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wordsnwhiskey · 3 years

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As It Should Be | Chapter 2: All Hell Breaks Loose

Summary: Alright y’all the smut is here. After making your escape from the gala, you, Whiskey and Frankie are left with a new dilemma: you’ve all been exposed to whatever amorous agent was released at the gala, and Frankie’s ability to focus on flying is running thin. Fantasies are fulfilled, but new concerns arise.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sex Pollen, dub con (a given with sex pollen but it’s all good), bondage, MMF, P in V, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), oral (M & F receiving), mild injury due to improper usage of a lasso, mentions of prior drug use, a smattering of spanking (I think a grand total of 2). If I’m missing anything, let me know.

A/N: Here we are at some smut, courtesy of a sex pollen-esque device. I HC that Frankie is a total switch in this verse. There’s a touch of angst towards the end. Also, it’s worth noting that in this verse, while Frankie was engaged, he does not have a kid. Special shout out and thanks to my friend E, now going by Agent Capri Sun and my amazing esposa, @danniburgh for the beta and encouragement! ~5.9k WC

Chapter 1: Reunions & Things Past [AO3]

Whiskey is beyond impressed with Frankie and the fact that they’re still in the air. His gaze flickered down to Frankie’s lap where Whiskey could clearly see his cock straining against the slacks he wore. Your moan pulls Whiskey’s attention away from Frankie. Looking over, he sees you trying to paw your dress off. Hanging his head for a moment, Frankie opens his eyes and exhales.

“Get her off the headset, I can’t-- fuck!”

You moan again and Frankie’s hips buck involuntarily.

“¡Mierda! Get her off the fucking headset. C-can’t concentrate, just wanna…”

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the thought of sinking into you. This prompted Whiskey to move quickly, needing to get you out of Frankie’s ears if they wanted to land safely. You felt Jack’s large, warm hands grip your arms, and you whimpered at the way they seemed to burn through you. He gently pulled the headset from your head and set it down to the side.

“Jack… Please, it’s so hot. Need you to-“

Whiskey shudders at your words and the feel of your skin under his touch.

“No sweetheart, we gotta wait. Hang in there, darlin’.”

By the time they finally touch down, Frankie’s breath is beyond ragged, he looks over his shoulder at you grinding into your hand and playing with your tits, a low growl bubbling up from his chest.

“Go! Take her inside. I gotta cover up the helo!”

Whiskey nodded, picking you up and carrying you into the safehouse while you clutched at him, kissing and nibbling at his neck. You whimper when he turns to leave. Your body is on fire, the overwhelming desire --no, overwhelming need-- to have Jack everywhere, most importantly, inside you, is raging and wreaking havoc.

“Shhh, sweetheart, I know it hurts. I’ll be right back. Gotta go check on your pilot first, baby.”

Images of both Frankie and Jack come to mind. Feeling their mouths hot yet soothing on your skin, sliding through your folds, and their cocks driving inside of you, pushing you to new heights of pleasure. You moaned out Frankie’s name and Jack chuckled. He had an inkling as to what came to your mind, having coaxed you into spilling your fantasies while he was buried deep inside of you.

Outside, Frankie was stumbling, trying to get a camouflaged tarp over the helicopter to hopefully prevent any drones from noticing the aircraft. Whiskey hurried over to Frankie, taking one side of the tarp and running it to the front, cinching it down near the nose of the helicopter. He heard Frankie let out a loud groan, watching as the man sank to his knees, the final remnants of his resolve crumbling at Whiskey’s feet. The Statesmen agent was once again reminded just how tightly Frankie had been clinging to his sanity, pushing his pain and bodily needs aside until his job was done. Whiskey’s own thoughts were pushed aside, however, when Frankie started to frantically paw at his belt and slacks. He whined while he palmed himself, completely uncaring, on his knees, outside, seeking some sort of relief, only a few feet away from Whiskey.

“Hey, Flyboy!”

Jack shouted, trying to break Frankie’s concentration for a moment, only to be met with dark, hazy, lust-blown eyes and another whine.

“Well shit, if that ain’t one of the hottest things I ever did--“

Whiskey cut himself off, grunting as he readjusted himself and hauled Frankie up by one arm.

“C’mon, gotta get you inside, Flyboy.”

“Y’gotta tie -mmmmfuck- me up… Don-don’t wanna ta-take ad-whine- advan--“

Whiskey swore. Frankie’s small whimpers were making him want to shove the pilot to the ground and take him right there. His hold on Frankie’s arm tightened to a bruising grip, and he nodded in agreement. Despite the fact that you had voiced your fantasies, Jack didn’t want you to do anything that you hadn’t explicitly stated you wanted.

The sight that greeted them stopped them cold. Your dress had been tossed to the floor, and your fingers were plunging inside your cunt, desperately seeking your release. Frankie’s body stiffened, standing up straight. He took a step towards you before Whiskey tugged him back, putting him in an open chair. Very aware of the more than dull ache of his erection and your delicious moans, Jack worked quickly, hastily tying Frankie’s wrists to the legs of the chair with his lasso before turning back to you. The hungry look in his eyes prompted you to moan for Whiskey, a predatory smile split his face and Frankie whimpered in response to your moan.

“Lo siento, hermosa. El te va ayudar.” [I’m sorry, beautiful. He’s going to help you.]

Frankie’s words came out strangled, hips bucking and hands struggling at Whiskey’s lasso keeping him bound.

“I’m here, baby, Jack’s here, shhhh.”

A cry leaves your lips when you finally feel Jack’s mouth latch onto one of your nipples, his moustache tickling the turgid skin damp from his tongue, and rough, calloused fingers tweaked your other nipple. Teeth grazed your clavicle, breasts, tummy, hips and thighs, each nip soothed by his sinful tongue.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby girl. You want my tongue in that sweet cunt?”

Frankie’s cry of frustration eclipses your own cry of pleasure. Whiskey’s tongue finally delves between your folds, lapping at your slick. Tied down to the chair, Frankie can do little more than buck helplessly and watch as you tug Whiskey’s hair, your nonsensical pleading only increasing, breaking into keening moans when his thick fingers finally dip inside your soaked cunt. Whiskey’s moans echo your own, loving the small pin pricks of pain as you tugged his hair, egging him on and begging for more.

Your sharp gasp cuts through the wet noises Whiskey encourages from you as teeth graze your clit. Crying out for him, your fingers twist and grip him tighter, holding him to you, his fingers pumping in and out in a way that has your chest heaving, desperate for air. Your voice catches in your throat when he curls his fingers inside of you, his lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves. You swear for a moment you’re blinded when you finally reach the high your body had been aching for since escaping the gala. Jack’s fingers and tongue are the only things keeping you grounded to this plane, gently stroking you through the pleasure cascading through your body, his tongue greedy for your taste. Your orgasm is searing in its intensity, yet for a brief glorious moment, there is relief from the burning stoked deep inside of you by the amorous agent.

Jack’s hum of approval sends a shudder up your spine. You whimper when he slides two fingers back inside, a smirk playing at his lips after he savors your taste. Standing, he gathers more of your cum on his fingers and steps over to Frankie. Frankie’s mouth opens without question, a pained moan sounding around Whiskey’s fingers, tongue twisting and sucking fervently. Curiously, Whiskey pushes his fingers further into Frankie’s mouth, breath catching when the pilot’s eyes roll back a little. Another low moan rumbles from Whiskey’s chest in response.

“Well, shit, Flyboy.”

Frankie looks exquisitely debauched, belt hanging undone, slacks unbuttoned and askew giving you a view of his straining boxer briefs stained darker by a growing wet patch. The way his arms were tied behind his back pulled his shirt tight across his broad chest, exposing a bit of his stomach and a sparse trail of hair that dipped below the waistband of his underwear. His jaw worked greedily around Jack’s fingers. Yes, he looked exquisitely debauched. You could feel the burning need start to build again at the sight. While yes, you had certainly fantasized being with both Jack and Frankie, you also wanted to see them enjoy each other. Breaking from your fantasies, you slide off of the bed and move over to Whiskey. A smirk teases at your lips while you snake your arms around his waist, undoing his slacks and shoving them and his boxers down. Frankie groaned again, watching intently as you stroked Whiskey’s hard, thick length, a hunger in both yours and Frankie’s eyes at the sight of it. Jack pulled his fingers from Frankie’s mouth, smirking at the whine left behind in their wake, then turned his attention to you and your ministrations.

“Remember what we talked about the other night, Jack?” You purred.

A low, hearty chuckle erupted from him. He nodded permission but gripped your wrist and nuzzled your shoulder before you could move.

“I’m gonna fuck your tight little cunt while you do though, Sugar.”

A shudder ran down your spine at his low, gravelly voice. You moaned at the thought before nodding and turning to Frankie, his chest heaving as he watched the two of you.

“Can I have you, Frankie?”

“Fuuuck me, yes hermosa [beautiful], por favor.”

Frankie’s hips sought your touch, your fingers burning him as they connected with his skin. You tugged on his slacks and boxer briefs. Without needing to be asked, Frankie planted his feet to give himself the leverage to lift his hips and provide just enough room for you to drag his bottoms down to his ankles. He hastily kicked them and his shoes off.

Frankie moaned. His cock finally sprung free, the dull thud of it smacking against his belly making you lick your lips. He’d always been modest, usually not one to rise to the dick measuring contests Benny and Pope would instigate, but you’d known there was something more than just his charm that made the ladies at the base giggle about him, and boy, was there. His thick cock twitched and leaked under your gaze.

“Wow, Frankie…”

Frankie’s gaze was dark and needy. He would have preened more at your words had he not been so desperate to feel you. A sharp slap to your rear pulled you from your ogling. With a yelp, you turn to Whiskey, wondering why he could be jealous all of a sudden, only to find glowing mischief and lust in his dark eyes.

“Well, don’t keep the poor man waiting, sweetheart. Have some mercy and show him how good your pretty little mouth feels.”

You push back into Whiskey’s hips, grinding into him as you bend over, bracing yourself on Frankie’s thighs, moaning when he lets out a sob of relief as the heat of your mouth envelops the head of his cock.

“Ohhhh shit, shit, Halcón-“

Frankie keens your callsign, drawn out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Looking up as you bob up and down, you can see him straining against Jack’s lasso, his upper body bending forward as much as he can, desperate to touch you, to be closer to you. You run a hand over his bare thigh, marveling at the way the muscles tremble beneath your touch while your tongue swirls around him. Another sharp slap on your ass makes you pause and look over your shoulder.

“Christ, Sugar, I said have some mercy on him, not tease him to death.”

Whiskey’s hands were at your hips, kneading gently as you took more of Frankie in your mouth, establishing a rhythm that had him bucking up into you. Jack took the opportunity to push into you, thick cock splitting you open and pushing you forward, making Frankie’s cock inch deeper down your throat.

“Damn, baby girl, look at you taking us so well. Does he feel as good down your throat as you thought he would?”

“Fuck!”

Frankie cries out when you moan around him, watching wild-eyed as Whiskey leans forward, pinning you down on Frankie’s cock. Whiskey cups your throat, squeezing slightly to feel the bound and desperate man’s cock moving in and out.

“Oh, fu- I’m- ¡mierda! Baby, I’m gonna-“

Frankie’s body tenses, muscles coiling in anticipation, his arms and wrists tugging, thrashing at his restraints. His hips giving one final thrust as he pitches forward. Whiskey moans, feeling Frankie pulsing down your throat, waiting until you’ve swallowed everything Frankie has to offer before he pulls back to let you gasp for air.

“Fuck, hermosa, that was… amazing.”

Frankie wanted so badly to touch you, the thick emotion in his voice vibrating throughout your body. Not able to restrain himself any longer, Whiskey adjusts his grip on your hips and begins thrusting into you in earnest.

“We ain’t done yet, Sugar.”

Each word is punctuated by a thrust as Jack builds a steady but brutal pace. Your arms were tired from bracing yourself, but Whiskey seemed to understand and held you to him with an arm around your waist. His other hand, however, buried itself in your hair and tugged sharply, forcing your gaze to meet Frankie’s. You clench at the sight, his normally soft brown eyes glittered just as darkly as Jack’s. Frankie ducked his head to kiss you, moaning into your mouth while he claimed you with a hunger born of years of wanting to feel your lips against his.

“You want your pilot in your cunt next, baby girl? Gonna cum in you, sweetheart, then you can ride him. Let him feel how wet and tight this gorgeous goddamn cunt is.”

Frankie let out a low grunt, as if the air had been punched from his chest. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d actually be able to feel you around him. The pained grunt from Frankie and the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around him were all it took to send Whiskey over the edge. Whiskey gritted his teeth as you clenched around him, cumming hard around his cock.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it!“

His hand disentangled from your hair to find purchase on your shoulder, giving him the leverage he craved while he fucked you through his orgasm.

You would have collapsed onto Frankie if it weren’t for Whiskey’s arm keeping you upright. His deep, hard thrusts gave way to shallow, gentle ones as he came down from his high. Gently, Whiskey rubbed your hip with his thumb then pulled you against his chest, nuzzling and kissing your shoulder.

“You ok, Sugar? Hmmm? You got more in you?”

You hum and nod, steadying yourself against Jack. He slipped out of you with a groan, hands still at your waist. Having not been as exposed as you or Frankie, the unbearable fire from the amorous agent had died down and Whiskey’s head was much clearer. The same could not be said, however, for Frankie, his lust-hazed gaze sending a shiver down your spine.

Stepping forward from Whiskey, you straddled Frankie’s thighs, fingers quickly working to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt, giving you access to his toned, golden chest. The muscles in his stomach trembled under your inquisitive fingers as you pushed the fabric away from him until it hung, bunched up at his biceps. Drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you look up at him and adjust so you can slide down his girthy length. Nothing could have prepared him for the sheer ecstasy he felt as you took him in.

“Mierda, amo- fuck you’re so- mmmm, so wet, feel so good, baby.”

Whiskey walked around behind Frankie while you began to bounce up and down on his cock. The pilot was straining against the lasso in earnest, now that he was finally inside you, he had to touch you. He moaned in surprise, feeling the tension of his restraints disappear as Whiskey released him. A wave of guilt crested over Whiskey when he saw how raw Frankie’s wrists were. The pilot seemed not to notice, though, as he quickly tore his shirt the rest of the way off. Whiskey’s attention was brought from his wrists back to you by the feral growl Frankie let out at finally being able to grip your hips and truly leverage his thrusts into you.

“Frankie!”

His name rips the breath from your lungs and you see stars with each Earth-shattering thrust, clinging to him while he fucks you like his life depends on it.

“Yeah? Estoy- Mmm, I’m right here. ¿Que quieres? Dime.” [What do you want? Tell me.]

You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, breath hitching and cunt clenching at his rough cadence. You had never heard his voice or seen him like this before, uninhibited and wholly surrendered to the give and take of pleasure. A gasp fell from your lips when Frankie’s mouth latched onto one of your breasts.

“Our girl’s wanted this, to have the both of us, for a long time, Frankie.”

Frankie moaned, then shuddered at the way Whiskey’s mustache ticked the sensitive skin underneath his ear. His words ‘our girl’ echoing in his mind.

“Tell me how good our girl feels, Flyboy.”

Whiskey smirked as Frankie moaned, teeth grazing the pilot’s neck while you watched and clung to Frankie’s shoulders, arousal pooling at how responsive he was to Jack’s teasing.

“S-so fuck- so good, Whiskey. A goddamn dream, always wanted to- always wanted to do this.”

Frankie brought a hand from your hip to the juncture between you two, his thick, calloused thumb finding your nearly oversensitive clit and rubbing quick circles in time with his thrusts. An almost overwhelming wave of pleasure starts to build even higher in your abdomen. You were lost to the pleasure surrounding and filling you, lost to the feeling of Frankie’s thick cock thrusting into you, his fingers working in time with his pace and Jack’s husky encouragement in Frankie’s ear.

He’s so close, and knows you are too from your gasp as he holds you down and grinds into you roughly. Then, all at once, your second orgasm bubbles over and crashes down on you with a cry and Frankie’s name on your lips. He does his best to work you through it, but he can barely hold on with the way your walls are fluttering around him, squeezing and coaxing him higher and higher.

“Mmmmm- Así mero, amor [that’s it, love]. Fuck you feel- you feel so good. Mierda, ¿donde? [Shit, where?] Where can I?”

“Inside Frankie, cum inside me, please!”

A growl erupted from Frankie, his large hands holding your hips in a bruising grip and his head thrown back in pleasure. He was the vision of oncoming ecstasy.

“C’mon, fill her up, Flyboy.”

Before Frankie could retort, he felt the other man’s teeth sink into the crook of his neck. A coarse grunt of pain and pleasure rumbled deep within Frankie’s chest, jaw open yet tense as he pumped rope after rope of his cum deep inside you. A small whimper broke Frankie’s silence as Whiskey’s tongue soothed the angry bite mark on his skin. While he enjoyed Jack’s soothing ministrations, Frankie lavished his attention on you.

“You were so good, cariño.”

His lips ghosted over your breasts.

“Que linda.”

A kiss on your clavicle.

“Hermosa.”

His strong hands traveled up your spine and Whiskey watched, entranced by the reverence of Frankie’s actions.

“Querida.”

His hot tongue left a languid, rapidly-cooling trail from your sternum to the base of your throat. Your soft moan filled the air between you and Frankie, gentle fingers intertwining in his hair and tugging. A smirk plays across your lips at his moan. Frankie pauses, regarding you for a moment with a raised eyebrow and smirk of his own.

“¿Quieres más amor? Hmm, ¿estás segura? Whiskey?”

Frankie turns to face Jack, wanting reassurance that this was still ok. Smiling, Whiskey pulls Frankie in for a kiss, one of his hands gripping Frankie’s soft curls while you brace yourself against Frankie’s chest and roll your hips gently. Your and Whiskey’s eyes meet, and you nod, smiling.

“Now, how could we say no to that, Flyboy?”

Yours and Frankie’s moans echoed together, and Frankie began to grind into you again. A dull ache emanates from your thighs. You’re not sure if Frankie sensed it or if you had let out a whimper, but you feel one of Frankie’s hands press in between your shoulder blades, pulling your body into him to relieve some of the pressure. He adjusted the hand on your back slightly to curl over your shoulder for leverage and began thrusting into you with a new intensity and ferocity. You squeak in surprise and bury your face in the crook of his neck, opposite of where Jack had left his mark, each thrust pushing a soft cry from your lips. Whiskey held Frankie’s hair firmly in his grasp, tugging and eliciting gorgeous little moans of pleasure and pain from his mouth.

You were beyond oversensitive, each thrust grinding your clit against Frankie’s coarse curls, leaving you shuddering and so very close. Whiskey could tell both of you were almost there, needing just an extra nudge and knowing just what you needed to get there. You weren’t even aware of Jack moving, all that existed in the world to you was the sweet drag of Frankie’s cock inside you, his strong grip, the rough catch of his beard against your cheek, and the way your breath tickled the nape of his neck. Both of your slick bodies tensed, breath quickening. Whiskey’s hand on your shoulder brought your attention to him.

“Look at you, so damn gorgeous. You wanna cum, don’t you baby?”

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing gently.

“Don’t you?”

Whiskey hummed, watching intently as your eyes fluttered close, and you gave a desperate little nod.

“That’s it, be our good girl and soak his cock one more time.”

His sinful voice carried those words straight to your core, and you clenched down on Frankie, the coil inside you snapping as you gushed all over Frankie’s cock with a muffled cry.

“F-fuck y-yeah, baby, such a good girl. You feel so good, so tight. Look at you, fucking soaking me.”

A few more thrusts and Frankie follows you, pumping another load inside you with a grunt and broken off curse. Whiskey removes his hand from your throat and gently strokes your hair, while Frankie alternates between planting soft kisses on your shoulder and nuzzling your neck. Both murmur praises in your ear. Once his breath evens out, Frankie nuzzles you again. The fire that had held both you and Frankie captive had finally died down leaving exhaustion in its wake.

“Halcón, put your arms around me.”

You’re just on the cusp of consciousness, your body well worn out from the day’s activities, but you manage to follow instructions and cling to Frankie as he stands up, strong arms holding you to him. He smiles down at you, kissing your forehead as he places you down in the middle of the bed. Whiskey appears silently with a warm washcloth, gently wiping your tender folds clean despite your soft, protesting moans.

“Shhhh, we’ve got you, amor. We’re going to take care of you.” Frankie murmurs.

You’re asleep almost as soon as Whiskey is done, Frankie taking your soft snores as his cue to get dressed again. He slid his boxer briefs and slacks on, hissing slightly as the fabric brushed against his wrists.

“Hey Flyboy, now, don’t think I forgot about you. C’mere.”

A similarly half-clothed Whiskey patted the spot on the bed next to him, a med kit in his other hand.

“What do you mean?”

“Come here and let me see your wrists, Flyboy.”

Frankie glanced down at his wrists and tucked them behind him. He suddenly felt a warmth threatening his cheeks at what Whiskey was offering: an entirely different kind of intimacy that he hadn’t been anticipating.

“Oh, y-you don’t need to, Whiskey, I-I’ve had worse, much worse. I mean I was in Delta Force, I got shot, y’know.”

Whiskey’s gaze burned into Frankie and raised an eyebrow at him.

“It wasn’t a question, Catfish. This wasn’t war, and I know better than to not dress a rope properly to keep from shredding your wrists. Besides, what kind of gentleman would I be to not offer any sort of aftercare?”

There was an edge to Whiskey’s voice that left no room for argument, and Frankie relented despite the latter half of the statement sending a blush to his cheeks. He gingerly took a seat next to him and offered his left hand to Whiskey, who took it in his own, gently applying ointment to the pinched and raw skin. Frankie winced, then shuddered, unable to hide the hitch in his breath. Whiskey smirked.

“Yeah? I thought so, Flyboy.”

Frankie bit his lip and ducked his head, as if he and Whiskey hadn’t just shared you, as if not long ago he hadn’t fallen to his knees in front of the other man, so overwhelmed with the need to relieve himself he had whined while palming his cock. He cleared his throat, fidgeting, then started to get up to grab his phone that lay discarded on the floor.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

Whiskey’s hand was lightning fast, catching Frankie’s arm and keeping him from going any farther.

“We’re not done yet. Give me your other hand, Catfish.”

Frankie let out a sigh, reluctantly sitting back down and offering his right hand. The Statesmen agent sucked in a sharp breath. Frankie’s right wrist was considerably worse. A pang of guilt speared Whiskey in his gut.

“I’m gonna have to clean this out and bandage it up.”

Frankie nodded, a tense groan that tapered into a whine forcing its way from his mouth as Whiskey flushed the torn skin.

“Easy, Catfish, I thought you said you’ve had worse?”

Whiskey chuckled lightly, and Frankie just grunted a response while his wrist was wrapped. Once he was done, Frankie smiled and ducked his head, his left hand going to the back of his neck in a self-reassuring gesture. When his eyes were drawn to Frankie’s shoulders, he saw his bite mark remained, and Whiskey fought the primal urge to mark him again.

“Thank you… I-I need to check in with Pope. Let him know we’re good.”

He snatched his phone up from the ground, sighing and rocking back on his heels. He had several missed texts.

Pope: Gas?

Pope: Avoided and clear

Pope: Status report?

Pope: Fish?

Frankie: Took the helo. Safe now with Halcón & co.

Pope: Jesus Cat, took you long enough.

Frankie: Got hit by the gas...all clear now. I’ll call tomorrow.

Pope: Copy

Frankie shoved his phone back in his pocket and let out a sigh. Noticing Whiskey’s yawn, he gestured for him to lay down.

“I told Pope I’d call him tomorrow. I’ll take first watch, you get some sleep. I’ll wake you up in 6 hours.”

“Hey now, just hold on a minute--“

“Don’t worry about it, Whiskey, I’ve got too much adrenaline going through me still.”

Whiskey frowned then nodded, turning off the lights and crawling into bed next to you. It wasn’t long before Frankie could hear even breathing and soft snores from both you and Jack. He let out a long sigh, scrubbing his face with his left hand.

Some fucking day it had been.

The moonlight greeted him as he stared out the window. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he’d run into you at the gala... or at all, really. It had been four years since he had last seen you, and he had been an absolute mess. Not that anyone would have expected Tom’s funeral to be a joyous affair, but he had just been getting off of (and beginning another) bender. He could barely find it in him to not be absolutely high out of his mind as they lowered Tom’s casket into the ground. He had provided cover fire for Tom back in Colombia and fired into the crowd of villagers too. It could have just as easily been him finding a permanent resting place six feet under.

As you took in his appearance after the funeral, the tears in your eyes speared him to his core. Your sad, knowing smile had shattered him when you squeezed his arm and said goodbye. It was worse than getting home from Colombia to find his fiancée gone. Worse than finding Tom dead and bleeding on the rocks in the Andes.

Some insane part of him almost told you how he felt about you when you were in town for the funeral. He thanked whatever shred of common sense he had that he didn’t tell you. He was an addict, and you were a year into your new job. You didn’t need, didn’t deserve to even have him consider putting you through his shit.

A lot had changed since then, namely, he’d gotten clean and had his pilot’s license reinstated. He hated flying tourists. It bored the hell out of him, but with his record, most people weren’t willing to give him a second look. At least picking up jobs for Pope gave him a taste of the real flying that he missed. Frankie let out another sigh, then swore. He had only taken the one day off, and who knew when he’d actually be able to go home after this fiasco. There was definitely more going on than anyone had anticipated. Groaning, he pulled out his personal phone to text his boss.

Frankie: Hey Kevin, I need a few more days. I ended up coming down with something.

He let out an exhale as he pressed send. It wasn’t too far from the truth, at least. To his surprise, his phone buzzed barely a moment later.

Kevin: Are you fucking serious Morales? First you barely give notice and now the night before you’re calling out?

Frankie: I know, I’m sorry I just want to make sure I’m not contagious.

Kevin: This is your last shot Morales, you piss hot or if I can’t find someone to cover for you then you’re done.

Frankie hung his head, pinching the bridge of his nose before he responded.

Frankie: Copy

He looked over at where you were on the bed, just barely making out the outline of you cuddled up against Whiskey in the moonlight. A pang of regret tore through him. He should have gotten his shit together sooner. At least you seemed happy now. He knew that what had happened tonight was a one-time thing, at most, your fantasy fulfilled. A fantasy of his had very much been fulfilled as well. Closing his eyes, he could still taste you, feel the ghost of your touch, and hear the echo of the sounds you had made. Groaning, Frankie checked his watch. Another four hours to go. Four hours for him to torture himself with what-ifs and what could have been, four hours of thinking about the way his chest tightened every time you breathed his name.

Fuck.

Jack woke with a start, a foreign hand on his shoulder. His hand automatically reached for and whipped out the revolver under his pillow. The muzzle connected with soft flesh, and the other person grunted in surprise.

“Whoa, tranquilo [calm/easy]… It’s me, Frankie.”

Jack let out a breath and sat up, lowering his gun and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Apologies, Flyboy.”

Frankie grunted again and yawned.

“ ‘S 04:00, she’s been through the ringer… Didn’t want t’wake her up.”

Whiskey nodded and looked Frankie over in the early morning light, noting how exhaustion slurred his words. He looked like shit. Standing, Whiskey tugged on his white undershirt from the night before.

“I jus’ need…”

Frankie flopped down in the spot Whiskey had been occupying seconds earlier.

“Cinco…horas…”

The man was asleep practically the second his head hit the pillow, maybe even before. Whiskey smiled at the way Frankie instinctively wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. Whiskey carded his fingers through his hair then moved to the window, dialing Ginger as he went.

“Whiskey?! Are you and Bourbon… ok? We lost track of you both, but we determined an amorous agent was used at the gala. Has it worn off?”

“Yeah, Flyboy got us out and he took first watch afterwards… Anyways, we’re at a Statesmen safehouse. Bourbon is still sleeping. We got here by helicopter, can you clear us to land at the New York office later today?”

There was a pause and Jack could hear Ginger typing.

“Wait, who’s ‘Flyboy’?”

Whiskey glanced over at the bed, not wanting to disturb you or Frankie.

“Frankie Morales. He was part of the private security detail at the gala last night. He served with Bourbon and is a pilot, probably the most self-disciplined pilot I’ve seen, that’s for damn sure. Somehow he flew us out of there after a canister landed at his feet.”

Ginger blinked in surprise. Preliminary intel from the gala had shown attendees and the rest of the private security detail completely incapacitated in a matter of minutes.

“Their unit was no joke, Whiskey, but it’s amazing he flew and landed in the state he was in. What does he know about Statesmen, given that you’re holed up in one of our safehouses?”

Whiskey let out a sigh. He had wondered as well, thinking back to how Frankie had asked them for coordinates to their safehouse.

“I don’t know, I don’t think he knew before the gala. He definitely didn’t buy Bourbon’s cover that she was my executive assistant. I reckon it’s like you said, their unit was no joke. He’s smart and he knows Bourbon. Frankie’s on the up and up though, Ginger.”

Ginger let out a reluctant sigh, letting the silence hang in the air for a moment before she continued.

“Ok, you should talk to him about it before you come back, but we trust your judgement, Whiskey. I’d rather have been able to put you all under medical observation after what you went through, but all I can say is you three need rest, and a lot of it.”

“Don’t I know it, Ginger. Flyboy had a canister go off just about on top of him, and Bourbon wasn’t far from him. I lucked out and didn’t get it that bad. He said he only needed five hours, but the poor boy could barely stand when he woke me up this morning.”

“I’ll let Champ know you’ll debrief this afternoon.”

“14:00 should be fine. Could you also get a hold of Santiago, callsign “Pope”? He’s another friend of Bourbon and Flyboy, co-owns the private security company that was attached to the gala last night. He should be there for the debrief.”

“Consider it done, Whiskey.”

“Thanks, Ginger.”

He ended the call, turning and taking a moment to watch you and Frankie. It was obvious there were feelings between you two, and he wondered why you had never acted on them. You certainly hadn’t been shy with him once you both finally decided to jump headfirst into a relationship together. The times that you had mentioned Frankie, Jack noticed your eyes had been tinged with sadness. Whatever it was, they would get to the bottom of it together. While this was far from how they had discussed reaching out to Frankie, it had happened, and he could only hope that morning wouldn’t be too awkward or snuff things out before they had a chance to get started.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! If you’d like to be added to the taglist just shoot me a message!

Taglist: @danniburgh, @pascalslittlebrat, @yespolkadotkitty, @mothandpidgeon, @mouthymandalorian, @phoenixhalliwell, @itsme-aj467, @kesskirata , @rosiefridayrogersunday-reads, @driedgreentomatoes , @pintsizemama, @neganwifey25-blog

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #agent whiskey x reader x frankie morales #agent whiskey x you #frankie morales x you #agent whiskey x you x frankie morales #agent whiskey x f!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #afab reader #my fic #As It Should Be

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docockbrainrot · 3 years

Text

i think i want you (to leave)

Summary: We’re all running from something. Sometimes, metaphorically. Sometimes, literally. Literally running, from the very strangely hypnotizing supervillain that seems hellbent on ruining every bit of your life he can get all eight of his limbs on.

Pairing: Doc Ock X Reader/ Otto Octavius X Reader

Content: Slow Burn, NSFW eventually, 18+

AO3 link here.

Previous Chapter

Chapter 5

anathema// former vandal

The next several days are an uneventful blur. You barely leave your apartment, except for brief dog walks and grabbing food from the bodega across the street.

It’s 9 pm on Saturday and you’re fresh out of the shower, tucked away in a very fuzzy robe, lounging on the couch and watching YouTube on your television. You almost miss the subtle taptaptaptap sound coming from your window, you're so engrossed in the cooking show you’ve been binging. Gotta fill the void somehow, right?

You can’t see anything outside from where you’re sitting. The lights are on and make it impossible to peer through the reflections on the glass. Maybe it’s a bird. Or a branch is caught on the fire escape. Either way, you certainly can’t be assed to check it out and you take another sip of your chamomile tea- you’ve been trying everything under the sun, just about short of literally snorting lines of melatonin, to try to sleep better at night. Nothing’s been working. But you have been making a very valiant effort.

A few moments go by and you forget all about the window disturbance until,

TAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAP.

It’s jarring. It’s loud. Above all else, it’s annoying. Chekov spares you a look, like you’re the one making a racket. Effectively exasperated, you make an effort to set, not slam, down your mug, feeling decidedly not Calm and Relaxed as the tea promised. Suppose it’s not miracle shit though, is it? You would not be a good candidate for a horror movie because you fearlessly storm over to the window and throw it open (it wasn’t locked in the first place; you’re quite terrible at remembering to). You stick your head out and glower at whatever irritating mischief is happening out here, ready to rip the fire escape off the side of the brick building.

You’re greeted by something cold and hard (and indubiously metal, judging by how it felt against your sternum) shoving you back into your apartment, sending you sprawling unceremoniously to the hardwood floor. A string of profanities ready to leave your tongue, you sit up and adjust your robe in an attempt to preserve a modicum of your modesty. The rant dies in your throat as red eyed claws grip the threshold of your pre-war window and it’s almost comical the way He maneuvers himself in, far too large to be making these sorts of entrances. Standing up to his full height before you while you’re still sitting dumbfounded on the floor reminds you of just how impressively built he is. You manage to pick your jaw up, but your ass remains firmly planted on the wood.

“Uh… you could have just used the buzzer, dude. I have a front door, you know,” you sputter out, brain blitzing in pretty much every way possible. Your thoughts are racing and eventually they settle on the most important thing you can think to ask in that moment: “... Why aren’t you wearing a shirt.” You can't help the way your eyes are drawn to his broad chest, gaze lingering on the vast scarring that spills out from the metal contraption clamped around his midsection.

Otto very graciously closes the window behind himself. Or at least his little robot accomplices do it for him. You still aren’t sure what’s going on with that- the whole AI thing. Not even a blip on your radar of concerns at this point. “Didn’t want anyone to see me come in. Your building has a camera on the front, facing the street.”

“That’s why you’re shirtless?” You ask dumbly. Interesting method of camouflage. “What? No- what? It doesn’t matter- listen to me. I need you to do something for me. A small favor.”

He doesn’t seem to notice the compromised position he put you in. Typical. Gathering up your broken pride, you get up and tighten the tie of your robe a bit. It isn’t until then that he has the decency to look a smidge embarrassed and you hope you didn't just give him a free show on your way to getting to your feet. “You literally just broke into my apartment and now you’re asking for a favor? We barely know each other!”

“Less complicated when there's nothing personal involved yet, plus- you let me in,” he corrects you. You wish he would stop doing that. You wish he would stop meeting with you like this, under weird and mysterious circumstances. Even though it's only been like twice. You're already over it.

“You threw me across the room!”

“Touche.”

Otto does not apologize and you did not sincerely expect him to. The look on his face reads more like the cat that got the canary than regretful. You feel as though you’ve come to recognize that expression on his face and you also feel as though you don’t much like the fact that you’ve enough encounters with this man that you can recognize a damn thing about him. “What… could you possibly need me to do for you? I am not robbing a bank.” You just want to get that out into the open as soon as possible.

“I don’t need your help robbing a bank,” he snorts as if the idea is preposterous and you take a moment to feel insulted. Wow. Okay. You could totally rob a bank if you wanted to. Deciding to not comment on your wounded ego, you let him get to the point. Otto pulls something out of his inner coat pocket. It's some kind of rolled up paper and you think at first maybe it's a newspaper or magazine. He unfurls it onto the coffee table and holds it open with two metal claws on either side so it doesn't ravel itself back up.

You realize it's a blueprint. "This is… Oscorp," you point out stupidly, brow furrowing in confusion. There's levels to what's happening here. Layers upon layers, melding together with rot and decay and you can all but smell it. But there's something missing, something that would tie all of the wackjob shit that's been happening to you and around you together. It feels like when you have a very particular thought and then walking into another room makes it dissolve from your head. You're trying to grasp for it, to fit the puzzle pieces together, but it's just out of reach.

"Yes. It is. I have a small task I need you to do," Otto starts off, metal phalanges pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head as he looks over at you. For the first time, you can see his eyes in the light. The warm amber feels like a mockery- you have seen his cruelty in action.

"Where did you get this?"

"Does it matter?" Of course he'd say that.

Your fingertips brush against the metaphorical wayward chain link. It's right there. You just have to grab it and pull it back to you, like the anchor of a ship before it can set sail.

He's talking. You aren't listening. He's tracing a finger over the schematics. You don't see it. Realization washes over you in a heart-dropping tsunami. The voicemail you got from Oscorp plays like a broken record in your mind. 'Hello, Y/N. We're calling in regards to your employment status here at Oscorp. Unfortunately, due to a breach of security, we are having to make staffing cuts and are going to have to let you go. We appreciate your time and effort and wish you the best of luck in your next endeavor.' It didn't make sense at the time. A lot of things didn't. You replay the scene of poor David, desperately pleading for his life at the hands of the man hunched over here, just in your living room. You mentally re-run it over and over like bad 80s sitcoms on late night television.

"Lab Coat Guy…"

You don't realize you whispered it out loud until Otto goes silent.

"What?"

You slowly look at him and take a single step backwards, shaking your head. The company embroidered on David's lab coat hadn't been clear to you in the moment- but it's crystal in hindsight. Oscorp. "You got me fired." Your tone is flat, until anger flashes through you, like a streak of lightning through a dark, moonless sky, illuminating all of things that didn’t make sense before.

"It doesn't matter. What I need you to do-" He's so nonchalant, so blasé that it only stokes the embers of frustration until there's a roaring blaze burning beneath your skin. It's all about him, what he needs, what he wants. He has the nerve, the audacity, to keep traipsing into your life, kicking you while you're down and then ask for favors? You want to say all of that to him but unfortunately for you, you're an angry crier. Your outburst of bravery at him the last time you saw each other had surprised even you- but now there's so much more emotion roiling around inside you.

"No. No, no. Fuck you. You got me fired! I can't- I can't not have a job, I have to pay rent! You could get me arrested for just talking to you!" Oscorp had you canned to tie up any potential loose ends before anymore Davids could slip through the cracks. You think about how scared the poor dude must have been, threatened into stealing blueprints from the biggest corporation in the city, for one of the most infamous criminals. You don't know how they found out you were even remotely involved and you don't want to know.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks and once the floodgates have opened you're very familiar with how long it's going to take to close them again. After all you've been bottling this up since you found out, too disappointed to even tell any of your friends or family.

Otto appears taken aback, to say the least. He even looks like he's at a loss for words; that's a first. You know he could kill you where you stand in the blink of an eye, but in that moment you don’t even care. You’ve been trying so hard for so long to get on your feet, to do things for yourself and get away from the past. You moved across the country, you left everything behind, you got a damn dog. It seems like every time you manage to take a step forward in life, you’re knocked flat on your ass, apparently literally sometimes. It isn’t fair. Things don’t come easily to you, you’ve always had to work for them. You aren’t wealthy, you aren’t a supergenius, you’re just… you. The job at Oscorp was good money and you really felt like you were getting your shit together for a while.

“They’re not who you think they are,” he says finally, so calmly, with such carefulness about his words, that you sniffle pathetically and look up at him. He doesn’t look nearly as pleased with himself as you thought he might. And here you’ve been, under the impression that he gets off on hurting people. “Oscorp. I’m not… I’m not just doing this for me. You have to understand that.”

The schematics are furled up and tucked away. You make the mistake of meeting his eyes. Maybe it’s just the tears that blur your vision, but you swear you see a softness there before they’re hidden away again by his glasses.

He lingers at the window.

“I hope you’ll reconsider.” And then he was making his exit, even taking care to gently close the window on the way out. But he raps on the glass with his knuckles from where he stands on the fire escape and you know the look of confusion on your tear-streaked face speaks for itself. Otto points to the latches on the window. ‘Lock it.’ He mouths before he’s gone, presumably to wreak havoc and harass other unsuspecting young women that don’t want anything to do with him.

You thought everything had come together- but the more sense you make of it, the less you seem sure of the bigger picture. You aren't even sure exactly what he wanted you to do.

You’re left with an endless bounty of questions, and not enough answers to satisfy any of them.

#otto octavius x reader #doc ock x reader #fanfiction #otto octavius #doc ock

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go.

(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).

Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”

Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).

“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”

The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.

But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.

“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”

He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.

“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”

Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....

“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”

He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.

“Listen, you - “

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”

“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”

Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.

“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”

The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you.

For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.

Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome.

“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”

She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.

He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.

“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”

His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.

He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”

Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”

“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”

“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?

Jason sighed gustily.

“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.

“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”

Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”

He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.

“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.

She ignored him, because of course she did.

“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.

“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”

Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.

“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”

She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?

“What’s this all about anyway?”

“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”

Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.

“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking his whole foot in his mouth.

“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”

She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”

Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.

Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.

“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”

Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.

“What?”

Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame.

“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”

“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”

Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”

Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.

“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.

“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”

Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.

“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later.

TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?

TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.

TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?

TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.

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legends-live-in-memories · 3 years

Text

“How Did All This Happen?”- A Memoire by one Marinette Dupain-Cheng 5

hi. im back. after slightly longer than usual (my usual was like everyday, not happening again) i have returned. :) this update is also slightly longer than usual too but who complains about that?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

without further ado

Did Marinette Miss Her Own Wedding? I

Constantine was having a horrible time, as far as Marinette could tell. His phone kept ringing, which he was pointedly ignoring, and he looked more and more frustrated as he skimmed through one of his many grimoires. He was also very sober. Maybe that had something to do with it.

After Marinette’s little excursion out with Plagg the previous night, Constantine joined her and her grandfather and explained the lore behind the Renlings and what they were capable of. Marinette was already over it. It’s one thing to be magical guardians of one set magical gods, but animal spirits that transform the wielder into the respective animal is borderline ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. And Constantine wants her to find them. Why not the Justice League? Or their team of proteges? Well, apparently, Constantine has a healthy distrust of the Justice League and magic they are unfamiliar with. Something about a mystical house no longer existing because somebody was suspicious. They fucked around and found out, as Plagg so eloquently put it. She didn’t know how she felt about aiding Constantine in his paranoia.

Anyways, Marinette was now Constantine’s go-to whenever he wanted to keep things away from the JL. She would have said no like a reasonable person, but she was at least getting more magical training and could actually use some of the spells in the Miraculous grimoire. Speaking of which, the grimoire that Constantine was hunching over was supposed to help them in finding the other Prodigiouses. The Kwamis were surprisingly unhelpful as they have never heard of the Prodigiouses or Renlings.

After what could have been hours of grueling translating and spellwork, Constantine had finally figured out the location of the eight total Renlings and what their prodigiouses looked like. While Marinette and Master Fu began scheming appropriate retrieval plans, Constantine went to answer his many missed calls.

“What?!” Well that sounded concerning. Constantine looked ready to pull his hair out from scalp with tweezers. Whatever news he just received must have been awful for him to lose his composure like this. Good.

“You lot are planning to do what now?” Oh, was this JL business? Should Marinette be listening to this, albeit one-sided, conversation?

“And why do you all need to do this?”

“Don’t give me that attitude. I’m working on something important.”

“Yes it is important, Zatanna. Please don’t let that group of League Juniors do this.”

“You even got me saying ‘please.’ No I can not tell you why”

“Well what do you mean you can’t trust me?!” This was starting to sound serious. The popcorn that Wayzz brought was also making this ten times more entertaining.

“Zatanna-” Oh he got cut off. Serves him right.

“Fine, be that way.” Constantine forcefully ended the call and was pouting like a child.

Marinette didn’t know if she should ask anything but she had the feeling it was related to the prodigiouses and tracking them. Were the League getting involved? It would explain his desperation to not have them interfere.

“I can’t believe them.” Looks like Marinette didn’t have to make the decision after all. He was going to rant about it.

“What can’t you believe, Constantine?” Her grandfather appeared equally as curious.

“The Team are going to try and track down the prodigiouses. Luckily, they only think there are five rather than eight.” He paused to run his hands through his already disheveled hair. “I don’t know which five they’re tracking. Also, they probably know you have the Snake’s Fang.”

“Pardon?” Marinette doesn’t know what she would do if she was on the Justice League’s most wanted.

“Zatanna didn’t outright say it, but Kobra probably told them it was taken from him. That’s probably how they knew about the others too. Thanks for that.”

“First of all, I didn’t even know what these things were so don’t blame me. Second of all, this could have all been avoided if you just told them!” Marinette did not appreciate the blame being put on her for the League’s involvement. She wasn’t done ripping Constantine a new one yet either. “Especially considering the fact that you knew that their secondary team had a mission there. UN rules or not. But no! You wanted to keep all your magical secrets to yourself. So don’t blame me for the consequences of your own actions.” She was fuming at this point, probably overreacting, but she was tired of cleaning up after people who won’t so much as thank her.

The ensuing silence was deafening and eyes that weren’t on Marinette were on Constantine. He looked rather surprised at Marinette’s show of spine, probably forgetting that she was born and raised in the League of Shadows. He never will again if he keeps pushing his luck.

Fu cleared his throat, probably clogged from the awkward tension. “Well, now that that’s all dealt with, do you know what your next move is Constantine? Do we actively hinder the League for the sake of your own peace of mind or do you talk to them and work collaboratively with them?”

Constantine, who was still doing his best fish impersonation since Marinette—no, Mei Fu—dragged him for everything he’s worth, tried to string together an answer.

“I still think it’s best we don’t involve the Justice League with this. We should try to intervene and cut off their attempts of retrieving the prodigiouses.” He sounded like a child trying to convince their parents that they didn’t break the expensive vase. Very pitiful and very unconvincing.

“Fine.” Pardon? Did her grandfather just agree? “We’ll help you keep the prodigiouses and the Renlings away from the Justice League.” Wow. Okay. So he’s just agreeing with him. Three guesses as to who will actually be the one to retrieve them. Wonderful.

Groaning with the weight of a thousand suns, Marinette also voiced her consent. The Kwamis were silent throughout this, not expressing their opinions. Except for Trixx, who had periodically rolled his eyes so hard Marinette would have been concerned he had popped a few blood vessels, if he had any.

They spent the rest of the week planning and convincing her parents that she wasn’t in danger with her grandfather. They agreed that Marinette would retrieve the Dragon’s Claw first. Despite Brazil being closer, the Monkey’s tail would be harder to find in the dense forestry so they didn’t want to waste time on an extended search until much later.

If you were to ask Marinette, the week was not enough to prepare. She made arrangements to stay with the Tsurugi family and convinced Kagami to help her in the mission. Her mother would be providing them with non-miraculous weapons as a back-up. Lady Tomoe was too understanding of her daughter being a magic-wielding superhero in Marinette’s opinion. Not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth, Marinette did not make any comments about the very impressive artillery of weapons. She chose a pair of double broadswords while Kagami stuck to a katana. Kagami also had the Dragon and the Ladybug prepared while Marinette stuck to the Tiger and Horse. Plagg didn’t want to miss out on the action and planned to tag along again. Wayzz made an off-handed comment about Plagg’s sixth sense for chaos and his recent desire to accompany Marinette on these missions. Overthinking whatever that was supposed to mean had cost Marinette six hours of sleep.

While everything had been physically prepared, Marinette had yet to cope with the whole ‘going behind the backs of the Justice League because Constantine was paranoid’ thing. But this will not be the worst thing she has done. She also has the godsend, Kagami, to pull her out of any impending mental spirals. Now all that’s left is to actually get the Dragon’s Claw.

According to Constantine, the Dragon’s Claw was located inside the dojo of a martial arts master, O Sensei. Kagami, to be referred to as Tonbo, meaning Dragonfly, was to guard the perimeter for any individuals who could get in the way, while Marinette, codenamed Tigerlily with this combination of miraculouses, was to find the Dragon’s Claw, camouflaged by the tiger miraculous, and teleport them both back out. It was simple enough in planning and should be simple enough in execution. Even if the sensei of the dojo was to be made aware of their presence, They were expecting the element of surprise to give them an advantage. You know, outside of Marinette’s assassin training. So, yeah the plan was simple.

Except for the part where a group of the young Justice League heroes were already there negotiating with whom she assumed was O sensei. She recognized Kid Flash, Robin and Nightwing. The two women with them were unfamiliar. She also found the Dragon’s Claw in the sensei’s hand. She was positioned on a tree branch looking into a window in the room. If she timed this right, she could grab the necklace and portal out of the room to Tonbo and then portal back to the Tsurugi residence. That plan carries the risk of being seen but the pay-off should be worth it.

Poised to leap from the branch, Tigerlily steadied her breathing and prepared to call on the Horse’s Voyage. Still camouflaged, she jumped through the window and summoned the portal, about to grab for the necklace. Except she grabbed nothing and was suspended in the air.

Who she knew now was Ms. Martian was using her telekinetic abilities to suspend her. Kid Flash sped his way over and quickly tied her, the contact breaking the camouflage charm. They must have figured she would appear at one of the locations eventually and planned a contingency plan for her appearance. The martian hasn’t read her mind yet, so maybe they thought she was non-hostile. That thought wouldn’t last long however as Tonbo emerged from the portal and, using the Flame Dragon, took down Ms. Martian. Tigerlily used the distraction to undo the bindings and get in a fighting stance. Nightwing and Robin were protecting O sensei while Kid Flash and the other woman charged at the two.

Kid Flash was circling the two faster and tighter, corralling them together. Tigerlily drew for her broadswords and slashed the old floor boards. Kicking them in Kid Flash’s path, she knocked him off balance and thumped him the back of the head with the butt of her blade, knocking him down. Tonbo called for her Storm Dragon to subdue her opponent, who was also knocked down, then strung up both with the Ladybug yoyo. Tigerlily began a steady approach to the two batboys. She was ready to attack first but Nightwing got the upper hand. He drew his escrima sticks and swiped for Tigerlily’s head. She blocked with one sword and jump kicked to his chest, missing him entirely as he had crouched to sweep her legs from underneath her. Rolling out of the fall, Tigerlily slashed for his rising back but he intercepted with his other stick. He turned to face her and barrelled his full strength into her. They crashed into the nearby wall and at a standstill.

Tonbo was caught in a clash of katanas with Robin, neither side giving way to the other. If Tigerlily was more conscious of their fight than her own, she would have noticed familiar fighting techniques that were ingrained in her since birth. Alas, her attention was on the blue bird in front of her. Using his force that kept her against the wall, She double kicked him in the chest, forcing him away. Robin and Tonbo had broken away from each other and Tonbo aimed to stab Nightwing in the leg. Nonfatally of course, she wasn’t an ex-assassin as far as Tigerlily knew. Right?

Anyways, her attack switched up the fight as now Tigerlily tried to dodge under Robin's incoming blade. Sliding on her knees, she reached to where O sensei was situated with the Dragon’s Claw. Frustrated with the night’s turn of events and forgetting all sense of pleasantries, Tigerlily tried to grab for the necklace. The business end of a katana was swiftly placed under her jaw. One wrong move meant game over.

“What do you want with the Dragon’s Claw?” Robin sounded like he was holding back from saying something.

“An acquaintance of mine wishes for you all to not have it. I am merely doing him a favor, Tweety Bird.” Where did that nickname come from? She must have been internally catastrophizing more than she thought she was if she was actually trying to flirt her way out of this. Tonbo’s exasperation was made loud and clear with that answering sigh.

“Flattery gets you nowhere, Mei.” Robin’s arm twitched at that.

“Wait, you know her?” “You know him?” Nightwing’s and Tonbo’s voices overlapped but Tigerlily registered none of it as her ears were ringing with spiked emotions she thought she had buried years ago. Only a few people knew her by that name. Kagami, Chloe, Luka and Adrien were the only people outside of the League of Shadows who knew her by that name. Even then, there was only one person her age with the Shadows who knew her. But it couldn’t be him. He was supposed to be dead. There was no way in hell that the Boy Wonder holding a katana to her throat was—

“Damian?!”

Taglist:

@deathwishy @neakco @virtualreading @f-rget-lt @your-resident-chicken-nugget @nathleigh @toodaloo-kangaroo @irontimetravelflower @trippingovermyfeet @t1dwarrior-of-earth @tip-tap-tired @fidget-eep @thenillabean @officiallydarkgeek @mystery-5-5 @moonlightstar64 @just-an-observer-ignore-me @nightstarblue @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @fan-written @jjmjjktth @vixen-uchiha @zorua-adorable @nnon-it-up

#maribat #mlb x dc #daminette #badass!marinette dupain cheng #maridami #hdath #if you asked to be on the taglist but arent there let me know #hehehehe #i forgot to proofread oops #no beta we die like jason

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victoria-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter One: The Queen of Hearts

AN: At first, I was going to delete this story because it wasn’t gaining any traction, which was disappointing, but as the days passed the notes started coming in I decided to keep it posted. Thank you to everyone that’s read this fic so far.

Trigger Warnings: subtle racism

Word Count: 4.6k

Chapter Two: Division X

The car journey was slow and tedious, it had only been three hours since the three of us had set off. I was dozing off in the back seat cocooned in my tan wool coat as my head used the window as a pillow, listening to Charles and Erik talk softly amongst themselves, they must have thought I was fully asleep.

"Why recruit an empath?" Erik asked curiously. "Why not recruit someone with a more destructive power?"

"You forget Claudia is also telekinetic," Charles answered. "I mean did you see her? When she lifted that knife, her eyes, it was as if they were glowing. It was beautiful to look at!" Charles exclaimed, and I could envision a brilliant smile on his face.

"You find her attractive, don't you?" Erik asked, almost amused. "I'm sure Agent MacTaggert will understand," Erik continued, still in a teasing tone.

Charles chuckled delightfully, "I'm not going to comment on that," Charles stated, clearing his throat and changing the topic. "But do not discount her empathy as not a destructive gift, that particular ability can enhance her mind and body to be nearly superhuman if she wished it to do so, along with projecting her emotions to other people. Empathy can be extremely dangerous,"

"Do you think she has used it in a dangerous way?" Erik questioned. Erik's question hung in the air for a while. "Charles?" he prompted.

"There is danger within her," Charles answered softly.

His voice, hazy as the air in summertime, seemed to come from somewhere outside of himself. The two of them were silent then, knowing and sharing this sudden, troubling observation. Just as my eyes felt heavy and I felt myself drifting into a peaceful sleep when Erik's voice startled me.

"Charles, do you really think that this is a good idea?"

"Erik, if I didn't have faith in how powerful her abilities are then I never would have allowed her to get mixed up in this in the first place," Charles assured.

"And just how powerful are her abilities, Charles? I feel like there's something you're hiding. What more can she do?"

"She's more powerful than even she knows. You've only sampled a small amount of the power she possesses. But I think that she's holding back what she can do, so until she tells us, we'll have to wait,"

My mind became fuzzy and I soon drifted off into total and calm oblivion.

~~~x~~~

When I woke up, my head was still resting on the window. I lifted my head from my makeshift pillow and saw Erik looking at me, through the rear view mirror, with a mixture of emotions that I didn't recognize. I shifted slightly and sat up slowly, my limbs groaning in protest. It was now early afternoon, as we made the drive to the CIA headquarters.

My eyes shifted between the back of Erik's seat and the back of Charles seat every few minutes. Charles looked at the mirror, shifting his eyes slightly so he can still see the road and keep eye contact with me.

"So Claudia," he began in attempt to break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen on the car now that I was awake. "What did you do at your job?" Charles asked politely.

My eye twitched as I stared at the mirror, "Clearly, I was in maintenance," I retorted sleep still heavy in my voice, as I gestured at my dress underneath my coat.

Erik's eyes moved from the passenger side window back to the mirror, looking at me, "Sarcasm won't be the best way to pass time," he turned his attention back to the road.

We sit in a tense silence, I never was one for small talk. I just left my home and job only a few hours ago to help two strangers I just met. They worked for the government, which raised my suspicion, but the fact that they knew how to find me so easily and knew what I could do was unnerving. I believe that I deserved to be left alone with my thoughts, this was a lot for me.

After a few minutes of more tense silence I spoke up again, "Psychologist," I answered, causing the two men to look back at me. "I was a psychologist's assistant, I only have my bachelor's degree," I explained.

It was the perfect cover, I gave mental support to patients and their families. No one really knew what I was and what I could do if I was given the chance. Secretly, I always hoped something would happen that'd make me use my powers for a cause bigger than myself.

Charles smiled at me, "Where did you attend college?"

My voice turned monotone, "Howard University, but you probably already knew that and my whole life story," I remarked.

"Contrary to your belief, I am not one to betray someone's trust. You asked me to stay out of your head, so until I have your permission, I won't reach out for you telepathically," Charles looked at the rear view mirror again, catching my eyes again.

Regret flashed in my eyes as I dropped my gaze, playing with my hands, "My apologies,"

"There's no need to apologize to me, Claudia,"

I cleared my throat, feeling uncomfortable, I glanced out the window, "Where are we?" I asked, changing the subject.

"We're coming up to the headquarters now," Charles answered, gesturing to the large building looming up ahead of us.

I looked out of the window to see the headquarters. It was made up of one huge tan stone building surrounded by acres of clean, green fields and deciduous trees, with a rather odd looking satellite to the left of it that looked like a large golf ball atop of a tee. It was quite remarkable and imposing, but also very conspicuous.

"I would have thought that it would be more camouflaged, being a government building and all," I quipped, and Erik let out a light chuckle.

The car came to a gradual stop before we pulled up to the curb and we all stepped out of the car.

"Home sweet home," Erik noted dryly.

The air had turned cold and bitter and I shrugged my coat closer to me in an attempt to keep warm, before I grabbed my suit case out of the black car. Charles, Erik, and I had gone back to my apartment after I was recruited to gather my clothes and valuables into my suitcase. I smiled inwardly thinking back on how Erik ordered me to hurry up and pack my belongings and I did just the exact opposite just to piss him off.

"I thought I told you to make it quick," Erik grumbled, trying to steer me out of my own apartment.

"You did. I just didn't listen," I answered simply, before latching onto Charles' arm, and he guided me out the apartment.

"Claudia, Erik. Please. Do try to get on. We have a six hour car journey ahead of us and I don't think that my sanity will be able to stand you two bickering for that length of time," Charles groaned.

"My, my, is he always like that?" I asked, looking over my shoulder with a wry grin and Erik just glared at me.

"Erik?"

"Who else?" I retorted, rolling my eyes. "Is he always so hostile towards people?"

"I would say not trusting in your case, my dear," Charles corrected. "Just give him time and he will come around, probably not entirely, but I trust he will not try to kill you," Charles stated sending me a reassuring smile, that I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow to.

"I'd like to see him try,"

It was starting to become fun, arguing with Erik. He had a quick wit, not unlike myself. We could keep up with each other. Shaking my head out of my daze, I closed the car door. Charles came up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder and slowly guided me towards the front door.

"Now Claudia, there are six more people here just like us. You will meet them shortly," Charles informed, as I walked beside him with suitcase in hand.

"Ah, Charles, Erik, welcome back. I see you have brought one more recruit," A large, more plump man greeted us, sporting a black suit, wore square glasses, and had jet black hair. "Welcome to my facility, the CIA's new Mutant Division," he welcomed as I looked on impressed. He extended his hand out to me, I was shocked by the gesture. "I'm Agent Platt, and I promise you I'm on your side,"

"Claudia Walker," I greeted back smiling while giving his hand a firm shake. "And by that I hope you mean you support us, because you aren't a mutant," I hinted, my smile never wavered. Agent Platt raised his eyebrows, glancing to Charles uncomfortably. "I'm an empath Mr. Platt. I might not know what you're thinking, but rest assured I know what you're feeling," the man smiled, his cheeks scrunching up.

"Well, anyway, let's introduce you to your new partners, Claudia. You'll be with them for a...long while, so might as well get acquainted," Agent Platt stated.

"We are actually are on their way Agent Platt," Charles informed, shoving his hands in pocket. "We got it from here," Charles stated.

Mr. Platt nodded, "It was nice meeting you, Claudia," I gave small wave and the man twisted around and walked away from us.

As we moved around the halls, which were full of CIA agents, some of them had stopped in their tracks, watching as the three of us made our way through. Some had disgusted looks on their faces, like they had smelled something awful. Others had smirks plastered on their face, and I could see it in their eyes that they were working on plans on how to make my life miserable. It wouldn't be hard, those stares were enough to make me feel uncomfortable.

Charles and Erik seemingly ignored the stares and both pointed out places. It had already become easy to tell who really was fully into this, and that was Charles. As we moved into the laboratories, he lit up with explaining ideas of mutations in genes and all sort of things that revolved around an expansion of the human race. His hope for this new sort of combined world was almost infectious. And then there was Erik, the gruffer of the two who just sort of nodded along, ignoring the mutations speeches, but pointed of the more relevant things like the bathroom and kitchen. Both had their positives and negatives, and you could tell that they were good friends that filled in what the other was lacking a bit.

"Here is where you'll be staying," Charles pushed open the door to the small simple room. "All of us are staying in this hallway. Welcome to your new home Claudia," I looked at Charles smile and internally shake my head.

This was hardly my home. All it was was a big, white, cold building that stuck out like a neon flashing light. It might as well say "Mutants helping the CIA are here. Come check them out!"

I opened my mouth to voice my opinion, but changed my mind, "Thanks," I smiled to him as I stepped in and put my bag on the bed.

"Do you mind if I change. Sleeping and sitting in this dress for six hours was incredibly uncomfortable," I explained.

"Of course, we'll be right outside the door," Charles replied, and he left the room.

My eyes scanned over the room once more, my bedroom looked like a stereotypical military barrack. Grey walls, grey prickly carpet, grey, bland itchy bed covers, a lumpy mattress, standard chest of drawers and a small desk with a small desk lamp. No personality. At. All. It was definitely going to need a change, because this would not do.

"Alright," I shrugged and turned to unpack my suitcase. Flipping it open I started pulling out my perfectly folded clothing and shoes. It was then as I started stooped down and lined my shoes up along the end of my bed that I realized Erik was still there, because he started chuckling.

"Can I help you, Chuckles?" I questioned, glancing back up at him.

"Nope, just wondering where the crack is in that perfect exterior you've built," he shrugged. "I mean, from what I've seen, all of us have one," he reasoned and I knew that he wasn't just talking of the human race, but specifically mutants.

"You tell me yours and I'll possibly tell you mine," I smirked as he raised an eyebrow to me and leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms.

"I'm a survivor of the Holocaust," he replied with a look that silently tested me to freak out or something with this information.

This man wanted a reaction and I wasn't going to give it to him.

"That's one enormous crack," I turned back to him unconsciously rubbing my wrist, a motion that Erik did not miss as he raised a curious eyebrow.

"You're telling me," he replied dryly. "So...come on. You've got the Miss Perfect act down to a 'T', so where is it?" Erik asked, his eyes scanning over me.

"I don't if I should say now, yours would trump mine any day," I explained, as I ran my hand down my neck uncomfortably. I cleared my throat hoping to dispel the suffocating atmosphere that was closing in on me. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to change," I reminded, and Erik shot annoyed glance and grunted, before leaving the room.

I turned back to my suitcase and searched through my clothes to change into some more comfortable clothing. After finally deciding on what to wear I had changed into a pair of black cropped pants, flats, and a red turtleneck sweater. I walked out of my room, to see Erik and Charles waiting next to my door.

"Did you get lost in there?" Erik asked irritatedly.

"No. Beauty takes time, didn't you know?" I retorted, and Erik rolled his eyes. "Now, where are the other mutants, Charles?" I asked, focusing my gaze on Charles now.

"Follow me," Charles said, extending his arm out.

We had taken several corridors before finally coming to the room where the others were being kept. I grimaced at my thoughts, I made them sound like caged animals.

Charles stopped at the doors and turned to me, "Can you make sure they don't get into too much trouble? Charles requested.

I nodded slightly curious to see who I'm working with, "I'll be sure to," I answered.

As we stood in front of the door I took a moment to compose myself. I smoothed out the wrinkles in my pants and made sure my hair was in place though it was loose, I wanted make sure it wasn't all over the place. After all, first impressions were everything.

Charles pushed open the double doors and walked in. Erik followed with me in tow. I looked around the room. It was quite large with chairs and tables, couches in the middle and a fish tank against a wall. Two large windows were on either side of the room and it looked out towards the grounds.

"Everyone, I would like you to meet our final recruit,"

I then noticed the other people in the room. They were all younger than me, and staring at me.

"This is Claudia Walker and I hope you treat her well. Now if you would excuse Erik and I, we have some matters to discuss," he announced.

My head snapped up and glared at Charles' retreating form. I lifted my barrier slightly.

"Feed me to the dogs why don't you,"

Charles left with a laugh and several confused glances before he and Erik were finally out of the room. A stunning blonde ran up to me, pulling me into a tight embrace. I stepped back a little startled. Admittedly, I enjoyed being wrapped in her arms, it had been a long time since I last had a friend.

"I'm Raven, Charles' sister," she introduced, pulling away.

"I didn't know he had one," I replied, letting out a laugh.

"Well, he's barely here anymore to talk," Raven sighed, and then flashed me a fake smile. "Anyway, come and meet the others!" Her faux smile turned into a grin as she dragged me to the sofa. "Okay, this is Armando, but he prefers to be called Darwin," Raven started, nodding towards a slim, dark skinned man, clearly the oldest of the group of teens. "Angel," she named, nodding at a beautiful, tan skinned girl, with pitch black hair, and sultry, dark brown eyes. "Sean," my eyes moving to Sean, a pale, ginger, and rather lanky boy.

Sean stood up and took my hand, kissing it, "Sean Cassidy. Sixteen years old, I like fish, and pretty girls with black hair," he hinted. Raven and I exchanged amused looks that said, "Is he serious?"

"Teenage boys and their hormones. It's like being back in high school," I thought.

A muscular, blond boy pulled Sean back into his seat by his shirt, "Alright Casanova," he said dryly, and a laugh escaped me. "Get over it, man. She's out of your league, and probably older than you," the blond boy did a double take, his hand still fisted in Sean's shirt, "Wait, how old are you?" he questioned.

"Twenty-two," I answered.

"Six years older, man," the blond boy pointed to Sean before letting him go.

"I can take older women!" Sean protested.

The boy rolled his eyes and turned to me, "Excuse Ginger's-"

"Hey!" Sean interjected.

"Sad and obvious excuse to get you in a closet, a date, or in his bed...but I'm Alex. Alex Summers," he introduced, a smile forming on his face.

"And finally, Hank," Raven continued, motioning to the last guy left, clearly the nerd of the group, with his glasses and dorky jumper.

Hank reached out a hand, that I briefly shook, knowing it made Raven uncomfortable. She clearly liked him, it wasn't that I couldn't see where she was coming from. He was cute in a way, but just not my type.

"Now we're government agents, we should have code names," Raven suggested. "I want to be called Mystique," she announced, clearly having previously thought about it.

"Damn! I wanted to be called Mystique," Sean protested, faking disappointment. I couldn't help but chuckle and shake my head.

"Well, tough I called it," Raven laughed.

In seconds, blue scales trickled down her body before feathering into a perfect replica of Sean. Sean was taken aback, nearly spilling his drink. After the initial shocked faded, Sean began to study himself. We couldn't help but gape, it was truly amazing.

"Besides, I'm way more mysterious than you," Raven added, everyone broke into laughter, giving Raven a round of applause, as Sean turned back into a rather bashful Raven.

"Darwin, what about you?" Raven asked, taking her applause modestly.

"Well Darwin is already a nickname and it kind of fits," he nodded at us. "Adapt to survive an' all. Check this out,"

Darwin strode over to the fish tank, I couldn't help but wonder what he was about to do. He dunked his head into to the water of the fish tank, we didn't even have to blink before newly formed gills appeared on his face. We began to cheer, as he opened his mouth, impersonating a fish. The gills disappeared as he took his head out of the tank, shaking off the water, before signalling to Sean.

"What about you?" he inquired.

Sean pressed his hands together, taking a moment to decide.

"I'm going to be...Banshee," Sean decided.

I was about to open my mouth to speak before I was interrupted by Hank.

"Why do you want to be named after a wailing spirit?" he wondered, taking the words straight from my lips, I nodded in agreement.

"You might wanna cover your ears," Sean warned, getting up from his chair, revealing his full height, winking directly at me and I rolled my eyes.

All of us frowned in sheer confusion before reluctantly covering our ears. Sean bent down, keeping us in suspense. Letting out a high pitch whistling noise, shattering the glass window. Sean winced slightly when he saw the damage he had done before joining in with the others laughter. I gazed in horror at it.

"Charles is going to murder me," I thought to myself.

Maybe I would be able to...fix it, but I knew it was a useless thought.

"Your turn," Sean signaled at Angel, returning to his previous seat.

"My stage name was Angel," she began, standing up, sliding the leather jacket down her arms, revealing her bare back. Sean let out a wolf whistle and Alex shifted uncomfortably, clearly affected. "It kinda fits," Angel turned around revealing tattooed wings on her back slowly peeling off, starting to flutter effortlessly.

"You can fly?!" Raven gaped, mesmerized by her pixie wings.

"Uhuh and..." she bent over, and spat out a ball of what appeared to be acid onto the top of the statues head.

I had to suppress another groan at the damage inflicted upon the statue. Somehow I knew that the night was only going to get more destructive.

"That's disgusting," I muttered under my breath, thinking no one could hear me.

"Well what can you do," Angel challenged me, since I wasn't that impressed with her display.

I smirked and stood up, straightening myself out, "Well, I'm an empath. I can detect other peoples feelings and manipulate them, Watch," I instructed.

I walked over to Darwin and place my hand on his arm, "Amazement," I named, before moving over to Sean. I touched his arm, wrinkling my nose a little. "Lust. Ew," I commented, as everyone laughed and Sean turned a light shade of pink. "And..." I walked towards Alex, about to do my trick on him, when I see him tense up.

The emotions I feel are mixed, there is a hint of happiness, but it is over shadowed by a depressing, dark feeling. I looked into his eyes and there is so much mystery, so much hurt, that I am compelled not to reveal this boy's current emotional state to the entire group.

"... You get the picture," I finished, walking away. I might've been mistaken, but I swear I felt a slight sense of gratitude radiating off of Alex. I took a seat across from Angel, sitting at the edge of it, focusing on Angel's brain. "What I'm doing right now is accessing the hippocampus of Angel's brain, having that send messages to the amygdala, which is the part of the brain that is responsible for emotions. I have to choose an emotion then release and Angel will act the way that emotion wants her to," I explained, looking at everyone.

My choice was to make her really sad, I don't know why but it was just for no reason. When I released her brain, she started to cry hysterically. She could probably fill a bathtub with her tears. Releasing my control over Angel, she calmed down after few minutes, everyone choked with laughter, and Angel glared at me.

"Ask and you shall receive," I stated, returning an innocent smile with a shrug.

"Oh, and I can also-" I broke off, as I pointed towards Sean's glass that he was about to take a drink out of. It took itself out of his hand surrounded in a violet aura and hovered just out of his reach. They all looked up at me in amazement. Sean whistled, clapping. I gave a small smile, bowing in my seat.

"Hmm...what about...Blithe? But spelt B-l-y-t-h-e!" Raven said excitedly.

"I don't get it," Sean stated, confusion evident in his expression.

"It means to be happy and carefree," Hank explained, quietly but all of us heard him and we turned to look at him. He cleared his throat before carrying on looking at me. "It also means to show a casual and cheerful indifference, not that I'm trying to say that you do-" Hank starting to ramble.

"It's fine, no offense taken," I reassured, cutting him off and he looked up at me. "I love it," I looked back over to Raven. "Blythe...It's got a nice ring to it," I carry on smiling at her.

"What's your name?" Raven asked. Hank looked down, embarrassed.

Alex choked on his drink, "How about Bigfoot?" he sniggered.

Raven turned her head to glare at him. I shot a disapproving look at Alex, it was like he had shattered the little confidence, Hank actually had.

"Well, you know what they say about guys with big feet," Raven started, looking down to Alex's feet, I frowned in confusion. Hanks mutation was big feet? "And yours look kind of small," Raven's tone turning spiteful. I couldn't help but laugh along with the others including Alex, all except Raven and Hank, who sat in an awkward silence.

"Alex, what is your gift? What can you do?" Darwin asked, motioning to him before leaning back into the sofa.

"Uh it's not...um, I can't do it, I can't do it in here," Alex stuttered, avoiding everyone's gaze.

My own gaze softened, I found myself feeling sorry for him, "Guys," I started, looking at him in sympathy. "Let's leave him be,"

"Can you do it out there?" Darwin asked, gesturing out the window.

"Darwin!" I exclaimed, making him look abashed. But it was too late, the idea had already caught fire.

"Why don't you just do it out there?" Raven said, her eyes alight with mischief.

"Come on!"

The room erupted into cheers of Alex's name. Leaning back in my seat, I sighed heavily. This is fantastic. Soon giving into the calls, Alex stood up. They cheered, Raven laughing.

"Get down when I tell you," Alex ordered, looking deadly serious. He seemed deathly afraid of his own powers, whatever those were. We got up from our spots on the sofas and piled along the edge of the window. Alex was outside, a little to the side of us.

"Get back," he warned. We ducked back into the room, before peeking our heads out once again. He had a determined expression on his face and his arms were slightly outstretched in front of him.

"Get back!" He ordered, and they repeated their action from before, while I didn't. However, after a moment, they joined me once more. "Whatever," Alex grumbled.

Alex began to circle his hips, in a way that would make you think he knew what he was doing, as three red rings appeared. Letting go, the rings flew in different directions, one of the other beams came dangerously close to hitting Raven another one sliced through the statue, clean in half. When he did, I groaned loudly, clapping a hand to my forehead. The others clapped and cheered, impressed more likely at the destruction of the statue, more than Alex's power.

He split the thing in half! How do you even do that? Giving up, I marched back over to my seat, collapsing in it.

"Sorry Charles," I apologized in advance. "I wasn't a very good caretaker,"

"You know what this party needs?" Darwin asked rhetorically, standing up, "Alcohol," He pulled out a bottle of tequila out of the cabinet.

He was met with cheers as everyone besides me rushed to get some.

"Well," Angel began. "I think we deserve a little music," she suggested.

Rolling my eyes to myself, I rubbed the bridge of my nose. I predicted more damage. Sighing, I sat down in my spot, leaving the others to their antics.

They already caused a large amount of damage, what more could they do?

Chapter Three: Budding Relationships

#x-men fanfiction #black fanfiction #x-men fanfic #charles xavier fanfiction #charles xavier x oc #black!oc #magneto x oc #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr fanfiction #erik lehnsherr x reader #erik lehnsherr x oc #black!reader #x men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

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The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 6

(Y/n)'s POV

Once I get over the fact that my brother's Latin teacher was half horse, we have a nice tour.

We pass by the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudge each other. One points to the Minotaur horn Percy is carrying. Another says, "It's them."

Most of the campers are older than me. Their satyr friends are bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD t-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. I'm not normally shy, but the way they are staring at me and Percy makes me uncomfortable. I feel as though they want us to do a flip or something.

I look back at the farmhouse. It's bigger than I'd realized - four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort. I'm checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something catches my eyes, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I get a distinct impression that I'm being watched.

"What's up there?" I ask Chiron.

He looks to where I'm pointing and his smile fades, "Just the attic."

"Somebody lives there?" Percy asks.

"No," he says with finality. "Not a single living thing."

I get the feeling that he's being truthful, but I am also sure something had moved that curtain.

As we get closer, I realize how huge the forest is. It takes up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.

Chiron says, "The woods are stocked if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked with what?" Percy asks. "Armed with what?"

"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own swords and shields?"

"My own - ?" Percy is cut off.

"No," Chiron interupts. "I don't suppose you do. I think a size five will do for you, Percy, and a size three for you, (Y/n). I'll visit the armory later."

Finally, Chiron shows us the cabins. There are twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They are arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on each side. And they are, without a doubt the most bizarre number above the door.

Except for the fact that each has a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they lock absolutely nothing alike. Number Nine has smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number Four has tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seems to be made of solid gold, which gleams so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all face a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (which were more my speed).

In the center of the field is a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it is a warm afternoon, the hearth smolders. A girl, maybe nine years old is tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick. I wave at the girl and she looks surprised, as though no one acknowledged her often, and waves back with a smile.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, look like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin One is the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmer like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seem to streak across them. Cabin Two is more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls are covered with images of peacocks.

"Zeus and Hera?" Percy guesses.

"Correct," Chiron says.

"Their cabins look empty."

"Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two."

I stop in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

It isn't high and mighty like Cabin One, but low and solid. The outer walls are of rough gray stone studded with pieces of seashells and coral as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor. I peek inside the open doorway and Chiron says, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"

Before he can pull me back, I catch the salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the shore at Montauk. The interior walls glow like abalone. There are six empty bunks with silk sheets turned down, but there is no sign anyone had ever slept there. The place feels so sad and lonely, I am glad when Chiron puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Come along, (Y/n)."

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.

Number five was bright red—a real nasty paint job as if the color had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on Percy and gives him an evil sneer.

"Oh, look," Chiron says as we approach Cabin Eleven. "Annabeth is waiting for us."

The blond girl I'd met at the Big House is reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven. When we reach her, she looks me over critically, like she was still thinking about how much I drool.

I try to see what she was reading, but I can't make out the title. Then I realize the title isn't even English. The letters look Greek to me. I mean, literally Greek. There are pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book.

"Annabeth," Chiron says, "I have Masters' Archery class at noon. Would you take Percy and (Y/n) from here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cabin Eleven," Chiron tells us, gesturing towards the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Out of all the cabins, Eleven looks the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. the threshold is worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway is a caduceus.

Inside, it is packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags are spread all over the floor. It looks like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.

Chiron doesn't go in. The door is too low for him. But when the campers see him, they all stand and bow respectfully.

"Well, then," Chiron says. "Good luck, Percy, (Y/n). I'll see the two of you at dinner."

He gallops away towards the archery range.

Percy's POV

We stand in the doorway, looking at the kids. They aren't bowing anymore. They are staring at us, sizing us up. I know this routine. I'd gone through it at enough schools.

"Well?" Annabeth prompts. "Go on."

So naturally, I trip coming in the door, and (Y/n) grabs my upper arm, straightening me up. There are some snickers from the campers, but none of them say anything.

Annabeth announces, "Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, meet Cabin Eleven."

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asks.

I don't know what to say, but Annabeth says, "Undetermined."

Everyone groans.

A guy who is a little older than the rest comes forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy, (Y/n). You can have those two spots on the floor, right over there."

The guy was about nineteen, and he looks pretty cool. He's tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wears an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance is a thick white scar that runs from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.

"This is Luke," Annabeth says, and her voice sounds different somehow. I glance over and swear she's blushing, but after a moment she sees me looking, and her expression hardens again. "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?" (Y/n) asks, looking rather curious.

"You're undetermined," Luke explains. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

I look around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing me as if they are waiting for a chance to pick my pockets.

"How long will I be here?" I ask.

"Good question," Luke replies. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?"

The campers all laugh and (Y/n) facepalms.

"Come on," Annabeth tells us. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

"We've already seen it."

"Come on."

Annabeth grabs my wrist and drags me outside. I can hear the kids of Cabin Eleven laughing behind me and (Y/n) waves good-bye shyly.

When we are a few feet away, Annabeth says, "Jackson, you have to do better than that?"

"What?"

She rolls her eyes and mumbles under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you two were the ones."

"What's your problem?" I'm getting angry now, (Y/n) watching us cautiously. "All I know is, we kill some bull guy -"

"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth tells me. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?"

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

I shake my head. "Look, if the thing we fought is really the Minotaur, the same one in the stories . . ."

"Yes."

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So..."

"Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die."

"Oh, thanks. That clears it up."

"Percy," (Y/n) says calmly. "I think what Annabeth is saying, is that monsters eventually reform."

Annabeth nods and I think about Mrs. Dodds. "You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword—"

"The Fur...I mean, your math teacher. That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad."

"How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?"

"You talk in your sleep," Annabeth answers and (Y/n) suppresses a laugh.

"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"

Annabeth glances nervously at the ground as if she expects it to open up and swallow her. "You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones if we have to speak of them at all."

"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" I sound whiny, even to myself, but right then I don't care. "Why do we have to stay in Cabin Eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."

I point to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turns pale. "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or...your parent."

She stares at me, waiting for me to get it.

"Our mother is Sally Jackson," (Y/n) says softly. "She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."

"I'm sorry about your mom, (Y/n). But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad."

"He's dead," I say simply. "We never knew him."

Annabeth sighs. Clearly, she'd had this conversation before with other kids. "Your father's not dead."

"How can you say that? You know him?"

"No, of course not."

"Then how can you say -"

"Because I know the two of you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."

"You don't know anything about us.

"No?" She raises an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."

"How -"

"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."

I try to swallow my embarrassment. "What does that have to do with anything?"

(Y/n)'s POV

"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD—you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course, the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."

"You sound like...you went through the same thing?"

"Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."

"Ambrosia and nectar."

"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're both half-bloods."

A half-blood.

I am reeling with so many questions I don't know where to start.

Then a husky voice yells, "Well! Two newbies!"

I look over. The big girl from the ugly red cabin is sauntering towards us. She has three other girls behind her, all big and ugly and mean-looking like her, all wearing camo jackets.

"Clarisse," Annabeth sighs. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl says. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

"Erre es korakas!" Annabeth says, which I somehow understand is Greek for 'Go to the crows!' though I have a feeling it was a worse curse than it sounds. "You don't stand a chance."

"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse says, but her eye twitches. Perhaps she isn't so sure she can follow through on ht threat. She turns towards me, then she looks at Percy. "Who are these's runts?"

"Percy and (Y/n) Jackson," Annabeth says, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Aries."

Percy blinks. "Like . . . the war god?"

Clarisse sneers. "You got a problem with that?"

"No," Percy says, seemingly recovering his 'wits'. "It explains the bad smell."

Long story short, Percy made the toilets explode.

Yeah, I said it. He made the toilets explode . . .

Word Count: 2455 words

#percy jackson x sister reader #reader insert #fem reader #female reader #percy jackson and the olympians reader insert

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yukicustos · 3 years

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𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 .(Richard 'Rick' Gabrielle)

𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗼 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 .(Pinkitty)

𝗷𝗲𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗿𝘆 .(leather choker with a pendant in heart-shaped of flamingos#flambo /upper arm bracelet of two tail winding up#purri)

𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗺𝗶 .(flamingo[Flambo] & leopard[Purri])

𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗯𝗼𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗼 .(leopard print & pink 'S')

𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗺𝗶 𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗽𝗵𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗲 .(Purri, haunting time! Flambo, alight!)

𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗽𝗼𝗻 .(harpoon with a silver tail-shaped hook.anchored in the back looking like a tail and a harness that when it is crouched it's used especially for climbing with a hot pink leopard stamp. the rope is made for climbing or used to approach targets, being able to detach duplicating itself creating more rope.)

𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗽𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 .(ACCELERATION;leopard kwami power, can run very fast as the speed of light. Leopard Kung Fu;a form of martial art that Rick learned in early age. CONNECTION;flamingo power kwami, when touching someone he can enter in the space of their minds and find the 'dreams'. these dreams have power objects where motivation/will power energy are imprinted. [headcanon] after hawk moth discovers that fear is more effective to control he could have many at his possession even when the akuma left. out there are more villains and they need more people who could recover wounds and make them remember who they are, love is the other side of fear, so they can find oneself and take back their control.)

𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗲𝘀 .(rick uses a method named "corde lisse" with his rope that magically can change to him specific needs. he uses both stealthy techniques and fast attacks to get close to opponents because of the powers of the flamingo kwami he needs to get close. so he uses the innate ability of camouflage.)

insta website youtube

rick is one of the closest coworkers that helps the promotion of the newest creations of gabriel agreste and the most reliable to make those articles, photographic director to those very knowledgeable fashion magazines. his fast-paced to catch the perfect place, all things will unfold doing many tasks at once. always looking adrien with that kind of gazing waiting when this innocent boy will put the claws out. it's like a kind of animal guide relationship, a mentor, a totem.

"adrien, you has to go with me to some parties around paris. you don't know the pleasures of life! your father don't know the fun things of life. i can show you things that will enchant you in ways that you never will have a need to hide your true nature on those walls again."

"what's the matter with you? why you have such a serious face?" teasing and insinuating to take a few bites of him with growls when they're testing things in those studios room.

"rick! you know i have to act like that when my father is around." richard takes a discrete look.

"he's not even looking over here. c'mon boy, shake it off!" making a dramatic statement and adrien is rolling his eyes having fun with the situation.

after marinette made some good impressions in the fashion world, it was asked for rick to take care of she by gabriel himself to lead her to some process of getting her creations out there with other brands. and all marinette can see is a man so beautiful at his essence and detail-oriented to his work, it's an admiration, a respectful gaze while he talks with everyone at once but give all his attention one by one. the decision make is always flowing, having his attention to the creative messages he wants to pour over everything.

"you been looking around for a while. have any conclusions?"

"i would be here for centuries and never getting tired of those colors and fabrics. i can't believe i am here, it's obvious that you're at least astonishing. you make the bonds with the modern and old times, like ancient sacred knowledge that's still been used wisely in our new age."

"and that's the most wonderful compliment i ever received."

the whole thing about the two kwamis happened because now chat noir helps ladybug in choosing the right kwamis for the heroes. and the two thought the kwami that suits him was different. between purri that ladybug chooses because of his well developed senses and flambo that chat noir chooses because of his side in looking at everything with a playful approach. they thought would be too much so they decide to let richard choose.

"i have a sense that i can trust both of you." and he just touched the two kwamis at the same time. and what happened was so sweet. purri and flambo hugged saying their names to each other. purri energetic runs to hug flambo, and flambo was calm but with a caring eyes.

"oh! master, it's a honor to be with you again. my heart is full of such a warm feeling." said flambo with hands placed together.

"it's finally happening! i can stretch and make those martial movements with you again master." purri was making circles in the air.

"i think you two are mistaking me with someone else." purri and flambo looked at each other and looking to richard inclining their heads but they were still standing in their affirmation.

"it must be you." flambo was blinking eyes gently and purri just affirming it enthusiastic.

notes

so, i wanted rick to have something pink, that's one of the things i searched first and the only one that caught my attention was the flamingo. to be honest I don't know who came first but the abilities that could have something in common with the animal were really difficult to catch. but the very thing about the energies the totem flamingo gives is balance, love, playfulness, elegance, glamourous, femininity. it's everything that richard represents to me. the leopard just unfolded itself, i put in mind that the two cannot be made alone, and the thing about flamingo to be 'the lovers'. one cannot be without another, i think such a thing can happen in the miraculous universe like garnet on steven universe.

and for the leopard kwami is stealth, resilience, penetrating, precision, silence, intuition, your flow, sensuality, passion. exactly how he manages energy, it's a very yin energy with great percentage of masculine resourcefulness. it's like the very expression of his both lunar and solar mind in a perfect equilibrium, intuition/creativity and logical tactics.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #oc #original character #digital painting #kwami #haute couture #pink #artwork #artist #digital archive #miraculous oc #miracusona #art #if someone loves the universe of miraculous i made a playlist video with a atmosphere of an chloe's party #it's on youtube #miraculous ladybug oc #drawing #yukicustos

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deprecavi · 3 years

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Aether had roped Kaeya into another round of his new favorite game, though he hadn’t had to talk much to convince Kaeya to play. It was actually kind of fun, similar to a game he’d played as a child, and Aether was clearly taking great delight in arranging these mini matches. He’d chosen Wuwang Hill as the playing field this time, and while he hadn’t found Klee, he had somehow convinced Albedo to play. Kaeya followed the pair of blondes up the hill toward the small stone building nestled amid a shallow pool bisected by a rough path, noting the gloomy atmosphere in the area.

“Man, what a place for a ghost story,” he commented, watching a blue wisp of light float by. “I bet this place already had loads of stories about it with these things floating around.” He reached toward it, but it evaded him. Ahead of them, he saw the other two players, whom Aether must have arranged to meet here. The same funeral consultant he’d seen before was there, which surprised Kaeya a bit. The effort the man had put into hiding in Springvale had been so laughable that Kaeya had figured he hadn’t wanted to play in the first place.

Aether introduced the other as Yanfei, a legal consultant with an enormous tome of laws at her fingertips. Kaeya saw Albedo eyeing the book as if he wanted a closer look and suppressed a chuckle. In his experience, Albedo would read anything in his reach if he was given the chance to do so. Yanfei’s book was securely attached by a belt though, so it was unlikely Albedo would be getting a peek at it any time soon. Aether led Zhongli a bit apart from the other three, designating him as the hunter. Well, that suited Kaeya fine, he was ready for a shot at playing the rebel, and liked the notion of being on the same team as Albedo.

Kaeya glanced over at Albedo as Aether gave the signal for the rebels to move out and was surprised when the blonde essentially vanished from sight. He’d nearly forgotten that Aether had given them special camouflage tokens that would allow them to move virtually undetected for a short while. Leave it to Albedo to ensure the hunter didn’t even see which way he was setting out. Kaeya was fairly certain that Albedo was going to be good at this game, at least as far as applying a strategic approach went. He had a cool and logical mind and was good at spotting patterns.

Realizing he was still standing and staring stupidly at the spot Albedo had been standing instead of moving, essentially wasting his own head start, Kaeya shook off his momentary stupor and took off at a brisk jog. He jumped down the short rocky cliff face into the watery pool that filled a large portion of the playing field. The sound of water splashing was sure to give him away if he stuck to this level, so he quickly ran across it, hoping Zhongli’s hearing wasn’t sharp enough to discern which way he was heading. He chanced a glance back in the direction he’d come, but couldn’t see Zhongli from this angle, which hopefully meant Zhongli couldn’t see him either as he started to climb.

There was a small pavilion up on top of the hill that looked promising as a vantage point. Kaeya made his way further up the cliffside and scaled the tree next to it, though he slipped and fell out when he was halfway up, scraping his hands. With a muttered curse under his breath, he started to climb again even as he heard Aether calling for Zhongli to start the hunt. Kaeya froze, halfway up the tree again, eyes scanning the area below for a sign of the hunter to ensure he wouldn’t be spotted as he finished his climb and made the leap over to the pavilion’s roof.

The pavilion itself had a secondary tier to the roof, typical Liyue architecture, and it allowed Kaeya to crouch and keep an eye on the surrounding area without being completely exposed up on top of the hill. As he scanned the area below again, he heard Aether announcing that Albedo had been captured and he raised an eyebrow in surprise. He’d expected Albedo to be captured last, or perhaps not at all, outsmarting his competition. To be caught in such a short window of time suggested the alchemist was not bringing his full talents to bear, or perhaps he hadn’t actually wanted to play after all. It was rather odd that he’d agreed to come all the way to Liyue if he hadn’t wanted to play, though Kaeya had seen his gaze flicker past Aether to meet his own before he agreed to come.

At the very least, Kaeya supposed he could get Albedo’s opinion on this game as a potential way to entertain Klee at a later date now that the blonde had played a round, however brief. Dragging his thoughts away from his occasional babysitting charge, Kaeya noticed Zhongli had made his way up onto the hill with the pavilion while he was distracted. The man circled it, made a small noise of disapproval, and looked up at Kaeya with his arms crossed.

“I believe you called my hiding place poor, and yet you chose to neglect the disguises Aether provided,” he called up at Kaeya. Kaeya chuckled, shifting closer to the other edge of the roof in case he needed to jump down and sprint away. Zhongli circled the pavilion again and Kaeya kept the central raised circle of the roof between them. “How did you even get up there?” Zhongli asked curiously. Kaeya chuckled again.

“I hardly think that’s a secret I need to be sharing with you.” Across the field, Aether announced he was throwing in the favor. Zhongli gave Kaeya one last small frown and headed down into the watery area to go in search of the glowing green orb. Kaeya stayed where he was, appreciating the view his vantage point gave him, though he did stretch a little. Zhongli wasn’t an idiot, he would eventually realize there were other things in the area taller than the pavilion, and when he attempted to scale them Kaeya intended to run.

Zhongli used his favor to locate and capture Yanfei as Kaeya idly stretched first one leg and then the other. That was probably in Zhongli’s best interest, as he had very clearly seen Kaeya’s so-called ‘hiding spot,’ and either predicted that Kaeya wouldn’t move or hoped as much. Kaeya watched him climbing back up toward the pavilion, which he circled again, clearly trying to work out how Kaeya had managed to get past the eaves.

“I suppose using my vision is cheating,” Kaeya heard him musing to himself as he pondered the pavilion and surrounding area.

“If you use yours it’s only fair that I get to use mine,” Kaeya answered, and Zhongli looked up at him with a small smile, clearly not having realized Kaeya could hear him.

“I will not violate the guidelines Aether has set for us.” He moved to the back of the pavilion area, where a sheer cliff towered over it and started to climb. He moved quickly and Kaeya was impressed as he practically jumped up the cliff face, but Kaeya had been waiting for this. Before Zhongli could even turn to push himself off the cliff face to leap for the pavilion’s roof, Kaeya leapt from the roof himself, tucking and rolling and activating the invisibility token Aether had gifted him. He sprinted forward past a couple of crates and dove into one of them just as the token wore off.

From his new hiding place, he could see Zhongli jump down, glider wings fluttering as he veered first left, then right, then glided down into the watery area below. He was surprised Zhongli hadn’t seen him diving into the crate, but the other man hadn’t even looked in the direction he’d come, going back to the wide central area instead of onto the small ledge Kaeya currently perched on. Zhongli was surveying the area with a small frown, his gaze sweeping over the area from the ground, his sweep from the skies having given nothing away. He looked right past the trio of crates Kaeya was now occupying one of and started back up the hill on the other side when Aether called out the time limit.

Kaeya extricated himself from the box, grateful he didn’t have to stay cramped in that position for long. Aether clearly hadn’t taken people with long limbs into account when sizing his hiding place options. The barrels barely held Kaeya at all, requiring some effort to get into. The crates were slightly roomier but still required some contortion. He grinned as he approached the other three players and Aether, pleased by another win.

“Well played,” Zhongli congratulated him, offering a handshake as he approached. Albedo was nose deep in Yanfei’s book, having apparently convinced her to let him have a look while they waited on Kaeya and Zhongli’s standoff to end. Kaeya accepted the handshake and congratulated Zhongli on his two captures. “Perhaps next time we will be on the same side,” Zhongli added. Kaeya laughed, but he could tell from the look on Aether’s face that the blonde was already scheming up another round. Maybe he and Zhongli might just end up playing together again soon after all.

#windtrace #genshin impact #kaeya #zhongli #albedo #yanfei #i was so impressed by albedo going invisible right off the bat i was like oh that's so smart #and then they got caught so fast anyway lol #i did fall out of the tree twice. i was not initially going to get on the pavilion #but when kaeya fell the second time i just glided onto the pavilion roof #zhongli definitely saw me up there but didn't seem to know how i got there #it took him a while to work out how to climb up #and he did go get yanfei in the meantime lmao #or whoever player three was. i was so distracted by albedo that i didn't really register them #it might have been a eula or a diona #genshin impact writing #my writing #round two

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re-diesirae · 3 years

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9. Leon

It was getting dark, and with the fading sunlight, Leon and Claire grew more and more restless. So far, they had been lucky. All the foes that had crossed their path had been relatively weak and easy to handle. Things would not be as easy once the shadows fell over them.

Leon was worried. He noticed that Claire's movements were starting to slow down. She was growing tired. The woman would not say it, but it was pretty obvious.

"We should find refuge before the sun goes down completely," Leon said, stopping to look at Claire. "If you are correct, those monsters will come out as soon as the sun goes down."

"Uhm, you are right," Claire sighed.

"Besides, it's been a long day. We need to rest," Leon said, cleaning the sweat from his forehead. "We are both tired, and we need our strength to fight. Pushing ourselves to the limit is a stupid decision."

Claire rubbed her neck and sighed.

"You're right," she said, "The question is where?"

Leon looked at her. Claire was looking pale again, and her cerulean eyes showed what she refused to say.

Leon was not an expert at survival mode; that was probably more Chris's area, or perhaps even Claire's.

After walking around the cliff for a while, they found a small cave, hidden between some bushes. The entrance was small, which Leon thought was an advantage. It was easier to fend off enemies when they had something stopping them.

Leon made sure the cave was clear before they finally settled down inside. He picked up some branches and plants and made a makeshift door to camouflage the entrance. It would be useless to keep enemies out, but at least it would keep them concealed.

"So that's what the government teaches their agents? How to make woodland crafts?" Claire asked playfully.

Leon smirked, putting the "door" in its place.

"Sure," he answered in the same playful tone, "It's rule 4 in How to be an agent 101."

Claire laughed and rested her head against the wall, closing her eyes.

"Chris would kill us if he saw us," she whispered.

"Why?"

"Keep yourself focused. No time for jokes," Claire said in a low voice that tried to mimic Chris's grunt.

Leon laughed at the impression. It was perfect.

"Sounds about right," Leon laughed, "I can't picture Chris joking around in normal circumstances, even less in a mission."

"I keep telling him that sometimes a little humor is what you need to keep yourself going."

"Maybe he needs to learn. You should teach him."

"Uh, I doubt he will be willing to learn from me," Claire chuckled, "but Chris wasn't always like that, you know. He used to be a little more chill."

"Chill?" Leon said incredulously, "Is that even possible?"

Leon had always wondered how Chris and Claire, being siblings, could be so different and yet so alike at the same time. Claire was cheerful and charming; she always found a way to lighten the mood, and her whole personality made her an approachable person. Chris, well, Chris was just intimidating.

"You are one to talk. Each time I see you, you're grumpier than before," Claire said, resting her chin on her knees.

Leon sighed. Claire was right. After so many years of working with DSO, he had become more reserved and shut-in. Things only got worse after all the tragedies that Leon had found himself forced to witness. Then again, he was not the only one that had faced tragedies. Claire had her share of hardships, and yet, she was the same lovely woman he had met in that pit stop in Raccoon City.

"Then, maybe I should ask you to teach me, too," he snorted.

"What are you saying?" Claire said, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes, I feel like I should be more like you two."

Leon shook his head.

"You are perfect the way you are, Claire. It is enough with one Chris Redfield or me in this world. There's no need to add another one into the equation," he said, "and honestly, the world would be a better place with more people like you."

"If there were more people like me, the world would be chaos," Claire snorted bitterly,"I caused a lot of trouble because of my naiveness."

Leon looked at Claire. Her face was getting wrapped by the darkness, so he could not see her expression; however, her voice sounded mortified. Sometimes Leon forgot that Claire had her inner demons, too.

In his mind, Claire was that brave girl, filled with optimism, willpower, and a heart of gold. He sometimes forgot that she was human, too, and like any other human, she could feel doubt, fear, and grief.

"It sounds like you are too hard on yourself, Claire."

"And you, guys, are just too soft on me,"Claire sighed, "When I think back of all the things I've messed up…"

Leon was ready to say more, but a distant roar interrupted their thoughts. Leon reached for his gun, and he heard Claire do the same. The pair exchanged knowing looks and moved, quietly, towards the entrance to peek out through the makeshift door.

The forest was dark, barely lit by the dim light from the waning moon. A group of Plagas infected subjects wandered at some distance from them. None of them seemed aware of their presence, so Leon did not worry much about them, but the owner from the roar was what had him on edge.

They had a poor sight from their position, but Leon tried to scout the area the best he could.

At first, he didn't see anything, but then he felt Claire grab his arm. She was staring blankly at some rustling shrubs behind the group of Plagas.

The creature was the most horrible thing Leon had ever seen. The monster had pale skin, so pale that it almost looked like it glowed under the moonlight. The body looked stretched, and its back made a curve in a nasty deformed hump as it moved through the darkness on its black limbs. Pieces of tissue hung from its body as if it was falling apart. If the monster had eyes, Leon could not tell where they were. The face was a lump of bloodied meat with no distinguishable features aside from the largemouth filled with a row of yellow fangs.

The monster sniffed the air, and without warning, it jumped forward, snatching several Plaga infected and ate them with a roar.

That's new. I've never seen B.O.W.s eating each other.

Leon watched the gory show with a frown. The monster ate every Plaga carrier in the area, and once it had finished, it let out a roar and began to twist and contort on the ground.

"What the..." Leon whispered.

"It's mutating, I think..." Claire said from his side.

"Mutating?"

"Yes, that's how it looks."

Leon grimaced. Mutating monsters were never good news.

"Is it the one you saw yesterday?" he asked.

Claire shook her head.

"No, this one looks different."

The monster howled again, making a painful sound. The body twisted on the ground, and more pieces of tissue fell to the ground, revealing the raw muscle. By now, the creature looked like a giant licker, except for its head.

Leon was not sure of what had just witnessed, but there was something he was sure about that was not a monster he wanted to face if he could help it.

The pair watched the disfigured creature disappear into the darkness again, and both let out the breath they'd unconsciously held. Claire and Leon did not speak until they felt sure that the monster had left.

"I think I understand what you meant by bigger friends," Leon whispered, turning to the woman beside him.

Claire was calm, but Leon could see the horror hiding behind her beautiful aquamarine eyes. She gave him an ironic smile and shrugged.

"We didn't see anything like it during the day, so either we were lucky, or you are right, and they are nocturnal."

"B.O.W.s that come only during the night. Talk about nightmarish monsters..." Claire sighed, "I am just glad they didn't find us, but I've got the feeling that our luck won't be that good for too long."

"Well, we'll face it when it comes. Don't worry about it," Leon sighed.

They returned to the back of the cave and sat down quietly.

"How are you feeling?"

"Me?" she asked, surprised, "I'm peachy."

Leon looked at her skeptically.

"You can't fool me, Claire. You've been struggling since that climb we did," Leon said, "Is it your head? Is it bothering you again?"

Claire let out a vague snort and shook her head.

"I told you I didn't like hiking," she replied, "I am alright. My head bothers me a little when I am tired, but it's not bad. You should know how concussions work."

"Yeah," Leon sighed, "Try resting a little."

"I had my share of sleep yesterday," Claire said, shaking her head, "You must be exhausted, though. You didn't sleep at all. You should be the one taking a nap."

"I work better with less sleep," he half lied.

In reality, Leon knew he worked a lot better with five or six hours of sleep, perhaps even four. His senses seemed more alert under those conditions, but his body still needed the rest.

"Liar," Claire muttered. "You know you don't need to act all cool with me. Get some sleep, idiot. I'll take the first watch."

"Fine, but only if I can use your lap as a pillow," he joked, earning a soft smack on his arm.

"You are such a flirt, Leon. I guess that side of you has not changed," Claire chuckled. "Go to sleep, idiot."

"You know, I think you are the only person who dares to call me an idiot."

"Well, if I can call Chris an idiot, I can definitely call you an idiot."

Leon laughed. Claire had to be the bravest woman in the world if she dared to call the almighty Chris Redfield an idiot, but then again, Claire had a privileged position in Chris's eyes. Leon was sure that Claire was one of the few people, if not the only one, with whom Chris would never be mad at no matter what she did.

"Now, I have to argue about that. No one would dare call Chris an idiot, but you have special treatment."

"Do I get special treatment with you?"

"Maybe..." Leon smirked.

"Do you tell all your partners that?"

"Only those who I like. What? Getting bored with paperwork and considering a career as an agent?"

If Claire had been an agent like himself, he would have considered asking her to become his permanent partner. He worked well with Helena, but Claire had her charm; his mission would be a lot more enjoyable with her by his side, but Claire did not work for the DSO.

"Nah, I am not agent material. You know that, Leon?"

"What are you talking about?" he chuckled, "You were agent material even before I was. Rushing into Raccoon City in search of Chris and saving Sherry, and taking care of all of us..."

"You sure are sentimental today," Claire snorted. "What's up with you today?"

"Well, this brings back memories," Leon sighed, "Can you blame me?"

"It does?" Claire asked.

"Yeah. I think I kind of missed this."

"Sleeping in a cave surrounded by bloodthirsty parasitic entities and mutant monsters? I can't say I share the sentiment, but who am I to judge?"

Leon smirked at the comment. The darkness in the cave would not let the woman see his face, and he was somehow glad that it was like that since he was sure that he looked like a fool.

Leon leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes as tiredness began to engulf him.

"I was talking about you. I missed you, Claire," he muttered in an almost inaudible whisper.

NOTE: if you guys want to come and chat about the fic, or just about CLEON in general. Feel free to drop by the discord and say hi! JOIN SERVER

#Resident Evil #leon x claire #Cleon #leon s kennedy #leonx claire #claire redfield #my fanfiction #my fanfic writing

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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

Alliance

Chapter 8 – The Foil

(Mando x f!reader)

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Summary: Outposted on Hoth while you heal, you, Cara and Grogu keep each other company. But your nightmares quickly return, and the dark forces sending them can no longer be kept at bay.

TW: Major character death (briefly), blood, swearing

Notes: Thank u all for reason still every like makes my heart go 🥺 and every reblog/comment makes me WEEP with joy! Hope y’all are staying safe! Two chapters left!!

Word count: 4.6k

Tagged: @crazycookiecrumbles

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“What?” Din asks, noticing your face scrunch as your feet hit the ground.

“What is this?” you question, squatting down and picking up a handful of the white powder covering the planet's floor. The cold bites at your bare skin causing your hand to instinctively release.

“What never seen snow before?” he taunts, in a manner you had often used on him, as he and Cara stride ahead, each carrying bags twice the size of the average person. An impressive sight that left you feeling less than inadequate. You kicked at the snow turning around to grab a bag from the ship in an effort to demonstrate you could carry your own weight. In the meantime Grogu had managed to form the snow into a small ball which he promptly pelted towards the Mandalorian hitting him square in the helmet.

The thunk causes you to turn around in time with Din whose head was accusingly cocked towards you. You point to the kid who mirrors your movements causing him to grin underneath his helmet. He watches as you throw a bag over your shoulder, wincing in pain when you bend down to pick up the child. Anya bounds behind you, enamoured with the snow. The Mandalorian stops and begins tracing his steps back towards you.

“Here” he says reaching for the bag, any other day he wouldn't bother, he knew you could carry your own weight, hell you'd carried his literal weight before.

“If I can carry your ass, I think I can handle this bag” you roll your eyes, as the bag strap digs further into your shoulder causing you to quickly move past him. He watches you push through the snow and towards the concrete base a few feet ahead. He wished you’d let him help you. He knew you were strong; he wished you were a touch less stubborn.

“Well not the beach vacation I was hoping for, but it’ll do for now.” Cara say’s placing the sac carrying the medical supplies and food rations on a nearby table. You drop your bag the second you enter into the abandoned rebellion base. Slowly rolling your shoulder out attempting, and failing, to masquerade your pain. Din comes in behind you grabbing the bag you'd just dropped effortlessly tossing it, along with his own bag, up on the table with the med supplies.

“Looks like there's plenty of room here, enough bunks for us to have our own, amenities seem to work well enough, not sure about hot water, but at least its water.” Cara says appearing from a hallway.

“What about the camouflage? Is it still in place?” you ask as Din begins to type away into one of the dust covered computers. He grunts hitting the machine rather harshly while swearing under his breath.

“I can't tell, we need parts to fix it.”

“Should be some on the base.” Cara offers, more as a question than a statement.

“No, we need new technology to reinstate the old. I'll have to go out and get some.”

“That safe?” Cara asks

“If it's just me? Yes.”

“So I'm playing caretaker. You wanna tell her that or is that gonna be my job” she says, looking over at you as you unpack the preservatives into the kitchen area with Grogu tucked under your arm. The Mandalorian emits a low grumble. This wasn't going to go over well.

“We need food, I’m going to get some,” he states firmly, but from a safe distance.

“I'll come with you, you’re not much of a hunter” you say, placing Grogu down on the counter and brushing your hands off on your pants.

“Not hunting here, I'm going to get credits, I need to buy some parts to get the camouflage working again.”

“Alright, well I can help with that too” you say, confused as to why he was being so dismissive.

“No, you're injured,” he says, taking a cautious step towards you.

“I’m fine” you reiterate for what feels like the hundredth time since they’d saved you.

“Really?” He says rolling up your left sleeve, revealing scars still raw from the electrocutions. You push his arm away and roll your sleeve back down wincing when you graze the raw flesh. “When was the last time you slept? Really slept”

“No worse than it was before” you mumble out.

“You spent two weeks with the empire being treated like a caged animal, you need to rest.” he persuades, placing a tentative hand on your arm. The contact briefly causing you to shift away before settling into the gentle grip.

“And you’re leaving Cara here to babysit me?” you ask, eyes skirting to the side.

“ Yes. Normal circumstances you’d be fine, but you’re not in any shape to be fighting.” slightly taken aback by the honesty, but not surprised by his lack of bedside manner.

“This is crap you say.” shaking your head, if positions were swapped, sure you would be saying the same thing, but there's no way he would listen to you.

“If someone comes, you and Cara need to be here,” he states. Why he didn't just say ‘I just got you back, i'm not risking losing you again’ he doesn't know, but he’s sure it’s for the best. With no response from you he takes his leave. You watch his cape sway in the wind as he renters the ship and takes off leaving you behind once again.

“He’s infuriating.” You say to Cara who's hesitantly appeared by your side.

“Yup. But he’s also right. Common I want to see your light saber.” She says tugging on your elbow until you comply. You enter into one large open area of the base where various mismatched chairs littered the scene. You pull out the box containing the lightsaber as Cara burritos Grogu into a blanket propping him up on one of the strewn about chairs with a cushion.

“You're probably gonna want to hang back” you say, turning it on. The light purple aura shoots out vibrating softly. You move across the floor swingin it about a bit before finally closing it.

“Not bad,” Cara says, a smirk forming.

“We got anything disposable here?” you ask side eyeing her, eyebrows slightly raised.

“Ya. Want me to throw it at you?” she responds, seemingly reading your mind. You nod your head excitedly. What started as a relatively safe game of toss and slice had progressed into something slightly more dangerous. You were blindfolded, three beers deep and Cara was no longer throwing soft items at you. After another piece of food smacks you in the face you rip off the blindfold only to see Cara giggling like a schoolgirl.

“You know if I was smarter I'd say you were doing this on purpose.”

“Good thing you're not any smarter.” she laughs, waking up Grogu who immediately reaches for the saber.

“No,” Cara says, grabbing him in the knick of time. You both begin to clean up the mess you had made, well at least the half that would smell bad by the morning. What would have been a 15 minute job turned into an hour long ordeal with most of the time being spent preventing Grogu from eating the splattered food and opening up the lightsaber.

“He’s got a predisposition for danger” you say, grabbing him away from the saber for the 90th time that night.

“I wonder where he learnt that from,” Cara laughs.

The next morning you wake up from another nightmare, at least it had been of the no name variety this time, nothing quite as drastic as being suffocated in your sleep. You pull yourself up onto a barstool and lean over the counter clutching the back of your head as a plate of food enters into your eye line.

“You're chatty in your sleep” Cara says, watching as you take a bite.

“Sorry did I wake you up?” you ask scrunching up your forehead and hiding your face in your hands.

“No, don’t worry I’ve got my own demons keeping me up at night. You sleep walk as well, had to turn you around or you would have walked right out the front door.”

“Well, that's embarrassing. Thanks for stopping me from freezing to death, ill strap myself into the bed tonight” you say with a chuckle.

“So what are yours about?” she asks.

“Some weirdo in a cape” you say, taking another bite. “you?”

“The war mainly,” she says “if you ever need to talk”

“Thanks, you too” it was nice to have her in your corner.

“Sorry by the way if you know, what we did to you has caused any nightmares” it was the first time you’d seen Cara look remorseful and soft.

“Ya those stopped after a few months, around the same time the bruises did. Not sure if it was thicker skin or I just got better at fighting.” Cara nods, emitting a relieved sigh.

“Who do you think would win in a fight? Me or Mando.” she asks, stopping any further awkwardness from continuing.

“Tough call, doesn't matter though i'd beat you both.” You smirk.

‘Oh please I could drop you with my pinky finger!” She laughs waving around the frying pan she’d been cooking with.

‘I’m stronger than I look” you say pointing your fork at her with a mouthful of food.

“I know that but i'm a better fighter. At least at hand to hand combat. Though from what I've heard if I give you a spear or a bow you’d probably destroy me.”

“Games were more rigged than you think. It was largely a performance.” you admit.

“Killing the devaronian part of that?”

“No, that was a fun surprise. They like to pit fan favourites against each other. Who told you about that, or were you there?”

“No, I don't take pleasure in forced fighting. Mando told me, when I asked if you were a strong fighter. He was convinced. Also told me you saved him from drowning. How'd you do that his armour weighs as much as a ranakor.”

“Gods I honestly don’t know how, could barely move the next morning between the freezing water and unexpected heavy lifting.” you respond, shaking your head.

“How’d you survive it, cold waters a killer even if it doesn't drown you?”

“Fire, thank god his cape was fast drying or I think the hypothermia may have gotten him.”

“Just the cape that kept him warm?” She asks innocently enough

“What did he tell you?” you shoot back, your eyes telling her there was more to the story.

“I don’t know what he should have told me?” she says now increasingly interested

“Is this why you made me a delicious breakfast? To grill me? You laugh

“Oh you are not getting out of answering that question by complimenting me”

“Body heat” you mumble, quickly stuffing more food into your mouth to shut yourself up.

“So you guys have..” she starts.

“No, oh my god, I don’t even think he's allowed to. No in order to survive we had to maintain body heat. Which we did with our clothes on, there's nothing more to it”

“Well from what i've heard he's definitely allowed to, and has on multiple occasions, but if there's nothing to it.” she lifts her eyebrow.

“Survival was the only thing to it.” you stress.

“Oh im sure neither of you enjoyed being cozied up to each other”

“I’ll get the saber if you're not careful” you threaten stuffing more food in your mouth in an attempt to shut yourself up.

“Seriously, him lugging around that armour all the time, he must look pretty nice under there and I mean, you’re... you so nothing to not enjoy there.” she rambles on.

“I'm getting it” you say sliding off the stool.

“Threatening to kill me, won’t get you out of this” she hollers after you

“Oh no Cara don’t worry it's for myself. Gonna use it to burn out any remnants of this conversation.”

“I'm just sayin!” Of course she was just saying, of course he hadn't told her about that because it meant nothing. Would you mind being wrapped up in his muscular arms again no of course not, you're not blind, but your also not stupid. You know there was nothing more to it than a debt and a friendship, and that was fine. F-I-N-E, fine with you.

*************************************************

The Mandalorian walks towards the base sporting a bag holding parts he hoped would patch up the base's broken down systems. The sun had set and the white snow glowed a light blue from where the moonlight reflected down on it. The grey clouds forming above indicated that a storm was brewing and the last thing he wanted was to get caught out in a blizzard. The doors whir as they close behind him preventing any cold from seeping through. Placing the bag down on a nearby table he pulls out some food and warmer clothes he'd grabbed while he was out. He walks over to the kids room cracking the door and peering in. The sound wakes Grogu causing him to start fussing only stopping when he's picked up. Din follows the trail of inanimate objects sliced and strewn across the floor until he sees Cara whose on the couch carving a wooden stick into a point.

“Welcome back” she says, not looking up from her project.

“Got the stuff, he wasn’t too much trouble?” he asks, referring to the kid and tossing her a blanket.

“Nope” she smiles, catching the quilt and wrapping it around herself.

“You two have fun?” he asks, directing her attention to the various metals that she had meant to clean up before he got home.

“You know we should really get lightsabers, it's not fair only Jedis can have them. She's something else, I can see why you enjoy her company so much” Cara says, hoping to provoke a reaction.

“What's that supposed to mean?” he spits out.

“Well it wasn’t supposed to mean anything but, I guess it's more than her company you'd like to enjoy? I heard about the cave, interesting the details you left out” She says, eyes glancing up at him as a smile spreads across her face. He's about to respond, but the distinct sound of doors opening brings about a silent truce as they shift into action mode, blasters in hand maneuvering quietly towards the door. Noticing a figure, Din takes aim, but Caras hand stays his shot.

“What’s she doing?” he asks, reholstering the blaster and moving towards you

“Sleepwalking.” Cara responds “she didn’t do this when you were around?” he shakes his head, he knew about the nightmares but this, this was an escalation he didn't see coming.

“We should wake her up, she’s going to freeze” he says

“You’re not supposed to wake them up,” Cara returns

“So we just let her wander out and die?” Din argues

“No we just turn her back in the direction of her room smart ass.'' The argument ceases when they remember the door being opened. You had managed to make your way out into the blizzard concerning both Din and Cara. He hands Grogu to Cara and trudges through the thick snow, which you were moving through with ease. Cara, not one to be left behind, follows him out sheltering the kid under the quilted blanket.

“Someones with her.” Cara shouts over the wind. She's right; he watches as you reach out for the cloaked figure turning it around to face you.

“Y/N!” the Mandalorian calls out.

*************************************************

Your name being called pulls you back to reality. You look down seeing Anya whose ears are back and emitting a sound the likes of which you’ve never heard. Your name’s called again further indicating this was not a dream, despite the surroundings feeling uncannily familiar. The figure stands before you, unmoving, still present, what the fuck was going on. Your heart races as you reach out this time your hand makes contact with a bony shoulder. Your eyes widen as you turn the figure around to face you. Your eyes flutter side to side trying to piece together the situation playing out before you. You hear the Mandalorian shouting for you, but you don't turn away.

Your hand reaches up to pull down the hood as you do a familiar buzzing fills your ears as a scarlet flash lights up the sky. A burning sensation radiating in your stomach causes you to look down just as the saber retracts back into its hilt, the red light dissipating as it does. Your hand grasps at the cloak tearing a piece off as the figure disappears into the night. You fall to the ground, it's cold, you can feel your light fading, it wasn’t supposed to end like this.

************************************************

Din makes it to you first, dropping to your side. He places a hand under your waist lifting you onto his lap scanning your body for the damage. Your hands cover your abdomen. He moves them away revealing a substantial hole where the saber had cut straight through you. There was no blood, there was no fixing this, there was nothing he could do. Too many vital organs had been hit. He watches as you try and fail to intake the surrounding air into your lungs. He can see the panic in your eyes as you try and fail to breathe. Cara’s run comes to a halt. She stares down at the Mandalorian as he cradles a body that would never heal. You’re trying to say something, but all that’s emitted is a series of bloody splutters as you cling desperately to life. You look at Cara and the child before looking back up at him. Your purple eyes bore into him as your body goes limp. Anya throws her head back howling loudly into the night as Cara continues staring down stoic as even, placing a hand on the beskar armour. The Mandalorian doesn't move, he can’t, he won’t let you go. Why didn't he say anything, why couldn't he offer you some comfort in your final moments. He had failed you. As the howl fades back into the wind the silence becomes deafening.

Cara sees them first, Dins hand moves to your chest where small palpitations seemed to be occurring. His head swivels around staring up to see Grogu’s small green hand reached out, head wrinkled and eyes squinting in focus. As quickly as it had stopped your breathing begins again punctuated by a loud cough and several gasps for air which launch you upwards. The Mandalorians arm braces your shoulder as you do. He pulls up the hem of your shirt running a hand over skin that was beginning to smooth over. Grogu collapses back into Caras arms. Din breaths out for the first time in what felt like forever, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat back down. Your hands found their way up to his helmet tracing around its edges in an attempt to ground yourself.

“It’s okay, I’m here, you’re alive, you’re safe.” he whispers, as he brings his helmet down to your forehead pressing them together lightly. Your arms quickly wrap around him as you bury your face in his chest. The metal suddenly feeling like the most comfortable thing in the world.

“Makers get a room” Cara shouts. He hears you mutter something which he eventually makes out as “the child”

“He’s fine,” he says, watching the relief rush over your face as your arm reaches out to pet Anya before your eyes start close again.

“We have to get her inside, and warm, she’ll be fine, but we have to move quickly.” Cara says as Din lifts you up carrying you back inside.

The following days blur together for Din he left shortly after you were secured back in bed in search of supplies and medicine that would help ease your recovery. In all truth it helped keep his mind off the fact that you may not wake up. Despite Grogu’s best efforts you had been dead for a solid five minutes, that's not something many people recover from. He took up a few extra bounties along the way hoping they may have some answers as to who was with you in the blizzard that night, but nothing turned up. The killing helped him feel better, and coming back with supplies made him feel useful. No matter where he was, he always made sure to return with blankets and warm gear, especially after Cara had said you felt cold to the touch. He couldn't have that.

“I think we’re good for blankets, Mando anymore and she’ll sweat to death” Cara says with a small laugh unpacking yet another massive sheet made from some type of animal hide.

“You said she needed to be kept warm” he states, as if his actions were completely normal and reasonable.

“Well why don’t you just crawl in there with her that'll keep her nice and toasty” she teases “or you could just wait until she wakes up then you’d be able to keep her really warm, at least based on what I’ve heard from some of your past lovers” she laughs, as he leaves the room embarrassed.

*************************************************

Your mouths dry, that’s the first thing that alerts you to the fact that you were still alive. You open your eyes slowly permitting the fluorescent lighting to creep through causing a dull ache to pulse in your forehead. Closing one eye you move up in the bed causing multiple blankets to cascade down from your shoulders pooling in your lap. You turn to the side reaching for the glass of water precariously placed on your bedside table. A sharp pain shoots through your body as you reach out causing your hands to jolt down to the source of the pain. The scar tissue reminds you just how lucky you were to be alive. Your hands positioning is quickly changed as Anya nuzzles her snout underneath it. You scratch her ears, smiling as she licks at your face. You're distracted by the sound of footsteps inching closer to your door. You sit up and straighten your shirt, suddenly aware of how you must look and smell. Your fussing with your hair as the door clicks open.

“You're up!” Cara exclaims “wait here there’s someone who’ll want to see you. “

“Like I can go anywhere” you respond, shifting slightly as you do. She re-enters with Grogu who she places in your arms. He stares up at you with his big eyes, his hand reaching out for your chin. You lower your head so he can touch it eliciting a small contented gurgle.

“Thanks for saving me,” you say, as he worms his way underneath the blankets.

“Mando’s off getting supplies, mainly bringing back blankets for you though” Cara remarks causing you to roll your eyes.

“Five bounties so I’ve been out what? a day?” you ask shuffling through the thick fur covers which were, to be fair, keeping you nice and toasty.

“How are you feeling”

“Like a shish kebab”

“You looked like one. Do you remember anything about that night?”

“What apart from dying? I remember taking this” you say pulling out the small swatch of fabric you had torn from the figures cloak. “Nothing after that. I figured the only way this hole was closed was because of Grogu. Did something else happen?” Cara contemplates telling you about the tender moment she had witnessed between you and the Mandalorian, but opts to let him tell you himself.

“No, nothing. Get some more rest, you look like shit.” she laughs leaving the room allowing you to fall asleep with Grogu tucked neatly under your arm.

“Fuck” you shout, shooting awake. Your eyes water and your chest heaves. Another nightmare. Whoever this figure was, it knew it had not succeeded in killing you. Whatever it was you, and your friends, would not be safe until they, or you, were dead. You maneuver out of bed, careful not to wake the child as you do. Your feet hit the floor with a light slap, the sound being enough to rouse Grogu from his slumber. He blinks sleepily watching as you grab some clothes, a blanket and the ripped fabric tossing it all into a small leather bag. You whistle for Anya who begrudgingly hops off the bed and makes her way over to you. The child, now awake and apparently savvy to your plans scowls.

“I know, but we’ll be back once it’s dealt with” you say leaning over the bed to stroke his ear.

“Once what’s dealt with?” the familiar modulated voice asks behind you. “You’re leaving.” he continues, noting the rucksack tossed carelessly over one shoulder.

“Just for now.” You say, offering him a reassuring smile as you turn to face him, “I have to deal with something.”

“We can help.” He responds. You turn back to face the wall, not wanting to meet his gaze.

“Not this time I can’t put the kid at risk. It’s too dangerous. Whatever came here, it’ll come back once it feels I'm alive. I’m going to find it. See what it wants.” you unpack and repack your bag making sure everything you need is there.

“How do you know this isn’t what it wants you to do.” he poses, causing your hands to stop shuffling around inside the bag.

“I don’t.”

“And how do you think you’re getting off this planet.” he asks, a touch too smug for your liking. Especially considering you had not figured that part out yet.

“Gotta be some spare parts around here, maybe even an old ship.”

“Can you even fly?” Was that worry you detected in his voice, or amusement at the notion of you piloting a spacecraft.

“I'll be fine.” You say closing your bag.

“Let me help you.” he takes a step towards you, closing the space between you both.

“I’ll be alright” you say, turning and haphazardly throwing the bag over your shoulder. He steps in front of you, not willing to let you pass without a conversation. Not wanting to put him in danger you stand on your tiptoes and place your hands on the helmets sides, causing him tense up. You pull his face down to meet yours planting a kiss where his mouth would be.

“You’ve helped me enough” you say staring into the visor and slowly removing your hands. He remains where he stands, giving you enough time to skirt around him. Entering the kitchen you grab some preserves and a knife out the cupboards tossing them into the bag.

“Tell her she’s not leaving,” Din asserts to Cara, who had witnessed the previous events from a nearby chair.

“You can’t go by yourself, you’re smart enough to know that. Let us help.” She says. Realizing this isn’t a fight you can easily win you agree.

“Someone has to stay here with the kid. He won’t be safe where we're going. Din you should stay with him ” you say.

“I can’t fly a plane.” Cara lies in an attempt to force you both to confront your feelings for eachother, though she wasn’t entirely sure either of you knew how deep said feelings truly ran.

“I’ll take you.” Din says without hesitation

“I know you don’t like to be away from him.” you whisper quietly, your actions from before suddenly creeping to the forefront of your mind.

“We won’t be gone long” he says, evidently unfazed by the kiss. “You know where we’re going.

“No, but she does.” You nod in Anya’s direction.

#the mandalorian #mando x you #mando x y/n #the mandolorian x reader #mando x reader #din dijarin x reader #din x y/n #din djarin x reader #din x reader #din dijarin #din djarin x you #star wars #mandalorian fanfic #alliance #chapter 8

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philicheesecake · 3 years

Text

To Hunt or to be Hunted (U.L.)

Synopsis: Warren goes on his first mission for the Unseen Legion after his initiation, and it doesn't go quite as planned. Eli the giant doesn't have Warren off of his sights just yet. Takes place before An Unorthodox Lecture. Warnings: Language warnings, M/M, g/t halfsize, nonfatal unwilling vore

---

Eli hated having to keep ahead of the hunting rotation with all the added stress of the possibility of falling behind. After a big setback, he had no choice but to lay low for a few weeks in order for all the other giants to pass before following the course on his own.

It was a bit of a problem when it was here in the mountains, where the larger species of giants served as a big threat that he had to avoid. Regardless, he managed to survive the next few weeks by laying low.

Week three after the incident, he picked up a faint scent on the wind within one of the mountain forests that seemed familiar, but upon following it, he found it led to a dead end. It belonged to a human. And that human better not be meddling with the wrong stuff here.

This provoked some thoughts of concern from the giant, and curiosity got the better of him.

He readopted his smaller camouflaged form and paid the old alchemist shop a little visit. Of course he was met once again with a shotgun held to his throat, and the alchemist didn’t seem too happy that he had been cured of the curse from last time they met. She was at least somewhat impressed that Eli hadn’t killed her Hunter friend. Upon asking her a few questions, Eli gathered all of the information he needed. And he was pretty pissed about what he found.

***

It had been three weeks since the first mission of the U.L. gone wrong. The time that had almost cost Warren his life getting wrapped up in the affairs of ravenous, savage giants. Warren has only narrowly escaped with his life due to the help of an unexpected ally. Even then the memory still gave him nightmares.

The way he had believed to have been betrayed as the terrifying fanged maw opened up before him, hungry, and awaiting to devour him whole. Even if he had been safe then, it didn’t alter the fear and terror of the memories.

The Unseen Legion had assigned him the mission to kill one monster in order to be allowed to join their ranks. Warren had stupidly chosen to kill a giant and failed at that task. Normally, this would make him instantly denied entry into the Legion, but his rare experience of the Banding ceremony and surviving it had served as a valuable source of knowledge they couldn’t waste. Before he knew it, he was an initiated member, and he hadn’t even killed anything yet.

Now for the moment of truth, they wanted him to kill a werewolf. Simple enough. It wasn’t anything as massive or powerful as a giant. This one should be easier, right? All he had to do was avoid getting bitten and use his silver knife, or silver bullets to deliver a fatal blow to the heart. No worries about getting eaten alive or any of that. He was sure he had some sort of PTSD from what happened with Eli and didn’t want anything like that to happen again.

He had searched for hours past midnight as he tried to follow what little he knew about tracking in order to locate the beast. The moon was high above the blackened dome, splaying it’s fragmented rays through the branches of the trees, glistening across the forest floor like glistening shards of glass that provided a hazy illumination. It only furthered the distortion of the shadows of the forest where the parts of the moonlight didn’t reach.

Warren’s lone silver ray from his flashlight beamed through the darkened forest to provide a small path of light like a tunnel through the walls of blackness. He had found his first paw print, but it was hard to determine whether it was fresh or days old. The U.L. Archivists had been tracking the hunting patterns of this particular wolf for a while now and we’re quite certain that it would be nearby. It seemed that they were right, but one could begin to only look at so many paw prints before hope of finding the real beast would begin to dwindle.

Suddenly a howl broke through the night. It was low and long, and split the chilled air that froze his breath. Warren paused, tensing in place for a moment. The nerves of the situation were beginning to settle in. There was a powerful mythical beast out there, and he was supposed to kill it. He drew out his pistol shakily, but stabilized it over his flashlight-wielding hand.

He turned a few times, trying to locate the source of the sound. For a moment, there was an eerie stillness in the forest. The shadows of the trees didn’t falter as their gnarled limbs caged him in bars of darkness that split the moonlight. There. Off in the distance, he could have sworn he saw a slight movement in the underbrush. But as soon as his flashlight shone towards it, it was gone.

A pause.

Each passing millisecond mounted the scene with more apprehension. Warren bated his breath, not daring to move just yet.

CRASH!!!

There was a sudden burst of motion that dove through the trees and pounded onto the foliage with a swift motion. It towered above Warren, easily twice his size. It was a mere shadow at this point. But then Warren saw the eyes. A glistening golden color that reflected off of the light animalistically. The eyes leered down at him for a split second before they were gone again.

Warren’s heart raced and he stumbled backwards, tripping over a tree root that protruded from the soil. He scampered backwards, fumbling as he tried to grab his flashlight again.

A giant.

What was a giant doing here?!

Warren had made sure to double check and triple check that the U.L. Was certain that their rotation had already passed before he could do his first mission. How had one slipped under their radar?

Warren lifted his pistol, still scooting on his back away from where he had seen it. The flurry of movement continued. There were growls and a sudden high yelp like an injured dog split the air. Something whooshed by as a large object was hurled into the air and crashed into the underbrush, just inches from where Warren lay. Warren flashed his light to the side, gasping. The werewolf lay there with matted grayish brown fur with long narrow lashes that had sliced it open. It wasn’t moving, but blood still flowed from the wounds.

Warren was shaking. He shined the flashlight back at where the giant was. His heart stopped. It wasn’t there. His breaths rasped in his throat faster and uneasily. Even in the cold, his palms were sweaty from fear, making it more difficult to grip the pistol properly.

There was another burst of movement. A large shadow swept over him with a flash of reflective eyes.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three shots were fired from the pistol, before the wind was knocked out of him. He was pinned to the ground. A massive hand bore down over his chest. Golden eyes glinted down at him like an animal's. Warren’s heart pounded in his ears and it took him a minute to react. He tried to aim the pistol back at the giant, but it was quickly twisted from his grasp. A low chuckle sounded, almost like a growl.

“Thought ya could be a big scary Hunter, now did ya, Kiddo?”

Warren froze, still shivering. That voice. “...Eli?”

The giant snorted. His face was still not visible through the shadows, and for a moment, Warren feared that he had guessed the wrong giant.

“Do ya really think that knowing my name will spare your life in the field?” The voice came back in a mocking chuckle, only confirming Warren’s assumption. “I know what ya did with the Unseen Legion. And you’ll never survive.”

Warren’s eyes narrowed. He brought up his hands to try to pry off the giant’s grip, but it remained firm and unyielding. “I— I have it under control! If you just let me kill that wolf—“

A cruel laugh broke out. Though he couldn’t see the creature’s face through the shadow, he could see its form quake with laughter. “Hunting is never that easy, Tiny. It could have been any other giant just now that jumped ya, and right about now, you’d be somewhere in their gut.” The giant leaned closer, his chuckles still heard as his warm breath wafted over Warren’s face.

Warren shuddered. “I’m trying, okay! Just give me a chance!”

The giant paused for a moment, a growling hum came from his throat in thought. And then the grip around Warren was released.

“Alright, Hunter. If you really think you can be part of the Legion, try to survive. Either beat me, or escape. I’ll even be nice and give you a head start. But if you fail, you suffer the consequences of what a real bad giant would do.”

Warren took in a nervous gasp, trying to scoot to his feet. “W-wait— no— you can’t possibly be thinking of eating me again!”

“Well, I did promise that the last time we met, ya know. That would be kinda embarrassing if I just… didn’t. Also, I can never pass up a tasty little snack.” Eli rolled his eyes, getting to his feet.

The giant lifted the little pistol and slid it onto safety before pocketing it. Standing, he was more in view with the pale moonlight that illuminated his features in pieces cut off from the shadows of the branches. His eyes were framed by dark stripes, not unlike the eye markings of a cheetah. His hair was dark and spiky. His fingers were tipped with long, sharp claws. Standing at his full height, he was 13’3, easily over twice the height of the small human hunter.

Warren finally managed to get to his feet, cringing at Eli’s words. “But—“

“Aaaand there goes your head start and you just wasted it.” Eli feigned a yawn.

Warren tensed, not waiting another moment to dash away in alarm. He pushed through the thick underbrush, weaving through the trees on the uneven trail. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, and his breaths froze against the moonlight in puffs of silver mist.

It was almost impossible to navigate in the darkened forest, and outrunning a giant that had evolved for terrains such as this, capable of sprinting at sixty miles per hour, made home seem slim. But Warren didn’t want to endure going through that again. Some part of him believed that with just a small stroke of luck, he might escape this.

He glanced over his shoulder for a moment to try to locate how close behind the giant was, only to find out, he wasn’t there. Where there had once been a towering creature, there was nothing at all. Nothing chasing him.

Giants were ambush predators.

Warren took in a shaky gasp, immediately feeling ten times more hyper aware of his surroundings. He looked ahead and ran faster—

THUMP—

A tree trunk slammed into his face. He should have been looking forward while he ran. He must have regained his bearings too slow. With a hand bracing him against the tree to try to stabilize himself to run again, he suddenly felt something warm wrap around his leg and jerk him backwards. Warren let out a yelp, quickly reaching out to try to hug the tree in order to resist being pulled backwards, but it was helpless since the grip around his leg was much stronger. He was dragged onto the floor, face mingling with the gross dirt and underbrush.

He flailed helplessly, trying to grab onto something. He reoriented himself, twisting in the grip to be positioned on his back, only to let him have a clearer view at the gigantic creature looming over him. The giant was on one knee, stooping over the small human, only really needing one hand to restrain him. Even crouched down, he was taller than a man was standing. His face was close, allowing a clear view of the glinting fangs as he drew back his lips in a hungry sneer.

“Really? That was pretty pathetic. I was going easy on ya, but you were beat by a tree. Pfft.” Eli’s voice came in a mocking chuckle.

Warren winced, panting with his heart still racing in his ears. “Eli… please don’t…”

“This ain’t anything new to a Hunter, ya know. Your defeat could be a whole lot worse. Once ya join the Legion, ya won’t last long. Not more than two missions I bet.”

The giant drew closer until his warm breaths could be felt on Warren’s face. From this close position, Warren could hear the giant’s stomach gurgle nearby in anticipation.

“Aww, sounds like someone misses you,” The giant chuckled teasingly.

The hunter grimaced, his breaths growing more rapid through his nose as he tried to hide his fear without much luck. He tried to pry the hand off of his leg, but his arms were soon gripped between Eli’s fingers and he was lifted off the ground, dangling before the giant’s face.

“W-wait— Eli I swear to god—.” He let out a yelp as his shoes were suddenly yanked off and he was held higher to dangle above the maw of the giant. “—Hey!”

“I don’t like eating shoes.” Eli said with a shrug.

“Well I don’t like being eaten!!” Warren retorted with a shudder. “Wh— WAIT—!”

The giant was clearly getting impatient. He pocketed the shoes and lowered Warren’s feet towards his mouth. Warren gasped, kicking and struggling in the giant’s grip. Another hand reached up to steady his feet, guiding them towards the giant’s hungry maw. His mouth chomped lightly around his socked feet and ankles, bringing them within the warm confines. Though he didn’t bite down, the pricks of fangs barred them in warningly, making it too dangerous to struggle.

Warren’s eyes widened, and he grimaced as he could feel the slimy tongue begin to soak his socks and feet as they were brought inside. A murr sounded as he could feel the tongue move beneath him, pushing his feet towards the palate as they were tasted, brought in deeper. A little more of his shins were brought into the mouth as his feet were pressed by the tongue and funneled towards the entrance of the throat.

Warren tensed up, jerking his legs as he could both feel and hear the first swallow. His feet were firmly squished against the palate and tugged into the tight, warm throat where he could already feel the slick muscles gripping at his feet to hold him in place. Warren panted, quickly changing his trajectory from trying to break loose from the grip, to clinging onto Eli’s hand to try to slow his descent. The hand only lowered Warren further into the giant’s maw as Eli began to swallow more rhythmically, making his way up to the thighs.

Warren was fighting at this point, terrified as he saw more of himself disappearing down the tight throat. He could see the bulge he made in the giant’s neck, moving slightly in-tuned with his struggles. He was practically sitting on the tongue now, and the throat had gripped him tightly enough to make it near impossible to try to pull himself out. Saliva soaked through his pants as the slick muscles gripped and massaged at him.

Eli’s hand began to let go of his arms, repositioning to brace him behind his back as he pushed Warren towards the throat. Greedy, pleased murrs sounded in his throat in a low growl as more of Warren’s form was accepted into his possession. Warren was shaking, forgetting in the moment that Eli probably wouldn’t hurt him. This only took him back to the dreadful memories from where he was swallowed the first two times. The encompassing terror that had encapsulated him then.

GLK—

There was a disgusting slick sound as the throat gripped him, dragging his hips into the tight folds. Warren panted, gritting his teeth in desperation as he tried to grip the hand that held him, trying to do almost a pull-up to hopefully pull himself free, or pause the giant’s efforts. Only for a mere moment it seemed to be working. Empty swallows rippled at his form, though he wouldn’t budge. There was a glimmer of hope. He was stuck! The way the muscles twitched against him uselessly was still disgusting, but at least he wasn’t going any deeper!

There was a choked, gagging sound coming from the giant’s throat as he struggled with Warren’s resistance. It only lasted for a moment longer before the hand let go and Eli jerked his head backwards. Instantly, gravity shifted, allowing Warren to begin to slide deeper again. He was now up to his chest in the fang-lined maw. With his hands free, he tried to push against Eli’s jaws to try to immobilize him, locking his arms in a stiff position to not get down further. From working up his appetite this whole time, his jaws were dripping with slick saliva, making it gross to contact it when Warren’s hands were there. He was now uncomfortably close to Eli’s face. The giant’s eyes were shut. An expression of enjoyment and pleasure played over his face. He seemed unphased by Warren’s attempts. Almost even indifferent to them.

Warren shuddered, tensing as he felt another swallow tug at him. It was a battle maintaining his ground by gripping Eli’s jaw to hold him in place. He only sunk in another millimeter. His second attempt seemed to be working better than the first. The only issue was how far he was in right now. Only a couple more swallows, and he was done-for. If he slipped, if Eli managed to remove his grip, he would be easily gone. Most of his body was now soaked to the bone in encompassing heat and slime as he was constricted and tugged at within the claustrophobic confines of the throat.

“Eli— stop— p-please don’t do this.” Warren’s protest came out in a breathless stammer.

The giant didn’t make any response, but lifted up his hands to pry the human’s little ones off of his jaw. “No—- NO—!” Warren pleaded.

GLK—

His chest was pulled into the throat and his head and shoulders were now within the giant’s slimy maw. He panted, trying to reach his arms above him to grab something— anything that would help him, but to no use. He winced as he could feel the fangs so close to pricking his arms. Fearfully, he looked down.

Through the dim moonlight, he could see the back of the mouth where the tongue had pinned and guided his torso into the more cramped area. The giant was heavily salivating at his taste, and out of instinct in order to slick down his meal enough to make him slide down with ease. Slick slime dripped from the roof of the mouth. Threads of saliva connected to his form, following his torso into the throat. He felt the tongue rise up beneath him, pinning him uncomfortably to the palate as it pushed more of him into the throat. His shoulders were now crushed into the tight space.

The muscle raised up to the roof of the mouth once more, squishing Warren’s face against the slimy palette. He squeezed his eyes shut to avoid getting slime in his eyes. Any hope of escaping was pretty much gone now. This was it.

Another loud gulp sounded around him as the throat gripped him, pulling him inside deeper. His face was now squeezed inside the tight muscular tube. He could feel his socked feet begin to press against a tight area before entering a more open space. He shuddered, feeling the swallows become more rhythmic now as they dragged him in deeper. More of his legs followed into the opening. He was only in up to his shins before his feet pressed against the opposite wall, but the stomach easily stretched to accommodate him as more slid in.

Warren’s chest was tight and he couldn’t breathe in the suffocating confines of the passage. He was completely at the mercy of the larger creature, as unsettling as it was. His hips and torso soon passed through the opening as well. His legs bent in order to fit properly into the small space, but he didn’t stop kicking. His struggles were easily viewed from outside as the giant watched in amusement. A growling hum was heard around him as his hands were finally squished into the tight throat and the giant enjoyed the sensations from the little struggles.

The rest of the little human finally slid inside, curling up in the tight, squishy environment. He immediately gasped for air, coughing a few times to get used to the thick, humid air that burned his lungs at first from the sheer temperature before he gradually got used to it. He could hear the giant take in deep breaths around him as well, as his airway cleared. He felt a firm pressure against his back and he scowled through grit teeth, aiming an angry kick at the walls.

“Y-you f-frickin’ monster.” Warren growled.

“Hm?” The giant’s voice responded around him casually. “Oh wait-- were ya insulting me or addressing me?”

Warren frowned bitterly, curling up tighter, knowing his struggles couldn’t get him anywhere anyways. The environment was hot and slick and gross, and he hated how the walls seemed to have a mind of their own as the involuntary peristalsis continually massaged at him. He could recall how quickly the sheer heat had sapped him of energy before, and didn’t like being weakened like this, despite already feeling the beginnings of it draining his energy.

At the lack of response, the giant chuckled, rubbing at the small form in his gut. He got to his feet, walking along through the forest. He quickly found Warren’s flashlight that he had dropped and scooped it up, putting it in his pocket.

Warren’s heart was still racing from the bad scare, but was beginning to slow down a bit as he tried to disconnect himself from the fact that he had just been eaten. He knew Eli wouldn’t kill him, so at least there was that small reassurance. He still hated this place no less, however.

“Hey kiddo?”

Warren grimaced as he felt a jab on his back as the giant poked at him. “What.” the hunter’s voice didn’t sound too happy.

“How do ya feel about bein’ one of those lousy Hunters now? I’m tryina show ya that… It won’t work out. You’re just gonna end up getting killed. Ya know how easy it is to eat you?”

Warren shivered. He pulled his arms up around his legs, tucking his head close. It was like he was trying to appear even smaller. “I don’t want to know.” He returned in a low voice. He sighed. “Monsters are just… stronger. But I can do something to stop them. I just need to try harder.”

Eli let out a blunt laugh. “Do ya really wanna know how many people I’ve heard say that? And how they ended up?”

Warren didn’t respond. He grimaced as the stomach muscles churned slightly around him, holding him in place. He heard gurgles come from nearby. Just the silence accompanied by the slick, churning sounds of the giant’s insides were enough of an answer to Eli’s question.

Eli groaned, continuing to walk through the forest as he navigated the route with Warren’s scent on it.

“You’re being awfully quiet tonight. Where’s that fighting vigor?” Eli was clearly growing impatient, as he tended to enjoy feeling his victim’s struggles within him. Warren’s lack of a fight was just annoying to him.

Warren sighed. “What’s the point? I’m not going to be able to get out of here until you let me anyways.”

Eli rolled his eyes. “Well you aren’t fun. Do ya even know why I’m doin’ this? I told you last time we met that ya have to take care of your sisters. What a good lot of takin’ care of I’m seein’ right now. Throwing your life away to fight monsters that you’re never gonna beat? Really? What do ya think they’re gonna do when you disappear one day and never return? Do ya even know how that’ll affect them?”

The giant’s voice raised to a booming volume around him, shaking the walls of the human’s fleshy prison. Warren winced. “W-why do you care?” The Hunter retorted.

“I DON’T. I couldn’t care less about ya pathetic little humans. The only reason why I’ve never killed ya has nothing to do with mercy. Don’t for a second think you’re too special to kill. I just don’t want some other giant or monster to go off wastin’ a meal that I spared. That’s lame.”

Warren was silent for a moment. Something about the giant’s words didn’t add up. There was still some curiosity on why Eli ever started sparing the lives of humans, but he knew how Eli resisted explaining last time and didn’t want to cause any triggers that could endanger him.

“I’m still going to hunt monsters.” Warren said quietly, afraid of Eli’s response.

“Then what’s the point in keepin’ ya alive now? Maybe I should just digest ya and get your death over with, since you’ll be getting killed on the job soon anyways.”

“N-- DON’T--!” Warren tensed up, flinching as he felt the stomach clench around him again, accompanied by gross gurgling sounds. He struggled in place, trying to reorient himself in the darkness. He was now sort of lying on his back, in a good enough position to spring a strong kick upwards where he assumed the lungs to be. “I s-swear Eli--”

Eli hiccupped as the kick came in contact with his lungs, actually hurting a bit. He pressed a hand against his stomach to immobilize his prey. Warren panted in the hot, close confines, finding it hard to breathe while stuck in this new position.

“What’s the point in letting you go, hm?”

Warren shuddered, pressing his elbows out to try to free enough room for him to breathe. He panted for a moment to try to catch his breath. Despite being covered in slime, he was oddly sweating in the sweltering environment. It was exhausting to fight against the walls to struggle for breath.

“Be-- because…” He paused between breaths for a moment, thinking desperately. “L-look, just now you were-- were offering me a chance of practice to fight or sur-- survive being attacked by a giant--”

“And you failed.” Eli quipped with an amused snort.

“I know-- I know-- but-- what if I kept trying-- you know-- you know a lot more about monsters than me. I could learn more about how to fight them properly, and how to survive. You hate the other giants, right? What if I was able to help?”

It was a strain to even gather breath at this point. He knew he couldn’t keep this up long, and his struggles only seemed to bring further enjoyment to his captor instead of persuading him to release him.

Eli raised a brow, lightening his grip slightly. He paused in his strides in the forest, one hand going to scratch the back of his neck in thought and the other to rub at the form of the little human in his gut, just thankfully with less force this time.

“You mean, like train you?”

Warren squirmed slightly, not enjoying the rubs against his side and feeling disgusted that the giant would gloat over him like a filling meal instead of a person.

“Y-yes.”

There was a rumbling hum around him, as if in thought. Then a chuckle.

There was no response for a while, and Warren laid there in the draining heat, already beginning to feel his strength leave him as the fatigue settled in.

After a while of movement (assumedly Eli walking), the stomach grew tighter, crushing around Warren’s form. Warren struggled at first fighting back and panting before his head was sucked back into the throat from the sheer pressure and he was brought upward. He was being released!

The convulsing muscles tugged him along, feeling even tighter than before, almost to the point of crushing his very bones. There were slick gagging sounds as light poured in and his head pressed back through the mouth. The scruff of his shirt was roughly grabbed and he was pulled the rest of the way out with disgusting slick sounds. Saliva trailed from his form, connecting to the giant’s mouth.

Warren gasped for air as soon as he was freed, shivering violently as he was re-exposed to the bitter chill of the air. After being in the scalding stomach for a while, the sudden change of temperature shocked his body. He continued to gasp, wiping his face and blinked his eyes open to look at the giant. He grimaced as he saw the threatening face so close. Eli was smirking down at him and raised a hand to wipe the slime off of his jaws.

“Well that knocked some reason into ya… hopefully.” The giant huffed. He lowered the little Hunter onto the ground. They were now near the side of the road where Warren had parked his car. “Also, word of advice; don’t ever park your car on the side of the road where you’re doin’ a hunt. The monsters can trace your scent right back to it and know which cars to watch out for, or even deduct where you life off of that… So yeah. Bad idea.”

Warren wobbled unsteadily as he got to his feet again, craning his neck up to look at the massive giant above him as he spoke. He just nodded stiffly, still shaky from the experience, but relieved that he was alive.

“Wait-- so you’re going to help me become a Hunter then?”

The giant shrugged. “Meh. Maybe. Dunno yet. I still don’t see much of a reason to help out any human, but I have reasons to help myself here.”

Warren furrowed his brow, still blinking blearily as his head was foggy from drowsiness at the moment. He opened his mouth to try to ask what these “reasons” were-- He didn’t want Eli to use this training as an excuse to keep on eating him. But the giant quickly spoke again.

“Anywho, you should probably get back to your sisters now. Don’t want them to get worried. Don’t worry, I’ll clear up the werewolf evidence.”

Warren groaned. “Wait-- but I need that werewolf! The U.L. needs it as proof--”

“You gotta earn your first kill. Doesn’t count if I do all the dirty work ya know.”

Warren sighed. He had a long way to learn to get good at this hunting thing. He dug into his pockets to pull out his car keys and grimaced as they were dripping with slime. “Ugh disgusting…”

Eli smirked, offering a short pat to his fluffy hair condescendingly before he stopped, seeming to remember something. “Oh-- almost forgot this,”

He dug in his pockets, taking out Warren’s pistol and his shoes and tossed them over to the little man. Warren sputtered, quickly managing to catch them. His eyes narrowed at how carelessly the giant had just thrown a pistol at him, but at least it didn’t go off or anything. Warren shot a look at Eli uncertainly as he fumbled with his reclaimed items.

“Thanks.... Uh… You won’t use this whole training thing as an excuse to... you know… eat me again, right?” There was a slight waver in his voice.

The giant let out a short snort of laughter. “Alright, how about we look at it like this; if ya can actually escape me for once, ya won’t have to worry about getting eaten by anything.”

Warren’s eyes widened by a hair. He bit his lip and his eyes narrowed again. “F-fine.”

“Aw you get all cute when you try to act all fierce and stuff. Seeya ‘round Tiny.”

The giant stepped back, still smirking as Warren got flustered from his words, but he got back into his car with a sigh, dropping his shoes on the passenger seat and put his pistol into the glove compartment. He shot one last glance at the giant. “Don’t call me tiny.” Warren snapped back to the giant’s amusement. Without another word, Warren took a deep breath and began to drive away. He could see a small glimpse of the giant’s reflective eyes in the rear view mirror before he seemed to disappear at the edge of the treeline.

Warren took in some deep breaths as he tried to wrap his head around what he had just agreed to. That giant had every reason to hate his guts. For all he knew, Eli might be toying with him to gain his trust. Warren was new to the whole Hunting thing, and already he must be breaking some sort of ancient rule not to team up with monsters. He really hoped that his judgement wasn’t wrong about this…

He would have to talk to Olivia about this later.

#vore story #v/ore #v.ore #unseen legion story #unseen legion #unseen legion series #Eli Arawn #Warren Pace #gt vore #halfsize vore #unwilling prey #unwilling vore #nonfatal vore #monster vore #ulseries #ulstories

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friendship-ended-with-pokespe · 3 years

Text

Kirby: Meta Knight and the Strongest Warrior in the Galaxy Chapter 5

Meta Knight spread his black wings and rushed at Kirby. “Fight me, Kirby!” “No, I don’t wanna!” “You can’t deal damage to me in a Normal state. Use a Copy Ability!” “I said I don’t wanna~!” Kirby held his head and ran about, trying to flee.

It isn’t like he hasn’t fought Meta Knight. He has fought him several times up to this point, whether it be that they had some minor misunderstandings or opposing viewpoints. But those were because both Kirby and Meta Knight had a reason to fight. It would be that both of them had a motive they couldn’t back down from and were unable to avoid conflicts. But it’s different right now. Kirby can’t stand the idea of fighting because of Meta Knight’s desire to become stronger. “Hold it, Meta Knight!” All of a sudden the floor of the palace shook strongly enough to ripple. Having been chasing after Kirby, Meta Knight flipped his cape and looked at King Dedede. “Your stupid training is over. Knock if off and cool that head of yours.” “-My wish is to fight a strong opponent.” Meta Knight stood ready with his Galaxia. “You be my opponent, King Dedede!” “Hmph, I’m not gonna take off halfway like Galacta Knight. I ain’t going easy either, have at you!” “Just what I wanted!” Meta Knight swung Galaxia up and slashed at King Dedede. The king swung his hammer and met the attack. Galaxia and his hammer clashed and sparks flew up fiercely. The two jumped back at the same time and glared at each other. “Fine power you have, King Dedede. Just what I expected.” “I’m just warming up, you know!” “But power alone doesn’t work on me!” Meta Knight quickly swung his Galaxia. A blue-white beam surged out from the tip of the sword.

“Ahhhh!” King Dedede bent back and dodged the beam. “How low to do have to be to use projectiles!?” “It isn’t. A true warrior is capable of using every attack at his disposal!” Meta Knight fired his beams in succession. King Dedede dodges with feverish haste. The beams that missed bounced back and hit the remains of the ceiling. The beams broke the solid stones and made cracks. Kirby, having been watching the two battle, was alerted suddenly. The ceiling crumbles and a large debris drops. Waddle Dee was right under it. Restless from his worry that someone might get injured, Waddle Dee was separated from Captain Vul and the others before he knew it. If he is hit by that large rock, he’s going to get seriously injured! “Waddle Dee......!” Kirby ran with ferocious speed to rescue Waddle Dee. But King Dedede was quicker than Kirby. Discarding his hammer, the king held Waddle Dee up and jumped out of the way. Waddle Dee was frozen stiff and unable to say anything. King Dedede yelled at Waddle Dee with a frightening look. “Quit wandering around! You’re in the way of the match!” “I-I’m sorry, sire......” “Hmph!” The king took a deep breath and flung him away violently. Kirby rushed over to Waddle Dee who rolled on the floor. “Waddle Dee, are you alright!?” “Yeah, I’m okay. I was saved by His Majesty.” “Thank goodness!” Kirby sighed in relief King Dedede picked up his hammer and glowered at Meta Knight. “You dare harm even my lackey without discrimination!? You’re going too far, Meta Knight!” “I’m not trying to get anyone caught up in it. Anyone that doesn't wish to get hurt should back off.” “You son of a gun......!” Dedede is so furious that steam comes out from his head. He swings his hammer and throws himself into Meta Knight. Meta Knight dodges quickly and responds with Galaxia. It turned into an intense clash yet again. Kirby was thinking as he protected Waddle Dee and took cover alongside the wall. King Dedede is right. Meta Knight is going off the deep end. Having felt it for quite a while, his discontentment against Meta Knight swelled up in Kirby’s heart. Of course, it isn't a bad thing to desire to be strong. But it’s unacceptable to go on a destroying spree without taking his surroundings into consideration just for that. How could he be so composed when Waddle Dee who has neither weapons nor strength was nearly wounded......! It ignited Kirby with anger. “Something’s off with Meta Knight. I’ve got to stop him......!” Whispered Kirby, bracing himself. Waddle Dee said with worry. “Huh? Kirby, don’t tell me......!” “I’ll fight!” Kirby kicked the wall and began running over to Blade Knight. Blade Knight is holding the “Copy Essence Assortment” that they bought at the curio shop with care. “I want a Copy Essence, Blade Knight!” “Huh? Uhh......su......sure......” Blade Knight was overwhelmed by Kirby’s vigor and opened the sack. Kirby stuffed his hand into the sack and took out the first thing he grabbed. “Wing!” As soon as he touched the orb, Kirby transformed. Beautiful yellow plumes are fitted on his head. Extending on both sides are flight feathers even larger than that ornament. “Wing,” the Copy Ability allowing him to fly freely, is set into motion. “Let’s go, Meta Knight!”

Shouts Kirby, lowers his head, and glides at a low altitude. Meta Knight was just about to knock Dedede’s hammer attack back. He saw Kirby charging at him and yelled. “Now you’re talking, Kirby!” “It’s only ‘cause you’re such a dummy!” Kirby charged toward Meta Knight as he shouted. He uses “Condor Head” which boasts tremendous power! Even Meta Knight can’t afford to be struck by this. He was dealt a direct hit and was blown away. He however rose up quickly and stood ready with Galaxia once more. “Impressive, Kirby!” “Cool that head of yours! You’re acting really strange right now!” “What you think of me doesn’t matter. I wish to become much more powerful!” Meta Knight jumped up high and tried to slash at Kirby. Flapping his wings, Kirby changes his direction and goes around to Meta Knight’s blind spot. Meta Knight lost sight of Kirby for a moment and recoiled. Kirby quickly fluttered his flight feathers. Countless feathers fly toward Meta Knight like arrows. Meta Knight knocked it all down with his Galaxia. Captain Vul and the rest were watching the battle with sweaty palms. “Incredible......” “Both Kirby and Meta Knight are really strong!” “Will they be alright? If one of them were to get severely wounded......” Then, at that moment. A bloodlust-filled presence arose from behind them. It was a ghastly and cold presence. Captain Vul, the Meta Knights, and Sword Knight and Blade Knight all turned around at the same time. A beautiful warrior shining in brilliant white was standing. A white mask with large wings. To his right is a massive lance lance and to his left is a cross-crested shield. It was Galacta Knight whom they thought had run away. Seeing his overwhelming appearance, the Meta Knights were scared out of their wits. “Ga-Ga-Ga......!” “Galacta Knight!?” “Didn’t he run away!?” Galacta Knight was following Meta Knight with eyes devoid of emotions. And then, someone unexpected appeared from behind. It is a boy of lanky build with a round face and curly hair. Seeing his face, Captain Vul shouts. “Mo......Moa!? Y-You were alright......!?” One by one, the Meta Knights too shouted for joy. “Moa! Moa!” “Oh my gosh! We were worried sick about you!” “You were alive~! Thank heavens~!” But Moa’s gaze toward the Meta Knights was cold. He sneered at them. “It’s not Moa. You are to call me Master Moa.” “......Eh?” “Show some respect! Or else the strongest warrior in the galaxy will burn you all into ashes!” Moa began laughing in a loud voice. Captain Vul was dumbfounded and said. “What are you saying? Did you eat something bad while you were missing?” “You better watch your mouth. If you don’t want to be burnt to ashes, that is!” Moa looked at Captain Vul and the others in an arrogant attitude. Sword Knight said in a stern voice. “Don’t tell me......right from the start, you were......” “Yeah, that’s right. Becoming Meta Knight’s man, hiring pirates and having them attack the Halberd, and going missing in the midst of the battle was all part of my genius plan!” “What did you just say......!” Hearing his shocking revelation, the Meta Knights all grabbed their weapons. “You scum......for what did you do all this for......!” “Ahaha! Isn't it obvious? It’s all to get my hands on Galacta Knight, the strongest warrior in the galaxy!” Moa pointed at Galacta Knight. “Meta Knight seems to have unsealed him in the past. Hearing that rumor, I wondered how I could make him break the seal again.” Moa laughed brashly. “I would need to drive Meta Knight to the wall for that. Were he to make an irreversible mistake, he'd surely mourn over it and try to summon the strongest warrior to train himself. What would be the greatest mistake for him? The answer is simple. Despite his looks, Meta Knight is said to care deeply for his men. I was certain that the disappearance of his man would overwhelm him with remorse.” “Y-You rascal......” Captain Vul’s fists trembled in anger. “Right from the start, you became his subordinate only to use him......!” “Correct. My prediction was right on the nail. I pretended to go missing and followed you guys’ movement in secret. And once the timing was right, I hid Galacta Knight with this high-performance camouflage cape!” Displaying his camouflage cape in triumph, Moa then took out a small controller from underneath it.

“And finally, just as I planned, I turned him into my servant with this “Anything Controller!”” ““Anything Controller”......?” “It’s a miraculous machine made by the ancient civilizations in Halcandra. Everything in this world can be controlled by this. This is all I need for Galacta Knight to exalt me as master......” Suddenly, Galacta Knight jumped up in the middle of his lines. He flutters his white wings and flies toward Meta Knight. Moa watched him in a daze and fidgeted with his controller. “Huh? But I didn’t order it to fight yet. That’s weird......” “Moa......” The Meta Knights surrounded Moa and drew closer to him. They all look bloodthirsty. They seem ready to draw their weapons even when they don’t have it in their hands yet. Panicking, Moa fumbled with his “Anything Controller.” “C-Come back here, Galacta Knight! It’s an order from your master......!” “Master my foot!” Captain Vul lunged at him and knocked the controller down from his hands. Dropping on the floor, the controller bounced and broke. Coming out from inside were cheap-looking gears and screws. “Ahh! My dad bought this Halcandra-made “Anything Controller” for me......!” Moa kneeled and gathered up the scattered parts. Captain Vul hollered at him. “That thing ain’t made in Halcandra or whatever! You can see for yourself, can’t you!? That’s just a stupid toy!” “You’re joking......I was tricked......that lying shopkeeper......” Said Moa resentfully, but noticed everyone surrounding him and forced a laugh. “H-Huh......well......? Aren’t you my seniors? I’m sorry for everything that happened. If you could make me your trainee from now on......” Of course, there’s no way they would let him off now. The Meta Knights exploded with anger. “Seniors my butt!” “As if we’ll ever forgive you!” It was when everyone was about to gang up on him. Something came tumbling with a violent noise. The Meta Knight avoided it quickly, but Moa was crushed beneath it and let out a moan in agony. Sitting on Moa was King Dedede covered with injuries. Waddle Dee came running and shook the king. “Y-Your Highness!!! Get a hold of yourself, please!” “Don’t touch me, you idiot! It hurts!” King Dedede pulled his face rose up. “Even Galacta Knight came back, as if Meta Knight going ape wasn’t enough......I have no idea anymore.” King Dedede turned his eyes to the battle unfolding on the center of the hall. It’s a three-way battlefield. Being able to cross swords once again with Galacta Knight who returned, Meta Knight is burning with more and more will to fight. Spreading his black wings, he flies freely and swings his Galaxia. While fending off all of Meta Knight’s attacks with his shield, Galacta Knight readies his lance and is aiming at Kirby. Flying through the air at a speed overwhelming the two, Kirby is releasing a volley of “Feather Gun” which shoots feathers like arrows.

As the three’s strength clashed, a wave of heat enough to spurt flames swirled. “Oh my......” Said Captain Vul in blank amazement. “This can no longer pass off as training. I don’t believe either of the three can come out unharmed......!” King Dedede said. “It’d be fine if Kirby and Meta Knight were to join hands. It would take the two of them to defeat Galacta Knight.” “No, my lord honors fairness. He wouldn’t fight two on one.” “Is this the time to think about that!? He’s such a knucklehead! That means there’s no other choice but for me and Kirby to team up......” King Dedede re-gripped his hammer to return to the battle yet again. Just then: A purple creature came floating in. “Ah, Sphere Doomer......” Waddle Dee noticed and called out to it. King Dedede said with a long face. “What. You’re still here?” Having been preoccupied with the intensity of the battle, the group completely forgot about the creature from Another Dimension. Sphere Doomer let out a shrill noise and flapped its wings. Waddle Dee pondered. “It looks like it's saying something, but......I can’t understand languages from Another Dimension......” “Talk in a language that we can understand!” Ordered Dedede, but there’s no way it would understand. Sphere Doomer responded with a few words, but seems to have realized that they didn’t understand it at all and floated away. “Ah, you shouldn’t go there......!” Waddle Dee tried to stop him. Sphere Doomer began floating over to Kirby. “I’m sure that Kirby would understand! But it’s not safe there!” Waddle Dee tried to go after him, but King Dedede stopped him. “You moron. You wanna get swept in it again!?” “But Sphere Doomer is......” Sphere Doomer approaches him with no sign of fear, as if it doesn’t understand the intensity of the battle. Meta Knight and Galacta Knight paid no attention to it, or course. But Kirby noticed and yelled out. “It’s dangerous, you shouldn’t come here!” At that moment, Galacta Knight fired a shockwave at Kirby. With Kirby’s agility, he should be able to dodge it easily-but Kirby didn’t dodge it. It’s because Sphere Doomer was right behind him. Assuming a Guard stance in desperation, Kirby shielded Sphere Doomer with himself as the shield. The shockwave’s direct hit was terrifying. His Guard was perfect, but Kirby was nevertheless blown away with his colorful feathers scattered. His Wing ability was removed simultaneously and Kirby reverted back to his Normal state. Galacta Knight attacked the defenseless Kirby without mercy. His massive lance swings down at him in full might. Meta Knight jumped in and stopped the lance with Galaxia. Meanwhile, Kirby stood up and got away to the shade of the wreckage. “Kirby!” Waddle Dee and the others rushed over to him. “A......Are you okay!?” Even as he calls out to him, Kirby is so weakened that he can’t respond. It goes without saying for Waddle Dee, where Captain Vul and the rest, and even King Dedede surrounded Kirby with concern. It was rare for Kirby to receive harsh injuries thus far. “Oh dear. We need to treat him quickly......!” Said Waddle Dee as he was all shook up. King Dedede snorted and took out something red from within the gown he was wearing. “This should be better for Kirby than something like medicine. It’s a Maximum Tomato that I saved as a snack, but......there’s no other choice. Let’s do it.” King Dedede tossed the Maximum Tomato at Kirby.

Kirby opened his mouth weakly and caught the Maximum Tomato. The moment he swallowed it with a gulp: Kirby sprang to his feet. He is brimming with energy, as though the injuries he received were all a lie. He spun once in midair with his eyes sparkling. “Yummy~! I would like another Maximum Tomato~!” “Don’t get carried away! I gave you my precious Maximum Tomato.” “Thanks, King Dedede!” Maximum Tomato is a strange tomato with an infinite power. Kirby likes any food, but is especially fond of Maximum Tomatoes. Having completely recovered, Kirby noticed Sphere Doomer floating behind everyone. “Ah, that’s right. It has something that it wants to say.” Sphere Doomer let out a high-pitched voice and flapped its wing. Kirby tilted his head to the side. “Uhh......what’s wrong? You want some Maximum Tomatoes?” “I don’t have any!” “Does it want more Energy Spheres? But we had only one of those too......” Sphere Doomer shook its body in annoyance and floated to the gateway of the palace. “What is it? Let’s follow it.” Kirby began walking, where Captain Vul held him back “Wait, Kirby. Our Lord is more important than Sphere Doomer. Unless you join in the battle, all of Galacta Knight’s attacks will be focused on our lord!” “He’ll be fine alone. After all, he summoned Galacta Knight ‘cause he wanted to fight him one-on-one.” Kirby trotted after Sphere Doomer. “Ugh......now that you mention it, you’re right......” Axe Knight said to Captain Vul folding his arms. “Captain, maybe it remembered how to open the extradimensional road.” “......What?” “It looks like it’s asking for help. Just as Kirby said, wouldn't it be better for us to leave the battle with Galacta Knight to our lord and help Sphere Doomer?” “......I see. That could be it.” Captain Vul unfolded his arms. “Then we shall assist it. All members, follow me!” Captain Vul began running with heavy footsteps. The Meta Knights and Sword Knight and Meta Knights also follow behind him. “Hmph......I’d rather not, but we’re gonna be in hot waters without the road opening. How ‘bout I lend them a hand?” Said King Dedede in a haughty tone and went after Kirby and the others. Needless to say, Waddle Dee too follows him with small, quick steps.

After every one of them had gone outside the palace: Having been left collapsed on the floor, Moa, the liar of a boy whose existence has been forgotten, sluggishly got up. Turning his eyes to the fierce battle between Meta Knight and Galacta Knight, he shuddered with fear. Then, nodding as though having resolved himself to something, he quickly got up and headed for the gateway.

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Table of contents

#kirby novels #kirby of the stars #light novel #translation #kirby #meta knight #king dedede #waddle dee #galacta knight #captain vul #meta knights #sword knight #blade knight #sphere doomer #so this boy had enough money to hire a whole gang of pirates...

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burnedbyshoto · 5 years

Text

My Girl

jealous!bakugou katsuki x reader; jealous!todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: cussing, jealousy, wig snatched

word count: 5,000 (the both of them together LMAO)

a/n: jealousy… such a sexy emotion… okay but for real y’all, if your boyfriend/girlfriend/partner/significant other/etc., is always jealous to the point where they accuse you of disloyalty??? DUMP THEIR ASS!!!! that wont be discussed here tho... because i went on a rollercoaster of ideas so this is what was produced!!! anywaysssss enjoyyyyyyy.... also....i forgot the fluff....omg...sorry

Part Two

bakugou katsuki

Bakugou Katsuki was not a man of patience.

He was a man of action. Always straightforward and deadly. That was Bakugou's preferred action to most issues. He was not one for sneaking around, and for sure never hiding within the shadows as someone else did a job for him. So when the situation called for Bakugou to be a bystander, it was hard for him not to react. Especially because he had to watch as his girlfriend proceeded to get her hands dirty. The results of this were a bit… surprising but expected.

Bakugou’s fingers scrape against the table as you socialized at the bar. That dress on your body was so tight that Bakugou could imagine you without the dress on. Which meant every other bastard with their eyes glued on your ass could imagine you naked. You have a stupid wig on too, for precaution, it’s pink and shit is it long. You were sex on legs, and Bakugou was not happy about it.

Bakugou watches as your fingers touch the forearm of the man next to you. A charming smile on your face as you leaned in close to the man; as if there was some beautiful secret you had to share. Bakugou watched as your head dipped backward in laughter. Your laugh, a beautiful sound, that echoed through his mind despite the fact he couldn’t hear you. But all Bakugou could do was stand at his table and watch on, his teeth clenching and grinding.

“Bakugou, calm down,” Tsuyu reminds Bakugou from beside him. Her own eyes taking in the concerned reactions of their neighboring tables as well as you. “You’re making a scene, and you’re a recognizable face.”

“Shut the hell up, I could murder anyone in here anyways.” Bakugou sibilates. His eyes twitched as his upper lip curled at the interaction unfolding before him.

It was but, true, Tsuyu had a point. The bigger point being that Bakugou could give less of a fuck.

Here he was staring at his hot as hell girlfriend flirting with the man next to her for information! Espionage his ass! Bakugou would rather go fuck up every villain group to figure out where stupid Deku was being held. Anything instead of this! But no, the government wouldn’t “allow” that course of action. Instead, the now Pro-Heroes of the old class 1-A were working to find out which group it was. Furthermore, the man next to you knew exactly who the group was. Stupid Icy Hot captured his associate a few hours ago and he had confessed a single name.

While searching for information on this mysterious man, they found his Facebook. They were quick to figure out that he was completely straight, too!

So Yayorozu had devised a perfect plan on getting the information from this man! Hopefully without it resulting in a major battle, too. Which was something they were going to need to keep from at all costs! Being secretive was not at all the trademark the alumni of the U.A. Hero Class 1-A had. In fact, given wherever they went, destruction ensued in some sort of way. But for the plan that Yayorozu created, it would begin with a bait.

The bait being you.

But the reason it was you next to the man, was because you wore a mask as apart of your hero costume. Not many knew how you looked like unless they remembered your first year Sports Festival, which many didn’t. It turned out that even then, many people forgot how you looked. Which was beyond Bakugou on how because you were by far the most beautiful thing in the world.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Bakugou hisses under his breathe. He watches the dickhead place a suggestive hand on your ass. Bakugou hated the fact that you were so damn good at acting as you leaned into his touch. A smile on your face as you captured your lower lip between your teeth. That smile that is meant only for him. “I’m also going to fucking kill y/n, too.”

Bakugou couldn’t help the fury that ignites in his blood as the man slips a key card to you. You had succeeded in the getting the key, but still, Bakugou was not happy. The man gets up afterward, and walking away, adjusting himself in his pants. Bakugou wants to rip his own head off as his fingers clench the fabric of the table cloth. Bakugou watches as you turn around, your e/c eyes locking with his. It’s a fleeting gaze that lasts less than a second, but it’s everything Bakugou needed to calm down for the moment. He feels better.

As soon as you walk out the door, Bakugou and Tsuyu have to remain there. They are attempting not to look too suspicious after all, but soon enough they follow after you.

It’s time to get this rescue mission on the road.

Bakugou watches from a video camera in the hotel room next door to their target. His eyes trained on the laptop before him. He has an intense stare on the man who was freshening himself up with cologne as he awaited you.

Before this event, they had bugged undetectable tiny camera’s in the man's room made by Yaoyorozu. They brought in with the help of Koda’s animals, or were they insects? What ever it was, it was nothing big enough to let them into the room without making it obvious.

The plan was simple, and it was the following: Tsuyu would go in using her camouflage. While you and the man were busy, she would look around. Bakugou role in this was the tank they would need in case something happened. Not that the two of you couldn’t handle yourselves, but they had no information on this dude’s quirk. They had to also take into account that you were in a skin-tight dress, heels, and without your Hero License! No one was sure how far you would have to take it with the man or how paranoid he could be as most villains were. So, no one risked the license on you. Tsuyu, while a fantastic hero, would focus more on the sneaking and attaining details. Bakugo was there in case she failed.

No one actually wanted it to be Bakugou as the tank. They had suggested that Todoroki or Mina be the one watching out. Bakugo, nonetheless, wouldn’t allow any of that insisting that it had to be him.

So they had to compromise.

Thus there Bakugou sat staring through the live input feed as the man sat on his bed as you sauntered in. The pink wig flowing around you as if straight out of a movie. Bakugou could see Tsuyu given he knew she was there. A feat that managed to impress Bakugou given that it was through a camera and not in real life. Moreover, the man was unresponsive to the green dressed hero walking in. He never broke his attention away from you meaning that everything was still in the clear.

Bakugou watches in growing anger and jealousy as you go and sit on the bed. Tossing your fake hair over your shoulder, a hooded look in your eyes as a smile spread on your face.

He watches with his nostrils flaring as you crawl towards the man. You then get on top of the man, straddling him onto the bed. You push his shoulders in one swift movement so that he collapses onto the bed. Bakugou stirs. That should be him.

Bakugou watches your pretty mouth brush against the man's lips before pulling away. Your ass rising off his body as you lean down teasing him again. Your arms supporting your weight besides his head as you smile. The veins in Bakugou’s arms are popping out as he clenches the pants of his disguise. Calm down.

He watches as the man's hands travel up your creamy, delicious thighs. Snaking their way under your dress, managing to move the fabric up. The screen freezes for a moment, much to the growing rage of Bakugou before reconnecting. On the screen, he can see you throw your head back, something Bakugou knows to be a moan escaping your lips. A lustful smirk enters the man's lips.

Bakugou is fuming.

But he can only watch as the man removes his shirt, and it's thrown somewhere in the room. Bakugou scoffs at the way too overdone muscles on the dude's stomach and chest. That was definitely only for looks. Hell, Bakugou bet a single punch even without his quirk would take him down.

“Hurry the fuck up, frog face,” Bakugou seethes as the man now has you flipped onto your back. He can see the giggles escaping your lips as the man head dips to brush his lips against your semi-exposed chest.

Bakugou flashes his attention to Tsuyu who is standing by the door now. Her thumbs up showing she obtained the information. Moreover, with what could only be jealous rage, Bakugou stormed into the hallway. Slamming the fire alarm on, Bakugou knows Icy-Hot would be setting a fire somewhere in the hotel. Bakugou disappeared back into the room. People are hesitant about exiting their rooms, everyone unsure if it was a false alarm or not.

“Please, all guests, exit in an orderly fashion.” A voice over the intercom system says. Bakugou watches through the laptop as you exit the room with the man on your waist.

There’s a lot of people in the hallway, so as Bakugou exits the hotel room, he keeps his head down, on a mission to now get you away. Your eyes widen as you see him in the hallway, and he knows that you see the jealousy in his face and eyes. A knowing smirk comes onto your face. Bakugou rolls his eyes at your smirk but he manages to crash into the man, his hand disconnecting his hold onto you.

The damn bastard shouldn't have had his fucking hands on you in the first place.

“Shit, sorry man.” Bakugou apologizes, his head low. He smirks seeing that the small bump was successful enough for you to slip away unnoticed. The man walks away confused and searching for you as he followed the crowd nonetheless. Bakugou grins as he sees you and Tsuyu by the hotel room. That hot yet stupid wig still sitting on your head, and an accomplished look on both girl's faces.

“The group that has Midoriya-kun are called: The Second Coming. They’re a small organization, but they are powerful quirk users.” Tsuyu states showing them the manilla folder. The said group name and address of their headquarters printed in small text. “It says here, they have someone with a jellyfish quirk that has had him paralyzed.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Bakugou snarks, “Go tell the others for us.”

You look confused as Bakugou grasps your arm, as he pulls you into the room, abandoning Tsuyu in the hallway.

“Katsuki!” You groan as Bakugou slams the door behind you. You turn ready to face whatever pent up emotion he is dealing with. You’re shocked as you aren't meet with possessive jealous anger. Instead, you're wrapped up into a sweet, soul-crushing hug.

“I was jealous,” Bakugou mumbles against your neck. He was taking in your intoxicating perfume as a way to remind you that you were there with him now. “But I worried something terrible was going to happen the entire time. To be honest, I would’ve killed him if you had sex with him.”

You sigh gently. You wrap your arms tight around your emotion-driven boyfriend, “That’s why we had Tsuyu. She’s great and super fast at scouting.”

“That’s bullshit, I could’ve been faster,” Bakugou states as the two of you sway in each other’s arms, your fingers gently massaging his scalp. The hug never wavering in contact or strength.

“Like hell, you could be! The infamous loud and rambunctious Bakugou Katsuki, Explosion Hero: Ground Zero? Being able to slip around while being visible? I don’t think so.” You laugh as Bakugou rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, extra.”

“I’m your girlfriend, but if you want me to be an extra in your life, well I’m sure there was a man out there who was willing to—“

“Don’t you fucking dare say it!” Bakugou growls by your ears and goosebumps flash across your skin.

“I do dare,” You counter playfully. Your teasing stopped by Bakugou’s lips possessively dragging against yours. Your eyes shut in response as hot huffs of air escapes both your mouths as he continues devouring you in a kiss.

“I guess I’m going to have to re-educate you on what I’m willing to do for you,” Bakugo grunts against your lips. His hands move to grasp your ass, something he’s been aching to do for so long that night.

“You don’t have the—the,” You can’t finish that sentence as you moan. Bakugou had sucked on the sweet spot on your neck. His hot tongue soothing the enflamed skin seconds before he could break through any skin. Your eyes close as he picks you up in his arms, beginning to walk with a single destination in mind.

“The what?” Bakugou growls as he tosses your body onto the bed, a loud squeal coming from you. Bakugo groans as you look at him with the same hooded eyes that drove him insane moments before.

“The balls to fuck me when your best friend is missing.” You pant moving your hands to remove the pink wig from your head.

“Nuh-uh, the wig stays on, princess. Shitty Deku got himself into this mess, he can stay there for a few minutes longer.” Bakugou sneers as he unbuckles his pants as he stares into your flushed face. He was ready to give you the quickie of a lifetime.

todoroki shouto

Todoroki Shouto was a man that many believed to be dense. Lacking situational cues. Sometimes even uncaring.

They weren’t wrong, per se, Shouto was dense. It took him seventeen months to figure out you were flirting with him! He never picked up on the fact you wanted to date him until you asked him out! He also, at times, was uncaring about situations that didn’t concern him. But Shouto was no idiot. He knew when men were flirting with you even if he couldn't tell with himself, and to be honest, he was not a fan of it.

The two of you were now established Pro-Heroes. having graduated from U.A. last year, and you both shot into stardom alongside other alumni from U.A.

Shouto was also dating you, a secret from the general public, actually.

The two of you decided to keep your relationship status concealed from the public. As new heroes, you didn’t want your popularity or hate coming from your relationship. You wanted recognition because you were an effective and capable hero. Not that it mattered in the end. The general population “shipped” the two of you together in exceedingly high numbers.

It had gotten to the point that your PR managers had requested the two of you to come together for a PR stunt. Both businesses were unaware of your relationship status. Nonetheless they had created a joint meet-and-greet.

Tickets had sold out within two minutes, and they hadn’t been cheap either. The day would start with free merchandise. Fans would get V.I.P. selection! Two meals, of course, because it was an all-day thing! One meal was paired with the interview where Shouto and you would let them all speak at least once! Finally ending with a one on one interaction with the two of you! It also included a free professional personalized photo with the both of you. Everyone could stay until the very last photo as well, but no one could take two photos.

The agonizing two-hour dinner interview where Shouto had to dodge personal questions finished. It had been completed hours earlier, but now it was the one-on-ones. It was safe to say Shouto was ready for photo’s to wrap up so the two of you could leave for an at-home late night date. The photo’s and one-on-one’s were becoming annoying and were dragging on to Shouto.

You were getting a lot of attention from both male and female fans. Many of which would come up, grabbing a hand from you and himself. They would stare before they let out a line that about always was, “You guys are the reason for my gay panic,” or “You’re my mom and dad!”

Every time it happened without fail, you let out a laugh enveloping the person in a hug. You admitted it to be the best compliment you received as you chatted away with them with a happy tone. Shouto was grateful you were so great at media interactions. If someone would come up to him by himself and confessed to something like that... Shouto would most likely shoot a ray of ice and fire at the same time by accident.

Of course, there were also the fans that obsessed over the "fake relationship" between the two of you. Some requesting that their photos be of Shouto kissing you while the fan fainted by their feet. Hell, someone even requested you to step on her face while you hugged Shouto, both of you not agreeing to it. Or Shouto’s least–most–favorite. The fan that wanted a cheek kiss, and almost managed to get the two of you to lock lips in front of the large audience you had. The shrieks of approval, dismay, and everything between would not stop for a good too many minutes.

But there were also… those fans who obsessed about only one of you. Shouto could handle the crazy fangirls on his end, most of which were respectful. Yes, some foamed at the mouth. Some sobbed for the entire three-minute interaction. Some became almost bullies as they tried to play off how much they loved him. And the very rare feelers who would attempt to touch Shouto inappropriately.

Still, those girls were nothing in comparison to your fans.

A fan asked if it was okay to motorboat you! He actually pulled out a stack of ¥1,000, and managed to touch his cheek to your breast! That was before both you and Shouto removed him from the premise. The fan still was happy with the contact and refused to take his money back. So you made a donation to a charity, that supported children from abuse, under his name. Then there were the fans who would squeeze your ass during photos leaving you livid. The fans who tried to kiss you by surprise as the camera flashed. Fans who presented you with some sex toys in the hope to woo you. Fans who– well you get the point. Shouto was becoming pissed off at the situation you were in. Looking at the line he was happy to see that there were three people left in line. Nine more minutes.

Shouto turned his attention to the still very large crowd of people who were staying until the very end. Shouto realized in dismay he couldn’t drop his, albeit small smile, yet.

The next six minutes went by fast enough. The third to last person was a tiny and sweet girl who presented gifts to both heroes. Her requested pose was that you carry both Shouto and her on your shoulders. You nailed it by the way, and Shouto had to fight to keep the blush off his face at the feeling of you carrying him with ease.

The second to last person was a Shouto fan only. He pretty much ignored you all together as he talked to Shouto about everything they had in common. Professing that they were soulmates because he was the Scorpio to his Capricorn. The fan asked for a picture of Shouto carrying him bridal style, with you in the far distance looking upset. After all, because he stole Shouto away from you. As he walked away happy with the picture, Shouto focused his gaze on you and rolled his eyes. You smiled regardless, finding the situation funny. It wasn’t the first time something like that got requested after all.

Shouto sighed by your side as the final person approached them. The small gasp that escaped your lips put Shouto on the defense immediately. What Shouto was expecting to see was an average looking civilian, at most, coming over. The gasp was something you did to make people feel excited and special about themselves.

“Ito-kun?!” Your voice calls out in disbelief. Shouto trains his eyes onto a very handsome man walking over, his arms stretched out for a hug. The man had ink-black combed back hair. He was tall, bulked but nothing too overkill and was wearing black slacks and a white T-shirt. He was exactly what traditional handsome in Japan is.

“Looking good, y/h/n!” Ito says with a smile. The non-stranger wraps you up in a hug, a warm smile on his face. Shouto could not help but notice that the hug lingers for a lot longer than any other fan. His eyes narrow. Shouto hears a few squeals coming from the fans, and he sees cameras recording them. So he tries acting unbothered by it all.

“I didn't recognize you without your costume on!” You exclaim as you remove yourself from the hug. You step back to look at him from top to bottom, your attention fleeing over to Shouto. “Shouto, this is Ito-kun, or as you may remember him from the awards ceremony, Kyandi!”

Shouto freezes the slightest bit. Memories of you talking about one of your childhood friends who became a Pro-Hero as well floods his mind. “Oh,” Shouto recomposes himself. The slight jealousy he had been feeling flooding out of his system, “It’s nice to meet you, Kyandi.” Shouto bows in respect, Ito was a dear friend of yours.

Shouto stiffens in his bow as the man doesn’t even acknowledge him. Shouto straightens up as Ito continues talking to you, and you glance over at Shouto. Your own eyes filled with confusion. A small motion of Shouto's head informs you that he didn’t wish to make a big deal out of it. With reluctance, you focus back on the conversation that Ito was having.

Shouto feels awkward as he stands next to you, trying to not feel excluded. But whenever you tried opening the circle to him, Ito would close it off. Shouto watches as Ito places a hand on your elbow, a sugar-sweet smile on his lips. Ito mentions that you look beautiful today. Shouto rolls his eyes, of course, you do! You always do! “Not that you don’t always look good!” Ito backtracks an embarrassed laugh escaping his lips. “It’s that you have such an irresistible personality when you’re around your fans! It’s attractive.”

Shouto rolls his eyes at this comment, could he be any faker?

But he stills when you seem to buy it completely, “Aw! Ito-kun, you’re so sweet! My fans make me so happy after all, I’m glad it’s noticeable!”

“Three minutes are up!” The photographer informs the group. Your eyes snap over to the man who for the entire night was happy to have been there.

“Hold on, okay?” Ito winks at you grabbing your shoulders and giving them a tight squeeze before walking over to the man.

“He’s a bit… touchy.” Shouto whispers to you, and you look over and laugh.

“Is he? Huh? He doesn’t get much time in the limelight... he has his agency in the same district as Bakugou, Deku, and Uraraka-chan. It’s most likely Ito trying to get public approval ratings.” You whisper to Shouto, as you grin up at your frowning boyfriend, your own smile soon faltering. “Do you think it’s something else?”

“…no...” Shouto brushes it off as Ito comes back. Ito with much excitement claims he was able to gain five more minutes with the two of you! Your confused blinks and Shouto’s third eye-roll doesn’t go unnoticed by fans. The fans who are expecting things to wrap up by now. So Shouto stands there as Ito brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes, and he feels his hands twitch. A fit of hot bitter jealousy starts shooting through his veins.

It’s the lingering hand on your waist that makes Shouto shove his hands into his pockets. It's to keep him from ripping Ito’s hand off your waist.

It’s the way that Ito stares at your beautiful face that causes Shouto to look away for a bit, fearful that he’ll lash out.

It’s the small inside jokes that Ito passes through his lips and your pretty giggles. Shouto has to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from speaking up.

It’s the closing space between you and Ito that finally causes Shouto to snap. His ears burning, his heart thumping in his ears, “It’s time for the picture.”

You blink as if out of a trance and smile in agreement, “It is! How would you like to pose, Ito-kun?”

“Would you climb onto my shoulders, like how we posed as kids?” Ito asks still not once looking at Shouto, and you nod your head.

“What about Shouto?”

“Oh, uh, does he have to be in the picture? I want to give this to my mom, and well, it’s not like the two of you are dating, so I wouldn’t want to give it to her.” Ito explains and hot fury lashes through Shouto’s chest. Shouto's heart hammering as he’s ready to show this candy man who the hell he was. Before Shouto could drag Ito to hell with his words alone, you speak up.

“Sorry, Ito-kun, but rules are rules. We already bent one, two would be too much.” You apologize as Ito sighs in annoyance.

“Okay, well I guess he can stand there.” Ito huffs as he picks you up and places you on his shoulders, a squeak escaping your lips from the sudden action.

So Shouto stands there. He's trying to keep the scowl off his face as he glares holes into the side of Ito’s skull. But he chooses to instead look at you flashing peace signs for the photo, and he smiles instead. As Ito places you back onto the floor, he finally pushes his luck too far as he goes in for a kiss.

“Ito,” You gasp as you dodge the kiss all while Shouto now has his right hand clenching Ito’s arm. Shouto's hand glowing with the initial threat of his activated quirk. “That’s inappropriate!”

“Come on, y/h/n, you’re a total babe, why not?” Ito asks despite having his eyes locked on Shouto for the first time tonight. Black eyes meeting blue with grey eyes and you can feel the icy tension flowing between them.

“Please leave. Now.” Shouto growls as Ito rolls his eyes as he shoves Shouto’s hand off of him.

“Whatever. If dating you will mean that this asshole will be guarding you all the time... I wouldn’t want it anyway!” Ito snaps as he walks away covering his face from the cameras. The fans had now all seemed to gather back on word that drama was unfolding between the heroes.

Maybe it’s because the angry jealousy in Shouto’s veins had been at an all-time high. Maybe it was because Shouto wanted people to know who you were dating. But at this moment, Shouto grabs your arm and walks closer to the fans. All the phone cameras are now on the two of you. You’re completely oblivious of what is coming as you assume he’s going to say goodbye and thank you.

What happened next would stay forever in Pro-Hero Romance Drama.

As you waved and blew kisses to the fans, Shouto’s hands cupped your unsuspecting face within his hands. Shouto’s fingers caressed your cheeks, your eyes locking on his with confusion, as he presses a rough kiss on your lips.

You gasped into the kiss having not expected it. Shouto does not waste the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You can’t even help yourself from throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him in close, as his tongue presses against yours. Shouto keeps a hand firmly placed onto the back of your neck. Another one keeping your hips against his as the kiss intensified.

Your lips pressed against each other harshly. Your tongues dancing and twirling in the middle of your mouths. You break apart from Shouto for a moment before pressing your lips back on his, his hands grasping your ass. You can’t keep the small moan from your throat as Shouto bites your bottom lip and then intermingles his tongue back with yours. Which immediately reminds you of your location and you break apart from him. A string of saliva following your opened mouth as blush inks itself against your entire body. The screams of the crowd finally hitting the two of your ears.

You launch yourself away from Shouto. Covering your eyes with your hands as you bow many times in apology to your fans.

“Me and y/h/n have been dating for two years. I want you guys to know that I will for certain will fight anyone who tries treating her indecently from here on out.” Shouto states to the crowd, wiping the bottom of his lip before he turns on his heel and drags you with him. A proud smirk on his face as he leaves security to take care of the feral fans.

“That was so embarrassing,” You whisper behind closed doors.

“I don’t like men touching you like your theirs,” Shouto murmurs as he presses another kiss to your lips. A kiss that you still pour your heart into as your fingers grip his hair.

Pro-Heroes More Like Pro-Lovers! Shouto and Y/h/n Steamy Make-out! is the most trending and streamed thing for the next two months.

(part 2 smut???anyone???)

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