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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

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I Wanna Be Your Slave

A/N: Here’s the next requested fic from my Dirty Little Secret – Super Kinky List! In which you and Jax are locked in a cellar and he ties you to a whipping post and whips your ass lol. Master/slave roleplay but in this fic (unlike some of my other Kinkfest fics...) Jax is actually a good guy not an absolute asshole. Title is inspired by the Måneskin song at the below link! **Please note the warnings: This fic is all about the kinks, please do not read if this is not your thing!!**

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, rough sex, light choking, degradation, dom!Jax, bondage, master/slave kink, spanking, whipping Request: This Dirty Little Secret request (anon)

Word Count: ~3.8k

Note: As explained in this post, this ‘Dirty Little Secret’ series consists of fics that I had originally written for another character/celebrity, which I’m repurposing for characters of Charlie! So if the characterization ever seems a little off please don’t judge me too harshly 🙂 ALSO note that this fic is just straight up shitty – I wrote most of it years ago without giving a fuck and am not bothering with improving the quality, I sort of used to rhyme back then but not consistently so it’s a shitshow really, I’m just shoving Jax into the setup for this fic with zero context literally, and I realize that the kinks in this fic are totally not mainstream and super filthy, so for once it’s really refreshing that I’m not gonna be sitting around hoping that people will shower my writing with praises or that this fic will explode in popularity 🙃

**Please note warnings above**

Triggering content after ‘Keep reading’ cut…

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

You're trapped in a cellar.

With Jax Fucking Teller.

There's a whole fucking story behind how the two of you got here—some shit involving stolen guns, some rival gang that hates the Sons, your father being all politically significant and powerful enough that you're now being held as ransom—and honestly you should be crippled with fear. But this tall blonde bastard is so fucking handsome. You've been crushing on him for years. And nothing else matters right now when you're so fucking horny for him that you're damn near to tears.

He looks and smells goddamn divine. You know that's not the kind of thought that should be running through your mind. Not here, stricken with fear for your safety. It's crazy. But losing yourself in desire for Jax just feels... fucking unreal. So damn good. Better than it should. It's comforting, or something. Dangerously comforting. In his presence, you don't even care if it doesn't make sense.

Ever since you got stuck in this mess, you've been clinging to him in the darkness. Clutching his flannel-clad arms in a tight grasp which quickly turns into a desperate caress. Through the cloth you can feel the incredible bulge of his biceps and God it's just...

"It's okay, darlin'," he says. Shifts to give you the comfort you crave as you bury your face in his broad sculpted chest. Presence warming and calming. Even after what's happened this morning, you somehow feel safe in the arms of the crown prince of Charming. It's totally fucked to be honest. "Hey, I'll get us out of this. Promise."

The silent answer in your head is beyond shameless. But here with your cheek pressed against his firm pecs... shuddering in bliss as you breathe in his mouthwatering manly essence... flooding between your legs, 'cause he is pure fucking sex... you could honestly just live and die in this man's godlike presence. You bite your tongue to fight the shit you really want to say, keeping it back. Please don't, Jax... don't get us out of this—I want to stay...

Neither of you has any clue yet that you're bound to serve Jax Teller in this cellar as his filthy little slave today.

With one hand still gripping his strong upper arm you reach up with the other, wrapping it over his leather-bound shoulder, clasping at the back of his neck and clinging to his strong sturdy body like ivy to brick. You can feel a faint layer of sweat on his neck that you're instantly dying to lick.

Your senses are reeling. Here, with him as you give voice to a wild irrational fear, you can't deny that dread isn't the only thing you're feeling. You'll take life-threatening danger if it comes with the reward of you and Jax fucking. "... are they gonna sell us as sex slaves or something?"

The hottest sound you've ever heard bursts softly from his throat. It's low and quiet, caught between a breathy laugh and breathless groan. You bite down on your lip then to stifle your own slutty moan. His bright blue eyes meet yours and you can feel the heat burning beneath, and from the way his tongue traces along the edges of his teeth, you can tell the answer to your question is no.

That's not the answer you want, though. It's precious that Jax doesn't already know. Some part of him probably does but hell if it won't take a little more for him to let it show.

You're gonna give him more than just a little more.

With a bat of your lashes, your flirtiest dirtiest smile flashes; you drop to your knees before him like a whore.

"Oh f—" he mutter, too shocked to even utter the full curse, sapphire eyes wide in wonder, "what are..."

"Practice," you purr as you lick your lips, eager hands framing his hips. "If I'm gonna be a sex slave then I think I should practice performing... service..."

Jax sucks in a sharp hiss as you bury your face in the crotch of his jeans, massaging his dick through the denim with your doting mouth till he's harder than he's ever been.

"Practice makes... perfect, doesn't it?" you say as you savor the smell and the feel of his meat. Good enough to eat. "Though you already are, Jax. Every inch of you is perfect. That's a hard fucking fact."

Jax throws his head back, huge cock throbbing with a luscious twitch. "Son of a bitch..."

"Mmm, make me your bitch, Jax. Please. I wanna be your slave. Serve you in every way. It's what the slut inside me needs... and craves..." you shamelessly confess as your hands set to work on his fly to unleash the glory of Jax Teller. "Nothing else even matters today. We're here now all alone together, in this shady little cellar..."

When his cock springs free you could swear that this piece of meat is your entire life's purpose. All set to be worshiped and serviced, because his delicious existence demands and deserves it. He's so. Fucking. Perfect.

You gaze up at his gorgeous face as you melt in his presence, and finish your sentence. "... so let's make it fucking worth it."

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

The first order you take from Jax Teller, as he finally falls into his role as your master right here in this cellar... is to get your filthy hands off of his dick. You are not to touch it till you've fucking earned it. Like a dog, like the bitch that you are, he tells you to just sit.

To stay down on your knees and to not move an inch, not even turn your head as he strides toward the far wall behind you, brutally keeping his beautiful self beyond your field of vision for a minute.

You bite your lip, listening to the footsteps and movements that he won't let you witness. Rustling noises. You hope that he's stripping off his stupid clothes. That when you see him next, he'll be towering over you gorgeously naked.

And God yes, he is, when he returns at last to stand before his bitch. You groan in sheer bliss as your awestruck eyes try to take in every last flawless inch of his smooth, glowing skin. There is just... too much perfection. You couldn't even process the divine glory of Jax in a whole damn lifetime, let alone one split second.

Hypnotized though you are by him, your gaze then shifts to notice what he's holding, and... holy shit. Apparently he hadn't gone to the far wall just to undress.

He had taken stock of the supplies and other items stored down in this shady cellar and he has returned bearing gifts: a coil of rope, long and thick, and a wicked-looking leather whip.

"Like what you see, huh?" he taunts, no doubt referring to both his new toys and his nude body, especially his dick. "Kinky little bitch. Now get up and strip."

"Yes, Master," you blurt out, rising to your feet, hastening to obey his order.

"Bad slave. You are not to speak until I say you can," Jax commands, taking a deliberate step toward you. With both rope and whip clutched in one fist, he reaches to cup your chin with his other hand. "Do you fucking understand?"

Fighting your burning urge to scream yes sir, somehow you keep your lips sealed and just nod your head.

Jax's blazing blue gaze devours your face as his fingers descend to frame your jawbone, then to close around your throat. "That's a good slut. Keep that dirty mouth shut. Or else you're gonna suffer some serious punishment."

Fuck—hearing him talk like this, while he strangles your neck in his dominant fist, is too much. You've become a trembling mess beneath his touch.

"Mmm, look at you shaking. Desperate piece of shit. I'm starting to think that maybe punishment…" he whispers in your ear as he tightens his grip around your neck, "...is what you fucking want."

Oh God, your inner voice grunts, struggling not to say it aloud. In the most painfully perfect way, the fact that he's choking you now actually makes it easier to stay silent.

His husky growl and twisted words are sending waves of pleasure through your body, hitting all the spots you never knew you had and soaking up your cunt.

"Yeah, you're begging for it. Already ignoring your master's orders. Disobedient bitch," he scoffs, shoving you up against a nearby wall, his every movement rough and quick. "Didn't I tell you to strip?"

Before you can even manage to nod at him, still just staring, Jax's hand drops from your neck down to the fabric of the fancy buttoned cardigan you're wearing. Your daddy is rich, so you typically dress like a spoiled little bitch.

"Need me to show you how to do it? You that fucking stupid?" he sneers, suddenly yanking it off you with just a few effortless jerks of his wrist. "Now take off the rest. And then go stand against that beam. Hands on the wood, head down, with your ass facing me."

Jax steps away, sharp blue glare dark and daunting as he watches his slave scurry to obey. In a matter of seconds, your clothes and shoes have been flung off, and you practically throw yourself against the wooden beam, grabbing the jagged surface desperately, wincing as the splinters graze your fingers. Even that sharp little sting feels good, because this is what Jax wanted.

You keep your head bent low, bowed submissively per your master's orders, breathing shallow as you feel his presence coming toward you from behind, steady and slow. A gasp slips past your throat when you feel his calloused hands upon your wrists, binding your hands to the beam with the thick, heavy rope. The knots securing you in place are strong and tight, expertly tied. This must not be his first time doing this, you realize, beyond turned on by his well-practiced dominance. By just what a masterful master he is.

"Mmm. You look so fucking pretty like this," he rasps, leaning over your body with his massive cock grinding into your ass, sliding against the crack so that you can feel the tip of it, swollen and wet, hovering over the small of your back. One of his hands tugs at your hair, arching your neck backward a bit as his lips attack the soft skin of your throat in a harsh, biting kiss. "Beautiful baby girl, all bound up naked and aching to be punished. You gonna take it? Good and hard, just like the slave you know you are? Gonna be a good little bitch?"

His hot mouth teases at the corner of your lips, knowing how badly you want to kiss him, to taste him, fucking torturing you with it. Though his firm grip on your hair is anchoring your head right where he pleases, you're sure that he can feel the way you struggle now to bob it up and down, to give him your wholehearted yes.

"Yeah, that's it. Ever done this before, you dirty whore? This sweet ass ever taken a beating?"

You're not quite sure how to answer that—certain guys from your past have given your ass a few smacks, here and there, when you asked... but you don't know if that kind of thing really counts as a beating. The dynamic with them was never nearly as brutal and degrading. And they had only ever used their hands; no toys or torture instruments.

"Can't even answer the question? Dumb little bitch," Jax snickers as his face moves away from your neck, standing to his full height behind you, then stepping back so that his dick is no longer brushing against your crack, leaving you feeling emptier than ever at his absence. "Not that it matters. 'Cause I'm sure you ain't ever been beaten like this."

Ohhh shit, you think, inhaling through your teeth with a loud hiss as you feel the first soft touch of leather on your skin, his wicked fucking whip. For now he is just devilishly teasing you with it, tracing lines down your back with the tip.

"This what you want, slut? Gonna need to hear you beg for it," he orders, his other hand still tangled in your hair, pulling your skull more sharply back. "Go on. Open that filthy fucking mouth and tell me what you want."

"Thank you, Master," you whimper, letting all your shameless words fall out. "I want you. God, I want you to beat me. Hurt me. Please. I want pain, if it will bring you pleasure, sir. I want my punishment."

"Mmmmn," Jax growls, clearly incredibly aroused, and you could seriously cum just from that sound. "Bet you do, bitch. Let's see just how bad you want it, huh? See how wet you've gotten. Needy little cunt."

You've already been dripping now, for more minutes than you can count. The next sound you hear is a soft thud, which you're guessing is the whip having been cast down to the ground. Jax needs his right hand free to start going to town on your pussy.

The words that have just come out of his mouth, coupled with the feeling of his fingers making contact with your slick mound, sliding over your clit, slipping into your slit and stirring you up, swirling your wet heat around, then plunging three digits in knuckles deep, pushing in and back out slowly first before he starts to fucking pound... this just brings all the walls inside you crashing down. Floodgates in you burst open on the instant as your arousal uncontrollably gushes out. It's killing you to stay silent through all of this, but you don't dare disobey his orders, don't dare make a sound.

"Holy fuuuck," Jax grunts as he pulls his hand off of your cunt. "So wet. Tight pussy squirting all over your master. Such a dirty fucking slut."

He reaches over you to shove his sloppy, sticky fingers in your mouth, your cheek pressing against the wooden beam, as you obediently suck them clean. You're not usually one to enjoy your own flavor that much, but fuck, it tastes better than ever now that you are being fed by him, the sex god of your dreams.

Then as soon as his fingers pull out, he leans in and angles your head toward him so that he can kiss your mouth, and holy—wow.

You know right away that you could never get enough of the feel of his full, luscious lips against yours, the taste of his talented tongue as it fucking invades and explores. He hums and groans into the kiss, sending resonant vibrations of his dominance down your throat and all over your mouth, and damn, you kind of really want to die right now.

But you don't. Of course, not yet. More than anything you're still desperate for your punishment.

"Fucking perfect little slave," Jax snarls as he pulls away, and you can hear him squatting down behind you to pick up his whip.

Before he does, while he's down there on his haunches, he takes the chance to manhandle your ass cheeks, groping firmly and then biting down on one of them, pausing to admire the mark that he made on your flesh with his ravenous teeth, then giving that spot a wet, open-mouthed kiss, and finally a sharp, stinging slap. Your knees buckle from how much you fucking liked that.

"Slut," he chuckles as he gives that cheek a few more smacks, each harder than the last. He makes sure to give the same sweet kinky treatment to the other cheek, biting and kissing then spanking both halves with his big, sturdy hands before he finally picks up his whip, one palm still groping your ass as he stands.

"Ready to feel this whip lashing your pretty little ass?" Jax dominantly asks. "Tell me, slave. How many do you want."

You're so blissed out right now that you barely have control over your lolling tongue. "Uh... uh—a lot."

"That's not a number, slut. Give me a number you can fucking count."

"Ughhhh..." you groan out as he trails the strip of leather wickedly against your ass, "...umm, a hundred?"

A soft laugh escapes his throat. "That's cute. You must be new to this, darlin'. I'm not about to beat you dead."

Some part of you right now kind of likes the sound of that. Which is maybe... sort of... bad? Jax is still talking, so for better or for worse, you don't have time to dwell on that.

"I can do a hundred. But only if each one is... weak... and soft..." he tells you, bending over your body to press his lips against your face again, kissing your cheek, tender and sweet. "Is that what you want? Or does this filthy bitch want it hard?"

His mouth has descended to bite down on your neck as he says it, causing you to cry out in bliss. "Fuck yes, please—hard!"

Jax huffs out another sexy little laugh. "That's what I fucking thought. I'm gonna give you ten to start," he offers, leaving wet kisses on the smooth skin that he'd bitten. "Ten nice and hard. That sound good, baby girl? And you just tell me if you want more. Or... if it's too much, if you ever want me to lighten up, or stop—"

"I won't," you blurt out. "God, Jax, I want... I need you to just fucking beat my ass off."

"Mmmn. Babe, you are fucking amazing, you know that?" he growls, fondly nuzzling your neck for a second before he pulls back, standing behind you, with his rock hard cock once again hovering over your crack. "But Jax ain't my name right now. Is it. What do you call me, slut."

You cringe at your own unforgivable error. "Master. I'm so sorry, sir."

"Yeah, you better be, bitch," he snarls, as the whip that has been gliding delicately over your body suddenly lifts away from your skin. "Fucking take it."

Holy—fucking—shit. The sharp, searing pain that you feel in that instant is so goddamn perfect. Electric, explosive, exquisite. Everything Jax is. Your life as you know it is finished; you live only to serve and to worship this god of a man who deals out such sweet punishment. You love it. You love him.

The rugged velvet sound of his voice in this moment just deepens your love for him, heightens your pleasure. "Count 'em for me, whore," he orders ruthlessly. "Want more?"

"One... Thank you, sir," you sigh, hazy from the incredible high. "Please, Master. More."

For a hell of a long time, Jax gives you everything you beg him for. And every second of the pleasurable pain is so damn dirty, so damn pure, completely perfect. But you both know that, given what a desperate slut and dedicated slave you are, you will literally never want him to stop. So Jax is the one who hits pause, when he decides he should.

You never wanted it to end, but this is what your master wants—so as much as it saddens you, still you just give in, and still it feels good.

"Damn, baby," he breathes, dropping the whip, gently kneading your ass as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses up your spine with his soft, sinful lips. "Guess I should've known better than to ask you for a number. Such a good little slave. But we're gonna stop here, okay?"

"Yes, Master," you whisper.

"You know why we're gonna stop?" he teases as his mouth reaches the back of your neck. "It's not just because I'm done with beating you. Nah, the real reason is that... there's something even better I've been dying to do."

Part of you already knows what it is. And all of you wants it. Needs it.

Jax tilts your head to claim your mouth in a kiss, as his huge dick aligns with your soaking wet slit. "Mmmn. That's it, bitch," he moans into your lips. "Gonna fucking fuck you."

Every damn thing about Jax Teller is literally magic. So, as his massive cock basically breaks your body in half, as his heavy balls slap up against your cunt with each ferocious thrust so hard and fast, as his dominant hands grope and grab all over your just beaten ass... every inch of you feels so damn blessed upon contact.

You can't imagine any better way to recover from your punishment. Not that you ever really want to recover from it—mostly you just want more and more of it—but no matter what you want, healing is what you need.

And Jax heals just as well as he hurts. Even better, in fact.

Once he's done fucking your pussy rough and dirty, shooting his divine cum deep inside you just the way you beg him to, he unties your ropes and then spends the next hour or so kissing and caressing and cuddling with you, massaging your ravaged ass cheeks with his hands and mouth, taking you to heaven when that sweet mouth eats you out, and even when he lets you worship his cock the way you've been dying to do, even when he grabs your head and fucks your face before he explodes down your throat, even then it still feels like healing. You both really needed that feeling.

He lifts you up to kiss you, deep and slow, on the lips before you are even done swallowing his cum. You let yourself drown in that beautiful face, hoping that Jax knows how damn good he tastes. How perfect he is in every way. That he is a fucking god, that everyone on earth should kneel before him as his slave.

When the kiss finally ends, as you both try to catch your breath for a few seconds, the cold hard fact of your predicament sets in again.

"We should probably put some clothes on, babe," he says, coming down from the high of his sex-heated haze. "Then I've gotta work out a way to escape."

You can tell that Jax sincerely meant it, when he'd promised he would save you from this place, and you don't doubt it for a minute.

Still, there's no denying that you two are stuck in the middle of some serious deep shit. But after having experienced such punishment and pain and pleasure, such submission and service, such sex and love with Jax Teller, today down in this cellar—which you're pretty sure would not have happened under any other circumstances ever...

"Well," you sigh, breathing in his scent for what you hope won't have to be the final time before you die, "whatever happens next, Jax, this was..."

"Definitely," he cuts in to interrupt you with a few passionate kisses, then smiles down at you so devilishly it's delicious. So hellish it's heavenly. Finishes your sentence and it's just so fucking perfect. "Fucking worth it."

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

… Sooo I know that was SUPER kinky shit, but I hope there are some filthy bitches who enjoyed it, and would love to hear if you did!! 😅❤️

– Main Masterlist

– Dirty Little Secret Masterlist

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

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bigboomboi · 4 years

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Sparks~ Denki X reader

Words: 3984

Warning: Smut, oral sex (fem receiving), dry [wet] humping, ack idk, it’s not too dirty... think, everyone involved in sexual acts are aged up to 18.

"Y/N…"

Thump. Thump. Could she get close enough to count all of his freckles?

"Y/N."

Wow, he really had the cutest laugh. Thump. Thump.

"Y/N, I swear to god."

Thump. Thump. Did he know how attractive he was? Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Y/N! Stop hitting me with your fucking tail!" Jirou snapped, grabbing the fluffy appendage beating wildly against her leg.

"Ow, ow, ow." Y/N yelped trying to pull her tail away.

"Jirou, let go of her tail. You know it's sensitive." Uraraka scolded, not looking up from her homework.

"Yeah, well so is my thigh! And miss foxy is bruising it with her heart thumper!" Jirou huffed.

Y/N whined and tugged her tail again. "I'm sorry, please let go."

Jirou gave her tail a warning squeeze before releasing it. "Hit me with it again and I will yank it."

"Be nice." Uraraka hummed. "She can't help it."

Mina laughed. "Yeah, she sees Wattage boy and gets so excited her tail almost flies off."

Y/N whined and tucked her tail around herself. "That's not true."

"Yes, it is." The girls replied.

"Mean…" She huffed.

"We wouldn't tease you so much if you weren't so head over heels for him." Toru giggled.

"I'm not head over heels for him… I just… like him… a bit." Y/N shrugged, willing herself not to look over when Denki laughed.

"Sure, you're not." Mina laughed and Y/N blushed.

Momo gently patted her head, while standing to grab something. "It's okay, Y/N."

"Yeah, we understand; you're in love with him!" Toru corrected.

"No, I'm not." Y/N huffed.

"Guys, leave her alone." Uraraka warned.

"No, watch!" Jirou snickered. "Hey, boys!"

"Stop it." Uraraka finally looked up, glaring at the punk teen.

"Wanna join our study group, we're gonna work on the history homework next!" Jirou offered, a teasing smile hiding on her lips.

"Oh, I totally forgot about that!" Kirishima said. "Thanks, J!"

"I was trying to forget about it…" Denki groaned. "I suck at history."

"That's fine, Y/N's great at history!" Mina piped.

"Guys, stop it." Uraraka snapped quietly, so as to not alert the approaching boys.

"Yeah, she's got a B in the class, right, Y/N?" Toru added.

Y/N tried to calm her erratic heartbeat as Denki came closer. "Um, I, an A… I have an A…"

"Perfect. Here, Sparky, take my seat." Jirou offered, standing up.

Uraraka watched as Denki happily took the seat next to the jittery girl, seemingly unaware of her nerves. Sero, Kirishima, Ojiro and Midoriya filled in where they could. They all actually started to work on the history work, but the girls could only really focus on Y/N and Denki. Mina even situated herself sideways on the couch to push the two together.

Uraraka grew irritated watching Mina literally shove them together. Y/N genuinely tried to help Denki through the work, but the closer she was pushed, she was nearly in his lap. He didn't seem to mind as he shifted letting her move closer.

His arm ended up draped over the back of the couch behind her and her tail began thumping again. Of course, the girls noticed. They locked eyes with each other, not heeding the glare Uraraka gave them.

"What's got you so excited, Y/N?" Mina laughed, pulling all the attention to their area. "Your tail is gonna smash through the couch with how hard you're swinging it."

The object in question stiffened straight and the girl it was attached to turned redder than a tomato and that was the last straw for Uraraka. "Alright, guys. Sorry to leave so abruptly, but I forgot Y/N and I had things planned today."

Y/N looked up at her best friend with thankful orbs. Uraraka started walking away, gently beckoning Y/N with her hand. She hopped off the couch and hurried to follow, waving a shy farewell to everyone.

Once in Uraraka's room Y/N crawled into her friend's bed and whined pitifully. Uraraka sighed, and went to her closet. She started tugging out blankets and tossed them to the bed.

Knowing Y/N for three plus years, she knew how to make the girl feel better. Y/N's quirk manifested as a Kitsune, fox spirit, several tails, godlike powers. The whole nine yards.

With anxiety.

"Y/N, babe… don't burrow into my actual bed, please." Uraraka pleaded gently. "You know they were only teasing, sweetheart."

Y/N huffed and peaked out of her newly made fluffy cave. "You're the one that got angry."

Uraraka sighed deeply. "Yeah, you're right. But I couldn't just leave you there… you were going to implode."

"I kinda wish you did." Y/N mumbled. "It was the closest I'd been to him, probably ever."

"They were forcing you into his arms, babes." Uraraka gently rubbed her head.

Y/N sat up and pouted. "I liked it."

"Then talk to the boy!" Uraraka laughed. "You absolutely are head over heels for him and we all know it!"

"Yeah, except the boy in question.” Y/N panicked.

Uraraka rolled her eyes. "Just talk to him if you want to be with him. Like flirt with him, that's kinda how relationships become a thing."

Y/N whined again and curled into the blankets. "Fine. I'll try. But, I get cuddles, right now."

As promised. Y/N did try to talk to Denki. Now, trying and succeeding are two very different things.

Of course, she spoke to him, asking for pencils in class, communicating during group work, the occasional comment in a conversation at lunch. But talking as in flirting and trying to relay the fact that she had a crush on him- yeah, no. Didn't happen. At all. All she managed to do was stress herself out.

Which brought her to her current situation.

"Get back here you muti-tailed little fuck!" Bakugo screamed chasing the tiny fox around the dorm.

Y/N let out a screaming bark and dodged the angry pink haired teen. She slid across the floor, just narrowly escaping Bakugo's blast. She leaped over the couch and into Uraraka's lap for protection.

"I'm going to strangle you, you tiny little shit!" Bakugo growled, glaring at the four legged Y/N.

"Let's not threaten people's lives he...re…" Uraraka trailed off looking up. "Oh my god."

"Woah, dude. When did you decide to dye your hair?" Kirishima asked.

"I didn't, the fox bitch put dye in my shampoo!" He snarled. Y/N snickered, her laugh pissing him off more. "Yeah, you won’t be laughing when I blow off your extra tails!"

"I don't know, I think she did you a favor. Pastel pink, it really makes your eyes pop." Sero chuckled, before dodging the couch pillow aimed for his face.

"Oh, come on. Don't be too upset, you know her pranks are never hurtful. It's probably temporary anyway." Momo giggled.

Y/N laughed again but Bakugo narrowed his eyes at her, effectively shutting her up. She looked over at the few classmates sitting around her, silently begging for help. Each one adverted their eyes, playfully.

"Oh, no, Y/N, you got yourself into this mess.” Uraraka flicked her ear.

Y/N begged and whined as Bakugo glared harder at her. She wiggled herself closer to Uraraka’s chest while steadily eyeing her exit. The exit that was blocked by the new pink haired teen as he already calculated her plan.

Idiot. They were in the hero course.

Y/N turned and looked at another way out, she’d have to haul ass, but she could probably make it. She slowly crept up onto the backrest of Urarka’s chair, keeping eye contact with Bakugo, cautiously. Three solid seconds passed before she bolted.

Bakugo cursed and followed after her. She scurried across the room quickly, yelping when his explosion singed her tails. Her escape, the open door, was feet away, but Bakugo was closer.

Suddenly she turned to her left just before she reached the door. She tumbled across the floor as Bakugo tried to alter his course but instead slipped and tumbled out the door. Y/N scrambled up to run in the opposite direction towards the dorm rooms.

She only had a slight advantage; she already heard his footsteps pounding up the stairs after her. She hurriedly ducked into one of the rooms left open, thankfully, and pushed her body against it to close it. She held her breath as he passed by the room.

After a few moments of hearing his shouts and explosions fade, she let her lungs function again and collapsed dramatically on the floor. Y/N looked around, wondering whose room she found refuge in. It was bright, a bit all over the place. Maybe a boy’s room, from the look of the shorts she found. She pawed at the article of clothing straightening it out. She looked at them, closely, slowly she leaned down to sniff them.

Suddenly, she yipped in fear and jumped away from them as the door swung open, landing on the bed. Y/N blinked at the startled electric centered boy, her tiny fox form looking completely out of place. Of course, in the midst of running from Bakugo, she found her way into Denki's room.

“Not that I’m complaining, but, uh…” Denki finally asked. "Y/N… Why are you in my room?"

She sat quiet, she was unable to respond without shifting back, but, that thought was put on the back burner as she noticed he was shirtless, droplets of water sliding down his chest. Out of pure and uttermost adoration, and slight arousal, her tails started to thump aggressively against his pillow.

Suddenly, Bakugo’s shout was heard throughout the hall and Y/N’s tails fluffed up in fear. “I’m going to assume that’s why you’re hiding in my bed, pup?”

Y/N whined and jerked her head in agreement. He laughed and closed his door completely, just in time for Bakugo to walk past. Y/N wiggled herself lower into his bed as he migrated over to his dresser.

“You gonna change back, cutie?” Denki asked pulling out a shirt, he chuckled when she shook her head. “As much as I enjoy having the foxiest little babe in the world, in my bed. I’d rather be able to talk to her.”

Still she kept her fox form and restrained herself form bounding around the room at his flirt. She knew he was a natural flirt with everyone, but it still made her heart hit harder in her chest when his words were directed at her.

“Okay, how about this. You can stay if you shift back?” He bargained, sitting on the bed.

That wasn’t fair… she wasn’t ready to leave yet… Y/N narrowed her eyes at him and shifted back into her human form. “Hi.”

“There you are beautiful.” He smiled, leaning down to brush her hair out of her eyes. “I would’ve let you stay anyway, just so you know.”

“So, you just wanted to see my titties.” She teased without a second thought.

Denki smirked, glancing down at her sports bra. “Not the intention, but I’m not complaining.”

His proximity rendered her stupid, but excited. He leaned closer to her and she tried to lean back but she hit the wall. His hand still sat warmly on her face, doing nothing to calm her pounding heart, she wondered if he could hear it.

“Your tail is thumping hard, babe.” Y/N almost felt her tail pick up speed at the pet name.

“It, it happens when I’m excited…” She whispered.

“Good to know.” He nodded, slowly inching closer. “What’s got you so excited?”

She glanced down to his lips and bit her own, losing herself in the fantasy of just closing the distance between them. Soft, warm pressed against her own. Yes, please. Her short daydream was interrupted when his thumb brushed over her lips, gently freeing her bottom one free of her teeth.

“Don’t bite that lip, I want that job.” He ordered softly, making her whimper. Y/N flushed, thinking over his words, she could tell he was waiting for her response, but she couldn’t seem to spit out the words of agreement for the life of her. For some reason it seemed too easy, so instead-

“Then do it.”

She gasped as he surged forwards, crushing his lips into hers. She moaned into his mouth, her hands gripping his shoulders for support. Out of all eighteen years of her life, she’d never had her breath stolen like he had done. True to his word, Denki caught her lip with his teeth and tugged it gently, relishing in the whimpered moan she rewarded him with.

Y/N’s hand found new purchase in his hair, gripping tightly and the growl he let out sent pulses straight down to her core. She pulled again and fell dizzy when he grinded into her, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs. He left her lips in favour of kissing down her neck, gently nipping along the way. She tugged his hair and jerked against his hands, trying to reconnect their lips, but a sharp bite under her ear halted her attempts.

“Don’t do that, or I will fuck you before I get the chance to take you on a date.” He warned, soothing the purpling mark he left behind.

She whined and tried lifting her hips again, despite his hands holding them down. “A- a date is meant for get to know the person you’re seeing. We’ve known each other for years, Denki…”

“I want you to be my girlfriend, not just a fuck.” He muttered trailing his lips across her clavicle.

“Yes.” She breathed, slowly losing her mind. “Yes, like three years ago.”

Denki chuckled. “If I had known that I would have asked three years ago.”

Annoyed with the lack of attention on her lips she yanked his hair again, this time successfully pulling his head up. “I wasn’t hiding it; you just might actually be an idiot.”

His hand suddenly circled her throat, squeezing the sides warningly. “Don’t be a brat, now.”

Y/N moaned in submission, but still, she tried to keep the boldness she had before. “N-not my fault you weren’t paying attention…”

He smirked, hearing her voice waver. “You’re so cute when you act tough, honey.”

“Fuck, just kiss me, please.”

Denki complied to her request and kissed her again, his hand slowly sliding up her sides to brush the sides of her chest, only fully grasping her mounds when she arched herself forwards presenting them to him. His tongue drifted across her lips, politely asking for an entrance, which she happily granted him. The sweet taste of him flooded her senses, nearly drowning her and making her head spin.

She teased his tongue with her own, playfully, with no actual intent on trying to win the battle. He groaned, squeezing her breasts hard, before flicking over the harden peaks trying to pierce through her bra. Once again his lips retreated and migrated down her chest, nipping and biting marks all the way down.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, fingering the fabric separating him from her softness.

“Please.” She panted, tugging at it herself.

As soon as her breasts were free from their confinements, he let his teeth sink into her supple flesh, making her arch into his mouth. “You’re so soft, baby.” He breathed against her.

The compliment made her blush. “Th-thank you…”

“Do you trust me?” He asked, confusing her.

“What?” She gasped.

“Do you trust me?” He repeated, sticking his tongue out for her. Sparks flittered over the wet muscle.

Y/N nodded softly tugging his head to her chest. “Yeah, yeah. Yes.”

Her gasp would’ve made him pull his lips off her nipple to ensure she was alright, but only if it wasn’t followed by a sweet moan. Really it just encouraged him to tease them further. But, when he bit down, the pleasurable pain sensation shot straight down to the apex of her thighs combining with another pressure there. It was then that realized the fingers that snuck under her shorts, pressing deft circles into her clit.

A soft whine left her lips, her hips jumping against his hand, and just about lost cried when a single digit slipping into her briefly before retreating to toy with her clit. “Denki, I swear if you don’t do something more I’ll- oh my, fuck!”

Two fingers plunged into her heat, curling against the soft spot hidden inside her. “What was that, princess?”

“Ah, Denki, please.” She whimpered when he removed his fingers again.

“Shh, I got you.” He assured, tugging her shorts down, revealing an adorable pair of underwear covered in sunset clouds- a small bow at the top. “Cute panties.”

Y/N blushed and moved to cover them. “I… I wasn’t really expecting this so, um.”

Denki rolled his eyes and pushed her hands out of the way. “I’m pretty sure I just said I think they’re cute.”

“Cute isn’t sexy.” She argued as he made his way down her body. He bit down on her hip, pulling a hiss of pleasure from her mouth.

“I think you look sexy in anything.” He admitted. “Sweatpants and a tee shirt, your hero costume, the school uniform. Anything.”

“I’m pretty sure that last one is a kink.” She giggled.

“Mmm, probably, but,” Suddenly his mouth enveloped her clit through her panties and her hands flew to his hair, a cry escaping her. “I’m not wrong.”

He tugged her underwear off, spreading her thighs a bit more. He wasted no time re-attaching himself to her bundle of nerves. Groaning at her taste, he spread her lips and licked into her with so much earnest, you’d think he was starving.

Moans and whimpers fell from her lips, eagerly encouraging him further. He tightened his grip on her thighs, pulling her closer to his face. “God, you taste so good.” A moan echoed into the room when she tried to thank him, courtesy of the long fingers drilling into her. Her finger tugged at his hair, although she wasn’t sure if she wanted to push him away or tug him closer, the pleasure spike nearly being too much for her.

Denki pulled away from her core, panting. “Come on, baby, I can feel you clenching on my fingers. You’re so close.”

“Shit, D-Denki!” Tears welled in her eyes, her hips thrashing against the hold he had on her hip. “I, I- Oh my god!”

He nibbled soft love bite into her neck, picking up his pace, before whispering in her ear. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

One final press on her sweet spot pushed her over and her body bowed so tightly, Denki was almost afraid she'd snap in half. He was quick to cover her mouth with his, swallowing her cries. His fingers slowed, easing her down from her high, only fully pulling out when her hips started shifting away from his ministrations.

Y/N allowed him to maneuver her body on top of his, cuddling her to his chest. He gently rubbed her back, while she caught her breath. “You okay, cutie.”

“Sorry, for hiding in your room.” Y/N apologized.

“My face was just between your thighs, and that’s the topic of conversation?” He laughed.

She hummed, nuzzling his neck. “There’s not much to say for the other subject… I can’t feel my legs.”

Denki snorted, hugging her closer. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Wait, you didn’t cum.” She realized sitting up.

He gently traced up and down her sides, grinning. “That’s okay, that can wait until after our date I’m taking you on.”

She pouted down at him. “Why not before and after…?” Her question brought more life to his cock that already strained against his shorts, but he shook his head.

“It’s okay, babe.” Still she pouted at him for a moment, thoughtfulness swimming through her eyes. Suddenly, she scooted back, sliding downwards until she was pressed against his hardness.

“Please, I want to help…” She begged, softly grinding on him.

“Fuck, princess.” He groaned, his head falling back.

She felt him twitch and pushed herself harder against him. With each roll of her hips, her slick soaked through his shorts. He grabbed her hips, helping her move against his low curses escaping him. Finally, Y/N grew tired of the dry-wet- humping and raised her hip to tug his shorts down.

“Babe-.” He breathed, ready to make sure she didn’t feel pressured into it, but she stopped him with a whine.

“Please, I want you in me.” She pleaded, just hovering over his tip.

Denki nodded and watched as she slowly lowered herself onto him. He sucked in a breath, forcing himself to keep still, despite the intense urge to bury himself in her, he didn’t want to hurt her. Her head fell forwards in pleasure feeling him stretch her out so nicely. Denki was quick gently massaging her sides as he whispered soft praises to her. “You’re doing so good, babe. Relax.”

Finally, she was fully seated on him, trying to take a moment to adjust, but the fluttering of her heat broke his will and he gave a sharp thrust into her. She cried out, clamping down around him, walls rippling and juices soaking him further.

Eyes wide with lustful awe, “Fuck… Did you just cum?” He asked, redundantly.

She shuddered and panted. “N-not, oh god. Not my fault.”

He rolled them over with ease, staying inside of her and growled into her neck. “You’re so tight, fuck...”

He slowly retreated from her warmth before plunging into her. A gasping moan tumbled from her lips as he repeated his actions and she tried to lift her hips to meet him. His pace increased and he nip at her neck, lifting her legs up to wrap around his hips.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Taking my cock so well, shit.” He praised, drilling into her harder.

“Denki… I-!” Y/N’s sobbing moan and tightening walls alerted him that he had found her soft spot. “Gonna cum, gon’cum. Please, please, please. Oh my god!”

Her admission sent him into overdrive, he pulled one of her legs over his shoulder and pounded into her at a pace that sent her eyes rolling back. Her nails clawed down his back, the overstimulation making her seek out some sort of support.

“Let go, baby, I got you.” Denki kissed her cheek and trailed his hand down to draw messy shapes on her swollen clit.

It all soon became too much, and she felt the familiar knot forming in your abdomen once more. She clenched around Denki and after a few more pumps her legs started to tremble as her final release washed over her. He was quick to pull out, emptying himself on her stomach, groaning deeply as he finished.

After a moment of admiring Y/N’s fucked out state he got up to retrieve a warm towel to clean her up. She hummed as he kissed her as he cleaned her, before finally coming up to connect their lips. It was softer than the most previous ones they shared but it made her heart pound just the same, maybe even more.

“Mmm,” Y/N tapped his shoulder, pulling back. “Can we roll over, I’m lying on my tail.”

Denki chuckled, but complied, rolling onto his back, pulling her onto his chest and draw soft circles in her back. Her tail waved contently, tickling his skin when it brushed across his hand. Slowly, they drifted off, their heartbeats lulling the other half to sleep. Well, almost to sleep.

“Sparky, you see the Yokai anywh-!” Bakugo threw open Denki’s door, scarring the fuck out of both naked parties.

Denki instinctively pulled the blankets up around Y/N and coughed awkwardly. “H-hey Bakugo. Nice hair…”

Bakugo stood, face slowly reddening, jaw slack. He blinked a few times before snapping out of it. “Naked or not, you’re dying you little shit.”

Y/N squealed and scrambled out of Denki’s arms as Bakugo fell into them. “Text me!” And with that she shifted into her fox form and bolted.

#denki kaminari #denki kaminari imagine #denki kaminari x reader #denki smut #kaminari denki #kaminari denki smut #denki kaminari smut #denki x reader smut #bnha #mha imagines #bnha denki #kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #smut

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echo-three-one · 3 years

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What? We're having a baby?!

Requested by : @maximumpoetrygalaxy

Shoutout to a fellow Frank Woods simp.

A short one-shot on how Frank Woods handles the struggles of a pregnant partner, and how he realizes that preparing for a baby isn't as exciting as making one. 🤣

⚠️NSFW WARNING as in Not Safe For Work and Naked Sexy Frank Woods⚠️

Lets assume a younger Woods at this time, yeah?

As the birds began to chirp outside his window, Frank slowly shifted his sleeping position to face his lovely partner, but was greeted with an empty bed. He was all alone.

"Honey?! Where are you?" he slowly got up and put wore only his sweatpants, making his way outside the bedroom.

A loud heaving noise alerted him and made his run to the bathroom, where his partner was hugging the toilet, her eyes looking tired.

Quickly rushing to her aid, he sat down beside her and rubbed her back softly.

"Are you okay? Should we go to the doctors? Is it because you ate Mason's cooking last night? That son of a bit-" he rambled as her partner squeezed her arm and looked at him with a smile on her face. This made the soldier calm down and rub his thumbs on her hand.

"I'm fine." she whispered, Frank slowly inched his face toward hers but she got up.

"Not now, Frank. I just puked!" She giggled and washed her face by the sink. Frank slowly wrapped his arm around her, pressing his entire body on her back, letting her feel the excitedness growing on his pants.

"You sure you're okay?" he whispered against her ear, teasing her a little bit as she stares at the view of the both of them on the mirror, slowly swaying their bodies to his guidance. His partner couldn't help but groan in pleasure, Frank was really one for pleasing and he has the power to do it whenever, wherever and she has no arguments about it.

"I'm very okay now." she turns to him as they kiss, her hands play with his bearded cheek, softly pulling it close to her face. Frank didn't hesitate on kissing her, he slowly made his way on her mouth, circling his tongue along with hers, like two dancers on an evening ball, tangled and couldn't get far from each other.

This was the exact thing that happened weeks ago, they were out drinking, she went to the bathroom to freshen up a bit only to be surprised by Frank Woods.

Weeks ago...

A soft moan escapes her mouth as Frank gently squeezed her leg while lifting it up the sink. She felt so vulnerable, her legs spread open in front of Frank, who's eyes were clearly enjoying the view.

He pressed his whole body against her while giving her neck kisses and licks as two fingers slowly make their way inside her. All she could do was moan both in frustration and pleasure.

His mouth trailed from her neck to her cheek to her lips where she desperately reached for his mouth once they met. Their tongues swirled against each other as both of their moans echo across the room. She could feel her legs shudder 00in the air as Frank's fingers dance inside her, working their own magic.

Breaking the kiss with heavy pants, Frank slowly licked his way down tuuo her other lip, his beard tickling her sensitive mound as his thumbs grip her leg, spreading her wide open as his tongue licks her pussy. At first it felt lacking, he wa nas only licking it like a kid with an ice cream cone, and the anticipation made her whimper and grab his head pushing him in her. Frank let out a soft chuckle as he looked up at her, a sexy smile plastered on his face, a smile that was up to no good.

She felt her hand soften its grip on his hair as Frank started u6utong like a hungry sex starved being, his hot and wet tongue explored every region, never leaving an area unexplored. She liked it a lot, evidenced by her ever hastening pants and loud moans of pleasure.

"Enough.. with the... teasing... Frank... Please." she whimpered her hands started to caress her own breasts, the sound of desperation filled her.

Frank immediately lifted her up and tossed her on the bed, her legs spread as she softly bounce on impact. Her eyes stared at the sexy man on the edge of the bed as he quickly took off his shirt and tossed it somwhere. She seductively licked her lips as her eyes stared at the godlike being before her, the view of his hairy chest, six pack abs and bulging arm muscles filled with tattoos made her almost drool. It got better when she followed the trail of hair just below his navel down to his pants where his erection bulged, waiting to break free.

"Shit, you're so gorgeous when you stare at me like that. It makes me wanna fuck you till you get pregnant." he commented, his voice raspy and sexy sending tingles across her body. She could hear his belt unbuckle setting free his huge cock, fully erect and ready.

"What are you waiting for?" She teased, her fingers curved, inviting him over as he obediently crawled toward her face, their lips clashing against each other on impact. She felt his hand guide his cock on her opening, inserting it quickly without warning. She yelped at the sudden feeling and moaned as soon as it already felt pleasurable.

Her ears were filled with Frank's erratic breaths followed by the loud creaking of their bed, slowly hitting against the wall. She bit her lip as each thrust sends her in a feeling of pure need and want, her insides embracing his every inch.

"Yes.." was the only word she knows how to say, as Frank's grunts and groans grew louder and the sounds of their skin slapping against each other filled the room.

With one final thrust, Frank quickly gets off her and agressively flips her to the side as he lied down behind her, pulling her hair to the side and grabbing her leg and raised it up.

She liked this position, and he knows it. She slowly closed her eyes as her back feels his nipples press against her and how the small of her back feels each pec of his ab slowly hit her as he thrusts from behind.

"You like this right? I know you do.." he breathed from behind her ear, the clapping continues as he slowly picks up the pace once more, feeling his whole package on a different angle. A smile escaped her lips as the pleasure began building up once again. She hears Frank groan differently signaling his approach to climax and braced herself for his load.

"Gahhh.." She felt Frank's warm secretion fill her insides, as they both pant heavily upon release, their muscles slowly tense as Frank spoons her from behind and hugged her.

"Holy shit. That was good." he said.

Frank's naked body was plopped against her as they both pant from exhaustion. They just finished another round and she felt weird that they did it after a horrible morning for her.

She turned to Frank as she felt her stomach churn differently once again. He was too heavy for her so she urged him to move so she could run toward the toilet again.

"We should just go visit a doctor." Frank said as he leaned by the bathroom door. She nodded in response as they prepare for an appointment.

***

"Congratulations. You're pregnant." The doctor, who resembles a lot like Russell Adler, greeted. This earned a different reaction from both parties, as Woods expression was dazed while his partner starts crying tears of joy.

"When will the baby arrive?" Woods quickly stood up almost demanding the doctor to talk.

"It's usually nine months from now. So I could say about, late October." he replied, clearly noting Frank's lack of knowledge towards the matter. His partner just smiled as she sensed excitement coming from her man.

"Now now Frank. It would take a lot of time to grow this." she said rubbing her tummy. Frank excitedly sat back and rubbed her tummy.

"So doc, when will we know if it's a uh.. a boy or a girl?" Frank asked excitedly.

The doctor gave him a soft chuckle. "Come back here for monthly check ups then you'll see how the baby's doing."

"What would you want it to be, Frank?" His partner asked.

"I want it to be a girl." he chuckled.

October 24th of that year.

Frank softly smiled as his partner leans on him while she recovers from her delivery. It was a rough few hours for the both of them and Frank swore she almost broke his fingers from gripping too much.

The nurse entered bringing a sleeping baby draped with pink cloth, her face so peaceful it was almost a crime to make a sound around her.

The parents face lit up as they received the child, touching her soft nose.

"What would you want to name her, Frank?"

"Donna Mary..." he looks at his partner.

"Donna Mary Woods. Welcome to the world."

#No one told me I didn't paste the whole thing

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im-totally-not-an-alien · 3 years

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Final fantasy 7 prompts #69

1. CC Sephiroths wing sprouts earlier than canon and right in front of his friends.

The silverette screams internally as his friends try to calm him down, all the while trying not to freak out themselves

2. FF7: PHANTOM OF THE OPERA AU

3. Vincent is being followed around by a small flock of orphans dressed up like him. He has to fight to keep the smile off his face.

4. Cloud finds Sephiroths baby pictures.

5. Time traveler Cloud breaks a Time materia using it on Genesis and accidentally turns the Lord of LOVELESS into a child. He promptly bails, leaving the redheads small squad of 2nds to deal with the fallout.

After Genesis calms down, he starts to realize he's being treated very differently and he wonders how much havoc he can get away with.

6. Gaia decides enough is enough and starts fighting fire with fire. She went back to Crisis Core era and began reanimated the corpses of Shinras SOLDIERS and using them to destroy Shinra and all that would try to harm her.

Aka its zombie time

7. Yuffie managed to teach Sephiroth some modern slang. Too bad she lied about what they meant.

(Inspired by that one video of Sephiroth calling Cloud a twink.)

8. No one really knows why, but professor Hojo seems to keep reviving and popping into existence on Gaia, usually near Vincent.

Vincent keeps killing him over and over and its oddly therapeutic. The red cloaked figure actually felt bad for the madman the one time he spawned near Cloud. He didn't even know Cloud was capable of such things. And Vincent though he had issues.

9. Genesis bursts into the room yelling "He has her!"

Angeal asks who, prompting the redhead to turn to him, "Strife, he has the goddess!"

10. Extra dimensional Cloud saving/ destroying the world for a horrified sane Sephiroth.

Sephiroth: You need to stop!

Cloud: ...stop? Stop? I'm doing this for you!

11. Cloud, Zack, and Tifa are all time travelers. The problem is that they all think they went back alone. They keep trying to fix things only to discover things have already been done/ have been sabotaged or are just missing entirely. They each become more and more frustrated/ confused. It doesn't help that Cloud has scared the wits out of Tifa and Zack by causing his past self to go MIA

12. Sephiroth keeps stalking Cloud and Aerith convinces the blond to give his stalker a bouquet of red roses.

Sephiroth just holds the flowers staring at them.

Cloud thinks he might have broken him.

13. Genesis took Cadet Cloud under his wing, but no one, not even the Crimson Commander himself could have anticipated how much of a bad influence Genesis could be.

14. Au where Sephiroth is an eldrich alien like Jenova. After two thousand years had passed with no word from his mother, he crash landed on Gaia to see if she was actually dead. Apon finding that she had been killed and her body defiled, he decided he would kill this wretched little planet and all its inhabitants. All his plans came to a screeching halt however, when he caught sight of a pretty little blond with what looked like the most ridiculous helmet the silverette had ever seen sitting in his lap. Yes, he thought, This one must be my life mate.

He then preceeded to try to court the very confused blond. Cloud, however was freaking out. He hadn't been a full fledged Trooper for more then two weeks before a strange man with godlike strength and powers decided to flirt with him like there was no tomorrow. It was times like these he was convinced one of his ancestors had angered Loki.

15. Crack fic that follows the lives of regular Shinra employees while the world is saved in the background

Bonus: "Clearly, the larger bird is from a post apocalyptic future and has returned to the past to right the wrongs wrought by Shinra!"

Angeal was about to admonished the redhead, after all that was ridiculous. Genesis had definitely been reading too many science fiction novels again. He was cut off by the blond making a surprised noise, followed by, "How did you know that?!"

The man may have escaped a few minutes after the exchange, but Genesis was still insufferably smug the rest of the week. Not that it mattered much. He had bigger fish to fry. How in the nine hells do you strategize against someone who has knowledge of the future?

#sephiroth #cloud strife #angeal hewley #ffvii #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 #final fantasy 7 prompts #final fantasy prompts #final fantasy 7 story prompts #final fantasy

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izukuwus · 4 years

Text

Bunny Eyes

A/N: I JUST WANTED TO WRITE BUNNYZUKU GETTING DISAPPOINTED AND BEING CUTE HOW DID THIS HAPPEN BUT Y’ALL WANTED THE SICKFIC SO HERE’S THE SICKFIC

Summary: Saying 'no' to your boyfriend is hard enough, does he have to make you feel so guilty when you’re already sick? (bunny!Izuku x sick!reader, fluff)

Warnings: uh none, the reader has the flu and has flu symptoms but I didn’t go into like, gross descriptions

Word count: 2600+ (HOW THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHORT AND SWEET)

Your boyfriend might be just a little bit evil.

Not in the traditional sense, no, Izuku's too pure and kind and good for this world. Reckless, selfless, and all around perfect.

But he's evil and he knows if he just looks at you just right, you won't be able to say no.

Currently, you're bed-bound from a nasty flu that's been making you feel absolutely miserable. When you're not asleep, the farthest you've been able to go is being miserable on your balcony in the fresh air (usually at night, since this damn flu has absolutely slam dunked your sleep schedule) or sneaking on to your computer to game, exhaustion and dizziness and all manner of symptoms making even sitting up for too long a chore.

You have to thank whatever powers are out there for Izuku's loving hand in your recovery. You don't trust yourself to make it all the way downstairs to the kitchen from your fourth-floor dorm room, and without even asking, he's stopped by every morning and afternoon since you got sick to bring you food, including a few simple pre-packed things to choke down for lunch and extra bottles of water. Not that you've been particularly hungry, but on the rare occasion you feel well enough to choke something down, thanks to him, you've actually been able to.

He's constantly been worried over you, since even before you started dating in your first year, but the flu picking you up and effortlessly slamming you through the floor certainly hasn't helped that. Still, he's so sweet, and by this point (day 5 since you got sick, but who’s counting?) he's basically the only sunshine you're getting. You're sure if your bunny-eared boyfriend didn't have class to go to (and Aizawa was adamant that he still attend class), he'd be at your side every moment, fussing over you and making sure you eat, stay hydrated, and take your medicine.

Unluckily for you (or perhaps luckily—your medicine tastes utterly vile and isn't helping your stomach settle any more), he's had class every day since you got sick, and he can't afford to fall behind even if he's apparently spending most of his time in class worrying over how you're doing alone in your dorm.

Whether him being at class every day is lucky or unlucky, the opposite is true for today. (Or is it tomorrow? What time is it again?) It's the weekend, meaning he's got no other obligations to deal with, so you can and do expect him to want to spend every moment doting and fussing and using those damn eyes to get you to relent and take your disgusting medicine.

On one hand, score, cute boy acting as your nurse. On the other hand, if he spends all day in your room tending to your sick-people needs, he's gonna get sick, and it'll be an utter nightmare trying to get him to take his medicine and actually rest. God knows he'll be trying to sneak in studying when you're not keeping an eye on him. You'll probably have to confiscate his weights so he doesn't try to work out while he's still sick. (Not that you aren't almost just as bad, but at least you're not a rabbit with godlike ability in terms of sheer power and speed to make it harder to deal with.)

As much as you'd adore having his presence with you to make you go from miserable to "miserable but also very aware of how in love you are and being forced to take gross meds" (which kinda cancels itself out), you don't want him getting sick or wasting his whole day on you. Also, you get the feeling he's probably smart enough to figure out that you haven't been resting as much as you say you have. For now, at least, you're sat on your balcony, leaned up against the railing lightly to get some fresh air. And that's where you fall asleep, exhaustion hitting you like so many trucks.

When you wake up, you're being cradled against Izuku's chest and carried to your bed. You shiver, feeling both heat and cold overtake you, and tears prick at your eyes as you realize your fever has almost definitely come back in full force. Izuku pulls back your covers and lays you down, not noticing you're awake until he moves to drape the blanket back over your body. His rabbit ears stand at full attention, his face lighting up just a moment before a playfully chiding look comes on his face.

"You shouldn't be sleeping outside like that, love, you'll get even more sick. And based on how hot you felt when I picked you up, you did." He places his hands on his hips, frowning even as you note the sparkle of affection in his eyes. You're not sure he's even capable of getting actually mad at you.

"Sorry," you mumble, bringing the covers up to hide your face and how utterly awful you look before deciding almost immediately that you're going to overheat under these covers. You writhe about just enough to kick them off, already feeling sweat form on your skin. "The air felt really nice."

You end up throwing a pillow over your face so at least the worst part of you is hidden, hugging it close when Izuku laughs and tries to move it away. "I brought breakfast, please quit hiding so you can eat?"

"But I look like shit," you whine into the pillow. "I don't even have the energy to get downstairs. I had to wash my hair in my bathroom sink."

Warm hands find their way to your wrists, gently prying your hands and the pillow away so you can meet his adoring gaze. If you weren't already flushed from fever, you'd probably have the energy for a blush to find its way to your face. "You're perfect, starshine," he says softly, causing your heart to stutter and your body to instantly melt. His library of pet names never ceases to pull you further into love.

Before you can find some response, he crosses the room to your desk, where he apparently set his Nurse Deku Kit™ so he could carry you back inside. You shift a bit to lean up against your wall, watching in amusement as the giant cotton ball he calls a tail twitches a little bit. You hope, idly, that he doesn't notice that your computer's only in sleep mo—

He bumps the mouse by accident, and the screen lights up immediately, showing your games library with a very obvious "recently played" list. Busted.

He lets out a little sigh as he turns back to you with a thermometer in hand. "Princess..."

You try hard not to look like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and smile innocently at him as he approaches. He sits on the side of your bed, and you tilt your head. "Something wrong?"

He holds out the thermometer, and you obediently let him stick it underneath your tongue, knowing he won't let you out of having your temperature taken. "Have you been resting?"

You nod. He hums, clearly not believing you. "Are you feeling up to eating anything?"

Your nose scrunches up, your stomach turning at the thought. "Ughf," you force out around the thermometer.

Izuku frowns, ruffling your hair as the thermometer beeps. He takes it from you, and his nose twitches as he reads the number. You'd fawn over how adorable it is if not for the look of worry that crosses his features. "Your fever's back, starshine. I really need you to rest more for me, okay?"

Not that you're planning on arguing, but it's really hard to have the will to when his ears drop down and he gives you a look like you just kicked a puppy. You nod, and he perks up just a bit, placing a new water bottle on your nightstand and reaching for a box of crackers. "I know you're not feeling up to eating, but can you do me a favor and eat just one cracker?"

You compromise with half a cracker before your body threatens to revolt for your hubris. You pause, forcing yourself to swallow it, and chase it with a bit of water. With Izuku's coaxing words and a minor break, you manage to choke down the rest without getting even sicker, and he gives you a strained smile that still manages to light up the room.

He leans forward, and you sense his intentions, narrowing your eyes and putting a hand up in front of his lips. "No."

Izuku lets out a disgruntled noise that's a mix between a grunt and a whine when his lips meet your fingers. "Baby," he whines out.

"No!" you insist. "You'll get sick, 'Zuku."

"But I miss you," he says as his ears fall all the way back, his eyes reminding you of one of those adoption commercials with all the sad animals that make you cry every time. "Please, starshine?"

Shit. You're already desperately trying to bring your resolve back. You swear he's figured out exactly how to get you to do what he wants, but you won't falter this time! "No kisses. I shouldn't even be letting you stay in the room to take care of me."

As if the bunny eyes and the oh-so-adorably-expressive ears weren't enough, he wiggles closer to you, taking your hand in both of his and running his thumb over it. "I got my flu shot, I'll be fine! I promise!" He pauses, pouting a bit. You can't tell if it's him thinking or another way to express how disappointed he is. "Please baby? Honey? Sweetheart? Starshine? Princess? Rosebud? Light of my life?"

"Nooo," you press with a giggle as he continues running through every possible pet name he can in a playfully pleading tone. "I know you got your flu shot, but so did I, and here I am."

"Still..." He keeps those damn green eyes (that's the official name for that shade, damn green) locked on yours sadly, and the guilt spikes in your stomach. "Just one?"

And like that, your resolve crumbles. "You're evil, you know that?" you mumble, tearing your eyes away. They dart back just in time to see his whole being light up, rabbit ears effortlessly perking up from their previous saddened position. "Using such a dirty trick. You get one."

You'd continue berating him for the crime of using his adorable face to get what he wants, but he immediately takes your face in his hands and begins showering your face with kisses–your cheeks, your nose, your forehead–everywhere except your lips, which he saves for last, a slow, sweet, chaste kiss that leaves you melting.

"Izuku..." you whine as he pulls away. "I said one."

He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours. "Sorry, starshine. I couldn't help myself."

Your playful ire melts at the way his eyes flutter shut in contentment, small smiles on both of your lips. He surely knows by now that it's impossible for you to say no, not when he's this damn cute.

A giggle surges out of you, followed by a coughing fit that you desperately cover in your elbow. When you catch your breath, you smirk at him, eyes sparkling. "If you get sick because of this, I'm confiscating your weights so you can't try to train."

"Alright, alright, I get it. You haven't taken your medicine yet today, right?" You wince, turning your head away preemptively. "'Zu-kun..." you whine.

"[name]..." His tone is gently chiding as he prepares the medicine, unscrewing the cap with one hand and gently placing the other under your cheek and pushing you back to face him. "You're not gonna get better if you keep trying to skip your medicine and sneak onto the computer instead of resting."

"But if I take the medicine, I might throw up the cracker, and it was so hard to eat just the one..." You give him your best puppy eyes, but he only smiles fondly and shakes his head, continuing to measure out your dose.

“You'll get all the cuddles when you're better if you take your medicine like you're supposed to," he promises.

You pout, but when he extends the dose cup filled with liquid distaste, you begrudgingly take it, downing it like the least pleasant shot you've ever had in your life. You gag on the swallow, but you down every drop, pouting at Izuku when it's all down. "Happy?"

"Very. You did a good job, princess." He ruffles your hair, and you really wish you could muster the energy to be flustered at the praise like you normally would, but honestly, you already feel yourself kind of drifting back off. Determined, you shoot him a smile and try to distract yourself from sleepiness.

"I know it's a weekend, but if I stay in bed and promise to get rest, can I get away with asking to see your notes from class?" You plead, giving him your best puppy-eyed look.

"I don't know, you haven't shown me a very good track record of actually resting," he says teasingly, not yet having looked at you as he rifles through his little kit for something else.

"'Zu-kun," you whine, stifling a yawn. "I don't wanna go to sleep yet. Please?"

Izuku disappears into your bathroom for a moment, followed shortly by the sound of running water, and when he emerges to see your pleading look, you can see his own resolve crumble.

Two can play at his little pleading game.

He smooths a hand over your forehead to move your hair out of the way, laying a blue towel over your sweat-slicked forehead that's cold, far too cold—

You let out a whine as you shiver. "How is it even that cold?" You mumble, shifting into your blankets more in an attempt to balance the heat.

"Oh, it's one of those exercise towels," he explains. "They're made so they get really cold when they're wet. I want to try to bring your temperature down, but if it's way too cold, I can get a regular towel instead–"

You shake your head. The cold does feel soothing, underneath all the cold cold cold so cold making you shiver. "Notes?" you remind him.

He leans forward and presses a quick peck to the towel in your forehead before you can stop him. "I love you, [name], but it can wait until you're feeling better."

"So can kisses," you retort, swatting at him lightly. "I don't wanna be useless the whole time I'm sick, so—" You break off into a yawn. "—so please let me study a bit?"

"Try to eat half of one more cracker before you fall asleep and I might consider it when you wake up," he says with a teasing grin. You pout and hold out your hand for him to place the broken cracker in.

"I hate having crumbs in my bed," you mutter, nibbling away at the cracker. You barely manage to eat the half you were given, your body protesting your attempts to actually eat and keep something down all the while, but you do manage it.

Izuku's fingers entwine with your own, a fond smile on his face as you feel yourself nodding off. "[Name]?"

"Mm?"

"I love you. Get better soon, okay?"

"Love you too," you reply sleepily, another yawn wracking your body. "Sorry. I wanted to stay up and... talk with you... but..."

A hand finds its way into your hair to play with it as your eyes drift shut. "It's okay," he says adoringly, "We'll talk later. Get some rest, princess."

#midoriya izuku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bunny!izuku #deku x reader #my fics

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pantheon-god-of-war · 3 years

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I made a post on Twitter and learned that Pantheon x Aphelios is a genuine ship like Aphelios x Sett is? Honestly I only ever cared about 200 years when I kicked his face in while ulting bot. I think his story while tragic is very isolating. So I went back to read through the lore of his again to make sure I remembered everything correctly from the first time I read it back when he was released.

Now bare in mind I do not ship bash, if you like the ship more power to you, I won’t discourage anyone from shipping what they like. It’s all fiction. That said I will analyze the two of them and see if I can find some common ground from the lore material we have.

Aphelios and Alune were both children of the Lunari and were heralded to be these great children of destiny for the lunar faith. From a young age they had all this weight thrust upon them to defend the Lunari as fighter and seer. This supposed great destiny, while it turned out to be true is quite brainwashing for young children and incredibly manipulative. It is stated that Aphelios had a very strong and deep connection with his sister which in turn hurt him when she was not there since he likely felt isolated and had severe problems fitting in with others. Its a common phenomenon that certain individuals who have a singular best friend or sibling suffer immensely when that person leaves and they are left to deal with others, much like some of us have most fiends online these days and desperately wait for said friends to get on so they will have company. It even says that without Alune his faith wavered, clearly tying him immensely to her so much that there is a dependency on her closeness that correlates to his effectiveness in combat or even as a functioning human being as it is said that he lost his very purpose. It seems like while Alune firmly believes in the Moon Aphelios believes in her and whatever she stands for, so will he. I don’t want to say Moon Simp here because they are brother and sister but in essence he very much does what she commands, even in game. Its a very unhealthy sort of hyper dependency as without her he just falls apart.

In this desperation he comes across noctum on a spiritual journey and consumes it only to later understand that he is to live as a conduit for Alunes magic. I like this excerpt out of his story because it highlights the duality and the tragedy of their relationship.

Only now did they understand their destiny. Aphelios would hollow himself out with pain, but would become a conduit for the moon’s power. Alune would live alone, isolated in her fortress, but she would guide her brother, able to see through his eyes.

While it is tragic it really takes away from his own character. He has no real will of his own at this point, Alune is faithful to the moon and guides him in any way she sees fit as she is the seer, he is merely the earthly vessel for her actions that are in the best interests of the Lunari.

With Aphelios previously already being quite anti social as he only focuses on Alune this connection should amp it up tenfold. Imagine having the only person you really care about in your head constantly talking to you and telling you what to do so long you are under the painful influence of a harmful substance. It makes him the epitome of a living tool, because he does not speak or feel and because he is hyper fixated on his sister. When you hollow your body out with a poison that numbs you to all sorts of feelings there is really little sense for physical companionship as you have numbed yourself to the point of not being able to speak, with constant pain coursing through you. That is without Aphelios innate antisocial behavior

All and all this paints Aphelios as a silent killer who works alone, gets his missions either from Alune exclusively, or convenes with Lunari elders on what targets need to be eliminated. He very much reminds me of Agent 47, take the job, maximum efficiency, get it done, get the next job. His destiny or purpose is to serve the Lunari and keep them safe and anything that keeps him from achieving his singular purpose is either an obstacle or not worth his time.

Pantheon is a whole new problem in that he hates everyone on the mountain, to varying degrees but still. His one big defining trait is that he stands up to the gods, aspects and darkin. He renounces the power of the aspects and the gods dominion over Targon and will fight nearly anything to follow his belief. He threatens Aurelion Sol, fights Xerath and generally just howls at every aspect ascended, demi god, or darkin there is. When mom told Atreus to pick his battles he simply said “I’ll pick em all” and off he went kicking everyone ass.

Pantheons place in Targon is very uncertain. I said this before when he got reworked that this stance against the gods will put him at odds with everyone on Targon. The Solari and Lunari believe in their respective gods, the Rakkor or Targonians all believe in either of those gods or worship other constellations since in Targon this ascended magic is something to aspire too. People look up to the stars, ask them for guidance, read their fate in the stars, trust them and even pilgrim from every corner of the earth to worship and marvel at the gods. Pantheon would be at odds with every single person and while he won’t slaughter everyone I think the canonical thing for Pantheon to do is just leave mount Targon and fight other gods OR actually challenge and kill Leona, Diana Taric and so on. Which would be a very dark but also very possible path. Kill the aspects to show the masses that their gods do not save them and demand exponentially more than they ever return. For that Pantheon would have to end the Lunari and Solari faith and completely reshape the way people on Targon think about the stars, and as much as I love Pantheon I do not see that as something possible, nor do I see him as the kind of man who would force anyone to agree with him. He carries his rage and resentment but he will not force it upon another, rather confront the person responsible and settle it with them (the gods).

Now Pantheon did fight with the Ra’Horak in his fight against Xerath. Where it was actually the Ra’Horak fighting Xerath before Pantheon arrived. I am guessing that was because the first sun disc was constructed in Nerimazeth and the Solari desired it for some reason, but I am getting off track here. Pantheon helped the Solari warriors, which leads me to believe that perhaps he can exist on Targon in a way. But with the circumstances I think it was more him fighting against Xerath. Since that thing was clearly a godlike entity that he was all but ready to kill. The Solari just happen to be there and he decided to aid the mortals fighting against a god, that does not mean he agrees with their beliefs.

Had Aphelios fought Xerath, would Pantheon have helped? Sure, probably. I think Pantheon would also help Leona and Diana against Aatrox if they needed his help again. It’s all a matter of hierarchy. Who is the greatest threat and who is a lesser one. So I could see them working together against a greater common foe for sure but more I think not.

His quote to Aphelios is at first glance more positive, but considering all the underlying character traits I think it is a little darker than what it at first implies. Pantheon knows that it is human destiny to fight for survival and only those strong and brave enough do not shy away from the pain and anguish that decision costs. Pantheon understands Aphelios motivation, why he fights, that does not mean he supports it.

To Pantheon, Aphelios is a man so zealous and devoted to the moon that he would willingly forsake his humanity, poison himself and suffer for eternity so that he could enact the will of the moon, a god. This is going to really set of Pantheon’s past when the god of war possessed his body, forced him into the back of his own mind only to do what he wanted with Atreus flesh. That is the exact breaking point on why Pantheon and Aphelios will hardly ever see eye to eye. One of them a devoted zealot, willing to surrender it all in service to the moon, the other a warrior who despises the gods and their machinations above all else having once been at the mercy of one of them. With Aphelios added antisocial character I really doubt they would ever exchange much words. Perhaps Pantheon extends an olive branch and tries to get Aphelios to live for himself. But Aphelios would refuse, if no one else could sway him from this singular purpose in life which he has grown up with since his birth, this random warrior won’t be able to sway him either and here the line from Pantheon comes back in as a sort of, “I understand and hail your conviction.” before the fight, where he respects the resolve, but not the reason for it.

That’s why I don’t think they are quite shippable. The only two people I could really see Aphlios with is either Diana or Taric. Diana only if she embraces her role as leader of the Lunari where she comes to appreciate what Aphelios does for her people but is worried about his own mental health, from one antisocial who has grown above it to another. She could perhaps understand and through said knowledge know how to help him open himself up more. That is if she cared enough. Taric on the other hand would feel the damage and pain in Aphelios, and as all life should be beautiful so would he try to mend Aphelios. He clearly has the warmth, care, compassion, and patience to deal with someone as secluded as Aphelios, gently prying him open until he finally lets himself feel again and maybe finally finds someone who can help him open up to other Lunari and Targonians. Isolation is a terrible thing and it leaves horrible scars. I see only Taric in a position where he could mend those scars. Pantheon likely would not care, he is cold and angered himself, no mercy for the strong, as he says. That’s why I think they would clash or would just never get past the cold nodding before combat phase.

This isn’t to bash any people who like the ship, I just thought id give my two cent on Pantheon x Aphelios and why it never occurred to me to ship these two. I get that emo x himbo is a thing, probably also why Aphelios x Sett is so loved, but from a lore and character standpoint I don’t really see it.

This was a post I’ll link to twitter, but if you have input or a different opinion I am always open to discussion and new viewpoints. Go crazy!

#Pantheon #Aphelios

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ampleappleamble · 3 years

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— His voice echoed in her mind still. The entrance to the catacombs was exactly where the apparition in the burnt temple had said it would be– tucked away in an inconspicuous corner of Copperlane, unguarded and easily accessible to those who knew what they were looking for. But as she stood before the humble stone archway, steeling herself for the ordeal to come, Axa had suddenly found herself swept away from the here and now into a memory from another time, another life– –It was her turn, at last. He smiled at her approach, warm and fatherly. "You are from Creitum, my dear?" "I am, Your Eminence." She smiled back, bashful and slightly starstruck. This was an honor, she reminded herself, an immense honor for such worthless caitiff as herself. "I was born and raised in Creitum." His smile broadened–

Axa had never heard of any city called Creitum, but she had heard the name, had heard him ask her that same question before. In dreams, in memories hidden deep within her soul. "Axa? Y' okay?" She felt Edér's hands gripping her shoulders as the vision faded away, ready to prop her up should she need him to. She had wavered, but she had not fallen. Her little hand found his, squeezed it gently as she smiled up into the bearded man's face. "Yes, Edér, I'll be... I'm fine. Thank you. Let's just get this over with–" –"A fine city, one of the very finest we have encountered outside of our own. Creitum has produced many strong, principled women and men who have heard the call of the gods and answered that call with reverence and devotion, determined to spread the truth of Their word." He laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his smile as warm and nurturing as the sun, and she felt her heart swell with respect and adoration for him, for the gods who had lead her here. "And how did it come to pass that you should hear Their call, my child?" She had hoped, before, that he might not ask about her previous life, pathetic and meaningless as it had been. But now beneath his benevolent gaze, her answer came easily– The vision replayed itself over and over in her mind, even as she knelt before the dead man just beyond the bottom of the entrance stairs. The essence still clinging to his rapidly cooling body had revealed to Axa that, for better or for worse, they'd come to the right place to find the Leaden Key. Axa heard Itumaak growl behind her, heard Edér and Pallegina draw their weapons and Kana start chanting. She whipped around just in time to see the troll lumbering out of the shadows at them, flanked by black oozes that undulated grotesquely in the torchlight. There was no turning back now– –"I suffered through... troubled times in my youth, Your Eminence. Dark times." She was surprised at how easy it was to admit now, how the shame and sorrow that had seemed heavy enough to crush her before now slipped from her shoulders like an old shawl as she spoke. "I was lost, adrift in a meaningless world without light, without hope. Nothing made sense. But that all changed when your order brought the word of the true gods to us." He nodded sagely, his grip briefly tightening on her shoulder– "Gee back, ye clods! These hooded fiends is nae t' be trusted!" Aloth's hand shot out to grab her by the shoulder, but Axa spun on him instead, eyes wide with alarm, surprising him just enough to allow him to regain control. Strong hands seized him then, shook him roughly as he coughed and stumbled. "Postenago, what are you doing? You will give away our position!" Pallegina's golden eyes narrowed to slits in her anger, baring her teeth as she hissed at the trembling elf. He opened his mouth to stammer an apology, an excuse, anything to get the Godlike to ease off, but Axa beat him to it. "It's alright, Pallegina, he didn't do it on purpose. He can't–" She glanced at Aloth's face, winced, continued– "he can't help it." To her surprise, he didn't look betrayed or even angry with her for spilling his secret. He simply lowered his gaze to his feet, apologized again, hugged his cloak tightly around himself as Kana gently ushered him off to the side of the damp, earthy passageway to sit and collect himself. "Forgive me, I... I don't know what came over me." He smoothed his hair back with shaking hands, eyes rimmed red and watery. "But... when we're finished here, I–" "When we're finished here," Sagani snapped, "you're going to have some explaining to do, I wager." The little huntress regarded him with that mix of righteous anger and genuine concern that only a parent could truly master, hands planted squarely on her hips. "Until then: Watcher, you've a job to do. And by the sounds of it, you've not much time to do it in." She thrust her chin at the door at the end of the corridor, voices behind it rising to a crescendo before coming to an abrupt halt. Axa nodded, pulled on the itchy, stifling hood and mask– –"I see. Indeed, very little makes sense taken in the context of the falsehoods under which so many innocent lives have labored for so long. Too long." His kind, gentle smile had been warped by pity into a rictus grave and sorrowful, and she feared for a moment that her words might have actually caused him pain, somehow. But the smile slowly returned as he continued speaking, like storm clouds breaking and drifting apart to once again reveal the beauty and power of the sun. "It is by the mercy of the gods alone– praise be to Them!– that we have been permitted to bear the torch of Their divine truth to these distant shores, to enlighten so many of the lost and heathen in these chaotic times." His hand tightened on her shoulder again, and the tears she had not even known were there spilled over her lashes and down her cheeks. He brushed them away with the back of one finger, showing her such compassion as she had never known in her old life. "Are you ready, initiate? Are you ready to take the oath, to devote yourself body, mind, and soul to spreading the word of the gods? To bring to the ignorant the light of the truth?" She found the courage to look into his eyes at last, and in them she saw salvation. Finally, she was saved. And in turn, she would help the order to save them all. "I am–" "State your name and purpose." Axa was not able to tell if the masked woman was speaking to her with her voice or with her mind alone. But neither had she the luxury of dwelling on such minutiae. "My name belongs to the gods, and my hand to their service." She had never been a particularly devout woman, but somehow the words felt familiar as they left her mouth. As though she had not learned them mere moments ago from some fidgeting neophyte, but had always known them, deep in her soul. "What company do you seek?" A vision of her friends outside flashed before her mind, the five of them huddled together in the little hallway, nervously awaiting her return. She pushed the thought away as quickly as her wits would allow. "I seek the company of shadows, that our labors may remain secret." Secrets and shadows seemed to dominate her life ever since coming to the Dyrwood, that much was certain. Ever since that night, the bîaŵac, the machine– "Tell me of your labors." She had yet to fully recover from the day's efforts, her body still aching from physical exertion, her nerves raw. All the problems in the city– was it all the work of these people? How could that be so? "To see that the craft of kith and wilder does not disturb what bones the gods have buried." For all that the robed man in her past life had spoken of bringing the "truth of the gods" to the people, this cult seemed awfully keen on obfuscation. Burying secrets, hiding in the shadows, locking it all away– "How do we know your purpose?" And they demanded knowledge while offering none themselves? Threatened with death those who opposed their hidden will? She thought of Kana, pursued across two continents as he quested for the truth of his homeland's history. To what end...? "You shall know it by the confession of my tongue, the deeds of my hand, and the oath on my soul." Sins kept secret. Atrocities committed against the innocent. Promises broken and falsehoods unchallenged. Axa's heart pounded in her chest. These people were very dangerous. But a choice between provoking their wrath by opposing their will and allowing them to continue their nefarious operation unabated was no choice at all. "And how is your oath guarded?" She looked into the acolyte's masked face, and saw an emotionless, inscrutable void. Whoever these people were, whoever guided them from the shadows, she would not let them subdue her, or Kana, or anyone who sought the light of the truth, ever again. She swore it. "It is sealed by the Leaden Key." —

#pillars of eternity #poe anthem infinitum #tumblo ate this fucking post twice #and i had to jump through some FUCKING HOOPS to get it on my desktop #fix your shit tamblo.#anyway plz enjoy chapter 10 is almost done~#fic wip

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spaceskam · 4 years

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Inspired by @aewriting's fic because oh my goddddd

ao3

Michael knew a lot of things. He was smart and aware and was sufficiently sure that his species better than the entirety of the human race so there was no point in giving a shit.

Yet, for the life of him, he couldn't stop grinning as he looked at the assigned rooming system for their class trip.

Michael," Max hissed as he leaned over, his own copy of the syllabus and rooming system in his hand, "We need to request to room together instead."

"What, why?" Michael said, struggling to tear his eyes off the 4D - Michael Guerin, Alex Manes written on his paper. The idea of watching him get ready in the morning and seeing how long it took him to put on his makeup had Michael squirming for some reason.

"Because," Max said, eyes wide like he should've pieces it together, "What if something happens?"

Michael frowned. "Are you still having issues?"

"Yes!" Max insisted, "So we need to both request room changes."

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to say for why I want a room change?" Michael scoffed. He didn't say that he really, really didn't want a room change. Alex was easily the most interesting human being he'd ever seen. If Michael was going to have a human friend, he'd be it. This felt like a good excuse to get to know him.

Max scanned the page to see who Michael was rooming with.

"Easy, it's Alex. Say you're not comfortable rooming with someone who's, you know," Max said, shrugging to fill in the blank. Michael's eyebrows raised.

"Oh, fuck off, I'm not pretending to be a homophobe so you can get off in the shower to the idea of Liz Ortecho's shampoo without worrying someone might see a power outage," Michael told him, shaking his head, "You can go a weekend controlling yourself. And, if not, Iz can work her magic."

"You're a terrible brother."

"Love you too."

By the time they were loading onto the bus, Michael's excitement had bled into nerves.

Sure, he was better than humans, but humans were also notorious for thinking they were hot shit. Would Alex be a shitty roommate? It was only a couple days, but that was still hours where they'd be alone in the same room together. Would they bond? Would he piss Alex off? Would they get in a fight?

They'd both been in a lot of fights.

While everyone else packed towards the back of the bus, Alex sat up from behind the teachers. He'd already put his headphones on from what Michael sound see, ignoring every glare Mr. Rowe gave him for it as he tried to give them a big, preparatory speech. Subsequently, Michael didn't hear much of it either.

Most of the ride was like that, actually. It was a long 3 hours, but his eyes kept drifting to the only boy who sat alone with his eyes closed. He was bold and didn't give a shit which Michael was envious of. As much as he tried, he always cared a little bit, at the very least what Isobel and Max thought of him. But Alex didn't. And, to make matters more distracting, the sun seemed to hit his face in just the perfect way that it seemed he was torn out of a goddamn magazine. Another thing to be envious of.

"Will you stop staring at him?" Isobel scolded from beside him, "People are already going to be asking you if you're sleeping with him after you're alone with him every night, are you really trying to make the rumors worse?"

"Would it mean I get to punch someone in the face?" Michael asked. Max scoffed from where he was leaning over the seat behind them to join the conversation.

"If you do that, you're going to be in a lot of trouble."

"I'm already always in a lot of trouble, might as well have a good reason," Michael suggested, shrugging his shoulders. He smiled as his siblings shook their heads.

He let his eyes drift back to the godlike, Michelangelo-sculpture-esque man that was Alex Manes.

Mr. Rowe passed out each the key cards to everyone, giving a speech about being responsible. No parties, no drinking, no leaving past curfew, no this, no that.

Michael’s eyes followed the way Alex’s slender fingers grabbed the key card before slipping it into the back pocket of his tight jeans. He didn’t smile, he didn’t speak, and he simply embodied the vibes of every dull bad boy that popped up in shitty YA books. Except he wasn’t dull. That’s what made him interesting.

Alex must’ve felt him staring though because he looked over and Michael looked away so fast he almost hurt himself.

“You’re going to piss him off if you keep staring at him,” Isobel scolded, pinching his arm. He glared at her, rubbing the skin she’d attacked. “The last thing we need is you getting in a fight.”

“I’m not going to fight Alex,” he insisted, sneaking another look over at the boy he’d be spending the entire weekend with, “I promise.”

“Well, make sure you keep your phone on you so you can text me if things get weird,” Isobel said. Michael rolled his eyes.

“Okay, Mom.”

“Everyone has their keys? Okay, then we should be set for the night. Go find your rooms, get settled, and we’ll head down for dinner at 6:30, alright? Then back to your rooms for the night. Make sure you’re taking showers, we’re going to the Grand Canyon tomorrow and the last thing I need is anyone smelling like they haven’t bathed and they’re baking under direct sun,” Mr. Rowe preached, inciting a few whispered laughs and accusations about who he was talking about. Michael knew it probably wasn’t directly at him, but he shifted uncomfortably anyway. “Again, have your alarms set. I’ll knock on doors in the morning, but we’re all meeting down here at 7 in the morning and if I have to go hunt you down, we’ll have problems. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Eventually, they all started making their way towards their rooms. Isobel, Max, and Michael all opted for the stairs along with a few other students while the rest waited for the elevator. They made it to Michael’s room first and both Isobel and Max gave him wary looks.

“Jesus, you both seem to forget I have more control than you,” he said. They shared a look.

“Yeah, but only in one way. I just don’t want you to get in trouble,” Max said. Michael rolled his eyes.

“Stop parenting me.”

“Okay, fine,” Isobel said, holding up her hands in defense and subsequently becoming more parental. Michael rolled his eyes and turned to the door.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said, pushing into the room and closing it behind him.

He didn’t mean to slam it as loud as he did and he definitely didn’t mean to startle the boy who was already in the room. Alex had seemed to jump out of his skin and looked at Michael like he’d lost it. Michael gave an apologetic smile and tried not to think about the fact that this was the first time they’d ever been alone. Hell, this would be the first real conversation they’d had.

Actually, he couldn’t remember a time Alex Manes had ever spoke outside of throwing insults at jocks or when they were forced to debate designer babies in 10th grade. Alex had been the only one who was anti that didn’t play the God card. He’d gone on a long spiel about how it wasn’t a guarantee, about how parents paid all that money to have a child exactly how they wanted, but what happened if it didn’t work that way? Nature vs. nuture, he’d said. A baby could look the part, but if it didn’t act the part, they had parents accusing them of losing hundreds of thousands of dollars. That was the moment Michael knew he was more than a YA bad boy.

For a moment, he wondered if Alex thought he was the YA bad boy. They both fit different sides of the same profile. Alex was punk and hardened, Michael was thrown through the system and had a stint in juvie the summer before, and both of them had been in more fights than necessary. Oh, God, what if Alex thought he was bland?

“I felt each bed, I took the one that makes less noise,” Alex said simply, voice deeper than Michael remembered. Was it hot in here?

“Why? Don’t wanna wake me when you sneak out?” Michael asked, trying to act normal. He wasn’t well versed in making friends, but he knew staring at them like a deer in headlights was not the way to go about it.

“More like don’t wanna wake you when I stay up all night,” Alex responded, not offering a smile as he focused back on the bed. He had a duffel bag and he pulled out a long wire, kneeling on the bed and reaching over to plug it in the wall. His shirt slid up as he did so, revealing a small patch of tanned skin on his back that Michael found inexplicably interesting.

“Well, good news, I don’t really sleep either.”

“Seems like that’s why we got roomed together,” Alex said, dropping onto the bed after he plugged it into the wall and then plugged the other end into his phone, “Same answers on the questionnaire.”

“Seems like it,” Michael agreed. Alex paused for a moment, looking over at him with dark, curious eyes.

“And you don’t have a problem with this?”

“Are you gonna kill me in my sleep?”

“You just said you don’t sleep,” Alex said. Michael raised his eyebrow at the lack of an answer. It earned a small smile from Alex that made Michael’s heart skip a beat. “No, I’m not gonna kill you.”

“Then we’re all good.”

“And the rumors don’t bother you?” Alex prodded. Michael dropped his bag beside the other bed and laid down, grinning mindlessly as it groaned under his wait.

“The rumors about me don’t bother you?” Michael shot back. Alex eyed him for a moment. Michael fully expected him to elaborate on the rumors about himself to get his question across. It wasn’t uncommon for people to think Michael just didn’t get it. It didn’t matter how smart he was: you look homeless, people treat you like you’re helpless. But Alex didn’t fill in any blanks.

“As long as you don’t kill me in my sleep,” Alex said with a shrug, falling against the pillows and putting his attention onto his phone. Michael watched him for a few extra seconds before he shook his head, pulling out a book to pass the time.

He was definitely going to get a friend out of this. Who knew?

Michael was dead weight on the bed.

They’d had a full buffet for the students and Michael had eaten more than he’d eaten in a long time. As good as it was, he also felt like he was about to succumb to a food coma. So much for staying up all night.

He ended up waking up bright and early anyway, though. The birds started chirping before the sun rose and he rolled over in irritation. Alex was laying on the bed, curled up and asleep with his phone screen still on and shining towards the ceiling. Michael laid there for awhile, fading in and out of sleep until Alex’s alarm went off at 6.

Alex woke up with a pout and a sigh, stretching his limbs out and arching his back. Michael watched him mindlessly, watching his legs shake at the tense muscles before he slowly dragged himself up and Michael pretended to be asleep. The first step to making friends was decidedly not watching them while they slept.

Michael stayed in bed as Alex quietly grabbed his makeup bag and disappeared into the bathroom. Was it weird that Michael was a little sad he closed the door? Yes. Yes it was weird. What the fuck.

Around the time one of the teachers knocked on the door to tell them they should be awake, Alex reappeared all dolled up. His makeup was in full force, his hair done in a skillful way, and sporting black jeans and a black t-shirt. His cheeks seemed extra sparkly, though, and Michael nodded in approval.

“Nice face,” he said simply, grabbing a pair of jeans. Alex blew air from his nose in response.

“Okay.”

“Mhm.”

They both went down for breakfast and to gather to load the buses and head to the Grand Canyon. Alex, despite his friends, sat at the front of the bus by himself again. Liz and Maria sat towards the back and behind Kyle, leaving him alone. Michael felt bad.

“While you aren’t required to be on a strict buddy system with your roommate, I definitely suggest staying close by them because you will be needing to do check-ins together. We’re not trying to have anyone run off, alright? Understand?” Mr. Rowe announced.

“Yes, sir,” they all agreed and it seemed good enough for him, signalling for the bus driver to go ahead.

“So, did you cause a power outage in front of your roommate?” Michael asked Max.

“How would he have done that?” Isobel asked. Michael offered and filthy grin and moved his hand in an obscene gesture, his tongue poking in his cheek. She looked slightly horrified at the mental image and slapped his arm, instantly making him laugh. Max just sunk into the seat behind them with an embarrassed groan.

“Guess not,” Michael snorted.

“Well, what about you and Alex Manes? How’d that go? No fights? No gay awakening?” Isobel prodded. Michael rolled his eyes, his mood tampering at just how dull the night had been.

“Sorry to disappoint. I took a shower as soon as we got back from dinner and he took one after and I was asleep by the time he got out, so nothing special,” Michael said with a shrug. He was admittedly disappointed. What was the point of putting two troublemakers in the same room if they didn’t raise a little hell? Instead, he ate too much and fell asleep like an old man.

“Okay, well, do something because it’s only been one night and I’m already over Carly’s long discussion over Kyle Vlaneti’s cheekbones. Like, I get it, he’s hot, but there are much more important things to talk about,” she scoffed. Michael huffed a laugh.

“Sorry, I’ll do my best to do something more interesting.”

He wasn’t quite sure what that interesting thing would be, but he could definitely try.

That interesting thing happened when he and Alex were walking back after their routine check-in.

“This is so fucking lame,” Michael said, gesturing the canyon that failed to impress him no matter how many signs he read, “It’s a big hole in the ground.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s kind of nice,” Alex responded. Michael raised an eyebrow at him and they both came to a stop.

“Nice?” Michael repeated, “What’s nice about it?”

“Look, come see,” Alex ushered, grabbing his arm freely and pulling him to an area that was pretty empty. They were far away from the rest of the group by the time Alex let go of him and he honestly got a little worried as Alex stepped so close to the edge that his toes were hanging off.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Don’t you feel small?” he asked. Michael watched as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. The sun seemed to find him and he was glowing. “Like nothing matters. Years of horrible things that built this country never stopped the natural flow of things enough to take this. No matter who we are, what we do, there’s always something… else.”

Michael licked his lips. Like what, he thought, aliens?

Alex breathed in deep.

“I could do anything. I could jump or I could kill someone or I could commit every atrocity, and the world would keep turning,” Alex whispered, “And some people do that. Because it doesn’t matter so they don’t care. But if we’re all horrible, every last one, who will notice the small things? Like… this. Us. I am nothing, but doesn’t that make us everything?”

“You lost me.”

Alex laughed softly and opened his eyes, turning towards Michael. Then he gestured for him to come closer. And, like all idiots with superiority complexes, Michael obeyed and let his toes hang off the edge without a thought.

“The only kind thing left is Mother Nature.”

“Mother Nature kills,” Michael pointed out. Alex rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be cynical, think about it. There’s nothing selfish in nature, not really. You take what you need.”

“Some species would disagree.”

“Just humans,” Alex sighed, “Fuck humans.”

Michael huffed a laugh and couldn’t help but admire him and agree. For a guy who wore all black and had punched a few jocks hard enough to raise talk of expulsion, he was apparently a lot more positive and logical than everyone else.

“Fuck humans,” Michael agreed, turning his face towards the canyon. He thought it looked a little better now. “Fuck humans!”

“Yes,” Alex laughed cupping his hands around his mouth to amiplify his voice, “Fuck humans!”

“Fuck humans!”

“Alright, boys,” Mr. Rowe sighed from somewhere behind them. Alex jumped at the sudden new voice and, on instinct, Michael grabbed his shirt and pulled him away from the edge just as he lost his footing.

They ended up a few steps away from the edge, Michael still holding onto him while he caught his breath from the short moment of fear. But through it all, Alex was smiling at him. Not just the normal, irritated smile, but a big one that rivaled the sun that shined just for him. And that smile was targeted at Michael specifically. Wasn’t that breathtaking?

“Alex, are you alright?” Mr. Rowe said, voice actually concerned as he jogged closer, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Um, yeah,” Alex said, slowly taking a step out of Michael’s hold and that cold demeanor started to slip back up as he remembered they weren’t alone, “I’m good. Just made me jump.”

Mr. Rowe looked between them and nodded. “Right. Just be careful, we don’t need you falling off the side no matter how angsty you feel.”

Michael laughed, “Sure thing, we’ll be careful.”

“Yeah,” Mr. Rowe said, looking between them a couple more times, “And you two are good with sharing a room together?”

“Doesn’t bother me,” Michael said, looking over to Alex. His smile was fully gone now, the hardened face back in place, and he shrugged.

“Haven’t killed him yet.”

“Comforting, Mr. Manes, thank you,” Mr. Rowe sighed. He gave Michael a pat on the shoulder before turning and walking back to the group.

“Yet?” Michael asked once their teacher was out of ear shot. A secretive little smile slipped back onto his face.

“Never say never.”

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting with my class trip buddy.”

Michael grinned shameless as he got settled in the bus seat beside Alex in the far front. They were heading back to the hotel and Michael, still high on the moment he’d had with Alex on the cliff’s edge, wanted to be close to him again.

“Okay,” Alex agreed, eyeing him skeptically. Michael just gave that smile that he knew was charming. It was his specialty. Alex rolled his eyes and sat back into his seat, but the tiny smile tugging at his lips didn’t go unnoticed.

“So, whatcha listening to?” Michael prodded, leaning into his personal space to see what was on his phone. Alex elbowed him away gently, but he picked up the spare earbud to hand to Michael. He accepted it. “What is this?”

“Ska punk.”

“Huh?”

“Ska,” Alex said, grinning at Michael’s lack of understanding, “Like, No Doubt? Sublime?”

“You’re just trying to confuse me today, aren’t you?” he said. Alex rolled his eyes but turned up the music.

“It’s a mix between classic alt and ska which is basically, like, reggae influence,” Alex explained, “In my superior opinion, it’s the best genre.”

“Why?” Michael wondered. Alex raised an eyebrow and turned up the music a little more as if that would explain it.

“Because it’s a perfect mix between chill and ‘fuck the man’ music. Like, when I take over the world, I’m gonna do it with ska punk blaring all the time,” Alex explained. Michael sputtered a laugh, unable to find him uninteresting in the slightest.

“You plan to take over the world, huh?”

“So, here’s the plan, right,” Alex said, turning in his seat. He looked around as if someone might actually overhear and leaned a bit closer. Michael followed his lead, listening with pure interest. “I’m gonna write a musical, right, and it’s gonna take the world by storm. People are gonna love me and I’ll get the unbridled support by the world of theatre when I run for president at 30.”

“Oh, we’re jumping straight to president?”

“Hell yeah, I don’t waste time,” Alex said, waving a hand and looking deadly serious the entire time, “Anyway, I’ll be technically too young, but the overwhelming support will get me my win. Then, then, I’ll spend about two years in office learning all the government secrets and then I’m gonna whistleblow all of it before I go into hiding.”

Michael nodded, on board with every word.

“Liz and Maria are gonna stay in America to lead the true revolution while I go hide from American officials in Russia for a few years,” he explained.

“How are you gonna hide in Russia?”

“I figure I’ll seduce someone in power,” Alex said like it was easy. And, honestly, Michael believed him. “Anyway, then I’ll go to the Vatican‒wash, rinse, repeat, whistleblow that bitch. Then the Pope will probably try to have me assassinated on live TV, but it’s fine because I’ll survive.”

“Oh yeah?” Michael laughed. Alex eyed him, judging him until he feigned seriousness to match Alex’s. Still, he found it ungodly amusing that the guy who had just been saying how small and meaningless everyone was also had a plan to overthrow the government.

“Yeah, I’ll come back to America and I’ll be the face of the revolution. Enter ska punk to the masses. The chill vibes will give them no choice by to agree with my political ideology and feats,” Alex said, shrugging a shoulder and raising an eyebrow, “Easy.”

“Easy,” Michael agreed, not even caring that they were incredibly close at this point.

“Save the good people, destroy the bad. Eat the rich,” Alex said simply. Michael agreed without hesitation.

Sadly, before he could enjoy anymore of Alex’s existence, the bus came to a stop and Alex took his music back.

“See, I got you on board with just a little bit of No Doubt,” Alex said, sliding past Michael without a second thought and being the first one off the bus.

Michael knew for a fact that Alex was better than everyone.

The day was long and Michael could still feel a layer of sweat on his skin as he sat on the floor beside the hotel bed. Alex was taking a shower and he was recounting the day’s events. Screaming into a canyon with Alex, walking through a national park with Alex a few feet in front of him, deciding to sit beside Alex on the bus ride back and sharing his music, and rolling his eyes at all the questions Isobel was sending him to ask why he sat with Alex.

Michael: I’m making friends fuck off

Isobel: well are you abandoning me at dinner too???

Michael: no i’ll sit with you and max

Michael: maybe alex liz and maria can sit with us too

Isobel: two trios don’t make a happy family, Michael

Michael: fuuuuuck off

Isobel: 😘

Michael dropped his phone and tilted his head back, grinning to himself as he thought about how good it felt to scream with Alex. Maybe, if anyone was on par with his species, it was him. That would make sense, right? Alex seemed to get it.

The bathroom door opened and Alex Manes walked out in a cloud of steam and Michael’s brain stopped working. Things slowed down and Alex walked out in slow motion, shirtless with a pair of sweats low on his hips. He was pulling on a shirt as he did so and the glory of his bare chest was gone too soon, but it didn’t stop Michael from staring slack-jawed and stupid.

“What?” Alex asked, snapping him out of his haze. He was eyeing him like he was being really fucking weird. Which, he was being really fucking weird. But he couldn’t help it. Alex was... was...

“Sorry,” Michael said, scrambling out of bed so he could take his own shower. Alex nodded slowly, heading over to his side of the room. Michael couldn’t help but watch him as he put his dirty clothes in the duffel bag and then stretched. His skin was red-tinted from the hot water and Michael wanted to touch and see if he could feel the heat.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

It wasn’t until he was in his own shower, this one much colder than the one Alex apparently took, and seeking the scent of the other boy’s body wash that it dawned on him what might be wrong. He froze for a solid five minutes, staring blankly at the wall as he thought about things and Alex and the fact that he was seconds away from doing exactly what he’d mocked Max for.

Michael took a steadying breath and licked his lips. Out of morbid curiosity, he closed his eyes and took himself in his hand, picturing Alex Manes and the millisecond long glimpse of his bare chest and the way the sun hit his face and the way he smiled and the way he screamed and the way he lit up when he described his plans for world domination and the way his long fingers looked curled around his phone. He ended up biting down on his lip so hard that he drew blood, out of breath and more confused than ever.

Maybe that was a fluke or Alex was a weird exception. He was undeniably pretty and relatively feminine and clearly more interesting than the rest of the human race, so maybe that had something to do with it. Or maybe it was his own unconfirmed but also not denied sexuality that had Michael’s curiosity sparked. It was normal for teenagers to get a little confused, right? He’d always assumed his species was above that, but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was just confused. He knew he liked women, that was undeniable and he knew he wasn’t faking it.

But the more he thought that he was just a little confused by Alex in particular, the more he realized that maybe it wasn’t normal to let his eyes linger in the locker room. Maybe it wasn’t normal to work so hard at keeping his eyes straight in juvie. Maybe it wasn’t normal to not be grossed out when he found himself focusing on the guy in porn.

Or maybe it was normal. Maybe it was okay.

He left the shower feeling ungodly drained and overwhelmed by his own thoughts. He’d expected a lot of things from this trip, but jacking off to his class trip roommate wasn’t exactly on the syllabus. The biggest discovery this weekend was supposed to be the visual of the Grand Canyon.

He swallowed hard as he tried to remember how to act normal, but Alex looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t help but feel the urge to test his budding theory on his own sexuality. Would Alex welcome it if he tried? Would that fight everyone seemed to expect happen?

“Dude, what did you do to your face?” Alex scoffed, sitting up and taking a step too close. Every hair on Michael’s body stood up at his close proximity, stupid teenage hormones not knowing when enough was enough. “That’s gonna scab.”

“Sorry,” Michael said. Alex furrowed his eyebrows and then huffed a laugh.

“Why are you apologizing to me? It’s your mouth,” Alex said. But his eyes lingered on Michael’s cracked and swelling bottom lip and that seemed to confirm all of Michael’s brand new theories all on it’s own.

They stared for a moment, too close and too aware. Michael could see confusion sift through Alex’s eyes like he was trying to gauge if he was reading things correctly. Perhaps his own face betrayed that he absolutely was.

“We should probably go down for dinner,” Alex said softly, mechanically. Michael nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” he said.

Twenty-four hours in and he was already questioning his entire self.

“Anything interesting yet?”

Michael snorted, eyes flicking over to Alex and the way he elongated his body in his chair. He was smiling fondly at Liz and Maria as they laughed about something over dinner. It was easy to see that he loved them and Michael’s stomach twisted with something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He supposed it had to do with the only people who ever gave him any semblance of love were Isobel and Max. Maybe he was jealous Alex could give it so freely to his friends who weren’t his intergalactic buddies.

“Yeah, actually,” Max said, clearing his throat. Isobel and Michael both raised intrigued eyebrows, giving him their attention as they leaned forward. “I think I’m gonna ask out Liz.”

Isobel and Michael both groaned and fell back into their chairs. Max just laughed.

“I’m serious this time! I’m gonna do it!” Max insisted.

“C’mon, man, what’s the point? We’ve got a couple months left of the school year and then the summer and then she’s going off to get a fancy degree or seven,” Michael said. Isobel shoved his shoulder, but he didn’t waver. Max shook his head.

“Nah, you don’t get it. We,” he paused, sighing happily, “We had a moment.”

“A moment?” Isobel asked.

“Yeah, like… one of those moments that are totally worth risking it all for, you know what I mean?” Max clarified.

Unwillingly, Michael’s eyes drifted over to where Alex was already looking his way. He could feel the tips of his ears turning red as Alex didn’t look away like most people did when they got caught staring. Instead, Alex raised his hand to his face and ran his thumb over his bottom lip. Michael involuntarily copied and discovered he was bleeding again. Alex gave a cool smile and mouthed ‘fuck humans’ before turning back to Liz and Maria.

Chills covered his skin as he looked back to his own dinner companions.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, “I know those moments.”

Night two alone with Alex Manes proved much more difficult than night one.

Tonight, Michael was aware of a deep seeded desire to touch him and listen to him speak. Tonight, he struggled to keep his eyes to himself as Alex traded his jeans for sweats in the middle of the room instead of going into the bathroom like the night before. Tonight, had to sit on his hands to keep from requesting permission to do something he shouldn’t‒like seeing if he was as good at getting another guy off as he was at getting himself off. It felt like the question for the ages. And to think he’d bothered questioning his alien origins when he could’ve been questioning what Alex’s mouth could do. How foolish of him to ignore that.

More importantly, how had he ever ignored Alex? He was smart and funny and gorgeous. How had he missed the attraction before? Maybe it had to do with Alex being smart and gorgeous. He was going to get out of here and do good shit. Michael still, even with that scholarship waiting for him, taunted him and reminded him he wasn’t going to do much.

“Are you okay? Did you get sun poisoned? You’ve been zoning out since we were on the bus,” Alex asked, “Got worse after your shower.”

Michael looked up at him from where he was seated on his bed and Alex was standing between the two. He was so fucking hot. Without thinking, Michael patted the bed beside him. Alex furrowed his eyebrows and didn’t move for a few seconds but slowly, slowly came to sit beside him.

“Jokes aside,” Michael started, mind still thinking of Max’s lack of hesitation when it came to Liz’s plans, “What do you actually want to do in the future?”

“Um,” Alex said, shifting slightly, “Getting the fuck out of Roswell is my only real goal. I hate it there.”

“Same,” Michael agreed.

“Yeah…” Alex said, “Guess that makes sense. We’re the two people with the most amount of fights in Roswell High history.”

Michael snorted, “You’re lucky. Your dad definitely used that fancy little title he’s got to keep you from being sent to juvie after you shattered Mason Glenn’s face.”

“Lucky,” Alex repeated, shaking his head, “I’m not lucky. Not with my dad.”

“Well, if it helps, I’m not lucky either,” Michael sighed, thinking about his shitty track record, “That fight I got into last year, almost deafened the guy in his left ear. Got me a couple months in juvie. Which, you know, maybe I am lucky. Most kids like me don’t get out that easy.”

“So the rumors are true then?” Alex asked. Michael huffed a laugh.

“Why are you so set on the rumors?” he wondered, turning to face him, “‘Cause it depends on which ones you’re talking about. I’m not sleeping with Iz if that’s the one you’re asking about.”

Despite his attempt at lightening the mood, Alex didn’t let him. His intense gaze wandered over Michael’s features and Michael clutched the sheets in his hand.

“The one where you live in your truck,” Alex stated bluntly.

“Okay, then is the one about you true?” Michael shot back, tilting his head, “Are you gay? Is that why you think about taking over the world? Is that why you like feeling small?”

Alex didn’t react in any type of physical way, but Michael wouldn’t have been surprised if Alex had started a fight then. Most of Alex’s fights started with someone calling him gay. Granted, it was usually yelling slurs at him to do so and not asking, but still.

“Is that why you wanna get out of Roswell?” Alex asked, ignoring his accusation, “Because here everyone turns a blind eye to a homeless teenager? Because it’s easier to say you live in a truck than to say you’re homeless?”

“Is that why you want to get out of Roswell? Because here everyone turns a blind eye to bullying? Because it’s easier to say you’re just other than to admit they’re in the wrong?”

Alex stared at him and Michael stared right back, both of them unwavering and serious. It was totally different from on the bus or on the cliff or standing close after a shower. This felt real. This felt… more. If those were moments, what was this? Because whatever it was, it was suffocating.

Then Alex was leaning forward.

Despite Michael’s prior thoughts and interest and despite how badly he wanted to, he jumped off the bed before Alex could do anything. It didn’t make that intense gaze feel any less all encompassing.

“I-I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” Michael said, heading to the bathroom and locking the door behind him. He stared at himself in the mirror, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. He was going to be kissed and he fled. That was definitely a first.

Then again, he’d never been faced with a boy trying to kiss him. Not just a boy, but a hot boy who seemed just as aware of the fucked up reality as he was. Which, again, made no goddamn sense. How the hell was Alex so aware and still able to smile and make jokes? For Michael, he knew there was more. He knew he was better. But Alex… Alex didn’t know that. He just thought humans were as good as it got. And he was still calling Michael out, still trying to force him to say something. He wasn’t turning a blind eye.

Michael gulped and stared at his reflection. He really would’ve liked to go back to the fun revelations.

By the time he exited the bathroom, the light was out and Alex was curled up in bed with his back towards Michael.

“Uh oh.”

“What?” Michael asked. Isobel was eyeing him with that knowing gaze as he sat beside her at breakfast. Alex had already been in the bathroom when Michael woke up and, when he came out, he made no mention of the night before. He’d given his good morning and then left the room. He didn’t seem angry. So why did Michael feel so guilty?

“I know that face,” she said, “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Michael sighed, “I just think I pissed Alex off.”

“Why? What’d you do?” she wondered. Michael sighed, looking to where Alex was notably not looking at him. He couldn’t tell her Alex went in to kiss him and he chickened out.

“Nothing, we just… talked, I guess, I don’t know,” Michael said, shrugging his shoulders. Isobel looked at him oddly.

“You’re 17, Michael, why are you acting like an old man?” she asked. He scoffed, ready to argue, but even he couldn’t deny that it was particularly weird that they had a conversation like that. But, then again, it just brought him back to the conclusion that there was something about him. He wasn’t like the rest of the human race and he wasn’t like the limited knowledge he had of his own species. He was… other. In a good way.

His eyes drifted back to Alex for a moment. Could he be a teenager with him? Was he worthy of sloppy kisses and self-discovery with him? Could they be kids and not have every conversation be laced with the underlying truths of their reality?

“You ever wanna take over the world and bring all the alien-destroys-New-York movies to life?” Michael asked her instead. Isobel sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Anyway,” Isobel said, leaning closer, “Apparently, Kyle Valenti stole a few bottles of alcohol from the kitchen. We’re gonna have a party tonight in his room after curfew since it’s the last night away from home. You should come, everyone else is.”

“Wasn’t one of the rules no parties?” Michael asked, “And no drinking?”

“Again, old man, when did you become against breaking rules?”

Michael licked his lips and looked over at Alex again. True. Since when did he have shit holding him back from doing what he wanted?

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll break rules.”

Just like the day before, it was hard to find anything interesting in where they were.

In theory, he could appreciate a national park and a museum, but Michael didn’t really give a shit. He would’ve been much more interested if they went to the Houston Space Station like was originally debated. But that was too expensive and going to national parks just wasn’t.

Unlike the day before, though, everyone was buzzing when they got on the bus to go back to the hotel. Everyone was texting and whispering about this party they were planning. Michael was considering going if things went badly with Alex, but that’s it. Only if things went bad with Alex.

This was the last night they were here, this was his last real shot at getting him alone. He wanted to try.

Besides, if Max made a move on Liz before he made a move on Alex, well, then they were all fucked.

He watched him throughout dinner, trying to think of what exactly he wanted to say. Maybe he could just tell him he thought he was hot, keep it simple. Or he could explain that, thinking about it, he’d actually liked him for a lot longer than he realized because it suddenly made a lot of sense why he’d been watching him for two years. Maybe Alex would take his confusion about his sexuality as a good enough answer and they could make out to help solidify that this wasn’t a weird boy crush. Not that he thought it was. He was confused about what this meant, but there was no confusion about the way Alex made him feel like his skin was being lit on fucking fire and like his mind was melting.

When they got back to the room, Michael quickly went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and make sure he didn’t smell. Everyone was getting ready for Valenti’s party. Time to prepare for his own.

“Hey, Alex, can we talk?” Michael asked as he stepped out of the bathroom. Alex looked up from where his phone and eyed him, nodding slightly.

Michael stepped closer, trying to find at least one of the starters to the plethora of conversations he’d had in his mind. He should say he liked him. He should say he didn’t mean to pull away. He should say that he accidentally had a second sexual awakening to seeing him shirtless. He should say so, so many things.

And instead he said none. Instead, he lunged forward and kissed him.

It was a short, chaste kiss, but it was enough for pieces to fall into place. That was definitely how that was supposed to feel. It probably had to do with Alex being superior. Where was a pedestal when you needed one?

“Um,” Alex said, taking a shaky breath as the kiss ended. Michael blinked a few times and pulled away a little more. Had he misread something? Alex licked his lips, looking at him like he didn’t get it. “Are-are… Is this a set up?”

“Huh?” Michael asked, furrowing his eyebrows. How the hell did he come to that conclusion?

“Is this one of those things where you kiss me and then ask me out and then I agree and then you stand me up and make fun of me with your friends?” he asked, hesitant rather than angry. Michael’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“What? No, oh my god, who did that?” Michael asked, voice soft. Alex shook his head dismissively, still eying him like he didn’t get it.

“You just kissed me.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, “I really wanna keep doing it too if you do.”

“There’s a party.”

“I’d rather we have our own.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough.”

“So you know I’m into guys and you’re questioning?”

“No,” Michael said, shrugging his shoulders, “I know you’re smart and beautiful and funny.”

Alex looked him up and down and that hesitance in his eyes slowly but surely bled into something else. His eyes darkened just a little and Michael’s stomach twisted. Alex slowly stepped back into his space, idle fingertips touching his elbows and slowly sliding up his arms and over his shoulders and over his neck and into his hair. He hadn’t even gotten another kiss and Michael felt like his brain had melted.

Alex cradled his head as he pulled him in for another kiss, this one packing much more of a purpose. He parted his lips and welcomed Alex’s tongue against his own. His hands reached for Alex’s hips, pulling him closer as he tilted his head to kiss him a little deeper. His tongue deliberately slid over his sore bottom lip, letting him know he was being careful not to kiss him too hard. Which would’ve been fine, but he didn’t actually care.

Michael pressed in harder and Alex smiled, tugging on his hair gently. Add that to the list of things to make his mind run wild.

They kissed for a while just standing there, both of them too hesitant to move in case they pushed a button that wasn’t willing to be pressed. But the kisses got more sloppy and the touches got more desperate, both of them swaying as they tried so hard to push in closer. Michael couldn’t remember a time he’d been so desperate to touch someone. Suddenly, there was no confusion at all about anything. It was just this, just them.

As Alex’s hands slid beneath his shirt, it reminded Michael of his little Grand Canyon speech. You take what you need, he’d said. Did this count? It felt like it counted. The more he kissed him, the more he realized he’d wanted to do this for a long time. He just… hadn’t let himself think that.

Michael pulled away to remove his shirt, diving back in for another kiss. Alex breathed a hot breath against his mouth as his hands raked over his bare chest, taking in every inch. No one had ever touched him like that. He wanted more.

“Wait,” Michael breathed. Alex snatched his hands away quickly, still breathing heavy as he pulled away to see what was wrong. Michael gave a reassuring smile. “Do you, uh, like, do you… know how to… like…”

Alex smiled at him in a way that could’ve been condescending, but distinctly wasn’t because it was him. He placed his hands on Michael’s chest again.

“Yeah,” he said, “Do you?”

Michael licked his lips and looked down between them. Alex was still fully clothed, but he really, really didn’t want him to be.

“Not, uh, not with a guy,” he admitted, swallowing as he met Alex’s eyes again. There was no judgement. “Kinda lost on how exactly that works.”

“Well, I can explain it to you,” Alex said, “If you want.”

Michael involuntarily moved forward, kissing him hotly. “I want.”

“Okay,” Alex breathed, smiling as he moved his hands up to fiddle with his hair. Michael felt like putty in his hands and he enjoyed every second of it. “But we don’t even have to go, like, that far. I don’t really have any… Like, I didn’t bring lube or anything, didn’t really anticipate this, so maybe we should just stick to the basics.”

“Basics?” Michael repeated. Alex nodded and gave him another kiss.

“If you want to,” Alex told him, “With me.”

“God, Alex,” Michael laughed, shaking his head, “I literally have never wanted anything more than you in my entire life. I feel like my heart is going to explode in my chest. I have never liked someone as much as I like you and it’s really made this weekend impossible to enjoy anything that wasn’t you.”

Alex stared at him for a moment before he softly nodded and pulled him back into a kiss, but this one was a little different. This one was slow and held every goddamn secret in the universe. Yes, they were small, but yes, they were everything.

“C’mon,” Alex said, grabbing his hands and tugging him towards the bed.

Michael followed him with a lifetime of anticipation.

A knock sounded on the door to signify that they should be awake.

Michael groaned and went to reach for his phone, but paused when he realized he had the weight of another body on his back. Every moment of the night before all rushed into his mind and he smiled to himself, both excited that he’d been bold enough and disappointed that they probably wouldn’t get the chance to do anything like that again any time soon.

But, then again, he had a truck waiting for him.

“Alex,” Michael said, carefully turning so as not to crush him or throw him off, “We gotta get up. Bus loads in like an hour.”

Alex sighed and lifted his head, looking up at him. Even in his sleep-hazed state, he grinned.

“You’ve got sex hair,” he said. Michael snorted and ran in hands through Alex’s hair.

“Haha, I wonder why.”

“Yeah, me too,” Alex teased, pushing himself up to kiss him again. That one led to another and another and they only broke when more persistent knocking came.

“Michael!” Isobel said, “Open up! I need you or I’m gonna die!”

Michael sighed at her dramatics and looked to Alex with a pout.

“Get dressed, we’ll pretend nothing happened,” Alex said and Michael nodded easily. They both got up and Michael had to brace himself against the wall, feeling a little off-kilter. Alex gave him a filthy grin. “Sore?” he asked innocently, waving two fingers at him. Michael huffed and held up his middle finger.

Eventually, they pulled themselves together and answered Isobel who didn’t seem to notice anything as she headed straight for Michael’s bed.

“She’s the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” Isobel groaned, “I can’t wait to get home.”

Michael spared a glance at Alex who went into the bathroom to pack all of his shit.

“I don’t know, I think I could entertain this trip for another night or two.”

“Yeah, well your roommate isn’t annoying,” Isobel scoffed. Michael grinned to himself.

“Yeah, you got that right.”

The ride back to Roswell was more than agonizing. Alex sat at the front and Michael sat with Isobel, the only contact they had being over text. It wasn’t enough. They still hadn’t really talked about what happens next. God, he wanted to know. He wanted everything.

He could imagine it easily: the two biggest troublemakers at Roswell High hooking up. They’d be an unstoppable team. The idea made him grin.

When they got back to the school after the multiple hours of trip they endured, Michael went to his truck and waited. Everyone else had their parents pick them up or drove their own cars back home. Things would just go back to normal. It was just a normal class trip.

Except Alex Manes didn’t have anyone pick him up and he didn’t have a ride. Instead, he just walked up to Michael's truck once most everyone was gone and took a deep breath.

“We should talk,” he said. Michael licked his lips and nodded towards his truck.

“Wanna go for a ride?” he asked. Alex grinned easily.

“Hell yeah I do.”

They definitely did a little more than talking.

Who knew the Grand Canyon could be so great?

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic

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cosmic-navel-gazin · 4 years

Photo

In which I chronicle my Legacy of Kain journey and bridge it with your boy Adam Warlock! (Part 5 of many, and MASSIVE, I MEAN, HUMOUNGOUS SPOILERS for Soul Reaver 2 and the 1970’s Warlock)

Awwwwwwwww yeah we are going there, these compositions are most definitely on purpose.

This is where I realize that my true purpose in this world is to draw and talk about obscure or forgotten works of fiction, and I embrace this destiny.

Ladies and gents, laughing times are over (not really though), sh*t gets very real again.

I guess it’s a bit late for this but if you have even the slightest interest in checking any of these properties out, do yourself a favor and go experience them first hand. If you just want to see me lose my mind and don’t really care about spoilers then please, proceed.

You know, when I started this little crossover of sorts, I was just having a laugh you know? It was just a cute little thing, I’ll write this one post and maybe I’ll get enough material for a second one and that’s it. THIS IS THE SEVENTH POST (even though it says Part 5).

Never, and I do mean never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be here one day, talking about having your past and your time-travelling-future selves meet and clash, of seeing your sanctimonious attitude and overall the worst about yourself personified and given free reign to go on bloodthirsty crusades showing off how much of a hypocrite you’ve bee- but wait, I am getting a bit ahead of myself.

I’ll get there I promise, let’s go back a bit.

Where we last left off, we managed to travel back to an even more distant past than we’ve been before. To the time of the great Vampire Purge, so that Raziel can meet this infamous ancient vampire who knows all the lore and might have the answers we seek on what exactly is causing the corruption of our world.

As we step out into this era of History we notice the fields covered with the Sarafan Order banners, and the impaled corpses and chopped-off heads of vampires. No different no doubt from the kindness vampires showed mankind later when they gained the upper hand during Kain’s 1.000 year old reign. Raziel seems a bit distraught by the sight since he assumed the Sarafan to be virtuous and heroic:

“For all the butchery of Moebius’s crusade, this massacre was somehow more chilling. The killing fields of the Sarafan betrayed a kind of orderly ruthlessness, the cold-blooded righteousness of the true believer.”

“Here at last in the flesh, I beheld my former brothers-in-arms, the warrior-priests of the Sarafan order; their lives devoted solely to the annihilation of the vampire plague. And while I confess I felt a twinge of longing, a pang of grief for what I had believed was my lost virtue, I regarded them now with none of the reverence I formally felt. For I had seen the human face of the vampires, and now I beheld the monstrousness of these men.”

While on the topic of genocidal holy wars, my boy Adam here had a bit of a run with a similar pious little group that goes by the name of Universal Church of Truth, who were going about doing a bit of cleaning throughout the galaxy:

Things don’t go so well:

Interestingly enough, I’ve learned of a deleted cutscene for Soul Reaver 2 that plays out very similarly to Adam’s first encounter with this “holy” order. There was this minor female vampire character that was being hunted down and would be executed by vampire hunters right in front of Raziel.

This scene was probably removed because they knew that almost 20 years later there would be some asshole on the internet trying to compare their games to obscure marvel comics of the 70’s.

But yeah bummer for Adam here, we’re a couple of pages in and he’s already failed to save someone. However, through the power of the Soul Gem, he’s able to retain her soul for a brief moment, letting us know more about these holy inquisitors:

Some of these methods don’t seem that far off from the Sarafan, especially on the twisting of good intentions part, but on a galactic scale:

Aye, a great bunch o’ fellas all around, if you submit and “fit in”:

Damn.

Hush Adam, I’ll get back to your predicament give me a moment. I just want the good people at home to keep both this church and the Magus, the god they worship in mind for later.

Now, back to the game. In the Sarafan Stronghold during the first hour of gameplay, Raziel made comments on the vampire he’s currently seeking while looking at some stained glass depictions:

“So this was the legendary Janos Audron - reputed to have been the most ancient and diabolical vampire to have ever existed. According to folklore, he lived high in the cliffs of Nosgoth’s northern mountains, and preyed mercilessly on the defenseless villagers below. His reign of terror ended when the Sarafan finally hunted him down and tore his throbbing heart from his still-living body. (…) But I wondered - could Janos Audron truly have been as monstrous as depicted here? Or was this merely artistic licence by the Sarafan, who sought to lionize themselves by demonizing their darkest enemy?

Keep these stained glass images in mind, they’ll also be important shortly. Neetheless to say, the hype was very real to meet this Janos Audron.

And as I kept hearing about this gentleman, I thought: “I really love this cast of pricks, where everyone speaks in half truths and is hiding something and has some hidden agenda, but you know, I kind of wish there was some slim ray of hope, of goodness and honor, just some good old plain chivalry and honesty. Maybe this Janos lad won’t be as bad as he was depicted back in the Sarafan Stronghold.”

It took us a while but we’re finally make it to his retreat.

I really love the entire segment, the hopelessness and feeling of dread while making your way through this place, probably my favourite puzzle area of the game. I also really love the music and architecture here.

When we do make it to the top, BOY OH BOY were my prayers answered!

Lo and behold, enter Raziel’s new daddy/mentor figure, my man JANOS AUDRON! Proabably the one decent and kind creature I’ve seen yet in these games (if you don’t count helpless human npcs who are just trying to live their lives but are caught in all these wars, slaughter and destruction).

FINALLY an understanding, moderate, compassionate man in the midst of all the lies and deception. I love him! Oh and he has what seems to be a Romanian accent. Maybe a nod to the granddaddy of all vampires: Dracula? I think his design is cool as well, so that helps.

Before we go into huge lore dumps and while on the topic of having a brief father/mentor figure for your protagonist when he’s utterly lost, alone and confused, I thought I’d bridge it with Adam’s own once foster parent, the High Evolutionary:

From the few minutes you get to know these dads they’re very different characters with different backstories and motivations. Janos is this sad lonely old man, the last of the ancient vampires and one who has been keeping himself alive solely for his sense of duty.

While the High Evolutionary was once a man called Herbert Wyndham who performed an experiment that evolved him into a godlike being. This experience proved to be such an assault on his senses and perceptions that he chose to encase himself in this armour. Like the name suggests he is obsessed with genetic manipulation and tampering of various kinds, it is his life’s ambition.

Despite his somewhat villainous appearance, he’s never portrayed as such from what little I’ve read, he’s just…a bit creepy. Like, he takes Adam in and is super stoked about adopting him, but he also values him not so much as a person per se as you and me would, but more as one would value an impressivly carved piece of work:

I don’t know, maybe it’s his metal face that doesn’t emote much; his sometimes questionable morality; maybe it’s the fact that Adam was 5 years old at this point, a baby boy, and this pink armoured deity is super hyped about him; there’s something a bit unsettling about this guy. Have some more dubious quotes I’ve stumbled upon:

All in all, I think he did care about him, in his own strange way:

Anyway, what’s important is that these adoptive dads serve a somewhat similar purpose, and that is to push/urge our ”“”“"heroes”“”“” (I say with many quotation marks) into a more benevolant role: to guide them in their messianic mission and save a corrupted world. Basically there to provide a chance for them to be good boys. Up until now their track record leaves much to be desired, and they’ve been quite lost on what they’re supposed to be and do.

Raziel:

“So it’s all true, then - what Kain and Vorador have told me - I really am some kind of unholy vampire messiah…”

Janos:

“Unholy? -no. Messiah… perhaps.”

Raziel:

“I don’t like that word - it smells of martyrdom.”

Janos:

“Raziel, your role in this world’s destiny is more crucial - and more benevolent - than you’ve allowed yourself to believe. Your journey will not be easy - dark powers are allied against you.”

Oh and both dads give their sons their toys (Soul Reaver and Soul Gem):

Back to the meeting with Janos, we finally learn tons of things, both new and others that have been hinted at throughout, namely:

Janos has been living a life of a recluse, alone, on top of the Aerie;

Janos knows of Raziel (some old legend I think) and has been waiting for him to hand him over the Soul Reaver, saying it is the key to save Nosgoth;

The Pillars of Nosgoth were erected by the ancient vampires and they were the rightful guardians. Janos was called to be th 10th guardian, the Keeper of the Reaver;

Over time this ancient race started to die out, with their history slowly being forgotten;

Humanity prospered and since the Pillars choose their guardians from birth and vampires were no longer born, humans were called to be their guardians but were “wholly ignorant of their true purpose.”

The Circle of human guardians is led to believe (by whom we do not yet know) that vampires are a cancer in the world. Janos warns that “with their vampire purge, the members of the Circle have assaulted the very architects of the Pillars they are sworn to protect (…) With every vampire they kill, the humans are slitting their own throats.”

Janos being a cool level-headed guy here when Raziel says he must hate mankind for all the suffering they’ve brought to him:

“They fear what they don’t understand; and they despise what they fear. But no - I do not hate them.”

I find it funny how Raziel asks if humanity should be forgiven for trying to exterminate the vampire kind and doesn’t realize that: one, he himself was exterminating vampires just a couple of moments ago back in SR1; and two, how he is just like how Janos describes humanity to be:

“They don’t understand what they’re doing. They are simply unenlightened… and vulnerable to manipulation.”

Again, this last line, completely unlike a certain blue shambling corpse I know. Not like him AT ALL.

Then, as they head inside, we learn something odd as Janos presents Raziel with the Reaver. You see, the two times Raziel has been close to the Soul Reaver still in its physical form, reality started to bend and distort (I show it off in this previous post).

When we met Kain and decided not to kill him, he explained that when: “two incarnations of the blade meet in time and space, a paradox is created, a temporal distortion powerful enough to derail history”

This distortion, or sense of displacement however, is nowhere to be found now when Janos presents the blade to him. Raziel feels nothing and says that “this nothingness is somehow worse…” and to get it away from him.

We learn the Reaver was forged by the same ancient vampire race that erected the Pillars (which we’ve seen hinted at when we explored the land and came accross all sorts of old murals).

But now THIS is when the game first impales me through the heart.

Me and Janos are interrupted by the Sarafan warriors who arrive carrying Moebius’ Staff (which disables vampires to the point of being barely able to move at all).

And of course! OF COURSE! Of course the moment my boy Raziel finds a truly positive influence in his life to guide and enlinghten him, and that was willing to put himself in danger in order to save him… he is axed! HEART RIPPED FROM HIS CHEST!

And by whom you ask? Who would do such a deed and kill my last ray of hope?

WHY, ME!

TWICE!

“Me” because I was the one to open an entrance to Janos’ up until then impenetrable retreat, and literally me: human Raziel of the Sarafan that lived during this time period and was head inquisitor!

A bit different from what was depicted back at the Sarafan Stronghold, we found several centuries later (putting the same image here again so you don’t have to scroll up to compare, am I swell or what?):

The Sarafan escape with Janos’ heart and the Reaver, while wraith Raziel has a final moment with Janos.

This part destroys me:

Raziel:

“Forgive me; I’m sorry… I failed you.”

Janos: (gently)

“No, Raziel. Perhaps this was my true purpose - simply to save your life this once.”

Raziel: (distraught)

“While I have taken yours…”

That last bit is probably my favourite line-read in the entire series so far (which is the most impossible thing to choose since there are so many great ones). But I think it’s the overwhelming sadness in Raziel’s voice that makes it memorable, you’ve never seen him feel like this for another creature.

Breaks my stone hardened heart every time I listen to it. And here’s why I think it’s an effective emotional scene, even though we only get a few minutes with Janos before he is murdered - it is because of contrast. Up until now everyone you meet is some degree of a bad or manipulative person, and you don’t really have a true friend or someone to confide in, there’s no one that really brings out the best in Raziel and it sucks because there is potential there. So when you introduce the apparently only decent and noble person in this god forsaken land and you’re so used to by now suspect and mistrust everyone, it is impactful because he was truth and honesty in a sea of deception and moral relativism. He was my light in the midst of the fog and the one who saw good in me. And right when you’re finally relaxing and getting confortable the game pulls the rug from under you.

Now, while on the topic of having your past and future meet, there was a little something about the meeting between Adam and the Universal Church of Truth that I’ve been saving up until now. If you remember, Adam was interrogating the young woman who was killed by the inquisitors about the church and the god they worship. When suddenly:

Good news is, Adam must’ve taken a left turn somewhere and ended up on the set for “Monty Python’s Life of Brian”, where he learned some latin:

This helped him quickly figure out the Magus’ identity:

Learn your dead tongues kids, you never know when it might come in handy when meeting your time travelling, thousands of years old future-self:

So as you can se, we have a similar self-discovery journey going on but reversed in a way. In Raziel’s case you play as his future self, who time travels back in time, meets his past self and sees what a hypocrite he’s been his entire life. In Adam’s case you follow his present self, who meets the Magus (his future self), who has travelled back in time 5.000 years, in which time he has built his empire. Meeting and confronting said empire/future self, leads Adam to see what a hypocrite he’s been his entire life. You see, both Adam and Raziel have always been their own worst enemy (their own shortcomings and character flaws). So it would be only natural that we get embodiments of the worst in them: Raziel, the human Sarafan Warrior and the Magus, their past and future selves respectively.

Oof, this was a long one, and I’ve reach the character limit. In the next post I’ll elaborate more on their characters and different selves; and we go through the roller-coaster of emotions that is the endgame for both these stories.

Look foward to me losing my mind even further while I go into time travelling, paradox shenanigans… oh, and look foward to happier times with COSMIC SUICIDE! See you in the near future.

#the infinity legacy #legacy of kain #soul reaver 2 #raziel #adam warlock #the magus #marvel comics #marvel cosmic #this post drained my spirit #my fan art

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stennnn06 · 4 years

Note

Rojascorp - 3. “What happened to your hand(s)?”

Writing Prompts: “What happened to your hand”... this is also sort of combined with “I like to think we’re more than ‘just friends’.” -- Set after Andrea comes to Nat’l City to take over CatCo with the premise that Rojascorp was absolutely A Big Thing in the past - before Andrea fucked it all up. Feeling angsty Rojascorp tonight, you’re welcome.

The garlic sizzles pleasantly as Andrea moves it around the pan. She flips the burner to low and turns back to her cutting board. The evening news drones in the background as she tops off her glass of wine, swirling it around once before taking a long sip. Once that's complete, she reaches for her favorite knife, watching the satisfying way the steel blade flashes under the lights of her kitchen.

"And why have one hero when you can have two?" The news anchor asks rhetorically, talking out to the masses. Andrea frowns, glancing up from her precise dissection of the large onion in front of her. "That's what citizens of National City must be thinking after Supergirl gets a little help from a well known friend."

The picture flashes to Supergirl, muscles flexing and hair flowing, all around godlike and immaculate, as she turns to her side with a dazzling smile that transcends simple camaraderie. Show off, Andrea snorts to herself. She doesn't particularly care if Supergirl wants to flaunt all over television. It's just like, we get it, okay? You're fucking flawless. Enough already. Ever since she's come to National City, it's Supergirl this, Girl of Steel that, all tight spandex and abdominal muscles and killer quads, and it’s just insufferable. How does anyone get any work done around this place?

She glances up again, noticing the way Supergirl's smile seems different tonight. It radiates a kind of reverence, as she gazes in silent awe at the woman standing next to her. Lena's face is flushed, her eyes curious at the attention thrown in her direction that seems, for once, to be overly positive. She mirrors Supergirl's expression -- positively beaming in her presence, and Andrea feels everything start to burn.

She knows that look. She covets that look. And, once upon a time, she had exactly that -- Lena Luthor, looking at her like a fucking hero. But it somehow wasn't enough. No, she couldn't just leave well enough alone. She had to be convinced -- to be tempted to trade it in. For what, in the end, she isn't entirely sure. But now she's here, back in the same city with the girl whose heart she broke, watching her stare at another woman.

And not just any woman. Fucking Supergirl.

Well if that isn't the universe's way of getting her back, she isn't sure what is.

She watches the way Lena is positively gushing, talking almost unprofessionally about how strong and powerful Supergirl is, her accent slow and heavy the way it always is when she's really laying it on thick. Andrea stands to watch as the anger comes to a boil right in her chest.

"Goddammit!" She calls out, frustrated, her eyes only seeing red. She throws down the knife in disgust. She doesn't even realize she's cut her hand, not right away. Not until she squeezes her eyes shut and feels a warm, sticky liquid oozing between her fingers. But not even that stings as bad as seeing Lena, all over the TV, fawning over someone impossibly out of Andrea's reach.

"Fuck," she mutters, opening her eyes and realizing the damage. She's usually more sure-handed in the kitchen, operating on autopilot and able to slice, dice, chop and sauté without even having to think about it. But tonight, she let herself get sloppy. Punishment, really, for all her transgressions. And she knows she deserves it, which makes it hurt all the more. Just as she reaches for a paper towel, a knock at the door disrupts her chaotic thoughts.

"Hold on!" Andrea calls out, shuffling around the apartment and cursing in loud, angry Spanish. She doesn't care if the person on the other side hears her, because she's already been inconvenienced enough today, thank you very fucking much. She turns the TV off, throwing the remote across the counter, not caring much where it lands. She positions the paper towel over her finger -- where it is immediately rendered useless, falling victim to the hefty slice on her knuckle, but it'll have to do. With her hand somewhat in tact, and her dignity less so, she pulls open the door.

A sullen Lena Luthor looks back at her from over the threshold, looking stunning and regal and altogether too much and Andrea feels her entire body root to the floor.

"Is this a bad time?" she asks softly. Her head tilts curiously to the side as she casts an appraising look at Andrea.

"No!" Andrea snaps, more forcefully than she intends. She clears her throat. "No, I was just ah--" she waves her hand awkwardly, letting the thought drift. "Nothing, come on in."

"What happened to your hand?" Lena asks, following Andrea into the condo. She knows Andrea to get a little overzealous in the kitchen, but she seems distracted, almost flustered. And every time that happens, it's usually one of Andrea's fingers that pay the price. She reaches for her hand, pushing aside the paper towel and turning her fingers over gently the way she always used to when Andrea would hurt herself, all those years ago.

She doesn't even realize what she's doing until she feels Andrea stiffen, her hand laying limply in her grip. Her palm is warm, her fingers perfectly clean and manicured, exactly the way Lena remembers. The cut looks deep, but not surgical, so she feels a little silly for being so concerned. Andrea doesn't say anything, allowing Lena to inspect the situation to her heart's content, which somehow makes it worse. She clears her throat, embarrassed at the careless way she forgets herself. Forgets her place.

"I think you'll live," Lena chuckles, wrapping it back up and letting her hand go.

"I got distracted," Andrea mumbles, shrugging, taking her hand back slowly. "I was caught up in the news."

"Still multi-tasking I see," Lena says, disappointed at how easy it is to slip back into fondness. The way she knows Andrea's habits, and can still picture them so clearly in her mind. She shakes her head to try to jolt it out of her.

"You were on there," Andrea admits, her eyes narrowing somewhat. She pauses. "I didn't realize you were so close with Supergirl."

She doesn't mean to say it, and isn't sure why she does, but just seeing Lena, standing proud and elegant in her kitchen forces her to feel unmoored. She wants to lay claim over her, in some weird, abstract way, even though she knows she no longer counts. But she tries anyway, as her heart pounds brokenly in her chest.

"And why should that bother you? I have a working relationship with Supergirl, just like I have with you," Lena twists her lips, avoiding Andrea's eyes. "It's hardly newsworthy."

"A working relationship," Andrea scoffs, feeling the anger churn deep in her gut. Lena is full of it if she can really come in here and spew that kind of garbage. "Is that what you'd call us?"

"That's being generous," Lena snarls, her eyes flashing dangerously. Andrea remembers it fondly: remembers the way Lena's moods were always volatile, the way one wrong comment could send her into a dark, lethal frenzy. She smiles at the familiar challenge.

"I see the way you look at her," Andrea says, the anger clawing at the back of her throat. "Supergirl." The name tastes bitter on her tongue. "I know that look."

"You don't know anything," Lena replies, shaking her head. She doesn't deny it outwardly, and Andrea feels the ache in her chest. "And you lost the ability to comment on it when you made your decision."

"It's not that simple, Lena."

"Oh, but it is," Lena argues, crossing her arms.

"We will never be that simple," Andrea says pointedly, as if this isn't going to send Lena over the edge. "You think you can call me to your office out of the blue after two years, and pretend we never cared about each other?"

"It seems to be working just fine," Lena shrugs, running her finger along the edge of Andrea's counter top.

"Working relationship," Andrea repeats, scoffing over the term and rolling her eyes. Just the mere thought of it is so comical she almost laughs. "Our relationship is a bit beyond that kind of definition, don't you think?"

"We do not have a relationship," Lena insists, her jaw setting defiantly. Andrea traces her jawline with her eyes, remembering every inch that she's journeyed with her lips, ever breath against her skin. "We aren't friends. We aren't anything."

"We used to be," Andrea sighs. It all feels exceptionally heavy all of a sudden. "And, you know just as well as I, that we've always been more than just friends, even when we weren't. You can't just pretend it didn't exist."

"Actually, I can," Lena challenges. "But somehow, the only thing I can't seem to forget is the way you broke my heart. So I guess neither of us can win, can we?"

Classic Lena. She will always have a response, stored up in that beautiful mind of hers. Andrea hates that it sets her nerves on fire, the way Lena is just always composed and ready, even when she's the one hurting. She also knows her pain is somewhat warranted, if not completely justified, but she wishes Lena would give her the benefit of the doubt. She never could stomach hearing Andrea’s side of things. But if she actually listened, instead of bulldozing in here with an agenda and several well-timed retorts, well, who knows where they'd be?

It wouldn't be like this, that's for sure. And it's torture. But it isn't in the cards. Lena is nothing if not stubborn in her beliefs. So, Andrea has no choice. She stiffens and squares her shoulders, as if bracing for a fight.

"Why are you here, then?" she asks carefully, realizing she has absolutely no idea. They certainly aren't on "drop in" terms, and, apparently, not even on friendly ones, so it's baffling that Lena would be here at all. She can tell she's struck a nerve, because Lena pauses, wringing her hands together in that nervous way she has when she's dancing around something, fully expecting a blow up.

Finally, she sets her jaw and forces her face to look boardroom ready -- practiced, unreadable, guarded. Andrea swallows heavily as she reaches into her pocket.

"To give you this." She pulls out a small jewelry box and places it on the counter. Andrea's face turns hot as she stares at it, her entire body fighting the contradicting chill that doesn't go with how she's feeling. "I don't want to have to owe you anything."

She remembers picking it out, remembers agonizing over every detail, even fighting with the jeweler to the point that she had to pay him extra just to keep him happy. She remembers nervously picking her way through dinner, feeling for the box in her pocket the entire time, convinced it was going to disappear before she ever found the right moment. She remembers proposing and the way Lena's eyes softened, her face melting into a relieved smile as Andrea stumbled through her speech, the tears running down her cheeks and later, down Andrea's own, as they kissed for what seemed like hours.

She reaches out, pulling the box forward. She turns it over in her hands, her throat thick, eyes burning with regret.

"Is this what you want?" she whispers, feeling the way her voice cracks.

"What I want?" Lena rolls her eyes, an angry, lethal smile on her face. "No, Andrea, none of this has ever been about what I want. But you left me, and I am not going to beg for you to come back."

Andrea swallows heavily, the tears welling behind her eyes. She doesn't want to cry. She doesn't want to do this now. It isn't right. But there it is, the evidence all neatly contained in a three dimensional package.

"I never meant to hurt you," Andrea starts, taking a shaky breath and avoiding Lena's eyes. "I never stopped loving you--"

Lena holds up her hand firmly. "I don't want to do this," she says, shutting it down as her eyes flutter. "If we are to work together, I need a clean slate."

Andrea clears her throat, turning over the options in her mind. If she doesn't accept, then she might be at odds with Lena forever. If she does, then at least she can hold on to a fragment of what they used to be. Maybe she can work with that.

"Consider it clean," Andrea says, each word killing her a little more than the last.

Lena nods once and turns for the door. She doesn't turn around, but she pauses at the threshold.

"Make sure you wrap your hand with something stronger," she reminds her softly, talking down to the ground. Then, just like that, she's gone, and Andrea is perfectly and wholly alone.

Through the tears that have finally started to fall, she notices the way her finger bleeds through the bandage, leaving a perfect, symmetrical ring that mocks her all the way around.

#rojascorp #it HURTS SO GOOD #i could write a million different versions of their break up to make up honestly #its just that good #thanks for the prompt!#Anonymous #sten says

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paperbagpetrichor · 4 years

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Hey! Is it okay for me to request Headcanons for jotaro, Giorno, and Joseph reacting to having an s/o who’s very clumsy in everyday life but when it comes to fighting she can take down groups of people twice her size and height ?

[ I hope it’s okay that I just did Joseph and Jotaro! I’m not far enough in to be confident in writing for p5 quite yet, my apologies, but I hope you enjoy these two! ]

J o s e p h ;;

At first he didn’t think much of you, other than that you were a hell of a cutie. Petite, almost always fumbling, both physically and around your words, a pink blush constantly tinting your cheeks, he initially believed you were shy and nervous in nature, and, to some degree, you were. Perhaps it was the fact that he didn’t think he’d see much of you throughout his journey, but he didn’t pay you much attention. Whenever he saw someone being a bit of a klutz, or tripping over their own words, nevertheless, his mind would always flash back to you, the girl who seemingly popped out of the background sheerly because of her awkwardness.

It quickly became clear that you weren’t going anywhere. As it turned out, you were one of Lisa Lisa’s most prized students, excelling in Hamon. Joseph thought himself insane the first time he and Caesar ran into you. That same small girl, bumbling about like a lost puppy, was a Hamon master? It was almost laughable. In fact, when Lisa Lisa introduced (or rather re-introduced) the two of you, he couldn’t help but let a laugh escape. “[Y/n]? [Y/n] [l/n]? That name must be common, then,” he’d chuckled, rolling his eyes, only for his trainer to cast him a stern glance as you emerged behind her, nearly tripping on the brick flooring. His jaw practically hit the ground.

Even during training he couldn’t believe it. Somehow, you - clumsy, small, innocent, and somewhat of a mess at times - were ahead of him. He clung to whatever little logic he could muster. After all, he hadn’t seen you use Hamon, so perhaps you were simply some relative of Lisa Lisa’s, visiting, exempt from practice because you genuinely didn’t know the first thing about anything, Lisa Lisa simply letting you live your dream. You were adorable, of course, but something like jealousy and uncertainty held Joseph back, generally avoiding you.

Only after your first sparring session did he realize how wrong he’d been. “I’ll go easy on you, love,” he’d reassured as the two of you set yourselves into position, only eliciting a small snort from you and a “you don’t need to” under your breath. The moment he plunged into battle you were able to pinpoint his moves fairly quickly, although, to be fair, after watching him train, you’d grown rather accustomed to his typical moves. You easily avoided jabs and kicks, dodging clacker balls with ease, allowing a few well-placed Hamon-filled punches and swift feints followed up by some powerful roundhouses left him breathless on his back in what felt like an instant. Through his panting, holding his head, he saw you step over him, for the first time looking and truly feeling like a giant, worthy of all the praise Lisa Lisa had given you. “You don’t need to go easy on me,” you informed with a good-natured smile, reaching out to help him back to his feet. Before he gathered the strength to take your hand, he still had to process it all, bewildered at the transformation from a girl who could hardly stand to one who could beat him almost instantaneously. “…No shit.”

From then on the three of you, Joseph, Caesar, and yourself, continued on the journey to defeat the Pillar Men. Although he’d seen your skills, Joseph still saw you as a flower, just barely in bloom and in need of protection. He couldn’t forgive himself if something happened to you. Not that he was particularly planning on you falling prey to enemy traps, but even after proving yourself in battle, he still continued to see the you he’d first met pretty much anywhere outside of battle. Thus, he couldn’t believe when you agreed to help him on his quest. He tried to talk you out of it. But, although your words were stuttered and repeated, you were committed, and nothing he could do would stop you. Eventually he found himself letting his fears go. Instead, he took to teasing you, pondering aloud how the pretty mess that was you could kick ass in battle.

Your first fights against the Pillar Men only continued to further his amazement. What took Joseph minutes took you seconds, and even as time progressed and he learned new techniques, you always seemed to be just ahead of him. Something about the sight of you taking on ancient super-human godlike beings, easily twice your size both in terms of height and muscle, always managed to astonish him. Although he continued to tease you, he genuinely did admire you. His affection built but he hid it beneath playful words. “You don’t mess about, do you?” he’d joke after a battle, when the both of you were finally able to catch a break. You would smile and shake your head. “Not in a fight, at least.” A giggle would follow, and he’d run a hand through your hair. You were absolutely precious.

After Caesar’s death, the two of you only grew closer, you left wordless at the loss of your friend while Joseph was tormented equally in yells and cries out for his lost partner. You both tried to help one another get through it, and although evidently your fighting - both of yours - was impacted poorly initially, the two of you quickly learned to read one another to step in should the other need a moment. In the end your grief only made both of you stronger and more determined to end it all. “You absolutely confuse me, you know,” he’d admit with a lazy smile when it was just the two of you alone. You would look at him with innocent eyes and inquire, “Is that a bad thing?” “Not at all.” He paused, and suddenly planted a kiss on your cheek. “In fact, I think that’s why I love you.”

J o t a r o ;;

The instant he heard his klutz of a classmate had a stand, he felt like the world had been flipped on its side. How were people like him and people like you even remotely similar? You were practically half his height, almost always stumbling in the hallways, tripping over your own feet and stringing your words together as gracefully as tangled Christmas lights in mid-July. Quite frankly he thought you were perhaps one of the weakest people he’d ever known. Your antics were precisely the opposite of his, and he couldn’t care less.

He gave a heavy sigh and tipped his hat down to hide the dissatisfaction that twisted his face when you were recruited to fight Dio. All you were going to be was dead weight; someone whose constant mistakes would not only drag the group down but possibly risk all of their lives, undoubtedly forcing the more compassionate Crusaders to help you rather than finish up battle. He, his grandfather, Kakyoin, and Avdol were well-trained. And up against an immortal being. And then…there was you. You could hardly make it up the stairs without your foot catching one of the ledges, and for some godforsaken reason, the others had made the extremely bright decision to take you to fight a person equivalent to a god of sorts.

The first time you were truly able to shine was in the fight against Polnareff. As most of your group fell into defense, in unfamiliar territory against a powerful man with an equally powerful stand, not to mention a minion of Dio, it was only Jotaro and, surprisingly enough, you, who took to offense. Before anyone could so much as get a hit in, you were lunging at him, deftly avoiding his quick movements and flashing about at an unprecedented pace, setting elaborate ruses to catch him off guard and swiftly landing the first blows within seconds, showing no intention of stopping as you continued to watch for his movements and make your moves. After a moment of shock, Jotaro joined you, and even though it was you who ultimately took him down, he still couldn’t believe his eyes. Perhaps it had just been a stroke of luck. That had to be it.

You became fast friends with the other members of your team, especially Kakyoin, but Jotaro, given his reserved nature, atop his doubt at your abilities, remained rather cold to you. It took a good few battles for him to realize that this wasn’t the work of some lucky streak. Somehow, that same clumsy schoolgirl that he’d found a hindrance was now a warrior on the front lines, tackling enemy after enemy, always managing to find weak points and strike viciously, rivaling, if not surpassing, his own ability. Eventually an odd sort of respect bloomed in his chest for you. It rose with every moment in battle, but wavered every moment outside it. Nonetheless, he figured he should at least stop isolating himself from you, especially as the two of you often wound up working together to take down an enemy. Your nature was still off-putting for him, but he found you to be a very sweet girl, strong not only in battle but also in mind, even if lacking in other departments. The two of you began coordinating your abilities for the best outcomes possible, and, in doing so, found affection to one another.

Although he’d never admit it, he was falling hard for you, both the silly klutz and the talented fighter all in one. He noticed you seemed to feel the same. Often the two of you spent your free time together, even if it was in silence, partially because of Jotaro’s stoic personality and your quietness so as to prevent you from fumbling your words and appearing stupid. But as time passed, the two of you opened up to one another (at least, as much as could be expected). His seriousness played off well with your innocence, and although he’d always find himself giving his signature yare yare daze every time you wound up messing something up, he learned to appreciate it as a part of you.

After the primary bridge of your friendship - Kakyoin - was hospitalized, he grew frustratingly concerned for you, and you for him. He seemed much more protective of you, strangely so, not just to you but to everyone, and although you would always assure him you’d be fine a sense of duty to keep you safe would still cloud his mind, only to slowly dissipate as you proved your skills over and over, countless times in countless battles.

“I - um, I probably annoy you a lot,” you confessed one day, after defeating an enemy stand and having a rare moment of peace in a small town, browsing the scenery, just you and Jotaro, your cheeks flushing as you continued, “s-so thanks for putting up with me.” A nervous giggle escaped you, the redness tinting your face only growing in saturation as you prepared yourself for your next words, continuing slowly, voice wavering despite your best attempts to remain calm, “And I’ve never really…done this before, but I’ve never really felt like this before, and so what I’m trying to say - what I mean is - I think I love you.” You closed your eyes tight, unwilling to see the expression on his face, only for a ruffling of clothing and a small grunt of acknowledgement to cause you to peek. Jotaro had pulled his hat down over his face, put you could see a small shade of pink rising on his cheeks, mumbling a small all-too-familiar phrase. Your heart was beating a million miles a minute - surely he’d reject you. But instead, you found yourself with his hand on your shoulder, holding you firmly as though unwilling to let go. “Then do me a favor, and stop tripping over yourself.” It wasn’t a yes, but as he brushed a few stray strands of your hair back into place, you grinned like an idiot. It was just as good as a yes, in your eyes.

The first time Jotaro ever said the words ‘I love you’ weren’t to his mother, or father, or any of his family or friends. They were to the only one he truly, genuinely loved, with every inch of his body and mind and heart, who made his heart race and brain cloud and who he couldn’t start to imagine his life without then: you. It was right before the battle with Dio when he pulled you aside, and, without any buildup, simply spoke the words with passion. Before you even had the time to process them he was kissing you, holding you closer than ever before, and in his embrace the two of you formed a pact: no matter what, you were both going to make it through this, and when you were done, and the past was simply that, the past, you would begin your bright future, together.

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