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hash-driveway · 2 months

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Down With Me

Roxanne, Sunnyvale's newest resident, meets Julian and Ricky after they return from jail. Troubled by her traumatic relationship with her ex, will she be able to open up in her newfound home?

Bubbles isn’t in jail in this one. I need him for exposition ok!! Roxanne is all of us and we are all Roxanne.

Also on AO3!

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CHAPTER ONE

Roxanne’s favorite part of living in Sunnyvale was the way that the sun beamed down onto her porch in the mornings. Her routine, newly developed since moving to Sunnyvale, had a sense of peace about it since moving away from the city. Instead of dragging herself out of bed, to then drag herself to her soul-sucking desk job, then back to her lackluster apartment, she felt energized to begin her day.

After rising from bed, she would get ready for her morning jog around the trailer park. When she lived with her ex, she hardly ever had the time to keep up with exercise. Instead, she would resort to not eating much throughout her day to save herself time. She had to be as productive as possible. Now that she had this fresh start, she could take more time for herself. It was something that she had to get used to at first, but once she did, she fully embraced it. It felt good to let go of the pressure and stress that she lived in for so long.

Roxie developed a rapport with some of her neighbors on her morning jogs. She met Lucy and Sarah, two best friends (who Roxie was surprised to find out were not in a relationship) who did hair out of their trailer sometimes. Lucy’s daughter, Trinity, lived with them. Trinity was a little hellion, stealing barbecues and throwing bottles. Luckily, when Roxie caught her trying to steal her barbecue, she wasn’t intimidated by the little kid’s attitude. Instead, she earned the child’s respect by talking with Lucy about the situation in a way that didn’t make her feel guilty. After that, the three of them became friends.

She also met Bubbles, a peculiar guy with the most alarming Coke-bottle glasses she’d ever seen. He lived out of the shed across the street from her trailer. Roxie took it upon herself to put some cat food out on her first night, and Bubbles noticed and came to her door. At first, he was a bit offended, assuming she thought that he didn’t feed his kitties sufficiently. He fed them good, he said, better than most kitties in the world. She believed him.

And of course, Roxie knew Jim Lahey and Randy, the Trailer Park Supervisor and Assistant Trailer Park Supervisor, respectively. Jim was always drunk, and Randy was always shirtless. They weren’t as nosy as her previous landlords, who would barrage her with emails about her hanging plants on the balcony, or the decorations she’d put on her door. Since she was the leaseholder, she was the one who was always being contacted for stupid shit, like her ex parking in the handicap spot or being late on rent because he couldn’t be bothered to save any money. Her ex never took responsibility for anything.

Across the street from her new place sat a white single-wide with brown trim. Two young guys, Corey and Trevor, lived there and completely trashed it. It was unfortunate seeing the state of disarray Julian’s home was in while he was away.

She had never met Julian, of course. Bubbles spoke about him and Ricky so often that Roxie felt like she might as well know them. Bubbles often told her about how excited he was for his friends to get out of jail.

That’s why Bubbles stopped her on her run this morning. As soon as she passed Julian’s trailer on her second lap around, Bubbles ran to her in a panic.

“Roxie! Please, I need your help. I don’t know how I’m going to get Corey and Trevor out of Julian’s place,” he exclaimed, taking a moment to whine stressfully, “He’s going to be back any minute, and they just fucked his place up. They won’t listen to me!”

Out of breath and hunched over, Roxie panted through her words, “Bubbles, I’m sure Julian will be able to handle it. Corey and Trevor don’t seem too bright.”

Bubbles sighed, not feeling any better, “Yeah, well, they’re fuckin’ idiots, but they’re in there tearing the place up… Smoking, drinking, and playing video games all day and night. They don’t even care to clean up after themselves.”

“It’ll be okay, Bubbs, I promise.”

The rest of her morning went on as usual: Shower, change clothes, and brew coffee. She sat on the small porch of her trailer, basking in the sun. Roxie had on a gray tank top which now soaked up the water dripping from her hair, and shorts. While it was early spring, it surely got hot enough for her to wear summer clothes already.

Placing her coffee down, Roxie reached into her pocket and grabbed her plastic cigarette case, which held half a pack and a half-smoked joint. She was saving the weed for later, maybe if she hung out with Lucy and Sarah that evening. Roxie lit up a cigarette and let time stop for a moment as the morning sun warmed her face.

Just after, her trance was broken by the sound of a cab rolling up across the street. She watched as Bubbles ran to the vehicle in excitement. That must be Julian and Ricky, she thought.

The guy who exited the cab first wore a button-up houndstooth shirt with Adidas swishy pants. His hair was a dirty red, styled in a pompadour with impressive sideburns. His eyes were covered by small oval sunglasses. He was cute.

“Bubbs!” He shouted as he gave Bubbles a hug, “I fuckin’ missed ya, buddy.”

Bubbles whined and hugged his friend back, “Ricky! I missed you, too!” Roxie smiled to herself, happy that Bubbles wouldn’t be so lonely anymore.

As the two reunited, the other side of the cab opened. Roxie was greeted by the sight of a tall man with black hair, slicked back and shiny. His dark goatee framed his jaw, and as he turned to retrieve their bags from the trunk, his earring caught the light of the morning sun. His shoulders were broad, and a gold chain rested on his chest. In one hand, he held a drink, which never seemed to spill in spite of the movements he made. He was built, but not cut. He looked like the kind of guy that you wouldn’t want to fuck with.

Roxie watched as Julian propped both duffel bags onto one shoulder, and a small wave of fervor swept through her stomach. She took another drag, and stole glances at Julian as she eavesdropped from across the street.

“Bubbs, what the fuck happened to my trailer?” Julian’s voice was deep and steady despite his aggravated tone.

Bubbles stammered as he explained to Julian how he tried to kick Corey and Trevor out of his trailer, but that they wouldn’t listen. Julian shook his head and made his way into his home with Ricky following behind him. A commotion erupted from the trailer– a combination of shouting and objects falling over. Corey and Trevor really did trash the place. There was garbage and empty bottles where the flowerbeds used to be, and the porch was filled with junk. Roxie couldn’t imagine how disgusting the inside of the house was.

Bubbles looked around, a distressed look on his face. Roxie stood as they made eye contact from across the street, and mouthed:

“Everything okay?”

Bubbles whined again and threw his hands up in exasperation before heading over to her.

“I fucked up, Roxie. I tried so hard to get them to leave, but those dicks are so drunk and high all the time that they never listen!”

She snuffed her cig and patted Bubbles on the back, “You tried your best, Bubbles. It looks like your friends have it handled.”

As she spoke, Ricky and Julian were throwing all of Corey and Trevor’s shit out of the front door. Ricky pushed Corey out first, then Trevor. Their protests fell on deaf ears as Julian scolded them and told them to start cleaning his trailer immediately.

When the two made their way over to Bubbles, Roxie started feeling nervous. Nervous? Fuck no, she was probably just excited to meet her new neighbor…right? Right.

Julian approached and consoled Bubbles, making sure that his friend knew that it wasn’t his fault.

“It’s alright, Bubbles. I should have known those dicks were up to something fucked up.” Julian regarded Roxie, eyeing her up and down before greeting her, “Hey.”

“Hi,” she waved at him, “Roxie.”

“Jeez, Bubbs. You went ahead and got a girlfriend while we were gone, huh?” Ricky teased.

Bubbles groaned, “Ricky! She’s not my girlfriend. Just my friend.”

“Is that right?” responded Julian, the faintest inkling of intrigue in his voice, “Nice to meet you.”

Roxie smiled, “Likewise.”

They shared a brief moment of eye contact until Ricky shouted at Corey and Trevor to “pick up the fucking pace” because he “wanted to watch TV and smoke a joint” with Julian and Bubbles.

“Boys, let’s hurry the fuck up and get Corey and Trevor out of Julian’s! I want to have a tiny bit of a relaxing evening.”

“See you,” said Julian, “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay. Bye, Julian.”

As the boys returned to berating Corey and Trevor, Roxie found herself smiling. Was her face red? Oh God, it must have been weird of her to only say goodbye to Julian, right? Maybe she was being too obvious.

She grabbed the half-smoked cigarette from her ashtray and went back inside before she got too excited about meeting her new neighbor.

#i love you tumblr for retaining formatting. mwwwah #mwrites #julian tpb #tpb julian #julian x reader #julian tpb x reader #tpb fanfic #trailer park boys x reader #trailer park boys fanfic #trailer park boys fanfiction

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brainfuzzz · 2 years

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Old Truths Ch. 1 "The Truth"

Yep, another Crocodile learns that he's Luffy's mother fic because why not? Also, I'm making him the Snake Princess before Hancock because I'm already in Crocomom hell so why not pile on more to it, right? Expect a reunion with Dragon as Crocodile goes on a journey for the truth and eventually finds peace.

One week, seven days, 10,080 minutes and the pain in his chest has yet to go away. Physically he is fine. He’s dragged several doctors into their hotel room to prove that. But still, here he is, unable to pull himself from this bed. Unable to eat more then a bite of food a day. Unable to even hurl the smallest of insults and threats to the hotel manager when he comes banging on the door demanding payment or to vacate the room. Daz Bones is the only reason he’s been able to save face from the public, but even he’s growing restless now wondering how Crocodile can be in such a state. Whenever he does ask when they will be leaving, all Crocodile can manage is “I’m tired.”

Sengoku’s announcement of Dragon’s son is still fresh in his mind. He pulls the covers over his head as if that could stop the memory from replaying over and over again. It doesn’t of course. After a moment of hiding his face, he pulls the sheet down and sits up. Daz side-eyes him from the edge of his own bed, silently wondering if his old boss has finally pulled himself together. Crocodile glances at his reflection in the window, barely recognizing the face staring back. He touches the scarred skin just under the dark circles that have formed under his eyes. There seems to be more wrinkles then usual and with his hair in complete disarray he looks like a mad old man. The announcement trills in his ears again. He closes his eyes until it passes.

“Enough,” he says, but if it’s to himself or to the memory, even he doesn’t know. He turns away from his reflection and swings his legs over the side of the bed. The floorboards are cool under his bare feet and creaks from his weight as he crosses the space to the washroom. He distracts his thoughts with the routine process of showering. He slicks his hair back, leaving one strand to fall down the side of his face and lets himself go in his familiar grooming patterns. After freshening up, his reflection already looks better. More normal. The dark circles under his eyes are still there but there’s nothing he can do about that now. He starts to reach for the door when the image of that kid screaming next to Portgas D. Ace’s body pierces his mind. He freezes, the familiar ache that has plagued him for the past week throbbing in his chest. Then, a new cry. A single cry from his past brings him to his knees. He lifts his trembling hand and left arm to cover his ears. Desperate to block out that single cry.

Images from his past flash behind his eyes. Wincing at every memory he grits his teeth trying to will the thoughts away. He must have made to much noise because Daz knocks on the washroom door.

“Should I send for another doctor?” there’s a small hint of annoyance in his voice. Crocodile can’t blame him. It’s not like they’re friends or anything and he hasn’t been acting like his usual self lately. Crocodile steadies his breathing and ignores the pounding in his chest. With shaky legs he gets to his feet, attempting to collect himself. When the trembling ebbs away, he opens the door and steps out.

“There’s something I have to do before we head out to the New World.” He says while pulling on clothes. Daz says nothing but crosses over to help with any buttons and laces. Once Crocodile is dressed, he turns to Daz, directly looking at him for the first time in a week. “While I do this, I have a condition. You cannot ask me any questions or ask why we are doing what we are about to do.”

Daz stares, expression never changing before finally saying, “Fine.”

Crocodile pulls a cigar out of his coat pocket. Daz lights it, a familiar action that they both find a small sense of comfort in. He leads Daz out of the room feeling weight on his chest with every step. He focuses on his breathing and the taste of his cigar. He won’t let himself crumble ever again.

They steal a ship and head out. It’s just small enough that both he and Daz can manage it on their own. Crocodile is already forming plans to gather a new crew in the back of his mind while the forefront focuses on his current goal. Daz stays true to his word and never asks a question. He’s never been a big talker to begin with. A trait Crocodile is once again grateful for. Their destination is far and won’t be easy to reach. When they do reach the Calm Belt, Daz frown’s deeper then usual. Confusion apparent in his disapproval. Crocodile positions himself behind the main sail.

“We don’t have the luxury of having sea prism stones on the ship or poisonous sea kings to deter the other beasts away, so expect a fight every step of the way.” Crocodile summons his sand and sends a swirling mini sandstorm just behind the sails, creating enough wind to keep the ship moving. Daz’s arms turn into blades and not even a second later, the first sea king appears.

By the time they are even halfway through the Calm Belt they are both worn out from battling the beasts of the sea. The port side has a massive bite mark where one had managed to sink its teeth into their ship and the hull is covered in gashes. But other then that, it’s fine. When Amazon Lily comes into view, Crocodile can feel Daz staring holes into the back of his head. He ignores him and takes in the sight of the island. The place he thought he would never return to. He can’t help but give a sad chuckle. Life keeps throwing him for a loop with no signs of stopping.

As they grow closer to the island, he begins to make out a familiar vessel anchored close to the island shores. His heart drops to his stomach. The yellow submarine that had carried the kid away along with Jinbei comes into view with its crew resting in front of a wall with the Snake Princesses symbol.

They brought him here.

This hadn’t been the plan. His chest aches with heart palpitations while his breathing is quickly becoming labored. He reels himself in as quick as possible. Had he been alone he would have dropped to the floor, letting his face fall into his hand, and focused on calming his heartrate and breathing. But he’s already shown to much weakness in front of Daz. So, he stays strong and ignores his frantic heartrate and fights off the shaking in his legs. Two familiar faces spot him from the shore. One is Jinbei, covered in bandages, the other is a man he doesn’t yet know but vaguely remembers seeing a wanted poster for someone named Law. Law clutches his sword ready for a fight, but Jinbei holds his hand out to stop him. When he disappears into the water, Crocodile takes a long drag of his cigar and doesn’t release the smoke until the fish man is climbing onboard his ship.

“What are you doing here, Crocodile?” he stands, ready to fight even in his current state, but Crocodile has no interest in fighting him.

“I’m not here for you, so calm down.” he sits on the railing of his ship. “I never expected that you would bring him here, but now that I think about it, the Snake girl was saying something about Garp being a grandfather-in-law or something of that caliber.”

He shudders at the thought.

“If you are not here for Luffy, then why have you come to Amazon Lily?” Jinbei doesn’t lower his guard. Crocodile takes another long drag of his cigar. Luffy.

“I’m here to see the old lady, Gloriosa.” Crocodile says with an exhale of smoke. Jinbei stares in confusion. Daz hides his own but its still there. “Tell the old hag to meet me on the other side of the island and to come alone. If she doesn’t, then I’ll be happy to drag her out myself.”

Jinbei finally lowers his guard, frowning at Crocodile. “You saved Luffy and myself in Marineford, so I will do you this service. Though I question your motives behind it.”

He begins to turn back towards the island when Crocodile finds himself blurting, “Don’t…”

He stops, staring over his shoulder at Crocodile. Crocodile keeps his face pointed in the opposite direction, not trusting himself to not give too much away. “Don’t tell the kid that I was here.”

Jinbei says nothing else before dropping into the ocean. Crocodile has his ship circle to the other side of the island. He has Daz drop him off on the shore and then take the ship out a small way so that he might have some privacy. Crocodile leans against a tree, smoking his cigar, cursing himself for being as nervous as he is. He needs to know the truth, but a small part of him just wants to jump back onto the ship and sail away. He snuffs that feeling out quickly. He will not be coward. When footsteps approach from within the jungle, he stands up straight ready to face the old hag again.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here, man,” her voice is as old and shrill as ever. She finally emerges from the shadows of the trees, frowning and gripping at her snake that she uses as a cane.

“Granny Nyon,” Crocodile lets the words drip from his mouth, enjoying the sight of her freezing over at the sound of that name being spoken so casually. “It’s been a long time.”

“I don’t believe we’ve ever met.” Her grip on the snake tightens, her expression serious. “How dare you call me that.”

“Haven’t we? If I recall the last time I saw you, you were screaming for me to return to the island. Now you want me to leave again? Very rude of you.” Crocodile wears his usual grin. There’s something about staring down someone who is clearly intimidated by him that gets his blood pumping. Granny Nyon stares at him, wide eyed, refusing to believe what she must realize is true. He does look much different then when he lived as a woman. But the similarities are still there and only those who truly knew him back then would be able to pick them out. Granny Nyon begins to shake.

“You,” her voice is hushed, tears building up in her eyes. “But I heard that you died!”

“I did, in a way. The old me died so that the person you see before you can thrive.” He leans against the tree again, the anxiety from before nowhere to be found. This was more liberating than he thought it would be.

“But why? Why would you do this to yourself? As a final act of rebellion? To make it where you could never return home?” she’s raising her voice. To confused and distraught for any of it to make sense.

“I did this to be myself!” his voice is rising to match hers. They stare at each other, silence falling on them both. After what feels like a lifetime, her face softens as she slightly leans against her cane.

“I see,” she says, eyes averted from his. “Have you always felt this way?”

“Always.” His breathing is returning to normal, and his pulse slows to its normal rate. She nods, finally understanding.

“Very well, then I will find peace in the fact that you are alive and living the life you were meant to live.”

Crocodile has never needed her approval for anything, least of all this. But still, knowing that she isn’t disapproving of him calms him more then he realized it would.

“You may have come from Amazon Lily and even been a past Princess, but the fact remains that men are not allowed on this island.” Even as she says it, she knows she’s a hypocrite. Crocodile grins, he knew she would say this no matter the outcome and he’s never been bothered by it. But the fact that there is an entire crew of men anchored on the other side of the island makes this conversation hilarious to him.

He arches a brow, “A rule that seems to be broken at the moment.”

She sighs in frustration, “That Hancock is going to be the death of me! One man I can deal with. But an entire crew? What is that girl thinking? Nothing, that’s what.”

Crocodile takes a small bit a pleasure in knowing that the tradition of giving this woman hell is still going strong. She begins to turn back towards the forest, assuming their interaction is over.

“This isn’t why I’ve returned to Amazon Lily.” Now his words are laced with venom. She pauses before slowly turning to face him. He stares down at her with the same malice as he would any other victim caught in his clutches. “Seventeen years ago, before I left this island. You told me that my child died in childbirth. Is that true?”

The color drains from her face. Her ghastly expression answering the question he has been asking himself since Marineford. Since Sengoku announced that Dragon has a son. But he needs hear her say it.

“Answer me!” his sand swirls around them. she grips her cane for courage.

“No, it is not true.” Her words pierce him deeper than any sword. He feels tears forming in his eyes but pushes on.

“And that child, was it a girl?” his voice is faltering.

Granny Nyon closes her eyes before opening them and saying, “No, the child was a boy. You gave birth to the first boy born on Amazon Lily.”

Read the story HERE on AO3!!!

#sir crocodile #crocodile #crocodile one piece #crocomom #daz bones #mr. 1 #luffy #monkey d. luffy #jinbei #law #trafalgar law #granny nyon #amazon lily #one piece fanfiction #ao3 #Old Truths Ch. 1 #The Truth

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semi-imaginary-place · 6 months

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FFXVI Rewrite Part 5: Origin, Ultima, and the Ending

With the last Mothercrystal destroyed and the final seal on Ultima broken, the apocalypse begins. The sky breaks apart into dark roiling aetheric stormclouds casting the world into eternal gloom. Aetherfloods spill across the lands poisoning all life and turning it akashic, the remaining crystals fail. There is no nation left standing in Valisthea. The one force that would have fought against Ulima’s rule Waloed is in disarray. The greatest champion fighting for free will was Banabas who is now dead. Congrats on making things worse! Isn’t free will and making choices great? The party much now scramble to figure out what is going on, all the while the realization of how badly they messed up slowly dawns upon them. Like in the actual game’s post Twinside section, the party scrambles to recover from the Waloed attack while also fending off compounding problems of starved beasts, Fallen machines, akasha, and wraiths. Now though Origin has also risen into the sky destroying all hopes of salvaging Twinside. The party travels around Valisthea piecing together the deteriorating situation with the destruction of the Mothercrystals and wonders if this is what Ultima wanted since they stopped bothering them several Mothercrystals back. Doomsday cultists start popping up. In particular will be the savior cult the Circle of Malius who are much the same as the are in the actual game striving to make all people akashic as they see it as the ultimate pure state free of mortal burdens. This formerly suppressed underground faction now runs free now that Barnabas is gone.

I really do like most of the sidequest storylines especially Dion and Harpocrates’ quest, however a complaint I had was that their placement right before the final boss dropped the pacing off a cliff. In this rewrite the last section is being expanded so there is time added here for Clive to rally people and finish their storylines so that the finale can be uninterrupted. This includes the final part of Jill’s character arc where she reckons that for all that she has talked big and tried to help people, she herself still does not quite know what it means to live on her own terms, but she thinks she is finally starting to understand. Jill wants to travel the world, to help the people out there who don’t know how to fight for themselves yet and to find herself. In the actual game the Jill-Clive romance is primarily hindered by Jill’s poor writing having tried to fix her writing here I have no objections to the romance anymore. However, I was never a fan of romances and am of the mentality of that if it isn’t needed it shouldn’t be included. For example, in Tales of Arise the relationship between Alphen and Shionne is the center point around which the rest of the story revolves and while it could have been a friendship instead of a romantic one, there is no Tales of Arise without Shionne and Alphen’s relationship. This is not the case for FFXVI, even in this rewrite Jill is not the deuteragonist (if anyone it’d be Joshua), as such Jill and Clive’s relationship is not central to the story and really while I’m not opposed, I feel a romance just gets in the way of the story, if there’s to be any romance I would rather it just be implied or optional. Dion and Terrance should still kiss because that is bold and revolutionary in a way the portrayal of any straight couple isn’t, also they’re side characters so it doesn’t matter this story isn’t about them. Before the final dungeon is also the time to show how life without magic sucks. FFXVI sort of glosses over this very briefly but I think this point should be integrated into all the final storylines, without magic people have no safe drinking water or fire, disease begins running rampant, industry grinds to a halt, and food production halts so people begin starving in the streets in mass, and Clive has to see all this knowing this is what he’s done to people.

The party eventually learns of Ultima’s plans to destroy the world and enslave humanity by flooding them with aether and turning every living thing akashic. At the same time, they record increased aether concentrations gathering around Origin, as the Blights worsen as Ultima repurposes the same draining mechanisms as the Mothercrystals, He turns the very chains that bound them into his servants. Instead of loredumping via a ten minute monologue at the end of the game, now would be a good place to drop bits of lore and worldbuilding like how in this version dragons, frostwolves, and such were the original inhabitants of the world. Ultima is the last surviving active member of the Fallen whose ancient civilization made all the ruins encountered across the game. Ultima and the Fallen brought humans to Valisthea and created eikons by enslaving the power of the land’s original inhabitants. Eikons are a phenomena of the recent centuries and a sign that the seals were weakening.

As a lover of JRPGs I found it immensely disappointing that Origin was just some cutscenes and not a full dungeon so I’m making it a full dungeon in this rewrite. Ultima is trying to draw in Clive and possess him anyways (as well as the combined Ifit-Phoenix fire eikon) so they would try and cut off the rest of the party. Dion is able to break a hole in Origin that Clive enters into with Joshua, however Jill is cutoff, and under constant assault she seals the hole after them to stop pursuit. In addition, the Fallen forces are marching from Origin to turn every person akashic and Dion and Jill are needed to hold them back. As such Dion and Jill as the two that can fly stay outside to stop pursuit of Joshua and Clive, as well as to try and contain Ultima’s forces from murdering and or turning everyone on the continent into akasha. This would be a nice scene to show all the factions of Valisthea that Clive has met and negotiated with coming together to ward off extermination. Like the Trinity Accord can actually be something meaningful as a defense accord rallying humanity’s last remnants. Origin will be a classic final dungeon boss gauntlet with no way to exit until the player beats the game. Every set of floors (5? 10?) will be a boss as Ultima seeks to weaken Clive.

During the ascent to the top or Origin the final secrets of the game are revealed and the lore scattered throughout the game brought together. To reiterate, the Fallen drained the resources of their homeland and turned it into a wasteland, their civilization collapsed and the survivors fled upon the mothership Origin to a new world. Coming to Valisthea, they came into contact with the native lifeforms such as the dragons and began a war of conquest for control over Valisthea. The Fallen made eikons out of draconic aether to use as war weapons against the dragons themselves thus why eikons are elemental themed. Eventually the Fallen with their eikons and advanced technology kill most of the dragons but not before most of them were killed as well. As a last resort the last remaining dragons sacrificed themselves to seal the last Fallen away the Eldest Wyrm’s body fragments, becoming the Mothercrystals. The Mothercrystals much like dragons themselves have a strong connection to the aether of the land and while not ideal, a side effect of the Mothercrystals is that they feed off of the land’s aether to power their seals. Because this was a last ditch effort it’s full of problems including that the seals take an unsustainable amount of aether and after the land is drained of aether the seals begin to fail. Mining and using crystals sped up the breaking of the seals as well as the spread of the deadlands as the Mothercrystals drained the lands to fuel the seals. Ultima is the last active Fallen who awakened as the seals weakened. The reawakening did not go as he hoped as the other Fallen only remained as aether. Ultima seeks to flood all of humanity with Fallen aether made of his people’s souls to truly reincarnate them, replacing the original aether of the world with Fallen aether. Origin now acts as the focal point amassing aether and releasing Ultima’s forces.

At the top floor of Origin Clive and Joshua find not only Ultima but Anabella and Olivier. Anabella and Olivier transport to Ultima’s eden space ship which is revealed to be the red star Metia; Origin acts as the connecting point between Valisthea and Metia. Ultima reveals that the Fallen are the true humans of this setting. The original humans created soulless shell or dolls for them to later fill with their own aether, reincarnate, and thus save their civilization. All the characters the player has met were these husks created by the true humans, the people of Valisthea were never meant to be people on their own with wills and thoughts. Similarly, Mythos like in the actual game was the chosen vessel for Ultima to fill with the eikons, ascend to godhood, and power the casting. But like most plans, things have gone wrong and now created fights Creator. Ultima tells Clive and Joshua that they and their brethren were only ever imposters wrongfully claiming the title of humanity their masters: the true humans. As creations of humans, they belong to humans, their wills exist only as an extension of the true humans’ wills. “In Ultima's eyes, mankind's greatest sin is the awakening of free will—his servants straying from the path their creator laid out for them and forging one of their own. However, Clive contends that this is a sin by which Ultima is equally stained—and indeed, if humanity is indeed Ultima's creation, does not their every action, every emotion stem from him?” (Mysteries of the Realm: Sin).

Clive and Joshua face Ultima in his Ultimalius form as in actual FFXVI for stage 1 of the final boss fight. After beating Ultimalius, Ultima transforms Stage 2 is a giant kaiju eikon battle is space. Like in the Bahamut fight, Ifrit and Phoenix combine, however where Ifrit Prime was an incomplete fusion, this time the fusion is in full and the true Eikon of Fire emerges: Adonaios v2.11 (other possible names are Sabaoth and Belias). Ultima uses the beta testing version Adonaios v1.8; 1.8 comes from the incorporation of all 8 elements plus Ultima, 2.11 comes from Adonaios having to be split into two but left unfinished by Ultima for Clive to collect the remaining eikons. In game Ifrit Prime just looked like the Ifrit model with 2 feathers glued on, Adonaios v2.11meanwhile looks like a 50:50 fusion a molten red eikon with wings, horns, a feathered tail, and a jagged beak. Adonaios is slimmer than Ifrit but overall bigger with the feathers. Adonaios v1.8 meanwhile looks like the figure on the murals, a fusion of all 8 eikons and elements however it is falling apart at the seams even as Ultima fights with it because it’s an abandoned draft version. Late in the stage 2 fight Clive and Joshua are losing and draw upon the remaining power of the eikons of whom only Bahamut and Shiva are left. This drains the remaining eikonic power from Jill and Dion, grounding them and making the Valisthea fight hopeless, the Ultima fight now all or nothing. Stage 3 of the final boss fight takes place aboard Metia. Metia was an alien spaceship all along, but more accurately it is a control satellite from which to coordinate the revival of humanity. Clive, Joshua, and Ultima have all mostly used up all their power in the previous stage. In this final stage of the fight Ultima transcends and returns to his original appearance that of a human, Clive and Joshua are no longer fighting some strange monster but someone they would recognize as human. In stage 3 Clive cannot semi-prime. In the end Ultima is killed and his species is now extinct.

Joshua and Clive are exhausted from climbing Origin as well as the consecutive boss fights but begin to relax with Ultima dead, and then Anabella steps out. Anabella thought she could outplay Ultima by siding with him and then taking over, and now she sees her chance. She steals all the power that Ultima had been siphoning into himself to cast the spell, and redirects it all into Olivier to turn Olivier into a god and who will rule the world, doing what Ultima failed to do. It fails because playing god is a bad idea, Olivier’s body cannot handle the power and it begins mutating him into a deformed humanoid abomination with multiple arms and eyes, bodies seemingly trying to grow out of him. So, the true final boss is mercy killing a child who is falling apart and turning into an abomination but doesn't know it, as he cries that it hurts and begs you to stop. Olivier cannot be allowed to live as they will destroy the world. and the aether is warping his mind and he becomes less coherent as the fight goes on, regressing from full sentences to just screams. Ascended Olivier doesn’t really fight back, he flails around and lashes out when attacked but attacks aren’t particularly aimed at the player and he’s mostly crying and shaking on the ground in pain. Ascended Olivier has a very large health bar and the story will not progress until he is killed, the last save point is before reaching the top floor or Origin. In a game full of epic boss battle, the last is anticlimactic by design, there is no epic music just silence, there is no challenging gameplay, only attacking a child. The gameplay is boring, its grueling, and that’s the point. Clive kills Olivier and then there’s just Anabella.

Much like the Fallen were the creators of modern humans who sought to control their creations and saw them as an extension of themselves, creations that deviated and refused to submit to their will and thus were failures. So too is Anabella a controlling creator who deemed her children failures for not advancing her goals, hating and discarding them to try again with a new child. Olivier was supposed to be her ultimate creation, perfect and subservient to her with no will of his own. The parallels between Anabella and Ultima exist in the actual game so it was disappointing her role ended so early and nothing was done with this parallel. Here is this rewrite, the large-scale destruction of the world by Ultima is paralleled with the destroyed Rosfield family and this final confrontation with Anabella. Anabella is not a warrior, without her soldiers and pawns she doesn’t have and martial power, she is more or less powerless to her fate at this point having discarded all her cards and bet everything Olivier. Clive (and the player) are then given the choice to “do nothing”, “kill”, or “spare” Anabella, Clive after all was the one who suffered the most from her. If “kill” is chosen, then Clive kills Anabella. If “spare” is chosen, Clive walks away but not before Joshua steps in and kills Anabella because even if Clive can forgive her Joshua can’t. If “do nothing” is chosen Anabella kills herself unable to reconcile with a reality in which she has lost.

Clive and Joshua use the last embers of the eikonic power remaining to shut down Primogenesis and Ultima’s plans, landing the Metia at the base of the crumbling Origin. The closing shot is of gang standing together overseeing a ruined Valisthea as the camera pans showing the aether storm clearing, wraiths evaporating, and fallen machines deactivating permanently. The deadlands are still around but a new sprout is seen growing. The credits sequence plays over a scene of Mid yelling to hurry it up she wants to see stoves and water purifiers in every village by the end of the month, shots of people is Valisthea figuring out how to live without magic using technology and innovation, the main characters are seen helping repair efforts. The end card says 4 years, meaning FFXVI takes place over a total of 16 years, from the beginning of the game and Phoenix Gate to the end of the game and Origin. Sun light is streaming through a window as Clive writes in a book which he closes to the title “Final Fantasy XVI by Joshua and Clive Rosfield”. As the timeline is changed here so that Clive is younger for the duration of the game than he is in the real game, his older model can be used here. Clive is using his non-dominant hand here as his dominant hand has been partially petrified from his fight with Ultima. On the desk is a photo of Clive and a bedridden Joshua.

The game’s themes could have been better integrated into the final section of the game. If FFXIV wanted to tell a story about choice, then they should have made Clives’ choices have weight and consequence. If he wants a society free of the Mothercrystals then the game should have showed how he ruined the lives of many many people by destroying them. FFXVI would have benefited greatly from more moral dilemmas like that. There should have also been exploration of the concepts of creation, ownership, makers, what makes someone human. One missed opportunity was not bringing up the relationship between art and artist, is art an extension of the artist or its own thing. The references to Gnosticism were fine but the concepts could have been clearer. There are also just a truckload of small problems and inconsistencies in the game like how Charon is said at one point to have a wide variety of customers across the continent while at another point is said on exclusively trade to the Hideaway. There’s a sidequest about how Murdoch’s nephew joins the Hideaway because he admires Clive and then the game forgets about him (just like they forget about Jill) and only remembers him again to put him on a bus, thus having no interaction with Clive. A lot of worldbuilding is just badly done. I love mysteries but making things misleading and obscure for no reason is not how to do it. So much of it was unclear or convoluted or just pointless even after reading the completed The Thousand Tomes that I just threw the whole thing out and wrote new lore for this reimaging of FFXVI. If a change is not specified than it is the same as in the actual game. I wrote 85% of this in Jun-Jul of 2023, then stopped for lack of motivation. I only finished this for the sake of finishing it because I don’t care anymore. I’m done with FFXVI and it’s poor writing.

It says something that it ended up being easier to throw out the later 1/3 of the game. In earlier drafts I did originally try to make canon work like Barnabas being one of Ultima’s devout and purifying Waloed by turning it all akashic, or Joshua’s probable death at the end of the game. Like it would have made more sense for Barnabas and Ultima as they are portrayed in the actual game to methodically hunt down and kill every person or named NPC Clive has ever talked to, slowly isolating him from his humanity by breaking every connection he’s ever tried to make. But of course, this removes the cast from having a role in the rest of the game and makes it impossible to keep the rest of the game the same. This rewrite ended up being pretty happy and optimistic because that’s the spirit of the original game. FFXVI in the end is pretty optimistic, which I have mixed feelings about. FFXVI tries have an upbeat uplifting ending and message while also wanting to be a dark, gritty, edgy Game of Thrones knockoff, and while this is very possible for a work to do, FFXVI did not succeed in meshing these aspects into a consistent whole, XVI ends up feeling inconsistent or disjointed. So while I did eventually decide to uphold XVI’s optimistic spirit I did consider another possibility leaning into more of the darker ambience. With the rising of Origin and fight to climb the tower, every major character either is killed or sacrifices themselves for Clive to reach the summit. The Cursebreakers buy time of the ground with their lives, Dion finally gets the absolution of death he has been seeking for Sanbreque, Jill joins Clive and Joshua in the tower but sacrifices herself to hold back the tower bosses and all of Ultima’s forces chasing them up the tower. During the second stage of the final Ultima fight to turn Ifrit Prime into Adonaios v2.11 and truly fuse Phoenix and Ifrit, Joshua who is already dying burns himself away allowing Clive to have all of Phoenix’s power. Clive thus kills Olivier alone, and faces Anabella alone, his fate left ambiguous.

Read this in one long post

Read this in parts: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5 .

#ffxvi #ff16 #final fantasy xvi #final fantasy 16 #anabella rosfield #ffxvi ultima

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dewdropreader · 1 year

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So I’ve been tagged by the lovely @insert-witty-user-name-here for this WIP game! Thank you as always for thinking of me for these, they’re always lots of fun!

Rules: Pick five fragments from your unfinished WIPs and then tag five people to keep it going. Let’s have fun with it and help each other shape those fragments into published fics!

I only actually have four to pick from that actually have full enough sections written! I have plenty others with outlines and ideas but these four have enough to actually pull snippets from lol. Hope you enjoy! Let me know your thoughts on any and all of them!

This first one is from a WIP that probably won’t be a WIP much longer. I’m going to do one more quick edit and then post either tonight if I’m not too exhausted, or tomorrow sometime! It’s one that’s been wallowing in a 2/3 finished state for a while, despite me loving the premise, something wasn’t clicking but I think I got it to where I want! Still toying with a bit of the flow but I’m enjoying it so far! So hopefully if you enjoy this snippet you’ll get to read the whole thing soon if you’re interested!

“Nah. You’re incredibly clever, Loki. Brilliant, even— that’s one of my favorite things about you. But I’ve been at this a long time, I’m pretty clever where it counts too.”

Loki is looking at Mobius with a sort of raw bewilderment. Loki has never met someone like him before, neither afraid of him nor purely reverent despite the kind (and seemingly genuine) compliments, nor overly cruel to him. Mobius is teetering on some line between omnipotence and overwhelming averageness, and yet he is remarkable regardless. Mobius had managed to read him and crack open every shell Loki has built around himself. He could blame that on the horrifying enormity of the TVA but he thinks without Mobius' mix of aggressive hounding and gentle curiosity he would have never admitted those fragile ideas that he’s kept hidden for so long, would have never allowed anyone else to know that he doesn’t enjoy hurting people and that deep down he feels like an exposed, horrified child with no one to reach for, the picture of weakness.

So, he hasn’t figured out where he stands with Mobius yet. He isn’t a friend, really, but yet he is also a force of relative calm and amiability in the face of Loki’s world imploding.

Loki stifles a cough and looks away. “Right,” he returns his gaze to Mobius’, forcing a look of attempted calm. “I’m sure we’ll see.”

Loki would usually feel much more threatening when saying something so bold, but he’s so worn down and exhausted he isn’t even surprised that Mobius doesn’t step back or furrow his brows in concern.

Instead, Mobius just claps his hands with a sort of finality. He doesn’t comment on the way Loki flinches slightly at the sound, but he drops his hands fairly quickly. “So, can I get you anything before bed?”

Loki sighs with only a hint of petulance. “Well, you can’t get me out of here, so I don’t believe so.”

Not too too much of it is written (a lot is outlined but less actually fully written) but here is a snippet from the beginning of chapter 6 of With You Through the Storms (Aka the cat fic!)

Now that Loki and Mobius are back together, it’s somehow like not much has changed even if in some ways everything has.

They fall back into a version of their routine as if Loki was never gone. Mobius’ body has to adjust to suddenly having the desire to get out of bed again and not needing to sleep as soon as he gets home, and Mobius has to stamp down the misplaced shame as he realizes how many brisk afternoons he missed and how much he’s let his life go into disarray. He slowly picks up the pieces, doing laundry that has gone undone for weeks and doing dishes and cleaning the floors. Loki helps him without any disparaging words, and Mobius is forever grateful.

The main difference now is that they are touching and looking at each other even more than before. They were always very tactile, and sent smitten looks across the room fairly often, but now it feels like a weird sort of honeymoon phase, neither one wanting to risk losing the other again. Mobius has even caught himself bumping into things because his gaze lingers too long on Loki when moving around the house. He knows there’s something perhaps a bit codependent about it all, and doesn’t expect such intensity to last forever, but for now, in this wildly exciting yet tumultuous time, he is willing to ignore it. He just wants to make sure everything is good again, that neither of them falls into the self loathing traps that separated them in the first place.

This is from a super brief section of something I started to write for flufftober before realizing I had no time to properly do flufftober lol. I started a Lokius piece where I wanted to do snippets focusing on the five love languages and how they happen with their relationship, and the only part I wrote was for words of affirmation. I do actually hope to finish this one just as it’s own thing, but I’m not sure when that will happen! Tbh I sort of forgot about it until I went searching through my WIPs for this, I’m not sure why though because the parts I did write I rather enjoyed.

The second time he notices, Loki is somehow caught off guard despite retrospect saying that it probably happened more than he’d even noticed. And the fact that he hasn’t been noticing, that he isn’t his usually shrewd and careful self… Well, that’s a bit concerning.

Mobius glances up from his paperwork as Loki plops down in the seat across from him.

“You look very handsome today, Loki,” Mobius smiles softly.

Loki’s lips press together as he lets his brain catch up. Is Mobius just being friendly to get him to do something? Or, is there a small chance Mobius noticed the extra attention Loki paid to his hair this morning? He’s been doing his best to work with what he does have—his hair, face, and drab outfit— trying to make himself feel… well, like himself. Without his usual clothing or magic to change his looks at will, he’s had to get creative, and that has especially meant toying with his hair and experimenting with Mobius’ strange hair products that smell like various spices.

Mobius hasn’t lingered on Loki, isn’t watching him for a tell like he is trying to get a specific reaction. He just gave the compliment and has moved on.

—

This last one is from an attempt at one of the Loki Bingo prompts, “disorientation”, I had two ideas and wrote this one, but I’m not sure what happened, I just was not feeling it. Something about it felt weirdly either detached or OOC or both, like it works and reading it I’m not affronted by it but I just was not into it enough to finish editing and posting it. Maybe I still will do something with it, we’ll see, but here is a snippet regardless!

Mobius is up and moving towards him in an instant. Classic is awake, on duty, and notices the commotion, but just looks at Loki with a quiet look of pity and understanding.

Mobius settles down at Loki’s side, a hand falling naturally to the small of his back, muscle memory from guiding him through TVA halls. Loki is shuddering slightly, his muscles quivering with pent up nerves, like a rubber band about to snap.

Loki is staring past Mobius, out into the field of the void, into the nothingness. His lips are parting and closing, soft noises escaping, unintelligible at first.

“Loki?”

Loki doesn’t respond, but his murmuring gets ever so slightly louder, enough for Mobius to make it out.

“Mobius. Mobius, no, please. Please, no, don’t kill him. He’s good. He’s good, don’t kill him. Kill me, prune me, not him. Not him.”

Mobius’ heart aches, his stomach twisting into knots. Loki must have had a nightmare, something so terribly vivid that he hasn’t come back to reality yet. He’s been through so much, especially recently, Mobius knows it’s probably all too overwhelming. His brain is probably at its breaking point, full to the brim of fears old and new, trying to make sense of everything, and now he’s short circuiting from the wash of panic of a nightmare.

“Loki, hey,” Mobius tries. “Loki, look at me. It’s Mobius, I’m here, I’m alive. We’re both alive.”

As for people to tag, I think everyone I would tag has already been tagged 😂 but I’ll tag y’all again, but no rush on this of course! Just tagging some of those who I love the work of even if you’ve already been tagged!

@starport-seven-five @mirilyawrites @lgwilt @blackbirdofasgard @cha-melodius

#fic tag #fic game #fanfiction #WIP #wip tag #fanfic WIP #lokius

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therealityhelix · 1 year

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Shards of the Nexus: HatrVættr

Sympathy for a devil.

Song: Enemy-Mystery Skulls

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions

He was a bramble in the spring thaw, too early to bloom, all soft new leaves and red thorns pointed outward. Approach with caution.

But...

This was what had them all so unsettled? This was the source of such hurt and fear, such concern, such silence? He was barely more than a child.

He was curled in on himself to seem tiny, a tumbleweed of onyx strands ready to blow away, and he looked up at her, the very picture of innocent bewilderment.

Cornflowers blooming on the side of a road, clinging tight to thin soil strewn with litter and salt. Tension tight piano strings, one snap away from sharp notes.

“Who are you?” A weak, warbling clarinet, hollow, lilting, tempting, leading.

“My name is Helix. Have you heard of me?” He shook his raven head. “Well, I'm friends with Swag. And YJ, and Puzzles too. And several other people I suspect we both know.”

There was an unwinding, a spooling out of sinew, a revelation of form. This body was built for strength, grace that showed through even in its crinkled state.

This was not the first body, not the first life. She did not know this shower of garnet and diopside, because he had been dead these past two years, his corner of the Nexus an empty space in the edge of her vision. A face cut out of a photograph.

This being, this Narci, was a wight. A spirit, returned from wherever it had once gone, to make a new place for itself here. All worlds were full of them. They resided in rocks, trees, and homes. They were people, animals, mushroom circles. Free willed entities, possessing their chosen homes through their own agency. He still wore the bracelets she had created to house him while this new body was being built specifically for him, a copy of the one he'd left behind. He was dangerous, a betrayer, untrustworthy, mad. Or so she'd been told.

It was one of the only things she'd been told. The Family had otherwise been strangely quiet about all this. One would think that the return of a lost brother would spark celebrations, joyful reunions. But the men who never shut up, their lips were sewn, like Loki forced to bear the ire of his own cleverness.

They were afraid.

And she had tried; she had gone to the Detective once Puzzles had dropped the news, once everyone had reacted like iron filings to the wrong end of a magnet. They had only said one thing to her.

“Do you know what it is like to truly fail?”

And she could find out no more before Jervis had chased her off. Nash would speak to no one, YJ was all a-fret, but still gave no straight answers. Even Arkham, who simply looked at her, no words needing to be spoken for them to know that they were, and would remain, on opposite sides of this.

She didn't even know what this was yet, but damn him, he was almost certainly right.

So, of course, she had gone to the Question Mark in search of answers.

And was flatly refused.

Startling, to say the least, because Swag never told her 'no'. But the twins had sat there, identical shaking heads, in complete accord for once, in saying no, please, don't you fuckin' dare-in futility, because they also knew she would go anyway.

“Just don't let him get his hands on you.”

That last, a warning from Unswag of all people, a man she knew would have blood up to his elbows that very moment if not for her. A warning from someone who knew.

It was so very wrong to see the Family-her family-in such disarray.

And so she had come, because of course she had come. And she had her chalk, and her tools, and her magic. She had come to assess if this was a problem that she needed to make Go Away.

But he was just a young man.

“You know Puzzles...is that why you're here? To visit him? He's never mentioned you. Do you have permission?”

“I come and go. It's something of an understanding between all of us. And I don't doubt he hasn't mentioned me. I'm not terribly important.”

Despite her role in helping Puzzles get this new body created, he had apparently seen fit to keep her involvement secret. But if Puzzles was as unsettled as the rest of them, neglecting to mention her might be his way of trying to keep her safe. He was complicated like that.

She crouched down to get on eye level, his Xerces blue stare coiled with viper caution. There was little curiosity there, unusual for his 'kind', just a wild, animal instinct to puff up.

“Then why are you here?”

“Personal curiosity. I wanted to assess the situation for myself, and also, I always greet new Riddlers when they show up. And maybe to annoy Puzzles just a bit. Don't tell him, but he's cute when he gets all bratty. But it's all right, I don't think he-”

“Don't talk about him like that!” the piano string snapped, its metaphorical twang mirrored by the hand that whipped out after her neck. The fingers met her shields, not with a crash, but with a simple cessation of forward movement. She could see him pushing, straining against the force that solidified the atoms around his hand, see him eventually give in and draw back.

“Oh my.” she said quietly. “You're really going to have to get a handle on that. But I guess I get it. You owe him a solid, right? For helping you out.”

“What are you? How did you do that?” the woodwind lilt was even meeker than before, as if he hadn't just tried to tear her throat out.

“I didn't come into this situation with nothing, darling. It's just that my weapons and armor are not as visible as most.”

“Then...I can't hurt you?”

She shrugged.

“It would take more than I think you can currently muster. Do you want to hurt me?”

“N-no. Not really. Just...just don't talk about him like that. He's better than us.”

She tilted her head. Us? She knew most Riddlers considered themselves to be on a higher level than everyone else, but this was the first time one had not considered themselves among that number.

“Than you? Are you not a Riddler too?”

“No! I mean...yes. But not really. I never earned it. I don't deserve it. They're perfect. I'm...broken.”

“Oh honey, are you really? It's okay, I might be broken too.”

“Broken and entering more like.” Puzzles said from the doorway, and she only jumped a little. “No, that was awful, I'm trying that again.”

“Good evening, Puzzles. As you can see, I was just-”

“Just doing what you do, I know. It's not that I haven't been expecting you to pop by, it's just that I'd thought this time you might wait for an escort. Don't know why I thought that, it's not as if you've ever shown an ounce of caution, but this might be, I don't know, a mitigating circumstance?”

You see, she mouthed to Narci, who scowled and reached out for her again.

“Narci.” Puzzles warned sharply. He drew back instantly.

“She's a liar.” he sulked. “She said she had permission to be here. And she called you a brat.”

Puzzles glanced down at her, lips pursed, and she lifted an eyebrow, daring him to deny it. He stepped closer to them, interposing himself to where he could get between them if necessary, crouching down to be on their level.

“She does have permission to be in my home. Mostly because no one seems to have any way of keeping her out. She is, however, a...friend. This is Helix, and I would like you to treat her nicely. She's...” He searched for a proper description. “Family-adjacent. She's one of those things that happened while you were gone.”

“I can't hurt her.” Narci said, still pouting a bit.

“That's the spirit.” Puzzles praised.

“No, I mean I can't. I really can't.”

Puzzles fixed Helix with a quizzical stare.

“Uh, well, he might have tried to touch me earlier. And found out he was unable to do so. So it's all fine! Nothing to worry about.”

Emerald eyes bored into her. Curiosity flavored the more or less good-natured irritation, and she knew this time she wouldn't be getting away without an explanation. Though not cruel by nature, Puzzles was a Riddler and, in his way, he'd draw the information out like a winkle from its shell.

And maybe it was about time he came to understand better what she was.

“Well...Don't try it again. She might not exactly be one of us, but she's earned a place. For instance...Do you remember Unswag?”

Helix frowned. Why would he bring that up? She still had very mixed feelings over what had happened there. Narci nodded, looking deeply uncomfortable. Unswag was one of those contentious topics, or at least, he had been once. Terribly dangerous, until she'd forced him to become something else. She hadn't meant for that to happen, but she couldn't change it now.

“Well,” Puzzles said. “She defeated him.”

“It was an accident.” she muttered, and Puzzles elbowed her as Narci's eyes went wide with awe.

“Yeah.” he continued. “Bested him so decisively that he doesn't even look the same anymore. Just remember that. She might not look like much-”

“Hey!”

“-but she's got the respect of the proper people.”

Narci still stared up at her like she was something unexpectedly amazing. He held his hands out, in supplication rather than aggression. Something, some little spark of his desperation reminded her so much of how lost she had once been. She dropped her magic shields and, ignoring Puzzles swift intake of breath, drew Narci into a careful embrace.

The boy froze for a moment, entirely unsure what to do, thawing slowly, his hands ghosting over her sides until they came to her hips. His fingers dug in suddenly, then he jerked, flinging her away into Puzzles waiting arms, and crumpled to the floor begging forgiveness. “I think he likes you.” Puzzles murmured into her ear. “Now get out.”

He shoved her into the hall and grabbed the doorknob.

“Wait!” Narci cried. “Can she stop me? If I...Can she stop me?”

Puzzles uncertain gaze flicked to the hall where he'd pushed her. She smiled gently back.

Artist: me

Artist: @miasmacaron

Artist: @cardwrecks

#shards of the nexus #Riddler Family #narci!riddler

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delphiniumarchangelmoon · 2 months

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Okay but the trailer looked??? Futuristic?????

We might not be getting an identical game to PLA, I wouldn’t be surprised if this one was set in the future

And I don’t know how the catching mechanic would work cause I saw a tweet saying it’s in lumiose city specifically which, while a HUGE area, is certainly no Husui

I think we’re gonna get a completely new play style and while yeah, I wish I could ball-spam my way through kalos too, I’m really excited to see what they bring to the table story wise!

The one thing I think will absolutely be carrying over from PLA is the focus on expanding previously established stories and giving answers to a lot of questions.

In PLA we got things like “how to poke balls work” “why was spear pillar destroyed” and “who were the ancient people of sinnoh”

And in this game—if it’s futuristic— I’m expecting focus on stuff like

What is the next technological step for pokemon research and training

What are the long term consequences of the plot of x and y

How does Kalos’ culture change over time (it was a very past-revering region—exploring castles, rediscovering ancient was machines, etc. but how does that change or stay the same as technology develops?)

But if we are looking at a region set in the past I can only assume it will be after PLA and deal with

The first proper pokemon training culture developing

Possibly the first “evil team” organization?

What lead to the creation of team flare and why they were motivated to destroy the world

And upon looking at Zygarde’s dex entries I can also assume with fair certainty that this “urban restoration” or whatever it was is going to be heavily environmentally based, as Zygarde’s dex entries state that it appears when Kalos’ environment has fallen into disarray

I can only see two possible (good) settings for this then:

Post Industrial Revolution (heavy pollution, set in the largest city, etc.)

Set in the post-modern day, say 40-50 years from now, in a post climate-change environment

The first seems…more likely? For the pokemon team to try and accomplish—although they have been straying further into risky topics as of late with things like capitalism, child neglect, and even genocide being plot points in recent games.

I can just much more easily picture a “what if” scenario about the pokemon world just, sidestepping the post-industrial issues our world has due to having pokemon at their disposal rather than say a sort of dystopian future based on our own world’s current trajectory. That would be a bit dark and not possible to just… casually gloss over like the celestica people plot point on PLA

However the futuristic nature of the trailer is just boggling my mind. Maybe that’s all a red herring and the next trailer will look more like PLA but it looked like a dang computer.

#pokemon

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floef-likes-everything · 7 months

Text

Wingman

Hi! I've just posted a new chapter of my (now almost finished) MCC/Evo centered fic called Wingman! I'll give you the summary here, and a bit of the most recent chapter furhter down (which does include spoilers, I have you know).

Grian hasn’t left the Hermitcraft Server since he joined. There was no reason, as everything he’d knew before it was destroyed because of his own poor decisions. So when some of the Hermits convinced him to come and support them in this competition they were about to compete in, Grian didn’t expect his past to catch up to him so quickly.

He definitely didn’t expect to become the wingman of his presumed dead friend.

p.s it also has a little bit of flowerhusbands for those interested :]

Grian stumbled and landed on the edge of a cliff, nearly falling down into the depths of the earth. He scrambled backwards, his hands riffling through the fresh grass and dirt as the fresh new Server came to life. Grian could feel in his bones that this Server hadn’t served any other purpose before this, the landscape around them was waking up to their presence.

As Grian turns to sit on his knees, he found his friends in similar states of disarray. Mini had spawned on top of a rather big birch tree, Pearl padded the dirt of her knees and Jimmy lay flat on his back and had crushed a rose bush. Scott popped up from behind Grian, probably having spawned near the edge of the cliff like Grian had.

Martyn stood in the middle of them like nothing had happened to him. As if he had expected this jump. He had his arms crossed and a stoic expression on his face. Yet, for a moment Grian thought he saw a glint of a tear in his eye before Jimmy started to shout and Martyn looked away.

“What the hell Martyn?” he shouted as he sat right up, rose petals sticking to his hair.

“Don’t shout, Timmy,” Martyn answered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can hear you perfectly well.”

“Then please explain the meaning of this,” Jimmy scrambled to his feet, wildly gesturing to the environment around them.

“You all wanted to ‘talk it out together’ so badly that you are now a part of this!” Martyn spat back. He was still frozen in place but facing Jimmy. “I – it was supposed to be just Grian.”

“What is so important that you have to kidnap me to an entire other Server – which I don’t even know how you managed to set up, by the way – and act so suspicious about it?” Grian asked as he pushed himself up from the ground. He had the inclination feelings were going to get hurt tonight, this could all end very badly.

“You’ll see,” Martyn said, evading both the question and eye contact with Grian. “I’m sorry to have pulled all of you into this, but it never would’ve happened in the first place if Grian never sided with… them.”

The world rumbled at the word, literally. Grian noticed the slightest vibration, something similar to the moment before a sand or gravel bank was about to break away from under you. A chill went up his spine and he realized that they were very much not alone. They were being watched.

“Martyn,” Grian said, his voice just a whisper as the realization hit. “What have you done?”

“I did what I had to!” the answer came in an angered shout and Martyn unfolded his arms and made fist of his hands. “I needed answers, Grian! I needed closure!”

#minecraft fanfiction #evolution smp #mcc fanfiction #floef writes #fanfiction

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

sleep like the dead

“And now, I, Technus, shall finally have my electronic vengeance on you, ghost child and conquer this puny human world!” Technus shrieked, exiting the portal in a suitably dramatic fashion. The various weapons around the lab shook and trembled from his power and static from his core crackled, raring for a fight with his favorite enemy. Only the Phantom didn’t appear.

“Hmm, maybe I wasn’t loud enough,” Technus mused before starting up again. “Pathetic Phantom! You can only hope your miniscule half human strength will be enough to take on my squiggling mess of the tangled wires of terror!” He threw back his head and cackled loudly, waiting for his nemesis to show and the battle to begin. His laughter petered out after a bit and the lab became silent once more.

“Well, now he’s just being rude,” Technus fumed, floating up through the ceiling. “Don’t ignore my threats, child. I know you’re here, I can feel your cold core.” He stopped once he reached the ghost boy’s human lair, hovering a few feet from the bed where his rival was sprawled out, sound asleep.

“Come ghost boy, it’s time for fisticuffs! I have some new moves and some great catchphrases I’m ready to try out on you!” The technology ghost exclaimed in excitement, miming some punches. Phantom didn’t answer, just kept laying there barely moving save for his soft, shallow breaths. Technus watched as his breath fogged with each exhale, his core’s ghost sense but it still didn’t awaken him. “Child? Have you expired?”

He leaned forward and gently poked the boy’s cheek. It was squishy but firm unlike a ghost’s exterior and he could feel the dense bone underneath. Phantom didn’t so much as twitch. Technus drew back his hand, unsure of what to do. He’d surprised the child while he was in bed before but he always woke up and they fell into the usual routine. But now he’d changed the script and if there was something ghosts didn’t like, it was change. He flew back down to the portal and sped into the Ghost Zone at top speed, searching for someone who would be able to help him understand.

“Wow, baby pop whooped your butt that fast? Either he’s getting better or you’re getting more pathetic, my bet is the latter,” Ember teased as she strummed to herself from a floating rock near her lair.

“The ghost child won’t wake up and fight,” Technus said in a rush. “I went to the human world but no one answered my challenge. I went to his human lair and he was just lying on his bed thing and he wouldn’t move, even when I touched him.”

“That’s not like him, he’s usually more hopped up and ready to fight than a groupie on coke,” Ember frowned, setting aside her guitar. “Well come on, sparky, lets go check the kid out.”

They developed something of an entourage making their way back to the human portal. A few of the locals had heard that the infamous half ghost child was behaving differently and well, curiosity didn’t stop when the cat was killed. Skulker chuckled menacingly under his breath, Youngblood bounced around the adults. Johnny and Kitty had been going to the real world anyway and decided to tag along.

“Were his folks or Jazz home?" Johnny asked, riding his cycle slow enough to keep pace with the group.

“Who?” Technus questioned, “er no, the annoying children always with him were not around for once.”

“Annoying yes but they don’t live- uh occupy the same lair as the brat,” Johnny explained. As a younger ghost who’d held onto his humanity more than some, he had a better grasp of human culture. “His parents, the crazy ghost hunters in the blue and orange jumpsuits. Or his sister, Jazz. She has red hair and is kind of a know it all. They’re his family, they live with him.”

“Oh those weirdos,” Youngblood said wrinkling his nose. “Always loud and shouting about ripping apart ghosts. They’re not even good hunters.”

“Obviously, they haven’t noticed they got a ghost living with ‘em,” Ember added with an eyeroll.

“It’s a very stressful situation, Danny was worried about what they’d do if they found out,” Kitty frowned before sticking her tongue out at Johnny. “Danny’s a good guy, at least he talked to me about things that mattered.”

“Good target practice, you mean,” Skulker declared as they entered through the portal. Instinctively they all looked up to where the ghost boy’s core was humming but sensed no movement. “Alright, I will admit that is weird. Let’s see what the whelp’s up to.”

It was a bit cramped, the five of them crammed into the small room especially when they were keeping their distance from the room’s only living occupant. He had not moved since Technus had last been in here. At their entrance, his breath fogged again and he shivered for a second before settling back down.

“Well, he’s alive at least,” Johnny shrugged before leaning in close to examine him. “Kid looks wiped though.” He picked up the boy’s bony wrist which had been dangling off the bed, his fingers brushing the floor and held it up before dropping it. His knuckles rapped against the ground but he didn’t stir.

“Johnny, leave him alone, he’s trying to sleep,” Kitty hissed, yanking her boyfriend back by his ear.

“Come on, I’m not doing anything bad,” Johnny defended. “But, come on, how often are we gonna get a chance like this?”

“Hmm is human sleep that interesting that the ghost child would ignore all of us?” Technus asked, floating over and laying himself down on the bed. He laid there on the bed next to the boy for a few moments. “I do not believe I’m doing this correctly.”

“Nah you gotta close your eyes and go off to dreamland,” Youngblood said, grabbing a sock off the floor and then some papers from the desk and began stacking them on the half ghost’s head. The boy still didn’t react in the slightest.

“Is dreamland close? Another pocket dimension like the Zone?” Technus, ever the scientist, asked curiously.

“No, you idiot,” Ember sighed before tentatively reaching out and laying a hand on Phantom’s chest. “Yow, man that’s weird.”

“What?” Skulker asked, having been mostly content to watch until now. Youngblood had now piled several more items on the ghost boy’s head but he slept on, unawares.

“It’s just,” she scrunched up her face as she looked for the words, “I know what ghost cores feel like and I’ve been around enough humans to know the signs of life but he’s got both at once. His core flares and fades opposite his heart beat. It shouldn’t work but it does, somehow.”

“He is a most curious specimen, I rarely see Plasmius in his human skin so it’s hard to compare,” Skulker commented. “Of course Plasmius I can understand. He acts like a ghost, thinks like one. But the child, he’s certainly a ghost but he’s also decidingly... human.”

“That’s why we should be leaving him alone,” Kitty frowned, plucking Youngblood out of the air and moving him away from the sleeping teen. “If Danny isn’t waking up with all of us causing a racket then clearly he’s exhausted. We bother him enough, let him rest and fight him some other time.”

“But I wanted to fight now,” Technus whined, rolling over on the bed and resting one arm over the ghost boy’s body. “The Phantom surely wants to hear my latest monologue on how I’m the supreme ruler of everything electronic and beeping.”

“I know I don’t,” Youngblood shrugged.

“Me neither,” Johnny scoffed.

“Or me,” Ember muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

“Just let him rest,” Kitty said shooing the others back and gently brushing some of the kid’s hair out of his face revealing sallow features and dark marks under his eyes. “It’s hard enough being human much less a ghost on top of that; between fighting us and trying to have a normal life I bet he hardly gets any sleep. The least we can do is give him a break before he breaks.”

“I suppose it’s not sporting to kill a sleeping prey,” Skulker pouted. “And it’ll make his defeat more meaningful if he’s well rested and not uh,” he gestured to the Phantom’s general state of disarray.

“Better appreciate it,” Ember sulked for a second, kicking away some pajama pants from the floor. “His stupid human life. I’d give anything to sleep again, just for a minute.”

The ghosts sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, the dead looking enviously and curiously on the silent, sleeping boy, on a world they could only watch but not engage in. The moment was shattered by the front door slamming open.

“DANNO WE’RE HOME AND WE BROUGHT CHINESE!” Resonated through the house. Startled awake, the ghost child leapt out of the bed and hovered about a foot above it for a moment before sinking back down.

“Darn it Dad, I was napping,” Danny grumbled before he opened his eyes and saw several of his ghostly enemies standing awkwardly in his room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Technus lounging on his bed. “What the-”

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Technus tittered happily, leaning into his personal space. “Ready to hear my spiel?” The temperature in the room dropped rapidly as his core ramped up and spilled over into his eyes which were no doubt glowing a fierce green.

“Get out of my room!” He shouted, reaching over to grab his emergency under the bed thermos but a sock falling from his hair into his face distracted him.

“Hey, just stopping by but we were just on our way out, sleep well, Danny sweetie!” Kitty said dragging the whole group through the floor. His core thrummed in agitation until he felt them cross the portal into the Ghost Zone. He sat there for a moment, shaking and panting from the adrenaline rush before he decided he really didn’t want to know. He flopped back onto the bed and reached over on his nightstand for the bottle Jazz had given him the other day.

“The heck is in this stupid sleep aid?”

#danny phantom #another flash is the pan DP fic #just something about Danny being so tired (also ODed on Nyquil) that he just misses his ghost sense going off #and the ghosts being there and without all the threats of death #just kind of hanging around #looking over him curiously snooping #how often do they get to like see him up close?#he's a freak! lets look him over also stack shit on his head!#and the weird space where you just cant remember being human and what sleeping is like but also being so envious that you cant do it anymore #((also just a note that Danny had all his enemies in his room and slept soundly but woke up in a jolt when his parents got home))#((take that as you will))

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myrulia · 3 years

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omg hi >_<

i just saw your prompt event, congrats on the 600, you deserve more <3

could i possibly get 14? whatever genre you want, go all out, thank you so much :)

.｡.:*✧Prompt 14: "I dream of you almost every night, hopefully I don't wake up this time."

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Yandere themes, abduction, shibari

╰╴⇢｡.:*✧A/N: I'm just accepting one follower at a time, 600 is still a lot!

Every night, he would follow you.

Every night, he would put you out of harm's way from the shadows.

Every night, he desired you dearly.

Kokushibou, or better known as the Upper Moon One, has harbored feelings for you since he first saw you in your village one night, you walking without a care in the world despite other worldly creatures such as himself having the advantage. You were a human as well, so it was naturally wrong for a demon to develop feelings for the one thing he eats, no?

Of course, the demon has taken this into consideration, but each time he thinks of your face, a nostalgic wave hits him hard in the head, causing his senses to be knocked off for just a bit. Due to you being the cause of this, he wanted to get to the bottom of it as much as possible.

This proved to be rather difficult.

Over time, the more he tried to figure out reasons as to why he felt this way when he saw your face, and everytime he would come in dangerous proximity with you, his feelings developed more and more to a feral lust of love. Love for you.

The day he found out about this was the day he was just a few feet away from you. Him being in a dark alley, and you walking down the pathway beside it. He got such a picture perfect view of your face and the warming smell of your scent that his addiction to you in general grew even more.

Kokushibou is indeed an honest man and will not deny that he has feelings for you, so now in that same realization, he also believes that you belong to him for those reasons.

He had watched over you so much and protected you without you knowing knowing he felt a sense of entitlement to having you - after all, he did do all of this when he is a man-eating creature bound to the night. He immediately thought that these sacrifices he made towards his goal was all the reason that he should achieve it.

The days that he spent without you near him made the male grow restless in his own skin as his mind wavered to you each and every time he tried to meditate for peace and resolve, but this also failed.

So without a second thought, tonight was the night that he would make you his, whether there were others there or not, his goal shall be achieved.

He traveled swiftly so that the mission he set his eyes on since the beginning would finally come to an end before the sun rose, giving him a limited amount of hours of leisure time. So with that, it only motivates Kokushibou to move faster.

Before he knew it he found himself in the same alleyway where he got the first full glimpse of your face, giving him that same warm - almost human like feeling within his undead heart. Just like before, as if the moment was replaying all over again, there you were walking down the same path, yet this time, you stopped.

You stopped and stared.

Kokushibou expected a scream of terror, but instead he was met with your dumbfounded expression.

`` Who are you? ``

You asked with such gentleness, moving closer towards the mysterious figure who was just as dumbfounded as you were, but something inside his nervous system edged him forward, his hand raising to touch you.

`` Who are you talking to, [Y/N]-san? ``

Before the demon could process his next choice of actions, his own body betrayed him by pulling you into the alleyway with him and into his chest. Your face only grew in more confusion, but a large hand covered your mouth before you could give voice to the situation.

`` [Y/N]-san? [Y/N]-sannn?? ``

The stranger's voice called out, but with no response, the human simply turned around in the opposite direction and went about their night as if nothing happened. Pulling his hand away slowly as said person leaves, Kokushibou turns his head and tilts his chin down to get a better look at your state, only to find you staring at his facial features with such enticement and curiosity in your eyes.

Seeing you in such ways sent the demon's feelings in disarray once more. It was as if he was in the past again, because standing before him, from over 400 years ago, was his former human wife. He looked around, lost in his own memory before your voice called out to him, bringing him from the small flashback.

`` Sir, do I know yo- hey wait! ``

Suddenly you were thrown over Kokushibou's shoulder and felt the chilled wind on your face as you moved with such speed out of the village that you were left utterly astonished. Yes, you did know that demons exist and their natural diet is humans, but something told you this one was different - and you were always raised to trust your judgement.

Although curiosity does kill the cat.

`` Where are you taking me? Who are you and why are you abducting me?! ``

`` We will be home soon. ``

That was all that came from the demon's lips, and just like that you found yourself in a massive building with rooms and staircases coming from every direction. Your eyes tripled in size, being truly taken aback by your new surroundings and how it seemed impossible to be true.

Kokushibou opened a door to a certain room in what he knew was the Infinity Fortress, setting you down on your bottom - but being quick in his moments he tied you up with a specific type of shibari you have not seen before. It was the type you had seen samurai use in the books provided by your caregivers, but the one before you looked nothing of the samurai you saw in your books.

The thing before you was unmistakably a demon.

A man eating-demon that now had you as its prey.

Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, doubting your judgement and kind spirit from the very beginning and even allowing yourself to become so easy of a target. You pushed yourself by your feet until your back hit a wall, skin trembling in fear at what your future holds. Kokushibou merely took slow strides in your direction, kneeling down and using his index finger to lift your chin up so he could examine your face better.

`` It is no mistake, you are meant to be here, my love from so long ago. ``

You jerked your head back, lips trembling to get any sort of words out, but as you got a visible view of the demon's fangs, worry set in your bones.

`` I have no cl..clue what you speak of, but we have not met before. ``

Kokushibou tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, moving so that his much bigger form was looming over your own.

`` You in this time period may not remember, but you from the past does. You have always been mine, and this has sealed it. Our fates tie together, my dear. ``

You had no idea what the man before you spoke of, but you too felt a nostalgic feeling as he grew closer and closer, although the fear that latched onto your nervous system would not let go.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his hand touched your cheek, your gazes never daring to tear away from each other. With your hands tied it was not like you could escape so easily, as well as your legs being tied together so that you could not run either. You were helpless and out of control of your situation, tears pricking your eyes at this fact.

`` I dream of you almost every night, hopefully I don't wake up this time. We will now be together again, my love, and nothing can change that. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

#kokushibou #kny kokushibou #kokushibo x reader #kny x reader #kny imagines #demon slayer kokushibou #kny yandere #demon slayer yandere #cw: yandere #yandere Kokushibou #☆Myrulia Lyric Prompts

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impulsivefanwriter · 3 years

Text

A Tiny Spark Leads to a Roaring Flame (But Flames Can Always be Doused by Water)

Heeyyyyy so y’all know the Reverse Thanos Snap AU for SPBNR? Basically everyone but Smith/S!Kai gets sent to the M!verse. Everyone. The entire population of S!verse Ninjago City & a few surrounding areas. Except poor Smith. Essentially it happens because S!Garmadon tries to send Smith to a place where he can't mess with his plans, and ends up sending everyone away from Smith to take him out of the equation.

The second part to this AU is that the S!Ninja end up searching for Kai in the chaos and grab the Red Ninja before jetting out of there with the Bounty. Except... they didn’t grab Smith (who’s still home), but rather Red (M!Kai).

Red thinks the S!Ninja are babysitter clones created by Garmadon after he somehow turned Lloyd younger without his memories & is trying to raise him to be his new General #1. With this in mind, he pretends to be S!Kai, and waits for the moment he can rescue Lloyd.

What would happen in the S!Ninja discovered his deception/their mistake of grabbing a wrong Kai and mistake Red for a recreated Aki (aka Bizarro Evil Clone Kai) before he could enact his plan?

Well, this is that idea. (Title inspired by how a crack AU spiralled into a beautiful angst-fest)

Enjoy. :3

-----*-----

Red was going to get Lloyd out of here tonight.

Away from these Not-Friends made by Garmadon to emulate the Ninjaforce. Away from this flying ship built to emulate Master Wu's ship, so familiar and yet so off. Away from this false reality and back to the real everything where they could hopefully get his memories back and his age back and everything back to the way it was before the city descended into chaos.

He just had to... bide his time. Be patient.

FSM, he was bad at being patient.

His hands itched to grab Lloyd and run now, but he was horribly outnumbered and without his mech. No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn't rush this. If he did, he would make everything worse. Like he always did.

But fate- or rather, Lloyd- had other plans.

The little version of his younger brother- yes, they were roughly the same age normally, shut up, Lloyd was still his younger brother- had been... eying him weird all morning. Not like Not-Jay and Not-Cole and Not-Zane, but like Not-Nya. Like he actually knew instead of suspected. These babysitter clones seemed to think he was the Not-Kai, and if that was the opportunity the universe was going to give him, then by the flames of the departed world was he going to skip this chance to save Lloyd.

Currently he stood on the deck of the ship as they parked in the sky a few meters above the docks on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't the docks with the Bounty warehouse, curse his luck, but it wasn't the endless sky or the empty ocean (though it was still too close to that murky, haunting water for his liking. Water was his sister's domain for a reason). At least he could sneak Lloyd off in the cover of night, maybe find someone in the city who wouldn't recognize the Son of Garmadon this way and would be willing to help them hide until they could make it back to the real ninja.

"Kai," Not-Zane spoke suddenly next to him.

Red would never get used to the way his voice... lacked the same effect the real Zane's had. The effect that Kai and the rest of his team had assured their friend over and over was unique, special, but in a good way. To embrace it. That it wasn't noticeable, but when it was, that it was so Zane that his friends didn't care that it was different.

This 'Zane' sounded much too different than his own. He hadn't recognized Kai's tested line of 'road work ahead' when they passed one of the many construction signs littering the city (even more so since the chaos happened a week ago), and instead had responded with 'a great deal of work to fix in the city'.

Seriously, Garmadon, do better research on your clones.

Not-Zane was also much too... calm. Too 'wise' compared to the wild teen that was Zane. And he walked without heelies or whatever Zane used to slide around like a boss, though he was still silent. And that meant, like now, he snuck up on Red fairly often- and Red was training to be a Ninja, so that took serious talent.

"Kai," Not-Zane said again, and Red finally broke his gaze from where he'd been staring over the railing, planning tonight's escape route. "Lunch has been made for over an hour. Are you alright?"

Red forced his brightest smile. "Course I'm alright! Just trying to figure out what happened, as usual."

Why Lloyd was suddenly like, 8, and without his memories. Why the Not-Friends were on this Not-Ship and had mistaken him for Not-Kai. Why the city was in a state of disarray and chaos.

Not-Zane studied him, then turned to give the city a sad look. "I'm not sure myself. My scanners can't seem to figure out what is happening. It is as if... blocked by some force."

Red winced, then expertly disguised the move by leaning against the rail. Zane never would use 'my scanners', despite how often Red and the others assured him it was okay. Yet another reason why this wasn't his friend.

"You know Ninjago City," Red said with a weak laugh. "Always one crisis or another. Always those annoying Garmadon Attacks"

This seemed to satisfy Not-Zane, who nodded thoughtfully. "This event definitely seems to have Garmadon's hand in the mess."

He patted Red on the back. "Well, don't worry yourself ragged, Kai. Come in for lunch soon, alright? We have training for Lloyd later."

Ah, right. Training. AKA what Red assumed was how Garmadon was planning to shape this impressionable version of his friend into his new General #1.

"I'm ready for training now, Zane!"

Speaking of Lloyd-

The little gremlin came up from the hull with the rest of the Not-Ninja. Red hated when the entire group was together; it was way more difficult to act as Not-Kai around them, especially around Not-Nya.

For starters, Not-Jay had a notch in his eyebrow that the real Jay never had. He was missing the iconic freckles, and the scarf, and the fluffy hair, though you could always say it was just a wardrobe change. What you couldn't change was the personality differences. This couldn’t be Jay. Jay was anxious and quiet, his jokes (while plentiful) said more timidly and his newest ideas shared with hesitance that only shrank after years of encouragement. He would never be this loud, ever.

Not-Cole was the leader, probably because Lloyd was so young. But even then, in Red's team, Nya would probably take second-command. Cole was their sturdy support, yes, but he was chill, laid-back. Ready to follow and support his friends to the ends of the earth with his tunes and occasional sarcastic wit, but not lead. Not like Not-Cole, who was more serious and commanding and didn't. listen. to. music. Red hadn't spotted a single record or boombox in the room in the hull. That was a tragic oversight on Garmadon's part. The members of his research team should be Fired.

And then there was Not-Nya. Who wore a dress with confidence that his sister would love but never publicly wear. Who had short hair- Nya had tried that style once, and decided it itched around her neck too much- and jewelry, and a giant flying Samurai mech suit. His sister had the Water Strider Mech, and Not-Nya had a flying combat suit. Sure. Close enough. Personality-wise they were similar.

Similar at first glance. Nya was fluid and adaptable to whatever role she needed filling. She was spunky, and as fiery as him when it came to tempers, though she knew how to keep hers in check (she had to, right? No one called her hot-headed and impulsive and reckless and blamed her temper for mistakes or damage or whatever the news comments liked to say about the Fire Mech). Not-Nya was also adaptable and independent-minded, but she seemed more rigid. More doing her own thing.

Point was, everyone wasn't actually his friends, despite how much they tried to prove they were. And they kept acting like he was this Not-Kai, who was just as hot-headed but apparently more mature and training-oriented and basically the better, cooler (or hotter, perhaps, for the fire theme of the red ninja) him, since his acting never seemed to fully convince them. Trying to impersonate a standard he couldn't seem to reach, some legendary hero he wasn't- er, wasn't yet! Yeah! He just needed to prove himself, be better, and he'd be fine. Just... fine. Yeah.

Mini-Lloyd (Red was tempted to call him L'ilyod in his head, but that felt wrong somehow, like he was infringing on some kind of copyright law) stared at him like a goddamn falcon, and he wasn't talking about the bird that circled the ship. He had this bowl-cut Red would tease him about endlessly after all this was over- seriously, how had Mr. Fabulous Hair started with this mess? Garmadon probably didn't even have hair, so there was no way the guy knew how to style it, and it was very evident based on Mini-Lloyd's hairdo.

Red noticed that all of them were staring, actually. Despite his relaxed rest against the rails, his fingers behind his back clutched the cool bar with a dull shake. He didn't notice how the metal seemed to glow red under his touch.

"Training, right, we should get onto that," Red tried. "What do you want to start with, Lloyd?"

"How about a little game?" Lloyd asked with complete innocence. "What we were playing last week before we got interrupted."

Oh sh!t.

"I-I don't know, shouldn't we start with stretches? Or how about some sparring, that's always more fun than a game!"

"But I wanted to continue our game..." Mini Lloyd said, and FSM's sake, he couldn't deal with that pouting look.

Okay. Okay, don't panic. Think logically. What kind of game would an 8-year-old Lloyd like to play with him? Something physical, so no board games- he liked to test his mettle against Zane on those, and sometimes he would almost not-lose. Logic puzzles also fell more on Jay's area. Trivia, especially music trivia, was a bubble between the anxious motormouth and Cole. Video games fell on team building, and wouldn't classify as a training warmup.

"Well," Red said, taking a hopeful stab in the dark. "There's not too much space on the deck for... tag..."

Lloyd nodded, looking satisfied. The Not-Ninja looked- well, their expressions were hard to read because of how different it was compared to his friends. But Red was a master of deception (well, fire, but eh, technicalities), and he had them fooled, and he just had to keep it up until nightfall so he could rescue Lloyd and explain in a safe location-

"HE'S NOT KAI!"

Orrrrr improvise. Okay, yep, he could improvise.

Red lunged forward and grabbed Mini Lloyd's wrist from where he had his hand extended in an accusatory point. He ducked under Not-Jay's attempts to grab him- fast, but not as fast as his Jay, his Jay who could disappear from an awkward social interaction in the span of a flickering lightbulb- and dragged his younger brother with him as he vaulted over the railing. Not-Zane almost managed to yank him back onto the Not-ship, but his icy grip caught only empty air as Red pulled Lloyd into a tight hold and ducked.

He hit the dock below with a stumble, rolling back onto his feet and taking off with a very stubborn green ninja in tow. It took all his strength to drag Lloyd (kicking and screaming like he was being kidnapped or something when Red was just trying to rescue him, for FSM's sake. Lloyd didn't know that, but he could still try to be at least a little more considerate.)

The wooden docks creaked and shuddered underfoot and Red grimaced; whoever rebuilt them after the latest Garmadon attack had shredded them like newspaper clearly hadn't wasted any unnecessary change. It certainly didn't help that Lloyd packed quite the punch for someone so small. Red definitely would come out of this with bruised shins and arms from where Mini Lloyd tried to push him away, but it would be worth it to keep his teammate, his younger brother, safe.

Then green filled his vision and broke his hold on Lloyd's wrist, sending him skidding across the dock planks as he was sent flying. When he finally rolled to a stop, neck and shoulder stinging from where the blast had caught him (no burns, just jitters like he'd been shocked), he had to take a few seconds to re-orient himself. Did the Not-Ship have cannons or something? What hit him from behind, so close it could have hit Lloyd?

Lloyd. Was Lloyd okay?

Red pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the bleeding scrapes on his hands and legs from where he'd gotten banged up by the splintered docks. His gaze, sharp and frantic, searched for signs of green. The warning of more blasts, the flash of the fabric of a gi, anything.

He spotted his brother in the arms of Not-Cole. No, no, no-

And suddenly Not-Nya was there, given a boost by Not-Jay. Her grip was as if she were wearing the robotic mech suit, harsh and powerful and near in-human. She threw Red back to the dock floor as her face twisted with the fury of a storming ocean. A resounding crack rang out over the harbour.

Red couldn't tell if it came from the planks under him or his own shoulder.

She pinned him to the wood, barking accusations and threats in his face faster than Not-Jay could talk. Red blinked through a haze of pain, trying to focus on her face and words. She was missing the beauty mark on her face, he noticed. Yet another tell she wasn't his sister.

"-scar on the wrong side-" And it was hard to hear again over the ringing in his ears. He tried to throw her off, get back to Lloyd, anything, but he was-

Useless.

Her hands suddenly got in his face, slamming his left cheek to the wood. She was close- close to his face, close to his eye, close to his scar- pushing and prying as she tried to do something. Red picked up in his struggling, his attempts to free himself turning to desperate shoves and wild clawing like a trapped animal. He wouldn't let this creation of Garmadon's finish the job that teen had started all those years ago.

"Or better yet, he needs to shut his damn mouth."

The flash of a knife. His vision half-blurry. Blood- so much blood- and a lasting scar.

"-contacts-" "-red-" "-struggling-" "-we know what he- it- is already-" "-not the real Kai-" "-wish-" "-Garmadon-"

He had to get away. Get Lloyd away from them now.

In one surge of strength- and yep, his shoulder definitely wasn't okay after that move, as if he'd ripped it not just from its socket but from its very attachment to his body- he knocked Not-Nya aside. If he could’ve seen through the red haze, he might have noticed red embers dancing around his fingertips as his desperation and fear tapped into something deep in his soul.

He tried to shoot to his feet, tried to run for Lloyd (held so tight in Not-Cole's grip, surely they were hurting him, he couldn't let that happen-). He roared, "LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE!", but before he could take another step through Not-Jay and Not-Zane in his path, the docks gave one last ominous shudder before deciding it had finally had enough.

The planks crumbled underfoot like charred firewood in a crackling campfire, and Red was sent tumbling into the frigid ocean water below.

#spbnr #reverse Thanos snap au #reverse thanos snap #ninjago #lego ninjago #same People but not really #kai ninjago

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ekaterinatepes · 3 years

Text

Nothing but the Best

Author Notes: hello again my loves! Thank you for all your likes, reviews and specially your comments! I love it when you make questions and in general let me know what you think about the chapter. Thank you once more for all your support!

XII.

They say time heals all wounds, but there are some wounds that run so deep they refuse to stop bleeding.

https://youtu.be/s1tAYmMjLdY

youtube

A cold September afternoon welcomed the dying rays of the sun, the incandescent amber tones of the twilight illuminated the streets of Tokyo, ever so vibrant; full of life, people, delicious food, kaleidoscopic colors, laughter, children running…. Couples holding hands.

A tall man with a blindfold walked down a heavily transited sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and a small bag of pastries hanging off the side. Slowly, he made his way further away from the more concentric streets towards a park, he found a bench near a fountain and took a seat placing his bag right next to him.

The world remained the same and yet everything seemed to have changed, the days were now long and boring, conversations with people didn’t manage to hold his attention for long; missions were repetitive. Everything seemed… dull, opaque, flavorless, empty…

Everything, except perhaps his students who were the only sliver of hope he had left. Those kids would make it far in life, they were going to change the world and he was going to be there to help them along the way. A sad smile pulls at his peachy lips. You would have liked that. After all, the kids also enjoyed your company back in the day when you were still his. It was as if you had become their adoptive mother of sorts at some point. Your nurturing nature guided you to care for others.

A year ago when Yuuji was placed under his care and tutelage at Jujutsu High it had been hard for the boy. At the time the kid had just lost his only living relative and to top it off he also consumed the most powerful curse ever known to man kind.

He had so much responsibility on his shoulders Satoru couldn’t help but make the connection with himself when he was a kid his age. That’s how Satoru decided to take him home for dinner one night; he couldn’t have been more pleased with his decision. Of course, you adored Yuuji. His sweet snd enthusiastic personality, his polite manners and naiveté made him just endearing in your eyes.

Even Megumi, who barely spoke with his more taciturn approach asked about you. Satoru didn’t know how to answer. The dark haired boy would also come and visit your home to help you prepare some foreign delicacies you loved to cook. Sighing once more he ran his hands through his white hair.

***-Flashback-***

“So where’s Y/N-san? I haven’t seen her in a long time?” Asked Megumi right after Satoru returned from New York. It caught him by surprise

“She… she doesn’t live in Japan anymore” was all he said before changing the subject. Megumi looked at him with eyes wide open but decided not to pry.

Yeah… that probably was weird. Someone asks you about your spouse and you say they moved out of the country. It was pretty obvious what that meant.

***~End Flash Back~***

Sighing he opened the small paper bag containing his mochi, he loved his desert but lately he didn’t even have the will to indulge in sweets anymore. Satoru consumed insane amounts of sugar to stimulate his brain. The problem was that during the past year all that stimulation manifested in the form of vivid memories of you. Your voice, your smell, your presence. It was as if his brain chose to take him down the path to misery, as if to rub on his face what he could never have.

As of last week you were officially not Y/N Gojo anymore. He finally signed those blasted papers giving you your freedom and his capitulation.

It had been one of the worst days of his life.

After signing the divorce Satoru went straight to the liquor store where he found that exotic apricot liquor he liked in New York and bought a bottle. Once he made it back home he proceeded to get drunk out of his mind. The next morning he woke up by the pool, laying down on a tanning chair, wearing only a pair of boxers and hugging your wedding picture.

His head was killing him, at some point he had emptied his insides in the pool. A disgusted grimace reminded him he had to hire some help to take care of the house that was an absolute disaster, faithfully reflecting the state of its owner.

That morning, nursing a hangover he swore off alcohol for the rest of his life.

But hey! On the positive side he didn’t remember at all that night! Which means he ‘probably’ didn’t think about you (yeah right! As if he was ever not thinking about you) and how much he hated the fact you were not his Y/N Gojo anymore. You were not his wife anymore…

The memory made him want to cry like a baby. He lost the person he loved the most in his life because he had been one flaming idiot.

Despite all his efforts he could not forget you. Wherever he went, whatever he did… there you were, tormenting his waking and sleeping hours like his own personal curse.

He tried to get over you. He tried to be the asshole you knew him to be. He slept with so many women he couldn’t even count. But at the end of the night, in the throes of passion it was your face that he saw, your body that he craved, your flavor that he yearned and your name the one he called out when he climaxed.

He was absolutely fucked.

Revisiting memories of the last night he saw you he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been at the time. It took him so long to realize he had always been in love with you but Satoru, being well… himself, he didn’t want to see or admit that he had been head over heels, madly in love with you. He was a cynical bastard and that had cost him dearly. He chose to lie to himself thinking that THE Gojo Satoru was above all human weaknesses… including love. What an ignorant fucker he had been.

He wondered how you were doing and if you ever thought about him.

A frown made his handsome face look stern. Well… you were not alone anymore. Suguru also had stayed back in New York with you. After Satoru returned to Japan, Ijichi told him Geto Suguru wouldn’t be working out of Japan anymore. He had requested a transfer to the Americas.

Of course he did…

It had been one of the reasons Satoru fucked so many women. In his delusional mind he was ‘getting even’ with you for sleeping with Suguru. Not that he knew for a fact you were sleeping with him or not but… I mean….

Come on! It’s mother fucking Geto Suguru we are talking about here! 6’2 of pure sculpted muscles, tattoos and bad boy looks but with a Prince Charming complex. Yeah… Satoru was green with jealousy because he knew his former best friend was a better man for you than he ever was.

Looking down at his mochi bag he realized the small item had paid the price of his anger as he uncurled his death grip from the bag. Sighing he tossed the ruined pastry in the trash can to his left.

“Miss you….” He whispered to the wind.

———–

“I’m home!” You announced walking into your apartment. Setting you bag down as well as a couple of grocery bags “did you start dinner already?” You ask pleasantly surprised although you already knew the answer to that question since all the apartment smelled fantastic. Suguru walked out of the kitchen with a big smile wearing an apron that read ‘Kiss the Cheff’ nods “yes! I figured I would give you a hand tonight!” He answered as you walked to him to wrap your arms around his waist and give him a chaste kiss on his cheek “thank you Sugu. How was your mission?” You asked deciding to set up the table while Suguru finished dinner. “Not too bad actually, it was a special grade but nothing I couldn’t deal with” you returned a bright smile “I’m glad”

Your friendship with Suguru had slowly evolved into something else. You both spent all of your free time together. Your connection was deeper than mere sexual attraction. Suguru truly understood you, cared for you, shared your dreams and hopes. He was the type of poetic soul who would stay awake with you well into the night just to talk about the stars, the book you read that week that you loved, the new music you liked. It was wholesome.

On the more carnal side you desired Suguru and he desired you but you hadn’t taken what was going on between you two further than a few passionate make-out sessions and some cuddling.

After you last saw Satoru everything became worse before it got better. Suguru had been your rock, he had been there for the sleepless nights you spent crying. Without a word he held you in his strong arms and allowed you to let go. He knew you were deeply wounded, your emotions in disarray and your mental stability in peril. But Suguru never asked anything from you, he gave you the strength to go on. To take care of yourself, to keep going with your career. To have… hope.

It seemed like a dream to think that your life had changed so much in the span of a year. You weren’t able to recognise yourself anymore. Pain and duress molded you into someone new, better, more resilient, harder to hurt.

At this point, the only person you fully trusted was Suguru, he was always honest with you, no matter what happened or how much something hurt, he always remained true to himself and to you.

It was impossible not to love someone like him. He was the whole package.

Suguru was handsome, that was indisputable. But Geto was more than a pretty face. He was kind, truly kind! He did things out of the goodness of his heart, not because he expected anything in return. He was honest, Suguru Geto would never lie to you and THAT is what you loved the most about him.

He was patient.

He wanted you to be his but at the same time Suguru wanted you to heal, to have the chance to trust and love again, not as a means to forget about Satoru but because you wanted to choose a new path for yourself.

After diner you helped with the dishes and then settled on the couch. Suguru joined with a smile and two glasses of wine. He handed you one and sipped on the other one “what would you like to watch tonight Kitten?” He asked sitting next to you while picking a movie from the titles available on the screen of the tv.

“Anything you like! It’s your turn to pick” you said with a smile, leaning your head on his shoulder making Suguru smile. These tender displays of affection always made him feel so warm. Passing an arm around your shoulders he kissed your forehead.

You look up into his hazel eyes you blush. Suguru didn’t lose a second before he closed the space between your lips. The kiss was soft but meaningful, you didn’t hesitate to return it; wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to then climb on his lap straddling his hips.

The handsome sorcerer leans back, relaxing and running his hands slowly up and down your naked thighs covered only by the small fabric of your shorts, he strokes them softly leaving a path of warmth in the wake of his touch. Suguru deepened the kiss. His tongue delved in your mouth, slowly inviting yours to join the delicious dance. After a few minutes you pulled back, you are breathless. Your heart beats fast and the adrenaline was making you dizzy in anticipation.

Suguru looks at you, leaning his forehead against yours “I missed you” he ads before engulfing you in another passionate kiss, not even giving you the chance to reply. This time his lips are more demanding, his teeth nibbling your lower lip, requesting entrance. His tongue still tastes like the wine and you recognize his addictive flavor. Suddenly you find yourself laying on your back on the white couch, Suguru is on top of you and your legs are wrapped around his waist. Things are getting much more heated than you anticipated. Your hands roam the expanse of his back over hard muscles and warm skin covered only by the thin layer of his t-shirt. You know if you keep going this way you won’t be able to stop.

https://youtu.be/yBatuRGZAmA

youtube

A part of you doesn’t want this to end, you want to go all the way with Suguru. But… as much as you hate it, there is a tiny part of you that feels ambivalent about it. You wonder why is that you can’t just… do it!? You want Suguru! God! You desire him more than you can express with words, the growing wetness between your legs is evidence that you indeed were very much sexually attracted to him and yet your mind kept torturing you.

It was… complicated.

Your marriage with Satoru have been over longer than that piece of paper you got last week said. But erasing your feelings wasn’t something you could ever hope to do.

As much as you wanted to give yourself to Suguru it felt wrong that you were holding a part of yourself back. You wanted to give him everything, he deserved EVERYTHING of you. It wouldn’t be fair to just have sex with him when he deserved to be made love to.

You love Suguru, everyday that goes by your feelings for him grow and intensify, it was hard to even understand why would you hesitate and yet you did.

Your passionate kiss slowly becomes more tender until you are just sharing small pecks. Suguru pulls back with a little comforting smile; he felt the change in your body language, he knew what was going through your mind. You explained it to him before and he didn’t want to push you. He knew you needed to go at your own pace and he respected that.

“I’m… so-“ you starts apologetically but Suguru stops you with a little kiss “don’t… don’t apologize, I know baby…” he said reassuringly. Sealing his tender words with a kiss. When you separate again he asks “Alright little kitten, tell me… what’s it gonna be? ‘Dorian Grey’ or ‘Only Lovers Left Alive’?” Pulling you in his strong arms he cuddled with you on the couch, returning to the choices for movie you had.

You were so thankful for this man in your life “let’s go with ‘Only Lovers left Alive’”

With a last kiss he started the movie and pulled a blanket over you both.

He could wait, he would wait till the end of time. For you.

———-> Chapter 13/Part 1

Tags:

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@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

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@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

@tampon-earrings

@actualdeemon

#gojo angst #gojo x you #jjk #geto x y/n #gojo saturo x reader #jjk suguru #jjkgojo #Youtube

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

love in a time of p.t.a. meetings {marcus moreno} - 5/5

v summary: you hadn’t expected to find anything at a stupid p.t.a. meeting - but somehow, you found everything {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, one very mild innuendo

there’s a long message at the end but...this is the last official part and i’m very sad about it. with that said, i hope you enjoy❤️

- j

Being a parent was tiring.

So much so that you hadn’t even made it to bed last night.

In fact, none of you had. The entire household was slumped together on the sofa; Marcus was in the middle, with one arm wrapped around Missy on his left side and the other stretched across you and Jack on his right. You’d completely flopped into his chest, with your kid passed out on you in a similar manner. The dogs (plural - but more on that later) were both stretched across the four of you on your laps, snoozing quietly. It had been a long week, clearly; between the school year coming to an end and the hot weather, you were all worn out. It had been a rush of finishing up projects at school, evenings in the pool and ordering take out. Marcus had been working late and your cooking skills were...well, calling them skills was an overstatement in itself.

You grumbled slightly as you woke - why the fuck did your neck ache so bad? Right, because you’d fallen asleep tilted sideways. You probably would have stayed passed out for hours more if it hadn’t been for the sunlight streaming through the blinds. The TV ahead of you had stopped now, displaying an are you still watching Friends? message. You’d started watching it at what...six o clock the night before?

Rubbing your bleary eyes, you sat up. Instead of waking up, Jack simply flopped into your lap, clearly not phased by the sudden movement other than letting out a tiny oof! as he fell. The kid had fallen asleep on the log flumes at Coney Island, so really, it wasn’t a surprise. Plus, him waking up would mean having to get up and make breakfast, which you really weren’t ready for just yet.

‘D’you know what day it is today?’ Marcus quietly muttered.

‘One year.’ You peered up at him, a sleepy smile spreading across your face.

‘So where the hell do you think you’re going?’ He pulled you back towards him, broad arm wrapping around your shoulders to trap you against his chest. ‘Happy one year, baby.’

‘Happy one year.’ You leant up to a soft kiss to his lips.

You stayed like that for a minute, head resting against Marcus as you gently ran a hand through Jack’s hair. It was sort of a moment of...reflection. A lot had changed in the last year and yet somehow, it felt like your life had always been like this. The four of you have had gelled together into a slightly chaotic but ever-loving entity and you loved it. With the combined antics of your energetic children, everything was in disarray practically all the time but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. It had been the thing you’d had all along and the very thing that Marcus had been looking for; you had been the one to bring it into his life and he had been the one to teach you to appreciate it.

The two dogs had brought a lot of chaos into your lives as well. After weeks of Missy and Jack insisting that the garden was too big for just Optimus Prime, you’d ended up traipsing to the dog shelter late on a Saturday afternoon. Bumblebee had become a valued member of the Moreno family within a matter of hours.

‘I love you.’ You murmured. You could feel yourself getting sleepy again.

‘I love you more.’

‘No, you don’t.’ You pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

‘At least that’s the only fight we’ve had over the last year.’ He reasoned. ‘What time d’we have to be at cook out?’

‘Twelve.’ You replied. Glancing at the screen of your dying Apple watch, you squinted at the screen. ‘It’s just gone eight.’

Every year, the PTA threw a cook out on the school field to celebrate the end of the semester. In previous years, you’d avoided it like the plague but this year you were actually excited. The last one had been in the very early stages of your relationship, and you and Marcus weren’t publicly showing affection when you’d been. There had been a lot of lingering glances across the field and knowing looks at one another but this time, you were solid. Everyone knew they were together and like hell where they gonna say things about you when you were with Marcus Moreno. Whether it’s because they’d suddenly got a newfound respect for you or because they were scared into silence by his reputation, you didn’t know, but you weren’t going to complain.

‘Do you want breakfast, hermosa?’ He asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll help-’

Having heard the b-word, Jack suddenly shot up. He was six now (too old, in your book) and just as much of a tiny, evil genius as ever. He’d upgraded from a Chewbacca onesie to an Ewok onesie, so that was something too, and you were proud of him.

‘- what’s for breakfast?!’ He demanded. ‘I want waffles.’

‘Then waffles we shall have.’ You stood up, sticking your hand out to him. ‘What about you two?’

‘I want waffles.’ Missy sleepily murmured.

Jack followed you through to the kitchen, swiping his iPad off the side as he did. Despite the fact you’d put it in a nuclear bomb proof case, he’d still managed to crack the screen. There had also been at least five occasions where he’d tried to take it in the pool. And this was the same kid who’d insisted he was responsible enough for his own hamster.

Marcus breezed into the kitchen a few moments later, pressing a kiss to your cheek and ruffling Jack’s hair as he went by. You heard him rustling around behind you for a few minutes whilst you prepared the food; he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He placed a terribly wrapped gift on the counter in front of you, head coming to rest on your shoulder.

‘Happy anniversary, baby.’ He murmured.

‘Hey.’ You dropped the knife you were holding, turning around to face him. ‘You didn’t have to get me anything.’

‘I know we said we wouldn’t do presents but since you got me a present last night and-’

‘- Marcus!’ You clamped a hand over his mouth. ‘There is a child in the room.’

‘He has his headphones in!’ He protested. ‘Just open it, please?’

‘Of course.’ You smiled.

‘Jack even helped me wrap it.’ He said. ‘And decorate it.’

‘That would explain a lot.’ You replied.

Pulling the paper off it, you felt your heart drop in your chest when you saw what it was.

It was a bright red photo with random doodles in puffy paint; the photo itself was one of you and Jack from when you’d all gone to New York for the weekend a few months previous. You were stood on top of the Rockerfeller Centre, the Empire State in the distance behind you and Jack on your shoulders. You were both grinning despite how windy it was, and his hat had blown off seconds after the photo was taken.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t - ah, dammit.

‘I love it.’ You tried to keep your voice steady, but it wobbled despite your efforts. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’ He flashed you a lopsided grin, pressing another kiss to your forehead. ‘I figured we could hang it up in place of the one he managed to smash last week with the broom stick.’

(He’d recently watched Harry Potter. Don’t ask.)

‘Of course.’ You gave him one last kiss, before heading over to the empty space on the wall. It fit perfectly in the space, right between the photo of Marcus and Missy, and the sign that said 0 days since Jack’s last incident.

---

Four hours later, and after consuming enough waffles to feed a small army, the four of you finally reached the school. Both of the kids seemed excited to see their friends, but you were a little nervous. What if people asked questions about you and Marcus? About your divorce? Or Jack’s behaviour, or whether or not-

‘You okay, baby?’ Marcus had suddenly appeared beside you, an arm coming around your waist. You’d been stood on the sidelines of the football field for way longer than you realised. ‘You’ve got eyes like dinner plates.’

‘I don’t know how to interact with these people.’ You murmured back. ‘They’re all...you know.’

‘They’re all what?’

‘Perfect. And shiny.’ You huffed. ‘Look at their cars! There’s not a dent in sight. And their kids aren’t wearing an Ewok onesie to a cook-out in July.’

‘I think Jack is admirable for embracing his unique sense of fashion.’ You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. ‘C’mon! They’re gonna run out of food if you keep longingly staring at their minivans.’

‘You’re right.’ You stumbled slightly as he dragged your hand, pulling you towards the crowd in the middle of the field.

‘I mean if you want a minivan, we can get one.’

‘Moving to the suburbs was already a big deal for me.’ You grumbled.

Marcus continued to laugh, pulling you closer into his side as you reached the other parents.

Naturally, he immediately jumped into conversation about one of the other dads with...actually, you weren’t really paying attention. You switched off as soon as you heard the word football. One thing you did notice, however, was his ability to be completely and entirely charming with anyone. You lacked that, normally shying away from talking to strangers. Especially strangers who had previously cast you out for being a single parent and constantly given you the side-eye. The only reason they’d stopped was because you and Marcus were together now.

You tried to remind yourself that it didn’t matter, that their thoughts and feelings weren’t relevant. They shouldn’t have been. You had the best guy in the world by your side and two amazing kids. The people most important to you were the ones whose opinions mattered - and they all thought the world of you. Marcus loved and supported you unconditionally, and Missy thought you were a bad-ass. Jack, though probably a little bias, thought you were the best parent in the world. That was what counted.

But still, you couldn’t help but feel a little angry. You’d worked your ass off to get where you were, to raise your kid and make him a semi functional human being. You’d single-handedly kept a roof over both of your heads and provided for your family, even when you’d been married to a dead beat husband.

Things were different now; brighter, happier, filled with more dogs and more love than you could ever have imagined. You didn’t want to linger in the past, not when everything else was moving forward. If anything, being here had just solidified your faith in your relationship. If all you wanted to do was go home and be alone with your partner, then that was a sure sign.

‘Mum!’ You heard Jack from across the field. ‘Can you get my football out the car?’

‘Duty calls.’ You finally spoke. Marcus had noted how quiet you were, having made a mental note to bring it up later. ‘I’ll be back in a second.’

‘Okay, baby.’ He pressed a kiss to your check.

The sun beat down on your back as you trudged across the field, Doc Martens kicking up grass around you. Your outfit was cute at least; a pair of denim shorts and an old tank top with one of your boyfriend’s plaid shirts thrown over the top. You hadn’t even realised it was his until the lingering smell of aftershave hit your nostrils when you got in the car. After that, there was no way in hell you were taking it off.

The car park was around the corner from the field -- it was nice to get away for a minute. Even though you’d simply stood beside Marcus like an older man’s sidepiece at a business meeting, just being in the presence of the people and listening to them talk about their kids was exhausting. At least he had been good at pretending to be interested in their sugar free diets and screen time limitations and how their French lessons were going. You, meanwhile, hadn’t even tried to look like it piqued your fancy. You’d been half-tempted to put your sunglasses on so they couldn’t see you roll your eyes.

Pulling Marcus’ car-keys out your pocket, you opened the boot and began to rifle around. His car was a thousand times more put together than yours, but it still accumulated a bunch of crap.

You jumped backwards when you heard the gravel crunch behind you.

Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes fell on Carol. It had been a while since you’d last seen her, but she looked a little worst for wear. What’s more was that she had a cigarette between her lips, despite being the one to run the entire school’s anti-smoking campaign.

‘I didn’t know you smoked.’ You commented, catching her attention as you slammed the boot shut.

‘Oh!’ She jumped, quickly throwing it onto the floor.

‘Hey, I’m not bothered.’ You leant against the back of the car. ‘A lot of people do it.’

‘I don’t normally.’ She stamped on the remains to put it out, dusting off her bright pink work-out jacket. ‘I’ve just been stressed lately.’

‘Are you okay?’ You raised an eyebrow at her.

‘I’m fine.’

You tossed the football between your hands, giving her a nod. ‘If you’re sure.’

With that, you locked the car and began to make your way back towards the cook-out. If you could wear Jack out by playing with him all afternoon, then you might be able to catch some peace and quiet that evening. Then, you and Marcus could celebrate your first anniversary by ordering take out and watching Friends.

(Which is ironically, what you’d done for the last four nights).

‘Y’know, I’ve always been jealous of you.’ You froze when Carol called after you.

‘What?!’ You turned around to face her, confusion etched on your features. ‘Are you talking to someone else, or?..’

‘No, I’m talking to you.’ She muttered.

‘Why me? I thought you hated me?’

‘Because I was jealous of you.’ She said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

‘Carol, you’re the perfect one here. You’re married to your high school sweetheart, you’ve got a big-ass house - with a gate! - and your kids are perfectly well behaved. And you drive a fucking minivan!’

‘Oh, please.’ She groaned, falling back against the nearest car. ‘My husband is married to his job and my kids are more interested in their iPads than me!’

‘So’s mine-’

‘- you’ve always provided for yourself.’ She continued, cutting you off. ‘Always put your kid first and just did what was best for you without worrying what anyone else thought. That’s..admirable.’

‘Thanks?’ You furrowed your brow. ‘I never really gave it that much thought.’

‘I never thought I’d wish for your life.’ She muttered.

You gently approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. With caution, obviously. You know that she had a tendency to be vicious and bite. Like a chihuahua.

‘My life isn’t perfect.’ You said softly. ‘There’s a difference between happiness and perfect. And if you keep trying for perfect, you’ll never be happy.’

‘That’s deep.’

‘Actually, it’s a quote that you shared on Facebook.’ You snorted. ‘You just gotta appreciate what’s around you. Your house, your kids, your husband.’

‘Maybe you’re right.’ Carol nodded. ‘You’re a good parent. A good person. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel less than that.’

‘I mean...you were an asshole, I won’t lie. You’re nosey as fuck and you got involved with my kid, but I’d probably be doing the same if I wasn’t satisfied with my life.’

Okay, so you didn’t mean for that to sound so rude, but who could blame you? The woman had given you nothing but crap. You’d already felt bad for her, but now you felt worst.

‘C’mon.’ You stuck your hand out to her. ‘You have two lovely daughters and a husband waiting for you back on the field....you family waiting for you back on the field.’

Dragging Carol off of the car, you dusted off her arms and forced a smile. It didn’t make you happy that she was miserable, but at least offered an explanation for her behaviour. The fact she’d envied you this entire time didn’t make up for what she’d done - the rumours the spread, the things she said - but it at least helped soothe you a little bit.

‘Can we be friends?’ She asked quietly, traipsing beside you.

‘...maybe in a few years.’

---

As it turned out, Jack did not pass out early. Instead, the four of you ended up having another night on the sofa -- this time with an extra large pizza, just to celebrate the special night.

Your head had been spinning since your conversation with Carol. You were glad you finally had closure on the whole thing, but it had completely fried your circuits. She was the queen of the hive, the perfect mum, the perfect wife. Her kids wore matching outfits to school and they never had a hair out of place. Her Facebook was filled with family photos of their international vacations and outings to all their activities. Was she not the blue print?

It made you take a step back and look at your own life, which was something you hadn’t done in a while. In fact, last time you’d done it, you realised you’d weren’t happy with your ex-husband.

Now, it was the opposite. You were in love with somebody who was better than you could have ever imagined; he wasn’t perfect - he snored and he never did the dishes and he always forgot to put the bins out - but he was everything to you. You had a kid who, although was undeniably a tiny meddler, you loved with your whole heart. You had Missy, who had welcomed you into her life with open arms and embraced the chaos you brought. You had dogs, and a house with a fucking garden.

You didn’t blame Carol for being jealous because, even though it was from perfect, you didn’t need it to be. You had everything you ever wanted and heck, you would have been jealous of it too if it wasn’t completely and entirely yours.

For the first time all day, you finally had a moment to yourself. You were stretched out across the couch, feet propped up on a pile of cushions; Marcus’ shirt was still on, only now you had changed out your shorts for leggings and your boots for socks fluffy enough to be dangerous on the wooden floors.

‘Hey, baby.’ Marcus quietly greeted you, shutting the living room door behind him. ‘Kids are asleep.’

You gave him a doubtful look. ‘Even Jack?’

‘Okay - Missy is asleep and Jack is on his iPad.’

You opened your arms to him, grinning. ‘I’ll take it.’

Marcus dropped onto the sofa, an equally big smile falling onto his face as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. He wound both of his around your waist, lifting you off of the couch and into his lap. It always reminded you of when you’d kissed on your first date -- it seemed like worlds away now.

‘Has it really been a year?’ You murmured softly, resting your forehead against his.

‘Yeah.’ He shyly smiled at you. ‘I don’t know how I got so lucky.’

‘We both got lucky.’ You reminded him. ‘I got lucky that Carol guilt-tripped me into that fucking meeting.’

‘And I got lucky that you were the person I chose to victimise with my small talk.’ He chuckled. ‘You know you’re my whole fucking heart, right?’

‘Yeah.’ You slowly nodded. ‘And you’re mine.’

You’d completely changed each other’s lives - blown them apart, and used the tiny pieces to rebuild everything back into one. Neither of you had even been looking and you’d still managed to find one another. You’d been hurt before and he’d been patient. He’d lost a lot before and you helped him find it again. What he lacked, you had. What you lacked, he had.

Above all, Marcus had embraced what everybody seemed to encourage; he saw value in the things you’d been insecure about and when he fell in love with him, so did you. In return, you brought an energy and light to his life that he didn’t even know he needed. In one another, you found unconditional love and support, and a feeling of security that you’d both lacked for so long.

This was it. And it was everything .

OKAY i’m actually so sad this story is over -- i’ve written over the course of maybe 2 weeks but when i TELL YOU i have become so attached? u better believe it. if you check out the series masterlist, you’ll see that there’s a few little fics i’m gonna write to fill in the gaps that were in the time skips between chapters, so that’s still something to look forward to!

thank so so so much for all your support on this series; it’s been so much fun to write & your comments are what encouraged me to finish it so quickly.

- jamie xx

taglist: taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles @bitchin-beskar @comphersjost @absurdthirst @mjby @parkjammys @kteague @katdante @vonschweetz @cyarikashakira @mrsparknuts @starryeyedstories

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno imagines #pedro pascal character headcanons #pedro pascal characters

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lucky-catttt · 3 years

Text

Maxwell Lord’s Aphrodite - Pt 1

Summary: When Maxwell Lord’s world comes crashing down, you, his personal assistant bring him back from the pits of despair.

Pairings: Maxwell Lord x Reader (female), Maxwell Lord x You

Rating: Mature 18+ ONLY - I’ve also put a smut alert ahead in bold if you want to skip straight to the good bits ;)

Word Count: 7,381

Warnings: Sexual intercourse, foreplay, mentions of domestic abuse, trauma, drug/alcohol abuse.

A/N: This is my first fan-fic, so the writing might not be fantastic, but if you have any pointers/advice please tell me! I always read stories about Maxwell being a domineering guy and never stories about how he can be romantic and soft. When I watched WW84 especially at the end I saw how emotional and vulnerable he was with Alistair and wanted to write a story that portrayed him as a big cuddly teddy bear under all that masculine exterior. Enjoy!

You’ve worked for black and gold corporation for the better part of 7 years. You were hired as an intern assistant at just 21, soon after the company jettisoned from its humble beginnings inside a matchbox office suite on the corner of a strip mall, to a stock market listed company leasing the top floor in the tallest high rise office building in Los Angeles. Soon after moving in, the top floor office was packed with young, vibrant men and women who helped profits soar. But even at its busiest, Maxwell always made time for his staff. No matter what he was going through, he would give his staff his undivided attention and empathy. If they were having personal or professional problems, he would do everything he could to help. It aligned with his company motto, “life is good, but it can be better”.

He believed it was important to be as personable and helpful to others as possible, he felt that it was imperative to his own success. Only you knew this really stemmed from his less than favourable upbringing, being abused by his father, bullied by his peers and having to work hard for his achievements. He could be having the worst day, but he would never make it known to his team, all except you of course, being his personal assistant. As you spent a large amount of time together, Maxwell confided in and involved you in many personal areas of his life. 6 months after you started working for Max, he invited you and your then boyfriend to his wedding, stealing a waltz from you at the Reception. A year later, when his son, Alistair was born, he would show you picture after picture of baby photos, gushing about how proud he was to be a father. 3 years later when the company had its first day on the US stock exchange, you and Max stayed up all night at the office running through press releases, interviews and planning the next 6 months of his now very hectic schedule. When Alistair would come to the office to visit, you would babysit and play with him, change him, feed him, read him stories and sing him to sleep.

As he started to grow up, you soon rivaled Max in Alistair’s favourite person to spend time with at the office. Two years ago when you ended up in a very bad car accident and broke your arm, Max showed up personally to the hospital looking frantically worried about you. He even brought along Alistair who was helping carry a giant bouquet of flowers, a teddy bear and balloons. He stayed overnight after your surgery, sleeping in the most awkward positions on the single armchair next to your hospital bed. While you were in surgery, he made sure your work health insurance covered every cent and even provided company paid physiotherapy so you could get better properly. You knew you were in love with him since that dance at his wedding, but you had too much respect and adoration for him to be a homewrecker. Plus, you just assumed as he was so involved with all of his staff, that it didn’t mean he would be into you romantically.

As you were required to attend many of the shareholder and CCO/CEO/CFO meetings to take minutes, you became intrigued with the world of business and economics. So you enrolled in a Bachelor’s degree part time through a local University. At the time, women in business was largely unheard of, and to avoid sexist comments and discrimination, you told no one. When the Global Financial Crisis hit, it slammed into Maxwell’s dreams like a meteoroid. Overtime was required at the office and you spent most of your time in Max’s office doing paperwork for staff that had been laid off due to the budget cuts. Each day he would be on the phone, yelling at other business men on the other side of the world. You watched his positive energetic demeanor slowly chip away, as his drinks cart full of spirits and liqueurs dwindled alongside. Not long after, Black and Gold’s Chief Financial Officer and advisors within the company were arrested for Insider Trading and other shady business dealings.

Throughout all of this, you had given Max as much support, personally and professionally as you could, while still being respectful and platonic as he was a married man. With most of the staff gone and the company’s finances in disarray from the GFC and mismanagement, the universe dealt Max the final blow, his divorce. His wife, who was clearly only interested in him for his money and how it could provide her a cushy lifestyle, filed for divorce as the company was failing. She tried to take him to the cleaners financially, but Max was smart enough to have a prenuptial agreement and keep what was left of his dwindling fortune. So she used their son, Alistair, as a pawn in her game. The courts granted Max shared custody, but only one visit per fortnight. This devastated him as his son was his whole world.

He didn’t want to become destitute by giving up his fortune to his wife, but he didn’t want to lose his son, either. It started to tear him apart, leading to drunken nights in his office, alone. Except, he wasn’t totally alone. Every night, after everyone had gone home, you would stay back late each night to check on him and make sure he hadn’t done anything stupid. You would sit in one of the barren office cubicles with a vantage point to his office, but invisible to see from his desk. With tears sitting at the edges of your eyes, you silently watch him drink enough alcohol to chill out a bull, take some pills, flip through photo books of Alistair and start to sob. This went on for months. Overdue bills and foreclosure notices started to pile up on his desk. Egregiously inflated child support payment requests from his ex-wife littered the coffee table in his office.

Today was an exceptionally hard day, Max had received a resignation letter from his second last employee, leaving just you and him in the office. He slept on the futon in his office the night before, waking up looking disheveled, his tie pulled loose, shirt half tucked, suit jacket on the floor and his shoes god knows where. He looked awful.

Night falls, shrouding the office in darkness. Apart from a few desk lights, the floor is cold & dark. As you start packing boxes with office paperwork and belongings, you glance over to see the outline of Max at his desk, with his back turned, silently smoking a cigarette and drinking a glass of whiskey on ice. He reaches back for a brief moment, to press the answering machine, illuminated by his desk lamp. *beep* Message received, Wednesday, 4:33 pm “Hello Maxwell this is Brittany from AMP investments, your lease agreement with us has been defaulted for 6 months now with $150,000 in rent arrears. If it is not paid by the 30th of this month, building management will deactivate access to the floor and repossess any remaining belongings on the property. *beep* End Message. Message received Thursday, 5:43 pm “Max it’s Barb, I’m cancelling Alistair’s visit this weekend, seeing as you don’t want to pay me any extra child support.” *beep* End Message. Message received today, 7:02 pm “Hey Daddy, it’s Alistair, Mommy said I can’t come over because you’re working too much to see me. I wish you weren’t working all the time so we could play together and go to the movies and-“ you hear Barb, Max’s ex wife cut him off with “Alistair? What are you doing on the phone?! Who are you talking to?” Alistair whines, “I wanted to talk to Daddy” suddenly the sound of the receiver slams into the phone. *beep* End Message. You have no new messages.

The office is dead silent, but you can audibly hear the sound of Max’s heart shattering into a thousand pieces. He begins to cry, slowly shrinking in his chair, slumping down with his forearms on his knees and his head bowed. The cries slowly become more intense, with Max gasping for air between the long loud shrieks as his whole body shakes. “Alistair! My Alistair! My boy! I’ve failed you! Your Daddy failed you!” He wails, tears freely flooding down his face and snot dripping out of his nose, both like endless waterfalls. He drops to his knees and collapses onto the carpet, like he’s been shot right through the chest. He continues to sob & wail, forgetting that he isn’t alone in the office. You walk to the doorway of his office, frozen with indecision. Your heart was pounding and eyes on the verge of tears from what you just heard. On one hand you feel like you’re intruding on something extremely personal and maybe somewhat embarrassing for Maxwell, but you’ve never seen him like this and he looked like he was physically dying.

“Mr Lord, is everything okay?” Your soft voice quietly called out from the doorway of his office. Your medicated voice jolts Max out of his catatonic state and into a sitting upright position, as he quickly wipes his face and fixes his hair. “Oh, Ug-I’m so sorry for you to see me like this, it’s quite unbecoming of me” Maxwell apologises, trying to play it off with a light hearted chuckle between quiet heaved sobs. You catch a frozen stare, peering straight into his soul past the bloodshot, weepy but warm, brown irises.

Your heart is thumping hard, as if to try and break out of your ribcage and fly over to him. Max had been there for all of his staff, especially you. You couldn’t walk away after everyone else in his life had abandoned or given up on him. “You don’t need to apologise, Mr Lord.” You slowly reply, stepping over the booze bottles littering his office floor as you walk over to him. He’s frantically adjusting his outfit and hair, to look as put together as possible before you sit down beside him on the floor. You both sit there in silence, with the odd sniffle coming from Max’s nose. You finally pucker up the courage and say “I didn’t want to intrude but I heard the voice messages, I’m so sorry all of this has happened to you, Max”.

He had never heard you say his name before, it was always “Mr Lord”. It felt like honey soothing his dry strained throat as it rolled off your tongue. You continued, “You’ve always been there for me”, you paused to redirect attention, “for all of us. What can I do to help?”. You reach out and place your hand on his. Your warm, soft touch sends a shock wave of emotion through his body. No one has cared about him like this before, let alone touched him in such a gentle way. Max stares at your now teary eyes, realising he can be vulnerable and trust his longest and closest friend.

He collapses by your side, crying into your shoulder “I’m a failure” he sobs “My business, my marriage and most importantly I’ve failed my son. I just hope one day that he can forgive me and love me and be proud of me. He is my whole life, I just want him back”. You start to choke up but you have to remain composed. You look up and away, silently biting your knuckle and blinking tears back into your eyes before responding. “Max, you are not a failure, you are an exceptional human being. You built this company from nothing and you changed peoples lives. And don’t even get me started with Alistair, you’re the best father a kid could ask for, it’s not your fault your ex wife is being abusive”. He continues to sob, so you wrap your arm around his side and let him cry for a few minutes. The smell of his chemically lightened & straightened dark blonde hair filled your nostrils as his forehead pressed against your chin.

His large fingers and palms grip your free hand. They’re surprisingly soft & very warm. You freeze as his touch sends zaps of electricity up your arm and down your body. As Maxwell leans against you, your perfume overloads his senses, bringing him back to a conscious state. What was he doing? He thought to himself. I’m a failure, and everything I get close to fails or leaves. He looks down at your hands. I can’t hurt such an amazing person. I have to rip off the metaphorical bandaid and be cruel to be kind. “Thank you” he sighs, catching his breath after minutes of sobbing “You can go home now. In fact, I want you to take a redundancy payout so you can find another job. There’s nothing left for you here. I’m a failure and I don’t want you drowning with the ship” he says, in a clinically professional voice. Max hands you a company envelope with your name on it. He sits up to take a sip on the remaining whiskey left in his glass.

Your ears begin to burn and your cheeks redden with anger. Tears prick at the edges of your eyes, begging for them to flow. “Alfred will take you home in the company car, or wherever you want to go”. He continues, now smoking a cigarette.

“But what If I don’t want to go?” You whisper, trying to hide the sobs that are trying to break through your voice. “Please, I just want you to be happy” Max replies. You take great offence at his ignorant statements, as if he knows what makes you truly happy. “How do you know what makes me happy, Max?” You huff, standing up abruptly and folding your arms. “Well, I don’t know, but I can’t exactly see how you would be happy staying here while my company fails” he answers, shrugging. You feel your heart begin to break, realising that even being single and having such a close professional relationship with you, Max seemed to hold no deeper feelings for you and was almost starting to turn on you. You stand there wanting to run for the door but trying to think logically. Men are dim, maybe he doesn’t realise your true feelings? Maybe he’s preoccupied with his own and too overwhelmed to face them?

Max’s embarrassment from being caught in such a vulnerable state compounded with offending you takes its toll and he starts to get frustrated and impatient. “I think I just want to be alone now”. He sighs, looking away. The words cut deep, slicing you apart like ribbons. You begin to feel yourself fall apart, your emotions and thoughts spilling out with force. “I can’t leave” you sob, hanging your head in shame. Hearing you start to cry, he starts to hate himself more as he's clearly made you upset. With emotions bubbling over, he stands up, looking at you with tears in his eyes. “Why? Why can’t you leave!?” He shouts, a pained look of frustration and confusion on his face as he puts his hands on your arms, gently shaking you to get you to speak.

The last of the ribbons tying up your words from coming out fall down around you. You look deep into his crazed brown eyes, longing for an answer. “Because I love you!” You blurt out, sobbing. The tension in the room is now thick enough to cut with a knife. “I’ve loved you since the night we danced at your wedding. I fell in love with one of the most empathic, intelligent, hard working and compassionate men I know. You changed my life and every day I wish I could’ve shown you the love & kindness you deserve. That you need”. You step back from his grip, straightening your pantsuit as you compose yourself. “But I guess if I’m not needed anymore, I’ll leave you alone, Mr Lord”. The duality of your emotive declaration of love against the rigid clinical final words lurched his heart forward like a freight train and then slammed against his rib cage with the force of 100Gs.

You start to stride towards the door, but Maxwell follows behind you quickly, grabbing your hand, where you turn around on your heels. He grabs both of your hands and brings them up between you, squeezing them gently. “Pl-please don’t, don’t leave me” he begs, “you-you’re all I have left”. His dark brown eyes shimmer with tears as he shoots you a pleading gaze. He drops to his knees, wrapping his arms around your legs and squeezing tight like he's hanging on for dear life. You stand frozen on the spot, feeling Max’s warm breath on your legs as he heaves a few more cries. As you start to run your hands through his dark blonde locks, the sensation calms your mind and you reach your hands down to cup Max’s face, tilting it up to look at you. “I won't, Max” you say with a concerned gaze. “As long as you don’t push me away”. Max nods silently as he reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out his pocket square. He stands up and starts to gently wipe your tears away. “I’m so sorry” he apologises “I lashed out because I felt like a failure and I didnt want to let you down anymore and disappoint you.” he continues while making sure he’s wiped all of the tears from your cheeks and cleaned up some of your smudged makeup. “You’re not a failure, Max” you reply, “You’re an incredible man and you should be proud of everything you have achieved”.

Max gives you a small smile, blushing slightly as he gently embraces you with his big arms, pulling you close against his chest. His strong cologne masked the slight tinge of body odour from not showering mixed into a masculine and attractive scent. You quietly inhale as much as your lungs will allow, savouring every smell. As he starts to brush through your curls with his large fingers, he plants a small kiss on your head, making you feel like you could melt out of his arms and into a puddle on the floor. “I’m sorry, too.” you whisper. “Sorry for what?” he quizzes, looking down at you, puzzled. “For telling you that I love you. It’s true, but I feel like it was not the most appropriate time to tell you with everything that’s going on with Alistar, the company, your-” Max interrupts your sentence “Come with me”. Max strides you across his office floor with his arm around your waist. You both walk over to an unassuming door, which you always thought led to a supply closet. Upon its opening, you step into the room to reveal a whole bedroom, complete with a dining table, sofa, TV and ensuite. You had been Max’s personal assistant for 7 years and had no idea such a room even existed. “Wow” you manage to blurt out in complete shock. “I had this room made so that when I was working long hours my ex-wife and Alistair could stay here” Max explained, adjusting bits and bobs around the room “Although my ex-wife never stayed. She always accused me of sleeping with other women in this bed when in fact I was actually working. I kind of live here now, having sold my estate to pay to keep the company running”

He gestures to you to sit on the timber art deco dining chair, as he picks up the phone on the coffee table. “Alfred. Can you please take a drive and bring back any decent takeout food you find. Make sure to get some for yourself, too”. Max hangs up the phone before turning on the radio and then grabs two wine glasses from the small bar by the lounge and a bottle of red wine. He places both glasses on the table and fills both half way. You pick up your glass and walk over to the floor to ceiling window, overlooking downtown LA. As Max is fussing over tidying and making the room perfect, he glances over to see you standing alone, looking out the window. Lost in your own little world, you feel Max’s large soft hand intertwine with your free hand. “I started black and gold in a shoebox office inside a strip mall, over there, in South LA” he points just in front of the hills. He pauses. “I expect that after I get evicted I won’t even be able to lease that same office”. You give his hand a small squeeze. “Maybe I could help you”. Max looks at you dubiously. “How do you mean?” He inquired.

Just as you were planning to answer, Alfred arrives with some food. Max walks over to your dining chair and pulls it out, gesturing for you to sit. You take your seat and he flaps a linen napkin into your lap, before sitting down adjacent to you. Alfred had bought some delicious Mexican food, the intoxicating smell of meats, cheeses and spices filling the room. “Thank you, Alfred. I’ll call you again if we need anything” Max smiles, patting Alfred on the back as he leaves. You both sit at the table for hours, eating, drinking and talking about the company. Max finally learns the secret that you’ve been hiding about studying at University. “I haven’t officially graduated yet, but learning what I have, I could probably help Black and Gold get out of its current predicament. I also might know some investors that I befriended in the same units as me from the University”. Max shoots you a soft smile. “You really are the best assistant and friend anyone could ask for” he beams, placing his hand on yours. Embarrassed by his compliment and burning with desire to want to kiss him, you stand up and head over to the couch to distract yourself from your intense feelings. Max realises the use of the word friend was probably a poor choice. He must be honest with you and tell you how he feels. Max joins you on the couch where your arms are crossed and you’re staring ahead. You’re trying to avoid eye contact else you’ll burst into flames.

********SMUT ALERT********

“I hope you don’t think I’m rude or ignoring the impassioned declaration you made earlier” Max smiles “I just wanted to give you a semi-decent first date”. You feel your cheeks begin to blush and you unfold your arms. “The truth is” Max continues, resting his hand on yours. “I feel the same way about you. Even before my ex-wife divorced me, I started to fall in love with you. The way you are with Alistair, how committed you are to helping me. I just didn’t think you’d wanna be with an older man like me and even more so when everything started to go downhill”.

You place your hand on top of Max’s, both now staring at each other softly yet intensely. “Max” you turn to face him, edging closer. Max nervously places his hands on your cheeks. “I’ve waited for 7 years, please kiss me”.

Max finally kisses your lips, setting your whole body alight. Dizzy from the sensation, you lay back on the couch as Max follows down on top of you. He begins peppering slow, thoughtfully placed kisses down your jaw and neck. You let out a whimper as your hands twirl through his hair. Every movement he makes is slow, as if he is trying to slow down time and make this moment last forever. Max comes back up and passionately kisses your mouth, your tongue begging his for entrance. As your tongues intertwine, he holds your head and neck with one hand, while stroking your hair with the other. Max holds you gently yet strongly in his arms, like he’s holding onto a fragile Fabergé egg. With the position you’re in on the couch and the impracticality of your work attire in non-work sitting positions, he senses that you’re uncomfortable.

“May I?” He asks, holding the zipper to your dress as he places his arms behind your back. You nod and he slowly unzips it, gently slipping it off you and carefully folding it over the armrest of the lounge. Overcome with passion and desire from Max’s romantic gestures, you blurt out “I want you to take me, Max”. Without a word, he scoops you up in his arms and walks you over to the bed, placing you down gently in the middle. Max sits at the foot of the bed, marvelling at your stunning body. You’re wearing stockings and a purple lingerie set, coincidentally Max’s favourite colour.

Max leans down and kisses the top of your foot, peppering kisses up your legs before reaching the clips of your garter belt. He unclasps them before rolling down the stockings, kissing back down your legs. Burning with desire, you unclasp your bra and garter belt, throwing them to the side of the bed. Max looks up from kissing your legs to see your breasts exposed in the moonlight, your nipples hard from his gaze.

“Y-you look absolutely beautiful” he chokes before climbing up on top of you to reach your face. You blush, feeling Max’s extremely hard cock straining in his suit trousers against your thigh. “Kiss me, Max” you moan, brushing your lips against his and moving your hand down towards his crotch. Max slowly and passionately begins to kiss you, your tongues swirling in each other’s mouths, the taste of wine and chilli making for a sensual combination. As your hand reaches Max’s crotch, you begin to grope and rub his sizeable length, causing him to let out a loud moan. You shoot him a cheeky sexual gaze, but he grabs your hand and brings it up for you to cup the side of his face. “Not just yet my little dove” he whispers. You pout but decide to put your hands to better use and unbutton his shirt, revealing his strong chiseled chest. Max starts to breathe deeper from arousal as you unbuckle his belt and throw it to the floor. “I want to take my time with you” Max whispers “You’ve waited so long and I want this moment to be everything you deserve. I want to worship and pleasure you completely”.

Your pussy is now completely soaked, the faint squelches from your juices against your panties sounds in the background of Max kissing your neck. Maxwell is more preoccupied with taking his time in a combination of making up for lost time with you, giving you the best first time with him and making this moment last as long as possible. “Guide me” Max sighs between kisses, giving you his free hand. Holding it with both hands, you guide him down your neck and to your breasts. Max traces your breasts, flicking your nipples as he watches you whine with pleasure. Slowly he leans down and begins to suck on them, gently swirling his tongue and flicking. He kisses from one breast to the other, squeezing them in his hand. “Your body is perfect. Your skin is so soft.” he moans. By this time you’re rubbing your thighs together in an effort to stimulate your clit without your hands as they’re gripping Max’s dark blonde hair.

“Max, take off your pants” you pant, becoming overstimulated from all this teasing foreplay. He stands up off the bed and unzips his trousers, pulling them down to reveal his rock hard cock. “Oh Max” you moan, reaching down under your panties to touch yourself as his cock twitches. Max hurriedly crawls onto the bed and back up to your face, pulling your hand out of your panties. He brings your fingers close to his mouth and rubs them on his lips before bringing his tongue out to swirl around them, sucking your juices off them. “Touch me Max” you immediately whimper “I need your touch”. Max moans before kissing you passionately. As you both enjoy your tender kiss, Max traces his hand down your body, over your breasts, along your stomach and reaches the edge of your panties. Max reaches into your panties and gently places a finger at the top of your pussy, gently but firmly pressing down as he traces over your clit and down to your opening. Your wetness has coated every inch of your pussy. “You’re so wet” he pants, the sensation starts to send some beads of precum out the tip of his cock. “For you” you moan, writhing in pleasure at his calculated & lingering touch.

Looking deep into your eyes, Max rubs your folds slowly before he inserts two fingers gently but deep inside you. He begins to switch between a circling and a come hither motion on your g-spot, sending sparks shooting up through your body. You arch your back and let out a moan, while Max kisses your neck. “Oh Max baby that feels so good” you moan, gripping the sheets. “You feel amazing” Max sighs, brushing your hair out of your face so he can study your facial expressions as he pleasures you. Just when you thought it couldn’t feel any more amazing, Max places his thumb onto your clitoris, bringing you closer to climax in a matter of milliseconds. “Oh my god Max, Max I’m gonna cum” you moan into his neck, biting him. Max continues fingering you, intently watching your face waiting for you to reach orgasm.

Between Max’s fingering, his kisses and eye contact it doesn’t take long for it all to send you over the edge, riding into a full body orgasm, squirting all over Max’s hand. “You’re so beautiful baby” Max coos, holding your body close with his fingers still inside you as your back arches and your body trembles while you let out a long loud moan. Despite this exquisite display and sensation happening between your legs, Max keeps eye contact with you, peering deep into your soul, completely enamoured. As you start to come down from your orgasm, Max slowly removes his fingers and sucks them clean. “You taste incredible, so sweet baby” he moans, licking the squirt off his hand. As you begin to catch your breath, Max kisses down your body and reaches your pussy, where he begins to lap up the rest of your juices. Very gently, Max parts the puffy pussy lips covering your clit. He starts to lick in between the folds, avoiding your clit as it recovers from the intense orgasm. He travels down to your entrance where he sticks his tongue inside, tasting your juices inside you.

The hum from his moan as he eats you out relaxes you like a lullaby. Max then comes back up to your face, kissing your forehead. “That was incredible Max” you pant, staring up at the ceiling. He rests his lips against your neck, cupping your breast and gently squeezing it and thumbing your nipple. “Let me pleasure you Max, please” you beg, giving him a pleading gaze. Max obliges as you change positions with him now lying on his back. You cup his face with one hand, giving him a loving smile as his hand grabs yours. He starts to kiss you as your hands both guide down his chest, stomach and reach his groin. You begin to tease him, tracing your fingertips around the base of his cock, then up the shaft. Your light touches cause his cock to twitch. “Your touch is magical'' Max groans as your hand grips his shaft and travels up to his tip. His precum has soaked the head, giving you enough lubricant to slowly jerk your hand up and down, gripping tightly.

The sensation for Max is heavenly, panting and moaning between kissing your cheeks and forehead as you concentrate your gaze on his pulsing cock. Your jerking movements become more intense as you look up to see Max with his eyes closed, like he’s dreaming and if he opens them you’ll cease to exist. You continue to jerk him as you kiss his neck, feeling his cock harden even more and begin to pulse rapidly, like he’s getting close. “W-wait” Max whimpers. “I want this night to be about pleasuring you. Your mere presence pleasures me enough.” He kisses your hand & cups your cheek, looking deeply into your eyes. “What can I do to please you? Would you like t-to make love?”. Your heart bursts with emotion as this man is so set on pleasuring you so much. “Yes Max, I would love that very much” you sigh.

You lay back down on the bed, Max lying by your side. He begins to embrace you, running his hands over your body before kissing down your neck and chest as he rubs your clit. Max stops for a moment, studying your beautiful naked body. He then moves down and pushes your legs up, exposing your pussy. As you squeeze your breasts and look at his chiseled jaw, Max nervously lines up his cock before rubbing it on your clit, soaking the tip in your wetness. Impatient with how he’s teasing you, you whisper “Fuck me Maxwell”. Slowly, he pushes his cock down your clitoris and through your folds before the tip pushes inside. Without even being all the way inside, he moans “this must be what Heaven feels like”. With one gentle thrust, he’s completely inside, shuddering as your warm, tight, wet walls squeeze his cock shaft and tip. “Oh my god Max. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment” you moan, as he starts to slowly thrust. “M-me too beautiful” he grunts, feeling pure ecstasy wash over him as your pussy tenses, massaging his twitching length. A few minutes go by of you both silently staring intensely into each other’s eyes, kissing passionately. With every thrust you begin to connect deeper to Max, your bodies intertwining on a physical, emotion and spiritual level. Max’s cock twitches inside you as he watches you moan and bite your lip, squeezing your breasts.

“I can’t believe you love a man, a man like me” Max says still in disbelief, watching your body motion up and down as he slowly strokes in and out of you. He studies your body intensely, watching the moonlight and shadows play across your curves as your breasts bounce with every thrust. “You’re so beautiful Hermosa”, his mother tongue now coming through “como una diosa, like, A-Aphrodité.” he sighs, cupping your face with both hands. You cover his hands with yours, interlocking your fingers, turning your face each way slightly to kiss his palms and stare back at him lovingly and seductively, feeling like you could float away. “Your Aphrodite” you sigh, arching back slightly in pleasure, gripping his hands to guide them down to your breasts for him to lovingly caress and fondle. In slight shock at your romantic response, he immediately leans down whilst thrusting and peppers kisses all over your lips, letting out a sniffle.

With his eyes closed, focusing on lasting to bring you pleasure and to hide his emotions, a few tears drop onto your cheeks as he continues to thrust, now grunting each time into your neck to cover up the small sobs. You kiss his cheek, to take his tears away, the saltiness turning into sweet nectar on your tongue. “It’s okay baby, you can be vulnerable with me, I will protect you. I love you”. You choke, now crying also. Both sharing a connection transcending physically, in that exact moment, without an increase in volume, the lyrics of the Bob Dylan song playing on the radio seem to stand out and ring true in this very moment;

Storm clouds are raging all around my door, I think to myself I might not take it any more. Take a woman like your kind, To find the man in me. But, oh, what a wonderful feeling, Just to know that you are near. Sets my a heart a-reeling, From my toes up to my ears...

Your foreheads now together, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, Max whimpers “I love you so much” as his whole body begins to tense, signalling he’s on the precipice of an orgasm. Feeling his cock become even harder as it thrusts into the deepest part of your pussy, slamming the extra nerves to unlock your powerful orgasm. “Oh my god Max I’m gonna cum” you moan, slamming your eyes shut as you begin to try and slow down so this moment can last forever. “Cum mi reina” Max pants, keeping the tempo of his thrusting steady as the waves of your orgasm reach its peak before crashing down & flooding your entire body. Your body arches and trembles as you scream “Oh Max!” while your pussy clamping down & releasing in pulses on Max’s cock. The sight of you orgasming tied with the sensation around his cock sends Max over the edge. “Cielo” Max groans, shuddering all over as his cock spurts thick ropes of cum against your sensitive cervix. You both share a passionate kiss as Max’s cock softens inside you. “That was amazing Max” you pant, your body weak from the two mind blowing orgasms Max gave you.

Max collapses on the bed beside you, kissing your neck and running his fingers through your hair. “I can’t wait for us to do that again” Max chuckles against your neck. You kiss Max’s forehead, sighing as your body still slightly shakes from the two powerful orgasms Max just gave you. “I think a shower is in order” He embraces you momentarily before scooping you up in his arms and carries you off the bed, walking towards the ensuite. “Are you ever gonna let me walk again?” You giggle, nestling into his neck. “I like feeling you be as close to me as possible” Max laughs, before your feet land back on the tiles inside the bathroom. Max turns on the water and you both step into the shower, the steam now filling the room. Max has an assortment of body washes and shampoos, ranging from musky to citrusy and floral scents. You step closer to Max as he takes some lavender body wash and begins to rub it down your back, his hands dancing over the rest of your body as he starts to wash you. “I know I keep saying this, but you are so beautiful” Max sighs, running his hands over your ass, grabbing a cheek in each hand. “You’re not too bad yourself, handsome” you giggle against Max’s neck.

You both spend at least an hour in the shower, washing each other, chatting and sharing a few more intimate moments. Soon, the wine from dinner, the warm shower water, the scent of lavender and your fatigue from your orgasms starts to take its toll and you feel your eyelids drooping. Max finishes washing you and grabs a towel to help you dry off with. As your eyelids close completely Max has already scooped you up and walked back to the bed, placing you in the middle before wrapping you up in blankets and placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight my love” he whispers. “Mmmm” you moan, already in a dream state. Max soon gets under the covers with you, embracing you tightly as he watches you sleep, twirling his fingers through your hair. The smell of lavender on your skin soon lulls Maxwell to sleep.

The next morning you wake up, dazed and a little hungover, but well rested. As you look around the room, you survey the many pieces of clothes, miscellaneous items and wine bottles strewn across the floor in a tornado of passion from the night before. As your eyes adjust to the sun, you see Max in an under-shirt and pyjama pants over by the dining table. Max, in his own little world, frantically setting the dining table with some breakfast Alfred had brought up while you were sound asleep. He’s making sure everything is laid out perfectly, straightening the cutlery and pouring Orange Juice and Champagne into a glass from the bar. He hears the cotton sheets move behind him, immediately turning around to see if you’re awake. “Good morning beautiful” Max hums, rushing over to the bed to pepper your cheeks and lips with hundreds of little kisses. “Morning handsome” you giggle, running your hands through Max’s hair, in an attempt to match your bed hair. “Are you hungry, mi amor?” he asks between kisses. “I’m famished” you reply, stretching to help you wake up more. As you writhe around in the sheets you notice you’re wearing a chiffon baby doll.

“I hope you don’t mind I uh, had it in the wardrobe & wasn’t sure if you liked to sleep naked so I put it on you just after you fell asleep.” Max laughs, scratching the back of his head. You blush, feeling embarrassed that you got that drunk, but Max’s reassuring smile makes you feel at ease. “I do usually sleep naked, but I like it, it makes me feel beautiful”. Max sighs “so beautiful”, wrapping you up in a tight embrace and planting a single kiss on your forehead. Max scoops you up and carries you out of bed before you lightly plant your feet onto the carpeted floor. As you glance over to the dining table, Max comes up behind you and helps you slip on a long beautiful chiffon robe, accented with feathers on the hem.

“Another little something for my beautiful mariposa” Max coos, kissing your cheek before pulling out your chair at the dining table. You feel like you’re walking on clouds as you step over to your chair and sit down, Max flapping a napkin onto your lap. “Oh my goodness Max you’re such a gentleman” you blush. “My mother taught me to show women the highest level of respect and care. She made me the man who I am today.” Max replies, looking out the window momentarily. You outstretch your arm across the table to squeeze Max’s hand “And she would be so proud of the man that you’ve become” you beam with a sweet smile. Max soon draws your attention to the diverse spread of pastries on the table, pointing out the different fillings of each and asks if you would like coffee. You nod before noticing a large bouquet of red roses in the middle of the table. As Max places a few pastries on your plate, you feel a sense of intense attraction wash over you like a wave.

Your internal monologue starts to read back to itself, reflecting on how loving, generous and respectful Max is towards you. How much he takes care of you and oh god, how handsome he looks…you start to feel aroused by this somewhat submissive gentleman, sensing a rising heat from your core. Max submitted to your every want and desire last night, raising you up and worshipping you like a goddess, now you wanted to submit to him. Knowing now that you can be vulnerable and honest around Max, you lean back in your chair, biting down on a blueberry pastry.

To be continued..... ;) muahahahaha

a special thanks to the users below for the inspiration and encouragment!

@pintsizemama @anaaaispunk @maxlordsgf @rav3n-pascal22, @pedrostories, @absurdthirst @pedrosbrat

#maxwelllord #maxlord #max lord x reader #max lord x you #max lord smut #maxwelllord smut #max lord x f!reader #maxwell lord x f!reader

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