Not to mention how he often thought about you even if you were right next to him— how he loved hearing your laugh or seeing you smile, the smell of the perfume you wore slowly became his favorite scent. And it wasn’t just his thoughts, you also invaded his dreams. They started off as just simple dreams, but then over time since he’d gotten to know you, they became something… more. And he often scolded himself for it because he shouldn’t think of you in those ways. You were his partner and he knew there were boundaries set.

As Poe continues down the hall, he finds himself automatically in front of your door. He should apologize, right? For almost putting you guys at risk? Although he doesn’t regret shoving Mr. Prick up against the wall, he knows it made you upset. And since you’re all he has in this moment, he can’t risk something like this getting in between you both.

He stares at your door, and though he lifts his hand up, he doesn’t move it an inch closer. He was sure you were asleep by now— it was late, and you had been spending your nights with Tyris. This was probably the earliest you got to bed this week.

Poe doesn’t want to ruin whatever sweet dreams you are having. He knows he should apologize, but your well-being right now is important. With a heavy sigh and guilt-bearing weight in his chest, he turns away to go to his own room.

When he dreams that night, it’s filled with the wonderful sound of your laughter and the beautiful sight of your smile— at something he said and not Tyris.

++++++

FIC TAGLIST: @tintinwrites @sheridans-dynamos @agoldpixie @shakespeareanwannabe @starkiller-queen @netflixandsnuggle @nowheredreamer @blackhawklove @jennibradley @rewritingstars @chewymoustachio @iamaunicorn4704 @spider-starry @roserrys @spectre-leader @loveisjustfortheweak @fandomqueenlove

#poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron au #poe dameron x f!reader #moulin rouge!au

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bunny-wk-fanfic · 4 years

Note

Hey I am glad you are doing okay, I was worried for you. I would like to request a Kagome and Dante (Devil May Cry). Maybe Dante thinks he needs to save Kagome from some demons, but Kagome got it covered with her abilities? I love when Kagome kicks ass. Stay safe.

Been a long time since I’ve done anything DMC wise, hope this still entertains you.

Leaning against the tree, he could honestly say he was enjoying the show. How could he not? It appealed to every part of him.

The job he had taken had been slightly restricting in that it brought him to Tokyo, a sudden increase in missing young women and high school girls had become a cause for concern. Especially since there were no ‘normal’ explanations behind the disappearances. So when he had been asked, he took the job.

Arms crossing over his chest, he smirked when the petite figure easily took down a brute at least three times her size, wincing in male sympathy when she brought her knee up sharply between his legs only to give him a quick kick in the head. He bet those heels gave an extra sting to the sudden blow.

If he didn’t know half the women in his life, he would question how this woman was able to do half the stunts she was pulling off in those heels. But damn, if they and her pants didn’t make her legs seem endless, the pants being skin tight also didn’t leave much to the imagination. Though he did wonder how her breezy little top didn’t shift or reveal anything so far.

He tensed when the ugliest of the bunch launched itself at the woman, it’s intent to outright kill rather than kidnap as had been obvious in the beginning. Hands reaching for his guns, he barely drew them when the woman spun, arms out and a quick burst of bright light filled the area. The creature’s screech quickly ended to echo eerily in the air as a pile of ash landed at the woman’s feet.

“What the fuck are you?” the ‘brains’ of the group cried out, quick to scramble away from the woman when she turned back to face them.

Face set in an upset scowl, the woman scoffed. “If you have to ask that, then you’re about a 100 years too young to think you can take me on.” her stance shifted ever so subtly, a stance he was familiar with, it spoke of experience in fighting. Not that he doubted she couldn’t, if what with the past 15 minutes were anything to go by.

Shivering, he felt the lingering traces of that ‘light’ it was the oddest sensation he had ever felt from a human, and he was sure she was completely human as he sensed nothing demonic from her.

“So, I’m giving you this chance and this chance only.” fingers flexed at her sides, gaze locked on the leader of the group.

“Oh yeah? To what?” said leader scoffed, wiping a small trail of blood from his chin.

“To release the women you’ve already stolen, if they’re still in your possession, and you’ll have the ability to walk away alive.” a brow ticked when the group snickered and laughed at her proposition.

He would have taken it, knowing when to cut his losses. What the woman was offering was more than gracious, he would have simply beat the information out of them, and depending on their answers, may or may not of let them live. It would depend on his mood upon learning the truth.

“I’ll enjoy breaking you personally.” the leader smirked. “First one to get her, I’ll let them have my seconds.”

Tensing at the words, he slowly withdrew his weapons, fully intent on getting rid of the muscle and maiming the leader. He wouldn’t need the use of certain parts of his anatomy to reveal where the women were, which was hopefully holed up somewhere alive.

“Trust me woman, you’ll be a sloppy mess when I’m done with you.” he made a show of licking his fangs, cracking his knuckles to draw attention to his claws.

With a flick of her wrist, her hair was tossed over her shoulder. “How juvenile.” and just like that, she was taking them on single-handedly. Her moves were graceful, using the bare minimum of energy, in fact, she used her enemies energy against them. It was actually sort of seductive, though not in the way Trish fought, but it had its appeal. There was nothing hotter than seeing a woman kicking ass in his personal opinion, so he was content to watch. That was, until he saw one of them sneaking up on her from behind, and he finally saw fit to step in.

Drawing his weapons, a shot rang through the air causing all to turn and face him.

“And who the fuck are you?” the leader spat, snarling at this point and losing control of his human appearance.

“Just someone out for a night stroll and saw this attractive woman in a spot of trouble, so I thought to lend a helping hand.” he used Ivory to give a mock salute, grinning at the last three as he had just taken out one of the brutes.

The leader lifted his nose into the air, making it obvious he was actually scenting the air. “Helping hand my ass! You’re trying to pouch our target!”

A snort from the woman drew their gaze to her. “...like that was going to happen.”

“I gotta agree with her, looks like you were getting your asses handed to ya.” he smirked, being sure to wink at the woman when he stopped next to her. His smirk grew at her obvious confusion.

“No bitch-!” before he could complete his comment, the leader gagged when a fist landed a solid hit in his throat. Hands scrambling at the now bruised flesh, he chocked and attempted to direct the two next to him. They appeared to have some form of intelligence, if their immediate jump into action was anything to go on.

“By the Kami, he complains a lot.” the woman slipped next to him, easily keeping up to his own fighting style.

“Well you did say he was young, and brats do enjoy pitching fits when they don’t get their way.” smirk still in place, he observed the smaller brute eye him, though their gaze would shoot to the woman that was easily handling the larger of the two with some trepidation.

There was a soft snort from behind. “Speaking from personal experience?” if it weren’t for the teasing tone in her voice, he was sure she was taking verbal shots at him.

“The likes of which you wouldn’t believe, Honey.” stepping back, he folded his arms over his chest when he saw that the two brutes decided to take on the bigger threat. A woman as tall as 5’5’’, he was sure at least a couple of inches were due to her shoes.

“Honey? I wasn’t aware that we were on close terms.” with a wave of her hand, a shimmering barrier popped up around them, leaving her time to turn and face him, blue eyes shining in the dim light from the distant lamp.

“Would you prefer babe? Sexy? Gorgeous?” with a slight waggle of his brows, he chuckled at her scoff and eye roll.

“...red clad, silver haired jerks… I’m surrounded by them…” her mumbled words were curious, but he didn’t get a chance to ask what she meant as she pulled out a cell phone, making him wonder where she kept it hidden. Any attempt to find a pocket had her snapping her fingers. “Oi! You want to keep those pretty eyes in your head?”

Leaning down to be closer to her height, his smirk grew when a cute blush colored her cheeks. “You think I got pretty eyes?”

She didn’t deign to answer him, instead choosing to talk to the person on the other end of her call. “Yeah, found the one responsible, he’s here with two others. Just track the GPS from this call.”

Realizing that his attempted catch was actually bait, the leader croaked out in an attempt to call the others into leaving. No sooner had they turned their backs to flee, did the barrier shift to encase them instead.

“Nifty trick. How are you doing that?” a low hiss escaped him when he wrapped his knuckles against the semi-solid surface of the barrier a few time. It stung a lot more than he thought it would!

“I thought with you being half demon, you would know what a holy person is capable of.” her cell phone was mysteriously tucked away again. Where, he had no idea though he seriously wanted to know.

“Honey, I’ve met my fair share of ‘holy’ people,” he made a show of eyeing her from top to bottom. She was attractive. Long black hair, that now looked wild from fighting these demons, framed her delicate face that housed her surprisingly vivid blue eyes, surprising in her obvious Asian features, and plump lips. She was slim, though there was subtle definition that spoke of a more active lifestyle than most women. It wasn’t as defined as Lady, but it was there. “And let me tell you, I’ve never seen a nun dress like you do.”

“I’m not a nun. I’m a miko; shrine maiden, shameness, holy warrior. Take your pick.” at his low whistle, a brow rose in silent question.

“A miko? Didn’t think any were still around. You're my first.” he stroked his chin, attempting to recall having met another like her.

Head canted to the side, she rolled her eyes. “...bet that doesn’t pass your lips often…”

Grinning at hearing the words, once again leaning down closer to her level. “Honey, you’ll need to buy me a drink and dinner before asking about my lips and their possible activities.”

Blue eyes narrowed on him, not in anger, but in contemplation. Her nose quickly wrinkled as her lips pinched. Soon she flinched back as she shook her head, as if attempting to shake off some thought, groaning only for it to end in a whine.

“You okay there, Honey?” he was honestly amused by her expressions. Trish, due to her nature, was poor at expressing herself save for extreme moments. As for Lady, she also seemed to have a set of emotions that she was willing to publicly display, everything else were kept private. But this woman, now that the three were contained, was easily expressing her thoughts and emotions.

“Please, shut up. With your words and appearance, my mind went down a forbidden path.” she quickly pinched the bridge of her nose, once again muttering under her breath.

“Miko, your ability to attract riff-raff with little effort never ceases to entertain me.” the voice drew their attention to an approaching male.

Dante whistled lowly at the amount of power this male carried with ease. The male was obviously not human, demon of some kind, wore a business suit that was tailored to his size. Despite his apparent Japanese appearance, he was tall, standing perhaps at his own height.

“Does that include you, Sesshoumaru? Remember, you came to me in the end, not the other way around.” there was a tilt to her lips, a teasing tone to her words.

A brow was merely raised as the now identified male stopped next to her, golden eyes slowly closing when he seemed to realize that her words must have held some truth. Dante blinked when those eyes turned to him. “...I’ve heard of you, son of Sparda.”

“Same, son of the General.” smirking at the slight narrowing of those golden eyes, he turned his attention back to the Miko when Sesshoumaru approached the three contained males. “He always this excitable?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” her attention was more focused on her acquaintance and the three males, waiting for a signal from Sesshoumaru. The moment she had it, the barrier was down and the three were being escorted by more of Sesshoumaru’s agents.

While he was happy that the threat was taken care of, the reason he took on this job was an attempt to find those that went missing. “What about the missing women and girls?”

“They will reveal where they are.” Sesshoumaru spoke up, pulling out a wallet as he approached them. “One way or another. I believe this was the amount this ‘job’ offered you in finding the females.”

Dante didn’t accept the money, though it was tempting. “Why give me this?”

“Allow the families to keep their money, they will need it upon the conclusion of learning the truth of what happened to their females. This paltry amount is of little consequence to me.” the money was once again offered.

Going over the words, Dante figured it was true. Learning that demons were real would be traumatizing for those women and girls, the medical bills for any injuries they suffered was also going to add up. “Alright. Guess I can take you out to dinner now, Honey!”

“We never agreed to any such thing. Nor am I interested in learning of your illicit affairs.” offering a mock salute, she spun about and began walking away, no doubt home being her destination at this hour.

“Miko.” the single utterance had the woman freezing, shoulders hunching as she turned to toss a stink eye at the stoic male, it darkened at seeing his smirk.

“Fine!” the words were growled through clenched teeth. “Come along, Oh great son of Sparda! I shall direct you to where you can receive the best accommodations in payment to seeing to the return of our missing women folk!”

Snickering under his breath, it became outright laughter when her ire was quickly directed at him. It didn’t stop him from make his way to her side, following her out of the park and to where said accommodations were no doubt going to be. “Honey, you’re a sure spit fire, I’m gonna enjoy getting to know you.”

“Don’t, you’re free to leave at your earliest convenience.” she was practically stomping along the pavement, grumbling under her breath about brats and the males in her life. “I already babysit one silver haired idiot with a fondness for red, I don’t need another in my life.” she gave him a quick look over, brows pinched. “Do you always use guns? Or do you have other weapons?”

“I have a sword, why?” he was honestly curious, wondering why what weapons he used had to do with their current conversation.

“Great. No doubt you’ll meet each other sooner rather than later and start a fricken pissing contest about who has the bigger sword.” she started mumbling again, her anger causing tiny sparks to fly from her.

Dante was honestly entertained, and so glad that this job didn’t go as planned. Normally when things didn’t go as planned, the shit hit the fan leaving him with more work to do. “Well, size is great and all, but it’s useless without technique.” smirking at the look she tossed him, it was downright venomous, and she looked ready to spit fire, he relaxed as they continued on. “But don’t worry about that, Honey, you still have to buy me that drink first.” tossing a wink at her, he laughed as she sputtered for any sort of come back.

#fanfiction #games #Devil May Cry #inuyasha #Kagome Higurashi #Sesshoumaru #Dante #Dante Sparda

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halfablacky · 4 years

Text

I think that all the writers who saw the series, think of a way to fix this scene, and I am not different.

It's my first time writing in another language and posting something here on tumblr, so forgive me if it had so much mistakes...

Anyway, I hope you like it!

We can head to the coast

He goes to the coast anyway, never looking back, not really stopping to pick up any stories with the dwarves, not wanting anyone to question his tears.

He went down the mountain in a different way, not looking at the rock that sat in the crepuscule of the previous day and poured his feelings out to Geralt, a rare moment of weakness, hoping the witcher would have some idea why he was still there, for who.

He didn't expect an answer, but he got one anyway, even if it wasn't verbal, Geralt was never verbal, he showed how much he cared about Jaskier's feelings the moment he turned around and followed Yennefer like an abandoned puppy, crying at your feet hoping to receive a little of affection. It was unnerving, it was disappointing. He went to sleep hugging the lute wondering what it would be like if he had a real body by his side to cling to, his body.

So in the end, chaos reigns, as it always does when the witch appears, and Geralt takes out all frustration caused by her, and he just managed to say: this is not fair. Because it wasn't, it never was, but the witcher didn't want to know it when he uttered the hateful words:

If life could give me a blessing, it would be taking you out of my hands.

He was going to give Geralt his blessing, however much his heart broke, however much the tears flowed, however much his feet ached with each step taken away from the witcher, he continued, saying goodbye to Roach on the way to the village.

Drinking all his coins, playing and singing parodies of his songs in a dragged and confused voice degrading the witcher who threw his feelings in the trash, crying so hard at the end that nothing but rambling grumbles came out between his lips, receiving bread and drinks at the end instead of coins.

Okay, he deserved it, it was a terrible presentation.

He woke up in the hall behind the tavern, his head hurt, a black eye and painful bruises on his belly, he didn't quite remember why, but he could imagine that the customers really hated the last performance.

He dusted off his clothes, took a deep breath with the sinking feeling in his stomach, the anger that replaced sadness, put the lute on his back and left. He would go to the coast, he didn't need Geralt to try to find out what pleases him.

He walked from village to village, city to city, singing anything but the praises of the White Wolf, and when asked, when he couldn't refuse and the songs were sung without all the feelings normally shown by the witcher's bard, the peoples stopped to ask for them.

He sang 'Her sweet kiss' once, his voice broke at the end, and he left before anyone could ask why he was crying.

It didn't take more than a month to reach the coast, he was approached by bandits at least twice on his journey, but he managed to arrive in his destination in full, at least physically.

His interior on the other hand was a mess, anger was replaced by resignation now, a deep hurt that he could not sing away from regardless of his abilities, a heart in pieces that he did not think he would be able to try to assemble the pieces for a long time still.

He was sitting on the grass now, looking out to sea, the waves crashing calmly against the rocks, sweeping the white sand. He had been doing this for a week now, hoping that the pleasure of doing the simplest and most mundane things would come back to him, removing the lute from the back and the leather case, the wood a little dry now after so long without polishing and proper care, gently pulling one string and then the other, adjusting the instrument on your lap and absently fingering for some inspiration.

Then he heard footsteps behind him, and heard the voice before turning to see if maybe he would be mugged a third time and what could be taken away now. It wasn't a thief.

"Jaskier…"

The hoarse, low voice, looking so sad and fragile and vulnerable, made the bard's heart jump in his chest in a way it hasn't been for a long time now.

"Go away." He heard himself saying, so much sadder, fragile, vulnerable and tired, than the witcher. "I cannot give you your blessing if you continue to follow me."

"Jaskier, I…"

"I gave you everything, Geralt." He interrupted, pressing the lute to his chest, searching the instrument for some base, something to hold on to before he fell more deeply into the well of despair that plagued his dying soul. "I gave you my voice, I gave you my company, my friendship, I gave you my time, so much, so much time…"

"Jaskier, please…"

"Twenty-two years I've been by your side, helping you, making people see you the way I did, and I didn't need to be magically tied to you for that, I chose, I chose to be by your side all this time, not wanting more than your friendship back, giving up having more than that after Yennefer came into your life." He confessed, he couldn't stop, he couldn't hold his tongue now that Geralt was finally listening. After twenty-two years, the witcher finally stopped to listen to him.

He heard the witcher approach.

"But you made me realize clearly on that mountain that not even the simplest thing as a worthy travel companion I could have of you. I am a burden to you, I always have been, I thought I was helping you when in fact I just got you into more and more trouble." He felt his emotions now start to overflow, cursing his previous desire to want to feel again because now he was feeling, and it was too much, he didn't know if he could take it.

"Jaskier, no…"

"I don't know why you're here, but if it's an apology for digging your shit all this time, then I'm sorry, now go away, please." Asked finally releasing the lute, without force pulling his legs to his chest and hugging, hiding his face between them, not wanting to give Geralt the pleasure of seeing him collapse, even though he knew that the witcher could probably smell his tears, that he could see his body trembling and hear the sobs he was trying so hard to stifle, hoping that Geralt could have enough decency to let him suffer in peace, but the witcher didn’t move away, his steps were approaching much faster now, and before he could scream for him to go, a pair of strong arms are suddenly holding him.

A wave crashes violently on the rocks, the salty air rises hard and droplets of water splash on his hair. Both are silent, for the first time in over a month, Jaskier is helpless enough not to know what to say. Fortunately, he is not the one who breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry." He heard the whisper that made his heart take another excited leap. "Please, Jaskier, I'm so sorry…"

And Jaskier thought he was definitely a sucker with no sense of self-preservation because those words, so sincere, so fragile and broken, were enough for the bard to begin to forgive the witcher. He didn't know it could get any better until Geralt opened his mouth again.

"I'm sorry about the mountain, nothing I said was your fault, neither Yennefer, or Djinn, the child surprise, it was all me, Jaskier, it's all my fault."

"Then why ..." He stopped before elaborating, closing his mouth so hard that his teeth chattered with an audible sound. He didn't want to ruin that, not yet. Not when Geralt's arms were holding him so tightly and expressing himself with real words this time.

But he didn't have to elaborate, Geralt knew exactly what he was asking.

"I was angry ... I was frustrated and upset and you were just there, looking so happy and I just ... I-"

"I wasn't happy, Geralt, I was trying to cheer you up, I was trying to be your friend!" He released, altered, trying to push the witcher away as much as it hurt, but Geralt did not let him, on the contrary, tightened his body. "Everything I have done so far, you emotionally constipated brute idiot, has been trying to be your friend!"

He shouted, unable to contain his tears.

"I'm sorry, shh… I'm sorry, I know it now, I found out after you left, but it was too late, you were already gone, I've been looking for you, following your steps, because I wanted to apologize, you don't deserved what I said."

"I know, I really don't..." He murmured, trying to wipe away the tears, sighing in surprise when he felt the witcher's rough thumb doing it for him, closing his eyes tightly and watching Geralt lock up, continuing a much softer moment later. He only knew that the witcher was no longer trying to wipe his tears away, when he realized that they were no longer falling. Geralt's fingers remained there.

"I ... I was never very kind to you, and I'm sorry for that too, but if you let me, I can try to change that." Geralt said holding his face in his hands, so soft, so gentle, so scared and hopeful, and Jaskier gathered the courage to open his eyes again, seeing the witcher staring back at him, waiting.

"I ..." He whispered uncertainly, feeling a big hand slip from his face to the nape of the neck, his fingers tangling in the most sensitive threads there and making him shiver. His heart sped up, was that what he think it was? He licked his lips, uncertain. "If you are going to do what I think you are going to do-"

"I intend to do what you think I am going to do."

He moved a little closer, their noses almost touching.

"So if you're going to do what I know you're going to do, I hope it's not just trying to make me feel better, it's not just overnight." He whispered, closing his eyes, raising his own hands to the witcher's face, feeling the roughness of his beard in the palm of his hands and not being able to think of any other place he wanted to put them now.

"It is not."

"I can't take it if you run back to Yennefer when she shows up again. "

"I won't."

"Good."

And he initiated the contact himself, leaning forward until his lips brushed Geralt's, soft, scared, hoping it was the right thing to do, and then the witcher held his neck tighter and she pulled, sticking his mouth entirely to him, a kiss full of feelings, those feelings that witchers supposedly shouldn't have, full of guilt and excuse, full of love, passion and desire, and took him like a hurricane.

A wave hit the rocks again, and they parted, their foreheads touching, noses brushing, gasping breaths connecting.

"Fuck…" He spoke, very eloquently.

"Fuck." Geralt echoed, a certain amusement in his voice making the bard laugh. Leaning down to touch the soft lips again. "Thanks. For forgiving me."

Jaskier just hummed, happy, relaxed, enjoying the affection of the witcher's rough fingers on his skin as he delicately explored his features with his fingers.

"What do we do now?"

"You said you wanted to go to the coast…"

Jaskier laughed.

“We are on the coast, Geralt."

"Hmm ... so there is nothing stopping us to take advantage of it."

Geralt whispered, turning his face to the horizon and following him to see the various colors in the sky reflecting on the sea, the sun descending beyond the sea, the birds soaring through the clouds, a beauty he had not been able to see before.

Geralt's arms wrapped around him again and Jaskier dropped his head on the witcher's shoulder with a contented sigh.

"Yes… we can find what pleases us now."

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #my story #oneshot #it's the first time i'm doing this #fluff #geralt apologizes #sad jaskier #hope tou enjoyed this #episode 1x6 rare species

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green-eyed-whumpster · 4 years

Text

My OC Universe: Rowan 58

I accidentally uploaded the wrong chapter. I’m sorry. I share custody of a single brain cell with my friend and they currently have it for the week.

Chapter 58 Summary: Sweet, sweet, sexy catharsis! Rowan finally snaps in the face of his abuse. (Taggers: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @much-ado-about-whumping, @abitefullofeverything, @whump-me-all-night-long, @sky-or-something-idfk, @tears-and-lilies)

Trigger Warnings: Reference to previous abuse, verbal abuse, dehumanisation.

As promised, Rowan lurched awake to find a guard rousing him for Marie and Cordelia. Alexander was absent this time, a difference that unsettled Rowan. He was so used to seeing him and his mother together that it felt wrong when they were not.

“Oh, my dear husband,” Marie smirked, tone sarcastic and cruel. “You do not look well at all!” He growled at her and jerked, angrily releasing some of his fury through the useless act. He looked mad, dark rings under his eyes, a flood of dried blood from his nose to his chest. “Please allow me a small experiment,” She said, letting her careful eyes wander to Rowan. “I was hoping to ask you both a question.” Cordelia lowered William’s gag as sharp footsteps clicked along the hallways. William’s face lit up at the prospect of rescue and he leaned forward. “Hey! I’m the King! Get in here this instant!” He demanded, not considering the fact that the sound was present before Marie ordered the removal of his muzzle, and so wasn’t likely to belong to a sympathetic creature. As if to accentuate this, Marie chuckled softly, rolling her eyes as the footsteps stopped right outside the door and the tall shadow of the figure obscured the doorway. Mere moments before revealing himself Rowan caught a whiff of a familiar perfume, placing the name as Merek’s face appeared and he stood beside Marie. “You-Mer-how dare you betray me like this!” William roared and Cordelia curled her fingers into his, now unkempt hair, ripping his head back and forcing a whine from his throat. “If you do not remain silent,” She rumbled dangerously. “Then we will take extreme precautions to keep you silent.” The threat was clear. And William wasn’t finished with use of his tongue just yet. He had to content himself with glowering at his duplicitous advisor, perhaps hoping he combust from the sheer hatred seething from his face. “You never mentioned that your tradeswoman was a mercenary thug.” He snarled at Marie. “She certainly has her uses.” The Queen replied proudly, smiling at Cordelia. “What a strangely satisfying sight.” Merek commented curiously, drawing attention to him. “I think it could only be made better with tears.” Marie smirked. “As if I would ever allow you to see me humiliated like that.” William growled, earning a grin from the pair. “We’ll see,” Marie sighed, picking at an invisible imperfection on her thumbnail. “I’ve reconsidered what I said the previous evening,” She said, catching the unwavering attention of both imprisoned creatures. “If I were to say that one of you would be released, who would you choose?” It was a pretty obvious question, and no one was surprised to hear William speak first. “Me, of course.” Marie glanced towards Rowan, who’s face had fallen and had curled against the wall, already defeated. “What about you?” He glanced up and shrugged. “Why would you choose me? I’m not even worth the dirt under your shoe.” “What if I weren’t to choose? What if I made you both choose?” She asked. “I am the King. I should leave!” William demanded. “How am I supposed to rival that? Even with the promise of death, I couldn’t face condemning another to it.” Rowan sighed softly. “I’d strangle the slut myself if it meant I could take back my throne!” Something in that moment shattered.

Rowan could almost physically feel it, his soul, cracking from the strain of hiding and suppressing his feelings for so long. Suddenly his breathing came fast, and he felt unfamiliar rage course through his veins. “You never loved me at all, did you?” He asked softly, retrieving a scoff from the King. “You were a pretty little cock-sleeve. And a pretty poor one at that.” “You gave me jewellery, you trusted me in your bed, you showered me with praise, and what, it was all pretend?” William sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. “It was like having a puppy.” He said. “You keep if loyal, but when you’re tired of it you drown it.”

Rowan had been compared to animals before. He had been used in metaphors like this before. He had been completely dehumanised to his face before. But now it was just too much. Too humiliating to realise he was, and always had been, nothing. “You tortured me!” He yelled, feeling his voice crack as it was raised above its normal pitch. “You-you allowed your men to ravage me and humiliate me! And made me believe that you were saving me from them when in fact you were just transferring ownership!” Tears pricked his eyes like needles, tears that had been forced down almost since he arrived.

“I was abused, by you, and your staff, and your men, I was raped! And you blamed me for it! Forced me to witness as you had them executed, threatening to do the same to me if I ‘let’ it happen again! You forced me to get drunk to entertain you and your friends! You let everyone talk down to me and talk about me like I wasn’t there! Or like I couldn’t hear what they were saying, like I didn’t understand every word they called me! You poisoned me for your own entertainment!”

The hatred and frustration broke over his lashes and he struggled to keep his voice from wobbling and relinquishing his power before he had finished. “I was forced to beg for you to rape and abuse me! To thank you for the opportunity to be taken! To grovel at your feet while you fed me scraps of your food like a pet! I wasn’t even human to you! Just some creature that no one would object to you mistreating! You gave me to your friend to fuck! And when he tried to murder me you had me punished! I was refused any morsel of dignity while your advisor had the soldiers line up and remind me of what you claimed to save me from!”

He felt the eyes on him, every one, and turned to catch the eye of one of the guards at the door. “I remember you!” He chuckled in a weak attempt to cover the way he was falling apart. “You called me a desperate whore, good for only one thing! Was I? Was I good?” They had the shame to look away, turning their back on their mistake. “You had me branded! I will permanently be marked as your property! Men sign their family crest on their weapons, or their silverware, or their clothes! You put it on a person and reduced them to an item you owned. You tricked me into thinking that you had saved me from there, too! That you had missed and desired me! But it was all a ploy to get your stupid, uneducated, whore of a consort to actually believe that you cared for him! You tricked me into feeling some sort of fondness, or care for you. I felt sorry for you when we were first brought down here! I empathised with you, explained away your cruel words as simply being unused to not being in control, but no, that was just you when you were no longer bothered by how your creature felt!” There was a brief pause before a thought occurred to Rowan and he scoffed. “You call me ‘pet’.” He whispered, sniffing heavily as his eyes locked with William’s. “I would wager, I would say money but it’s obvious by how you came to possess me that I have none, so I would bet my life, that you don’t know how old I am,” He said and laughed. “Let alone…tell me, William, what’s my name?” Silence. “What is it?” He roared, pulling against the chains. “Why on Earth would I know?” William replied. Voice just soft enough that Rowan could realise with relief that he was maybe startled by this barrage of his sins against the boy. “Why would you? It’s just a person. A human being that you claimed as your own purely because he was pretty. If I were an average-looking thing you would have left me to die in that barracks. With blood on my ass, and sperm in my hair, and snot on my face. And never would have even given a second thought to the person I was or the people who…the-the people who…” Missed me. “I hate you.” He whispered after a moment. “I despise you. I abhor you. I detest you. I’ve killed two people who both tried to kill me first and felt like dying because of it. But, I think if I killed you, if I strangled you myself, I might finally be able to sleep at night.” He sobbed, too afraid to turn his gaze from anyone else but William. “Not even the Gods could have dreamt up a creature as cruel as you,” He gasped finally, the anger flickering out of him like a candle flame in a breeze. “You are a manifestation of sin, and evil, and sadism.” He felt cold now. Empty. Like all that had sustained him for the three years since he was stolen from Peter, was his suppressed disgust, and now that it was gone, he had nothing left inside of him.

A piece died with every time he was raped.

More of his innocence stripped away, until he was left, a shell, a dried leaf that William crumbled into dust just to hear the sound of him break.

#whump #medieval whump #my writing #oc #Rowan #William #Marie #Cordelia #dehumanisation

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darklesmylove · 4 years

Text

out of spite | jurdan

post queen of nothing, cardan asks jude about why she killed balekin

enjoy! <3

***

Signing document after document painfully slowly, it seemed the High Queen couldn't manage to keep her focus on the stack of parchment and ink in front of her, thoughts swimming in a sea of memories. Even months after defeating Madoc and the Court of Teeth, Jude still couldn't quite believe the events that had transpired to bring her to the present. Even further, she couldn't believe what the present actually was.

It was everything she had dreamed, no, lusted over, for quite possibly her whole entire life. Sitting atop thrones, giving orders ringing with authority that no one questioned, wearing a crown that deemed her High Queen for all to see and no one to question. And of course, the small matter of sharing all of it with the man she had loved for far longer than she would ever admit.

The corner of her mouth quirked ever so slightly, a silent amusement at the memory of their antics. It seemed a lifetime ago, the clash of heavy practice swords, words snarling from her lips detailing her defiance, holding a knife to the hollow of his throat. Their path to now hadn't been easy, in fact that was an understatement in itself, but it led her to him, the person who understood her like no one else had or ever would.

A knock at the door startled her from her reminiscing, a grating clearing of her throat filling the silence as she promptly put her pen down, calling, "Come in."

The heavy oak eased open, the Bomb appearing from the other side relatively stone faced.

"Is something wrong?" Jude's brow furrowed immediately, hand moving to clutch at the dagger on her belt on instinct.

"Cardan's requested to see you." Her head tilted slightly in directional indication, giving any nothing. "He's in your chambers."

Before she could protest and attempt to pry any more information from her fellow spy, the Bomb disappeared in the span of a blink. The High Queen could feel the initial frown settling further into her features. It was uncommon for Cardan to send someone else for her rather than seek her out himself. The unusualness of it all had her up from her chair and out the door, steps not quite hurried enough to alarm the various guards and court members that milled through the hallways, but still rushed to get her there in no more than a minute. She couldn't fool herself into dismissing the tug of anxiousness in her lower abdomen, twisting and coiling at the ready.

After a deep exhale, the door slid open under the guidance of her hand, revealing Cardan slumped on the couch, hair tousled and eyes almost haggard with exhaustion as he met her stare. She hesitated, fingertips pressing further into the curling knots of the heavy oak that they rested on. His lack of enthusiasm or verbal response was already worrisome.

"You wanted me?" The question was cautious, a line cast out in the tense air between them, sinking slowly until it settled into silence.

His eyelids pressed shut, a crease appearing between his so carefully manicured brows.

"Why did you do it, Jude? That is the one thing I haven't been able to let go of no matter how I've tried, to fathom why you would go against my one single request of you. If you loved me then like I truly believe, then why, my sweet villain. My darling god."

The decibel of his words had descended softer and softer to no more than a haunted whisper by the end; it was a question that had no doubt plagued him for months. She didn't have to ask to know exactly what that question was. Her chest tightened, an invisible weight settling at the crest of her collarbone and gripping at her breath, almost painfully so.

Slowly, she turned, shutting the door behind her with a metallic click of the locks. He ran a hand through already tousled black curls, looking about as miserable as she felt at the imminent conversation they desperately needed to have. Her steps glided across the floorboards without a sound, bringing her to the open seat next to his before slowly sinking down into the adjacent cushion. Teeth sliced deep into her lower lip, blooming pain across her mouth that grounded her amidst the panic zipping through her veins.

It was obvious Cardan noticed her tension, something softening behind his eyes in reaction.

"I don't love you any less," he softly said. "I just need to know, Jude."

A tremor ran down her spine. Even the barest thought of what happened in the Undersea made icy claws wrap around her throat, a cold that she would never be able to shake slithering through her bones. And even worse, the ghost of the slimy feeling of Balekin's lips against hers as he gripped her face with wicked talons.

So, so much worse.

"It was never out of spite, Cardan," she began in a kind of tentative voice that she hadn't spoken in in years. He nodded, eyes glimmering with sincerity as his hand came to rest over her own. Despite herself, she leaned into his comfort, an uncommon softness enveloping them and exhaling over her skin like the press of silk. Her throat tightened, as if physically attempting to prevent the horrible words from escaping.

"When I was in the Undersea, I pretended I was glamoured. And so I had to do anything and everything they ordered me to so I wouldn't be discovered." A hard swallow that had her throat burning with hot coals. "Balekin made me kiss him. He ordered me to, then he ordered me to kiss him as if he was you. And I had to, I had no choice."

Cardan stilled.

The temperature in the room dropped, causing her gaze to flicker upward and startle at the sight of his coal black eyes now chips of unforgiving ice. If one turned their attention to the carefully groomed flowers scattered on their balcony, they would have witnessed every delicate petal shrivel until they were ruined and black.

"He forced you to kiss him," Cardan repeated back, a tangled mess of disbelief and anger mingling in his voice that was so cold it was frightening. A shiver skipped taunting fingertips down the whole of her spine. The expression that had so quickly hollowed out his features was one that she was deathly sure she had never seen before. One she was frightened of.

He stood up, dropping her hand and curling his to clawed fists. Neither the world or her dared to breathe as he paced once, slowly, before turning back to her. "You shouldn't have killed him, Jude."

Her fingernails sliced into her palms. "Cardan-"

He held an elegant hand up, cutting her off with a voice simmering with anger. "You should have let me do it."

The tension threatening to snap her body in two sagged away with heady relief. She took a breath, but he cut her off once again.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would have-" His breath shuddered with anger, jaw clenching to a deadly sharp angle, "I would have torn him limb from disgusting limb. How dare he touch you. How dare he use you as a pawn in one of his despicable games designed to torture me." The white of his teeth were blinding as he snarled in a manner that could only be described as feral.

"Cardan," Jude attempted to soothe, tentatively rising and approaching his side. He raked a hand through his hair, fisting the ends of the silken strands in barely restrained fury.

"I should have protected you," he breathed.

She shook her head, taking his hand in hers again. "I was kidnapped Cardan. You did everything you could. And as you said, I killed him. There's nothing more to be done about it but move on with us. You and me."

The grind of his teeth was audible as he closed his eyes, releasing a tight, prolonged breath. And then suddenly she found herself in his tight embrace, his lips colliding with hers in a kiss that made her as pathetically weak in the knees as a princess in a fairytale. His lips were as unimaginably soft as they always were, communicating every thought and emotion that they both equally struggled to express with their words.

When he broke away, thumb tracking over her cheekbone with gentle reverence, the guilt that had so heavily weighed on her shoulders for months finally slid away.

"I am sorry too, for what it’s worth now," she murmured. And she truly was. Not necessarily for the act of killing Balekin, he had that a long time coming, but for hurting Cardan, even if he had now come to understand why.

His anger faded as a mocking smirk formed on his elegant features. "My wife, apologizing? This might be the first and last time I ever hear those words from your sweet, seductive lips, my darling."

Now there was her perpetually irritating husband that she had so foolishly fallen in love with.

Even so, a hum of amusement accompanied her exaggerated eye roll. "Don't get used to it."

His laugh, a deep and raspy chuckle that felt like home, fell from his lips before they were upon hers again. "I wouldn't dare, Jude Greenbriar."

#tcp #the cruel prince #twk #the wicked king #qon #queen of nothing #jude duarte #jude greenbriar #cardan greenbriar #balekin greenbriar #balekin #tfota #the folk of the air #qon spoilers #queen of nothing spoilers #darklesmylove #darklesmylove writing

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mercyxkilling · 3 years

Text

send ‘mistletoe!’ for our muses to get caught under mistletoe!

@phantomdream said: MISTLETOE FOR EVERY SINGLE MUSE MERCY WANTS TO MACK ON -- which is one of the most dangerous things a person could ever say to me

god. why did this have to happen?

mercy massaged her temples, as if it were going to somehow magically alleviate the pain that was building up behind her eyes. whether it was from the cacophony of noise or stress she didn't know, she just knew she wanted out of here. her brother had been so generous in offering to fly some of the family into japan for christmas this year, and she'd managed to get herself caught up in all of it. she'd planned on leaving before anyone had managed to arrive, but she hadn't been fast enough. what was worse, adachi was with her, and got roped into all of it, too. why he hadn't faked a phone call to leave yet was a mystery, but he was being as polite as he could be considering everything happening. her mother and other family members were all asking him intrusive questions, and he was doing an astounding job of keeping his mask on through it all, because It was taking all that she had to keep herself from backhanding her mother's fucking lipstick off.

“mercy, why you bein' so quiet? you're always usually talkin' and we couldn't ever get you to shut the fuck up. now you ain't sayin' a fuckin' word. the fuck is wrong wit' you?”

her mother's voice wormed its way into her ears, and she looked up to find that she'd approached, a hand on her hip, looking ready to dig into her daughter now. maybe she'd finally decided adachi was too boring, posed no threat, or he'd successfully batted her away by playing dumb.

maybe if she'd grown up in different circumstances, she'd have been happy to have this family gathering, and to have been surrounded by familiar faces and delicious food. maybe if her mother had been a normal, doting maternal figure who didn't beat her with broom handles and leather belts, if she hadn't taken her to conversion therapy, or if mercy didn't suspect the woman of having a hand in her father's murder, she'd have been a lot more conversational. maybe she'd have been able to grow up a healthy, functional human being. maybe she wouldn't spend every waking moment trying to prove something, or would have been able to feel anything other than horrible every goddamn second of every goddamn day.

but as far as she was concerned, her mother and her side of the family were the root of all the problems in her life. she had no desire to speak with her, or even look at her.

“if there's anything wrong with me at all, it's prob'ly a direct reflection of your shitty parenting, marie.”

she watched with some small measure of satisfaction as the older woman's features seemed to show pain. it wasn't anywhere near what she wanted to unleash, but at least mercy had managed to get something punishing out.

“what--”

everything shifted into something much darker, though, as her mother's tone changed to one of absolute rage. but before she'd allow for such a verbal assault mercy heaved a sigh and got to her feet, feeling the gaze of her brother and her uncles upon her as she made her way over to the front door to slip into her heels, gaining considerable height by doing so.

“as cool as this all is. i'd rather spend this time with someone i actually want to be with. so. adachi. you ready to go?”

she pulled her coat from the rack and shrugged into it, then reached for his and offered it to him.

he'd been so charming all evening. so friendly and adorable, even when her mother was picking at him, and her uncles had been staring daggers at him after they'd learned he was a cop. He deserved better than this, and he didn't deserve to be put through any more of it. If that meant he left immediately after they both hit the door then she wouldn't blame him. if anything, she could relate. mercy wanted nothing more than to run away from her brother's house, move out of his guest house, and be alone. joshua was just as intense as their mother in his own right, and made her feel just as awful. if it wasn't the bodyguards preventing her from doing what she wanted to do then it was the constant berating about how she'd never be anything other than contemptible scum. how his kids had ended up being sweethearts was beyond her, but mercy suspected it had something to do with their mother, her sister-in-law. himiko was a saint. she and her nieces and nephews had gotten considerably large gifts this year for treating her like she was an actual human being.

her thoughts kept her from paying much attention to the rest of the room, and it seemed her mother wasn't going to take her abuse lying down. as adachi awkwardly shuffled across the room, marie was shoving past him to her daughter, arm pulled back and ready to strike.

“you can't treat me like that! i am your mother!”

because she'd been extending an arm out for adachi to take his coat, and because her thoughts were already elsewhere, mercy hadn't been prepared to adequately defend herself. she'd lifted her free hand to try and fend off the older woman, but she'd been too late. a resounding slap! rang in her ears when she felt marie's palm come in contact with her face. but it hadn't stopped there. she was pulling hair and repeatedly swatting, and it had taken her brother to pull their mother away.

“let me go! she can't talk to me like that, josh! she can't talk to me like that! let me fuckin' go!”

it hadn't mattered that all of mercy's nieces and nephews were there to see that. apparently proving a point and asserting her dominance over her daughter meant more than scarring her son's children. hopefully they wouldn't grow up the way mercy had. she cared very little about most people, but those kids were angels. they deserved better.

adachi by now had made his way to her and, in an unexpected moment of care, brushed her disheveled hair from her face.

“let's go,” was all he'd said as he slipped his shoes on and took his coat. He was pulling it on as he reached for the door and opened it.

mercy quickly walked outside into the night, and no one tried to stop either of them when they exited the house.

she might have hated the cold, but the snow and wind were far more inviting than the living room had been. she pulled the collar of her wool coat up to shield herself from the elements, then turned to face the detective, whose expression was strangely unreadable.

“i'm surprised you just took all of that. why didn't you do anything?”

was he... mad at her? or was he actually upset that her family treated her like garbage? she didn't want to ask, almost as if she were afraid of the answer.

“because what good would it have done me? besides. we've all gotta take a beating once in a while. just the way things work.”

“that's the stupidest shit i've ever heard you say, mercy.” he sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked up at her. “whatever. but... your family. they were really starting to piss me off. probably better that we had that happen before I had to stay any longer.”

“if we did, i'd probably have ended up slitting everyone's throats before midnight.”

“i wouldn't even mind the clean up if you did.”

“you say the sweetest things.” she could have sworn she heard him chuckle, but maybe she was just imagining it. “anyway. you should get outta here.”

“you talk like you aren't going to come with me. we're getting a drink after all that. i think we both need one.”

“i didn't want to--”

“shut up. you aren't staying here tonight. and you aren't coming back until that bitch goes back home, either.”

“i'm not?”

“no. you aren't. now move. i don't wanna be here.”

she didn't like him giving her orders, but mercy also appreciated the fact that he seemed to care enough to get her away from her family. she still couldn't get an absolute read on the guy, he was an enigma, but this didn't seem like an attempt at manipulation. and if it were, mercy wasn't sure she'd have cared enough to try and fight it. she was too emotionally drained to try.

“mmn, okay. but, hey. listen. before we do.”

he'd already started to push into motion, but paused and turned on his heel to face her again, inquisitive. his grey eyes followed to where she was pointing.

“mistletoe?”

“mmhmm. that means you have to kiss me. obviously.”

he stared at her for the span of two heartbeats, as if he weren't sure if she were being serious or not. but because mercy wasn't moving seemed to clue him into the fact that she refused to budge until he did what was expected.

he rolled his eyes.

“this is stupid. I figured you'd wanna get out of here before your mom comes out here with a broom handle.”

“cool of you to bring up my childhood beatings, but. I still want you to kiss me.”

“no.”

“tch, man, fuck you. get the fuck over here and put your fucking tongue In my mouth.”

maybe she'd gone a bit too far, and was still carrying a bit of anger from that little scenario just moments ago, but her tone was far more harsh than she'd intended. adachi probably hadn't liked it by the way he took a step closer and closed the distance between the two of them... and forced her back against the door by taking another. but then he moved his hand to her face, held her chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tilted her face up to force her to look him in the eye.

“not sure you deserve it after talking to me like that. But... it is christmas.”

and with that, his mouth was on hers, and his other hand had fisted around a handful of her hair as he parted her lips with his tongue and gave her what she'd asked for.

and god, was he delicious.

mercy clutched at his lapels to pull him further into her, no longer aware of the cold, or the loud and obnoxious voices barely audible behind the front door behind her. she felt his hand move from her hair and his arm move to dip around her waist possessively.

after a moment, he pulled away, released her, and stepped back.

“will that shut you up for now?”

“mmn, if i say no, would you do it again?”

he scoffed and turned to move down the steps of the porch, giving her her answer.

“can we go get that drink now, for fuck's sake?”

#meme #phantomdream #HA WOW THIS ENDED UP WAY LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BUT #i put the readmore where i did because #yo #abuse tw #conversion therapy tw #and there's the fact that it's a massively longer post than usual #but #ily so i wanted to write more?

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thanatosbananatos · 5 years

Text

What in the heckin' heck is Hanji's backstory? -- A Meta

At this rate, Yams is never going to tell us.

I guess it may not be all that important to the story, but then again, knowing his writing style, he really enjoys leaving mysteries, and it won't surprise me in the slightest if this series ends with a lot of the mysteries being unsolved. Hanji's backstory will likely be one of them.

As a disclaimer, I use she/her pronouns for Hanji, but Isayama specifically has stated that Hanji's gender is irrelevant, so please feel free to use whatever pronouns you'd like. If Hanji was real, I don't think she'd care, either...

Anyway, I want to start this meta laying out the facts we already know about Hanji BEFORE the year 845.

--Hanji had joined the Corps for ??? reason, and had a thirst to kill the Titans mercilessly, just like Eren at the start of the story. She was “fueled by insecurity and hate.” However, she kicked a Titan's head and was fascinated by how light it was, which began her obsession with the Titans from a scientific standpoint.

--Hanji does not bathe regularly and doesn't care about hygiene. Apparently Levi has to knock her out to get her to bathe.

--Hanji doesn't care about gender. Or at least, Isayama said it doesn't matter to the story. In a very early interview, he stated that Hanji was female but had moments of masculinity, which means she's gender-fluid or nonbinary.

--Hanji was in the Corps before Levi, Isabel, and Farlan joined.

--Hanji has known Erwin, Mike, and others for a little while--it's a quick little thing, but in episode one of season one, Hanji is shown to be in the same squad as Erwin when Shardis was the Commander.

--Hanji has anger issues. Isayama has stated that she is the scariest character when angered, and is also a different person with and without her glasses/goggles.

Aaaaand that's it.

Thanks, Yams.

Well, if the Wings of Counterattack game is to be believed, Hanji was also a super cute kid who was always kind of androgynous and messy-haired and had bad vision. Super cute. I love.

But that's really it. Hanji didn't even get a character song, despite Romi Park having the singing voice of a fallen angel that's going to drag me straight into hell where there are hot jazz musicians and Satan serves us all whiskey on the rocks. Did y'all know she released a jazz/pop album? It's fire and you can't stop me from thinking about Hanji being able to sing like that.

...I'm getting off track.

ANYWAY.

Compared to many other recurring characters in the series, Hanji has a very limited amount of backstory. She's never even drawn as younger, even in the panel we get of her kicking the Titan's head--if you recall, it's just a dark scribble with a scary-looking grin.

That being said, Isayama has indeed been dropping bread crumbs here and there with clues throughout the series that can lead us to a conclusion about Hanji's past.

Where was Hanji born and raised?

I think it's fair to say that Hanji was not raised with wealth.

It's hard to draw conclusions about her exact family, but considering her being totally chill with not bathing for weeks and being a little bit of a...gremlin, she probably grew up somewhere in Maria, or in the slums of someplace in Rose. However, I tend to lean more toward Maria.

For me, it's not really an issue of just her hygiene--it's also her social skills. Again, we know ZILCH about her parents/guardians, so they could have been weirdos, but I think also that Hanji just didn't have the proper upbringing to gain boundaries like normal people. She gets up in people's faces, she can be very physical/grabby, and she can be argumentative and stubborn to a fault. I think it's fair to sometimes call her actions childish, though some of them also are symptoms of something like ADHD.

I want to argue, however, that she is just eccentric. I think it's part of who she is and was raised to be--or perhaps it's from a lack of attention.

She also just doesn't care about a lot of things that people raised in high-status upbringings would care about. She literally throws on her uniform jacket over her pajamas when called out to see Pastor Nick's death scene. Showering/bathing every day is not a priority,but it's also not something that bothers her. For instance, I'm incredibly busy, but I shower every day because anxiety dictates it to be so, but I also just enjoy being clean. Hanji is super busy and could make time to shower/bathe more than she doesn't, but she doesn't see it as a priority and never once is it mentioned that she pays any mind to it.

Regarding her gender, I wonder if she was an only child. It's possible that there were expectations put on her to be more of a “lady,” but she was much more concerned with studying and learning.

That's just speculation, of course. Some people just are the way that they are.

However, I think she was an only child for a couple of other reasons, too.

First, I think that economically, if she did grow up in Maria, one child was all that her parents could afford. There are also just not a lot of people in the walled world with siblings; it's just not very convenient to add to an already-starving population, I suppose.

But also, I think her love for studying might be connected to this. I know that, as a kid growing up with older brothers MUCH older than me and not a lot of friends, I loved to read to the point that I owned my own encyclopedias and actually read them. A lot of kids who grow up lonely/isolated tend to do the same.

Especially if she was already such an extroverted kid, I think she'd need the stimulation.

Why did Hanji hate the Titans?

It's possible to think about this from a couple of different angles, but there's one that I prefer over the other.

First, we could consider that Hanji perhaps lost someone she cared about to the Titans. Maybe her parents joined the military and were killed. Maybe her sibling, or aunt or uncle, or grandparents.

Second, we could consider that she valued freedom and independence, and that she considered the Titans to be something that stood in the way of that.

Personally, I think the second one is more likely. Of course, it's possible that both happened! We really don't know.

However, I lean toward the second option because of Hanji's personality, and the little we know about her when she joined the Corps. She was a bit unhinged (as all interesting characters are), and she was very violent. This tends to be a characteristic of people who are forced to keep everything in for a long amount of time.

In psychology, there are two categories of people: externalizers and internalizers. For instance, if a child endures trauma, and their reaction is to lash out violently (physically or verbally), or to become selfish and attention-seeking, that is considered externalizing. On the other hand, if the child endures the trauma and then keeps it locked up, considers the abuser to be the “real” victim, learns self-blame, etc., then that is internalizing.

For instance, Erwin is probably an internalizer, when we take into account his father's death and the trauma he endured because of it. Armin is also an internalizer.

Hanji, however, is probably an externalizer. She shows a lot of the signs of someone who has perhaps undergone something traumatic/repeated traumatic events and has lashed out as a sign of “dealing with it.” It's a sign of emotional immaturity, so it makes sense that that's what Hanji was doing as a young'n. She's also quite empathetic, which could add fuel to any flames, and she's also proven to be a skilled manipulator.

What was the trauma? I think it was the feeling of isolation.

One thing that really is evident to me is how goddamned EXTROVERTED Hanji is. If we have the scale E to I, Hanji is probably one of the farthest if not THE farthest over on the E side of ALL of the characters in this story. She likes to talk, she verbalizes everything, she enjoys people, and she clearly gains energy from social situations.

I have a feeling that Hanji has always been a bright kid, and that perhaps she was understimulated as a result of growing up not only in a poor community, but being surrounded by this big-ass walls and constantly being told, “No, you can't go outside. You'll be eaten alive by Titans.”

She would very naturally turn into this teenager/young adult with a thirst for absolutely destroying the things that kept her locked up in the first place.

Again, I think either situation is likely, but I have the feeling that it goes deeper than just getting revenge for someone's death. Something tells me that Hanji has been looking for answers to deep questions for a long time.

So, Hanji joins the military. Then what?

Well, from the hints that Yams has dropped, Hanji met Erwin, Mike, Nile, and perhaps others at some point. I don't think that Hanji was in the same class as them, save for maybe Moblit, but I think she probably knew them. This part is a bit hazy, considering that we don't know what age Erwin and company were when they joined the military. Mike is canonically older than them all, pushing 40 years old (like a fine wine) at around 850. Erwin is supposedly in his late 30's, and I believe even Levi is older than Hanji, which would put her around 30 at in the year 850.

Now, if we think about when Levi entered the Survey Corps, which I believe was in the year 846...

Hanji was not a new recruit that year, and she already seemed to have a pretty close friendship with Moblit. She was also more emotionally mature.

In other words, Hanji had probably already kicked the head of that Titan by the time Maria fell.

That means, it had to have been before Shiganshina/Maria fell that she had a change of heart.

During all of this, Mike and Erwin were also in the Corps, and they probably witnessed this change.

However, despite it being explicitly mentioned in the manga, this is the hardest part to flesh out about Hanji's backstory.

We at least know the details of her becoming a Squad Leader specifically focused on the science of Titans, thanks to the OVA for Ilse's Journal. It was thanks to her curiosity, emotional maturity, and a bit of dumb luck that it happened.

But before this, we don't know much else about her time in the military, and it's hard to discern anything without knowing details about the others, too.

I know that there are snippets of details in smartpasses (is that what they're called?) that reveal that she, Mike, and Erwin were friends, etc., but that really doesn't give us much to go on. Much of it, unfortunately, remains a mystery.

However, there is one last thing I want to point out:

In the first episode of season two, after Hanji lets Nick down instead of yeeting him off of the wall, she mentions “I haven't felt this way since I first went outside of the walls. Talk about scary.”

There are many people who interpret this line as her fear of the Titans, but I think it's fear of her own anger. She was ready to brutally kill someone who could have otherwise provided valuable information, just because of her pure rage.

I think this moment, along with a couple of others (kicking down the table and saying “it was a roach,” for instance), drive home some of the assumptions from earlier in this meta. Consider the torture scene and her actions compared to Levi's. Levi grew up in an environment where violence was used as a form of communication. You don't see him saying a lot as he punches Sannes over and over. He doesn't stick around to talk to the men once they're returned to their jail cells.

Hanji is, however, a bit too eager to rip the nails and teeth out of this guy (partially as revenge for Pastor Nick's death, I'm certain). She rips into them verbally as well, as they sit defeated in their jail cell. Her anger is a terrifying force.

So what's the point?

Well, there's not really one.

I just would like to know more about one of my favorite fictional characters of all time.

Is it important to the story? Well, not necessarily.

But what if this backstory is more than I wrote here? What if it's something quite wild or disturbing? What if it digs further into the fundamentals of humanity? Was she abused? Was she bullied? Is she just psychologically disturbed?

Like I said, we may never know, and at this point (2019/09), the series seems to be coming to an end.

I personally think it's really too bad. The story is a character-driven one, so to leave so much mystery around Hanji's past is very curious. Hanji tends to get shoved to the side a lot (though not as much as some other MCs), so it’s pretty frustrating to see that even the creator isn’t divulging more information...

Then again, I guess it does make writing fics easier, right...?

#hanji zoe #hange zoe #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #meta #snk meta #aot meta #attack on titan meta #shingeki no kyojin meta #my meta #please treat her right for once #i'm so tired of how hanji gets treated lol #hanji defense squad

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