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xcherryerim · 1 month

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Si tú me quisieras

(If you loved me)

Mike schmidt x Gn!reader | wc: 2.2k

“Si tú me quisieras, el amor que quisieras lo tendrías conmigo. No soy cursilera, pero si me quisieras, sería todo distinto” — Si tú me quisieras by Nia Vanie & Adrian Bello

notes: it seems like I love writing sappy stuff for Mike at 1-4 am. I didn’t really revise this so sorry if there is many mistakes or repeated words ✨ Also the lyrics in this story is the same as the one from the intro (and yes. Mike knows spanish here)

Summary: As time goes by, it becomes increasingly difficult for Mike not to hide the secrets that are troubling him. He has had enough and decides to reveal his feelings to you, his best friend.

You caught sight of Mike wearing the same shade of sage green shirt you were wearing. With a deep breath, you called out to him, "No, no! Change, please. That's too much of a coincidence!”

Mike sighed heavily, slamming the car door shut behind him. His eyes narrowed, frustration etched onto his face. "Can you give me a break? This is the only clean shirt I have left!"

Reluctantly, you let out a frustrated groan. It wasn't about the shirt or the coincidences; it was about how deeply it affected you every time he wore that particular color. But you knew pushing him further wouldn't solve anything. So instead, you relented, "Fine, fine."

Why does it matter anyway?" he asked, increasing the volume of the radio in an attempt to cover up his unease.

Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel as you tried to explain your concern. "Because people are going to think we're a couple,"

Mike couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. He had been hoping that today would be the day when you finally noticed him in the way he wanted you to. But here he was.

“But like, we aren’t so it doesn't matter, does it?”

“I guess.” You shrugged.

You started to suggest what movie to watch at the end of the day. A little tradition you guys did after running errands together, but Mike was staring at the street, drowning in his thoughts. Did you hate the idea of dating him that much?

“No hay nada que pueda hacer que me veas, y eso me duele tanto. Y aunque tú no me quieras como yo te quiero yo te seguiré amando.” / “There's nothing I can do to make you look at me, and that breaks me. Even if you don’t love me like I love you, I'll still adore you.”

"Isn't this the song that you like, Mike?" you asked, a small smile forming on your lips.

Mike's response was quiet and subdued. "Uh, yeah."

He didn't like the song, not really. He related to it, to every verse, word, and beat. It was a reflection of his feelings, a mirror to his unspoken thoughts and emotions. The lyrics echoed through the car, resonating with both of you in different ways.

“Dicen que de amor nadie se muere, pero si este dolor es la alternativa, prefiero la muerte” / “They say no one dies out of love, but if this pain is the alternative, I rather die.”

Mike sat silently next to you, the strum of guitar strings and the singer's melodic voice echoing throughout the car. A wave of disappointment washed over him, making the atmosphere in the vehicle almost suffocating. You could sense his discomfort, but you pressed on, trying to stay focused on the road ahead.

“Te estoy amando aunque no te diga nada. Estoy guardando este secreto para mí en el fondo de mi alma. Si tú me quisieras, no perdería ni un minuto más. Me entregaría con sinceridad, si te quedas conmigo.” / “I'm loving you even if I keep quiet. I’m keeping this secret in the depths of my soul. If you loved me, I wouldn't lose another minute more. I’ll sincerely give myself to you, if you stay with me.”

…

Feeling the need to intervene, Mike quickly stepped in to assist an elderly woman who was struggling to reach for a specific medicine. "Oh, let me help with that," he said, his voice filled with genuine kindness. As he handed her the item she needed, a warm smile spread across his lips, and you couldn't help but feel proud of his compassionate nature.

The woman thanked him graciously, her eyes twinkling with gratitude. "Thank you, sweetheart," she said, her gaze shifting between you both. "You two look like a nice couple. It reminds me of when my late husband and I used to go shopping together."

A sudden flush crept up your cheeks as the weight of her words settled upon the both of you. You knew it wasn't intentional, but the implication made your heart race faster than it should. Swallowing hard, you felt the need to clarify things.

"We're not a couple," you quickly replied, your voice tinged with slight awkwardness. The heat from your blush radiated outward, an audible confession of your true feelings.

Mike smiled gently at you, his eyes dancing with a mix of mirth and sadness. "Definitely not a couple," he affirmed, a hint of longing lurking beneath the surface.

As he turned to face you, he couldn't help but notice the defensive posture you took, your arms firmly crossed over your chest. Was there pain in your eyes? No, it couldn't be. He pushed the thought aside, choosing to focus on the present moment.

"Well, you seem pretty insulted by that," he remarked casually, attempting to shift the topic away from the elephant in the room.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “What? I’m not good enough for you?” Your words were laced with humor, but the underlying emotion was undeniable. There was a yearning, a desire for something more.

Mike sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he shook his head. "We are not having this conversation again," he stated firmly. Today, he simply couldn't muster the energy for the friendly flirtation that had become a routine between the two of you.

The innocent, fun activity of grocery shopping quickly transformed into something far more uncomfortable between the two of you. The mood had shifted dramatically, leaving behind a heavy silence that seemed to grow more oppressive with every passing second.

Mike could no longer mask his emotions – his face bore the unmistakable signs of anger, complete with furrowed eyebrows and heavy breathing. His movements became more forceful as he tossed items into the cart, each action an expression of the tumultuous emotions churning within him.

Unable to bear the tension any longer, you hesitantly asked, "Are you alright?" The question hung in the air, seemingly adding fuel to the fire. The guilt you felt for asking it gnawed at your insides, knowing that you might have only exacerbated the situation.

Mike glared at you, his dark eyes flashing with hurt and resentment. At that moment, he couldn't bring himself to answer your question.

As you tried to find a way to bridge the gap, you couldn't help but wonder if this was truly the last straw in maintaining the delicate balance of your friendship. For years, the two of you had shared laughter, tears, and dreams, but now you stood on the precipice of something unfamiliar and uncertain.

…

To lighten the mood, you attempted a weak joke, "Where else, boss?" but it fell flat in the wake of the tension between the two of you.

Mike provided a terse response, focusing on giving directions to Walmart without acknowledging your attempt at humor. "I need to get a few things for Abby, she's doing a project for school," he said, buckling his seatbelt.

Attempting to ignore the growing discord, you asked, "Oh, are there any close by?" and started the car, navigating the streets according to the directions Mike had given you. However, your nerves got the better of you, and you found yourself missing turns and getting lost.

Each error only served to fuel the fire. Mike's frustration grew with every misstep, a slow burn that threatened to consume the both of you. And then, finally, it boiled over. "Left, I said fucking left!" he shouted, his voice cracking with the strain of holding back his emotions.

"My fucking god. Can you drive?"

Stung by his harsh words, you couldn't help but retaliate. "What the hell is your problem? Why are you suddenly acting like a bitch?" Angry tears pricked at your eyes, the frustration of the day taking its toll on your composure.

His eyes locked onto yours, the transit stretching on as he struggled to find the right words. Finally, he snapped, "Because you're terrible at driving!" It was a feeble excuse, an attempt to deflect from the real issue that loomed between you.

Your heart sank as you demanded answers, pleading with him to reveal the truth. "I'm not stupid, Mike. Tell me what is it!"

Mike's jaw clenched tightly, his mind racing as he tried to find the words to articulate his thoughts. But the harder he tried, the more elusive the truth seemed to become. The weight of the question pressed down upon him, threatening to crush the fragile foundation of their friendship.

Finally, he posed the question that hung between him like a cloud. "Do you hate the idea of being with me?" His heart pounded in your chest, waiting for your response, fear and hope to battle within him.

"What? Am I disgusting to you? Is it because I don't have a set job? Why?"

The weight of those words hung heavily between you, the car falling silent except for the hum of the engine. In that moment, everything felt on the line – your friendship, your future, and the truth that had been bubbling under the surface for so long.

"I never said that," you responded, your voice shaking with hurt and confusion. You grasped for some semblance of control amidst the chaos of your emotions.

"Well, you don't have to!" Mike declared, his voice wavering. Years of unspoken feelings finally burst forth, spilling out in a torrent of raw honesty. "We've avoided this for years. We're not friends!" The accusation hung in the air.

Mike recounted memories that flooded your minds, moments shared between the two of you that transcended the boundaries of friendship. "Holding hands at IKEA? Almost kissing? Showering together and almost having shower sex?"

With a bitter laugh, Mike snarled, "Friends, my balls. We're more than that, and we've been avoiding the truth for too long. It's time to face it."

"I just didn't know you liked me..." you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the truth bore down on you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief mixed with the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume you.

Mike's eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension between you seemed to dissipate. "I've liked you for a long time," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I was scared to say anything, scared of losing you as a friend."

The car fell silent once more, the hum of the engine the only sound that broke the heavy silence. At that moment, the two of you sat there, grappling with the new reality that had been laid bare between you. The path forward was uncertain, but one thing was clear – the friendship you had cherished for so long has now changed.

Mike sighed deeply, attempting to gather his thoughts and steady his escalating emotions. "I understand if you don't want to ever see me again," he murmured, his tone filled with a combination of regret and resignation. Despite the turmoil, he reached out and gripped your hand tightly, a silent plea for understanding.

"But, if that is the case," he continued, his voice catching in his throat, "at least let me kiss you... for the first and last time." The request hung in the air, heavy with the implication of finality.

You felt your body tremble at his words, a mix of excitement and fear coursing through you. The prospect of sharing this intimate moment with Mike, the one person you'd always cared for, both thrilled and terrified you.

"I don't want to die without knowing what it feels like to kiss you," he said, his voice filled with a mix of longing and desperation. The weight of the moment bore down on both of you, the unspoken emotions finally giving voice.

"And you won't have to," you whispered, desperation mingling with determination in your voice. Without another word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you until your lips met his in a searing kiss that echoed the years of longing that had built up between you.

Mike hesitated for only a moment before responding, his arms wrapping around you as the passion of the moment took hold. The weight of the past years melted away, replaced by the intensity of the present. For once, the uncertainty that had plagued your friendship was gone, replaced instead by the electric connection that had always been there, hiding just beneath the surface.

As the kiss lingered, you began to realize that this was not the end, but the beginning of a new chapter for you both. The path forward may be fraught with uncertainty, but you were ready to face it together, finally embracing the love that had grown between you.

Fin, Hope you enjoyed! I just wanted to write more than smut 😪

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt headcanons #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt x reader #mike schimdt x reader #mike schimdt smut #mike schmidt smut #mike schimdt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x gn!reader #gender neutral reader

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xxavengingangelxx · 5 months

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Somewhere Only We Know 7/?

Part 7 and drawing to a close soon! I feel like there should've been more Graves scenes in MWIII ;)

Summary: Val tries to hold her own again Makarov but is unsure if she will be able to. Makarov can do a lot of damage in a little amount of time, can't he? There is smut in this chapter so MDNI!

Triggers: Implied (but no actual!) pregnancy loss, tipsy/drunk/intoxicated sex, threatened noncon (but no actual noncon). Let me know if I missed any, please!

Taglist: @bellgraves, @unicorngirly1 (thanks for the chats, as always! :) ), @lily-lily131313, @sharksausages, @shepgurl - if you want on or off the list, lemme know :)

Your blindfold was yanked off…

And there he was, right before you.

Vladimir Makarov.

And then he said something…the last thing you expected him to say. He said it in that characteristic Russian accent he was so well known for.

“Hi, Val,”

And it took everything in your not to cry and beg to be released. Because fuck this. You should’ve stood up to Graves and told him no, that you couldn’t, in your condition, be bait.

So you used your second language as a ploy. “Quien es Val? Ni me recuerdo de mi nombre y no se donde estoy.” You asked who Val was and told him you didn’t even remember your name nor did you know where you were.

And Makarov, the man of many tricks up his sleeve, surprised you when he responded in Spanish. “Te conozco, Val. Eres la puta de Graves, si?”

And that pissed you off. He said he knew you and asked you to confirm that you were essentially Graves’s slut, yeah?

“Go fuck yourself, Makarov,” and there, that line, and your lie fell apart. Fuck your emotions and your mood swings and your frontal lobe that refused to work ever since you found out you were pregnant.

And with that he smacked you. Hard. So hard you cried out and almost fell sideways.

“American brat,” Makarov spat with venom. He knelt in front of you, dark eyes looking downright into your soul. He was wearing a dark suit with a white shirt just visible under his bulletproof vest. “My men said you mentioned No Russian.”

“I was just communicating to your dimwits that I don’t speak Russian.”

Makarov smiled but there was no humor in his tone and the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Shall I make you scream like my men are doing to your Shadow friend?”

You shook your head.

Makarov reached out towards you and brushed your hair from your face. And you flinched.

“He tortured you, no?”

You met his gaze but you didn’t answer him.

“I know the look,” Makarov pressed on. “You broke,”

And despite your best efforts your eyes got watery and teary.

“I don’t think you could mentally or physically handle another interrogation, hmm?”

You shook your head and the action was enough to make tears fall down your face. “I’m pregnant,” as soon as you said it you wished you hadn’t because you didn’t feel Makarov would take any pity on you because of it.

Makarov laughed cruelly. “Graves’s?”

You ignored him.

“You’re too pretty for him, love,”

“Fuck off,” you snapped. You saw that by the look on his face it took everything in him not to hit you again.

“I believe,” Makarov paused before continuing, “that for some reason not only do you know something about No Russian but that you have valuable information about Shadow Company.”

“I don’t,” you lied. Now you didn’t know shit about No Russian but you knew a few ins and outs of Shadow Company.

“Your lies only serve to disappoint me,” Makarov said darkly. “Graves trusts you. You’re carrying his child, how could he not?”

You scoffed. “He hasn’t told me anything about his company.”

“I know you know things, Val,” Makarov stood. And he produced a firearm.

“What’re you doing?” you asked. Because this was getting scary. Is this how you were going to die?

“Clearly, you respond to harsher forms of questioning,” Makarov stated. “I shoot,” he took several steps away. “You vest catches the bullet. Worst case for you? Broken ribs.” He aimed slightly lower than your chest, towards your abdomen. “For that kid inside you? Probably worse results,”

“I don’t know anything about Shadow,” you reiterated, getting desperate.

Makarov’s gaze turned deadly and he loaded a bullet in the chamber. “How about I take care of that bastard child and fuck another one into you?”

And you sobbed, broke your brave, defiant persona.

“Don’t!” you screamed. You hoped your shriek would bring Shadows and Graves running.

You couldn’t take this, you couldn’t. You leaned forward as far as you could, trying to protect the child you were carrying. You’d rather be killed than lose that child although you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was because that child offered you a chance at some sense of normalcy. Maybe because deep down you loved Graves with a twisted kind of love and that child was the only thing that might keep you together with him forever. You wanted a family, was that too much to ask? Fuck. Fuck.

And then.

Gunfire outside.

You took the opportunity with the added noise to focus on snapping the zipties behind you like Graves had taught you.

Makarov walked over to you and when he saw your hands were free he yelled at you in Russian. You assumed he was cursing you out. You dodged a kick, intended for your stomach, the homicidal bastard. And so when he reached for you, you launched a punch.

But missed.

All hell was breaking out around you and Makarov and yet here he was focused on you. Was it because he knew what a valuable hostage you’d make or was it because he knew about the fucked up relationship you had with Graves and that it would destroy him if he killed you? Or worse took you? Maybe both.

Shadows were targeting some of Makarov’s men and Makarov’s men were targeting Shadows by returning fire. Friendly fire was a real threat here as it was close combat.

Your ears were ringing and you were delirious with how tired you were but still…you fought.

In his bid to get you under control, Makarov was getting enraged. But you weren’t giving up because you weren’t fighting for you. You were fighting for your child and for the chance to see Graves again.

So when Makarov, a known war criminal and sadist, tried kneeing your in the stomach, you reached up and scratched his face. With force.

Makarov yelled in pain and in frustration and in rage. But it gave you enough time that your small frame was able to slip away. You tried crawling away but Makarov grabbed your ankle. The grip was tight enough to make you cry out in pain and you went from a position of being on your hands and knees to one where you fell flat on your chest and stomach, the force knocking the wind out of you.

Makarov then made quick work of twisting your ankle, making you scream in pain.

“I like that sound,” Makarov grinned sadistically as he yanked you back towards him. You scraped your nails and fingertips raw trying to claw the cold cement floor trying to find anything to prevent you from being pulled back to him. But he had you under him again and he straddled you, preventing your escape. He raised a hand, no a closed fist, that motherfucker was about to hit you with a closed fist and so you raised your arms up in front of your face in desperate bid to protect yourself when…

You heard a command from none other than Graves himself. And a bark. And then watched as Graves released Riley’s leash.

The look on Makarov’s face said it all. He knew when he was outgunned. Makarov was brave and liked risks but one thing Makarov was not was stupid. Makarov always wanted to live to fight another day. And he knew that Riley just might move too fast to be shot.

“I’ve caught your scent, Val,” Makarov grinned. “I will see you again.”

And then he was gone his men covering him with return fire.

And you could only lie there and cover your ears, curling in on yourself. Because Makarov was gone. And he was alive. And he promised to find you again.

Riley caught up to you and stood over you, barking and snarling when the enemy so much as looked at you.

“Can you walk?” Graves’s voice sounded muffled.

“I think my ankle’s broken,” you cried.

So Graves carried you. And you leaned into his touch as much as you could and passed out.

“Consider yourself out of the field,” Graves’s calm voice slowly brought you back to consciousness.

You were in a hospital. Somewhere. You never really knew where you were. Not since Graves took you anyway. Your brain did some drugged mental gymnastics and wondered if being a hospital meant you were going to be flagged and taken into custody again.

“Why’m I here?” you mind jumped to the worst. Had you lost— “Did I lose him?” tears filled your eyes.

Graves sat next to you and his scent, his body being in contact with yours brought you instant calm.

“What makes you think you’re having a he?”

“Mother’s instinct,” you replied.

“Well then,” Graves responded. “He’s fine.”

“Motherfucker got away, didn’t he?”

“Relax, Val,” Graves stated. “And no. We were pushed out by Makarov and his men. Still didn’t get my man back and they’re torturing him.”

“Sorry,” you said. Because you knew Shadow Company was like a family to Graves.

“Not your fault,” Graves comforted.

“It sucks,”

“You know what doesn’t suck though?”

“What’s that?”

Graves pulled something out a velcroed pocket on his vest. It was a small picture and he handed it to you.

“Since you insist on knowing through mother’s instinct, him,”

And that was the first time you were given an ultrasound image of the tiny life growing inside you. So you teared up.

“Why’re you cryin’?”

“Graves you have—”

“Phil,” he corrected.

“Phil you have a lot to learn about emotions,” you sniffled. You ran your fingers over the image.

“Now you know why I’m such a hard ass,” Graves stated.

You gave him a confused glance.

“You can’t take that,” he signaled at the small image, “from me.” He elaborated, saying, “And you’re sure as well not taking you from me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. Where could you go even if you wanted to? It was either a military prison in the UK, Makarov, or Graves. You had no other options.

“No one will love ya’ll like I do, Val,”

You nodded. It was starting to sink in. So you returned the gesture. Partly because you meant it and if you were a hundred percent honest, you were still scared of the man. “I love you,”

“Besides, what’s not to love about you? You’re a bad ass,” he smirked.

“I’m in a hospital,”

“You held your own again Vladimir fuckin’ Makarov,”

“And he kicked my ass,” you continued.

“Doesn’t matter,” Graves interrupted. “You won’t be seeing him again because you’re outta the field. You’re workin’ intel from now on.”

You wanted to tell Graves that Makarov had threatened to find you, that he had pretty much told you he’d caught your scent like a rabid animal catches scent of prey.

And that terrified you. Because now, unlike months ago, you had a lot more to lose.

That night, thankfully, you weren’t plague by nightmares. You actually dreamt of when you first met Graves.

“They call me Val,” you extended your hand.

“That’s…mysterious,” Phillip Graves, the CEO of the private military group known as Shadow Company, smirked and winked at you and if you weren’t mistaken, eyed you up and down. He shook your hand strongly but you could tell it wasn’t even half his strength.

You smiled coyly and felt your face grow warm. Great. So you were blushing in front of your new commander and in front of your captain.

You were about to turn and walk away in shame. To go back to your room where you were going to scream into your pillow for acting like an idiot and full on blushing in front of your new commander and Captain Price. The last thing you needed your Captain thinking was that you were sleeping around again. You and Soap had gotten an earful about that a year ago.

“Looks like we’re the only two Americans on this leg of the tour, huh?” Graves’s voice drew you back and you turned back towards him.

You huffed a nervous laugh. And now you were the one who eyed him up and down. He was hot and tall and just all around fucking attractive. You wondered what he would taste like on your tongue and what he would feel like inside you. And your stupid self bit your bottom lip to prevent from laughing nervously anymore before answering, “Yessir,” tapping the American flag on the front of your vest.

“Price told me you speak Spanish, too?”

“Correct, sir,”

“What’re you doing tonight, bonita?” Graves drawled. He was eyeing you shamelessly and he was trying to make it obvious.

And you laughed nervously again before stepping closer to him. He smelled of cologne, aftershave, and gun oil and it only made him more attractive. You got on your toes and he must have gotten the idea that you wanted to whisper to him because he learned towards you.

“I was actually planning on sneakin’ outta here to get a drink,” you murmured.

“I’m game,” Graves responded.

And not too much later you were getting into Graves’s Jeep. You were both sans gear but like any other soldier you both still had firearms on your person.

You were sitting right next to Graves when you heard a familiar voice coming into the bar.

“’Mericans found it before we did,” Price’s voice almost made you choke on the drink you’d been nursing.

And you did choke, which made it harder to put some distance between you and Graves.

And at that point you discovered that Graves had wrapped an arm around your waist, making it even harder to scoot away from him along the booth seat. You didn’t plan to scoot too far. Just enough to dispel any rumors you two were thinking about hooking up.

“Captain,” you gasped out after finally catching your breath. Ghost, Gaz, and Soap joined him. And Soap being behind Price threw you a knowing smirk.

“Discussing business?” Price eyed Graves.

“Sir, yessir, business,” you said rapidly.

“Make sure she gets back safe, eh?” Price placed a hand on Graves's shoulder before he and the rest of the team followed their captain, leaving you to scoot right back over towards Graves who didn’t need to be told twice to put his arm around your waist again.

“Will do,” Graves confirmed.

You stayed at that dark bar with Graves even after Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap had left. You weren’t drunk, just wonderfully tipsy and happy and giggly.

Graves helped you into the passenger seat of his Jeep and when he leaned over to fasten your seatbelt, you caught him with a quick kiss on the lips. He didn’t react outwardly but when he closed the door you saw he smirked to himself.

“What’re you doing?” you asked when he pulled into the parking lot of his own living quarters. Your quarters were a few more miles down the road. He wasn’t going to make you want home was he?!

“I don’t feel comfortable driving much farther,” Graves replied.

“Bullshit,” and just like that you had cursed at your new commander. Thanks to the alcohol you’d drank making you loose lipped. You weren’t drunk, bot by any means, but even one drink always made you braver, more open to speaking your mind.

“You can’t talk to me like that, soldier,” Graves’s voice took a stern tone.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “Alcohol always makes me a little braver than I usually am.”

“Apologize to me some more inside,”

“You’re gonna run hot with all these clothes on, ya’ know,” Graves said hoarsely as he easily peeled your jacket off you. You had lied down on his couch and dozed off for what must’ve been a few minutes and woke up in his bed.

“If you’re gonna fuck me, fuck me,” you sneered at him through tipsy eyes.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,”

In the span of less than two minutes you were on your fucking knees in front of Shadow Company CEO Phillip Graves. He had both his strong hands fisted in your hair and was moaning your name as you drooled over and licked his cock. Even in your silly, tipsy state you knew how to please a man. You hummed around his length, the vibrations making him moan and lean his head back, his hair falling off his forehead. You ran your tongue along the underside of his dick, using the tip of your tongue to flick the head.

Graves hissed above you and said, “Ah, fu—fuck,” all the while tightening his grip on your hair.

You sucked the precum right out of him, drawing another moan from him.

He glanced down at you, his golden brown/blonde hair falling onto his forehead again.

“Look at me, Val,” he commanded. “That’s an order,”

So you opened your long, dewy eyelashes and looked up at him. And what a sight you must’ve been. Your eyelashes were carrying some semblance of tears from when he triggered your gag reflex and your checks were flushed thanks to the alcohol and your…current activities. Your breasts still had the hickies he had sucked onto them earlier and you were on your knees, legs spread wide, with one hand on what was left of his length and the other between your legs, touching yourself as you blew him.

“I give you permission to touch yourself?”

He pulled his dick out of your mouth and you whined at the loss. You yanked your free hand away from between your legs. And your face was hot in shame. Here was one of your commanding officers with his hard cock right in front of your face while your were blowing him and you were touching yourself.

“Sorry,”

“You’ve been saying that an awful lot tonight, haven’t cha?” Graves stopped stroking himself and grabbed your hair before tossing you onto the bed.

“Go on, then,” he demanded. “Do it. Show me what a piddly little orgasm you can give yourself before I take over and get the job done,”

“Graves—”

“Say my name, baby, fuck yeah,” Graves moaned.

And despite the fact that you felt your face burn hot with some semblance of embarrassment, you also found this incredibly, unbelievably hot.

And you were a soldier so you started following orders. Your fingers made obscene noises as your sunk them deeper into you. You were fucking yourself on your hand and whatever shame you felt before was quickly being replaced by carnal need.

Graves watched intently, running his fingers over his length and sighing at the contact.

Your fingers curled inside you and you found that soft, cushiony spot inside you that made you gasp and see stars. You’d always been a little rough with yourself and so all it took to push yourself over the edge was pressure on your clit from one hand and a hint of fingernails on that spot deep inside you for you to cum on your fingers.

You mewled your release, again saying his name, “Graves, fuck,” or rather moaning his name.

You thought you were going to be given a break.

But it wasn’t even a minute before Graves had his face between your legs, tasting you, drinking you.

“Graves, I need a break—”

“You don’t get one,” he smirked. “Since you like to cum so much you couldn’t keep your fingers outta yourself,”

So despite the fact that your legs were shaking and jelly, your wrapped your fingers around his hair and arched into his mouth. Graves had you coming undone in the span of 30 seconds. You saw spots in your vision and your vision also went black and white for a few seconds.

Okay, now you needed a breather.

“Don’t be selfish,” Graves snapped as he pressed his hot (probably painfully hard dick) against your entrance. “You on birth control?”

“Yes,” you whispered hastily.

Graves didn’t need to be told twice to slam into you so he did. And thank God you were the only two in that tiny shack and that the rest of both of your groups were some distance away because you screamed his name.

Graves put his hand, which smelled of you and him combined, over your mouth. Graves set a brutal pace. But could you blame him? He had probably edged himself repeatedly while you’d sucked him off, while you’d essentially fucked yourself, and then again as he tasted you.

So you whined underneath his thrusts and when he took his hand off your mouth he replaced it with his own mouth. He swallowed your moans and mentions of his name. Then his dick started hitting that spot deep inside of you repeatedly and roughly all while he also ground against your clit. It took a few rounds of that, maybe three or four, before you came undone around him. Your jaw dropped but now sound came out as you reveled and lost yourself in your orgasm.

Graves rode his own orgasm out as he held himself inside of you, groaning his own release before he gasped heavily. He didn’t collapse on top of you completely but he laid his head on your chest. And you ran your slightly trembling fingers through his hair.

What a surprisingly intimate act for two people who had just met a quick fuck, yeah?

#phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #graves x reader #john soap mactavish #ghost cod #cod mw3 #longwayfromhome #price call of duty #gaz mw2 #somewhere only we know #call of duty phillip graves

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atvace · 8 months

Text

Lady Dior and the Seven Dilfs

Chapter 9: Arrive and Ride

Masterlist

Warning: sex

The sound of the plane landing finally becomes music to everyone's ear. the ass of the plane opens up revealing a few cars and new people you're not familiar with. Let's talk about you, who wouldn't be in shock after getting edged by your lieutenant's knee? yes, that's it. that is the reason why you've been SLIGHTLY quiet for the rest of the ride. But a girl had to be honest, you want more than that.

Soap and Ghost walked towards an athletic man and greeted each other, "Alejandro!" He smiled, "Sergeant Mactavish." The guy looked like in his mid-30s, had a Mexican accent. from afar, You could see he has a wide forehead, a perfectly balanced sharp nose, keen sharp eyes with perfect jawline. his shoulders are broad. he had those compression shirts beneath his vest which made you melt staring at his bicep is well seen. his haircut, God his haircut is perfectly aligned with the shape of his head. you wanna ride-

"Dior!" Soap's calling dragged your senses out of the daydream. You shyly reveal yourself to the sun and walk towards the others. Alejandro has his eyes locked on your figure as you walk by. "This is Dior, a new re-" "Assigned FBI." You smiled at Alejandro and lent out your hand. "Ay, ¹Dios Mio. Nice to meet you, ²cielita." He locks eye contact with you, softly accepting your hand kissing your knuckle like a gentleman. "I am pleasured too, ³señor." You smiled at him.

You deducted him deeper in up close. you could smell his bergamot musky scent, his eyes is brown but turns amber when hit by sunlight. His hair is neatly combed and his hands are veiny. you wonder how they feel when it's playing your cli-

Alejandro chuckles and lets go of your hand slowly before looking over to Ghost. "Lieutenant! Laswell says they call you Ghost."

Soap pointed his thumb to Ghost and laughed, "Actually, I think he prefers to be called-" "That'll do." Ghost cuts Soap off. which made you raised your eyebrow. Huh, you do in fact had any no idea about Ghost's whereabouts except him being british, tea person, ginger biscuit and all.

He gestured the three of you to follow him. "Welcome to City of Souls." He exposes his cheeky smile while walking towards his truck. Soap looked around at the military activity thats going on around them, "I've never been to Mexico." Alejandro raises his eyebrow at his remarks.

"This isn't Mexico, this is Las Almas." He raises his hand showing a few green hills from the distance. "Shepherd's contractors are inbound to reinforce. They're bringing hardware. It'll need a room." Ghost looked over Alejandro. "Relajar Hermano, my base is your base." The Mexican man stops in front of his car.

"Good, now Where can we know anything about the missile?" Ghost asked again. "Cartel safe house. We'll talk about that in my base, hermano." He opened the door and lent his hand to you. "Ladies first, please." He smiles at you softly. "⁴Gracias, el señor." You blow a kiss to him as you enter the car.

Soap got around the car and entered by your left side as Ghost on your right side. there was a driver already inside whilst Alejandro giving orders before entering the shotgun of the car. The air in Las Almas was a little less polluted than in Los Angeles back in your FBI days. you had no trouble settling in the environment hence you're quite used to it.

"This is my second in command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra," He looks at the three of you from the rear mirror. "Ola, señor." You cooed and Rodolfo smiled at you. "⁵tengo miedo de los fantasmas" Rodolfo said quickly shifting his gaze to Ale.

You snorted to yourself and felt Soap and Ghost's eyes on you, "Ah, 'm sorry." you rubbed your eye. Alejandro pursed his lips and looked back at Soap, "You know Spanish?"

"Uhh, no." "No." Soap and Ghost answered. "Well, a green bird taught me how to form a word or two." You shrugged. He laughs softly and puts on his seatbelt, "You'll manage." And by that, Rodolfo pulls up to the destination.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You were enjoying watching the scenery that extends in the mirror of the car watching small shops, flower shops, little cafes, and restaurants that you passed by. but eventually, you got a little tired of keeping your head to yourself trying not to lean to either of the men by your side.

Soap notices your little gesture of uncomfiness and slides his rifle to the other side of his legs so it won't bug you, "You can lay your head on my shoulder if your neck is sore, Dior." He softly said to you. Ghost bit the inside of his cheek while side-eyeing the two of you.

"Oh, no no no. the cielita can use this." Alejandro opens and rummages the inside of his car dashboard quickly. You tilt your head in curiosity and perk up when he reveals a pink Hello Kitty neck pillow. Your heart instantly melts and you reach it from his hand.

"Alejandro, this is so cute," you wore it around your neck and closed your eyes. "Fluffy too.. Thank you so much." You squeezed the pillow as Alejandro chuckled. "I got that from gift exchanging. Los Vaqueros does that every time we celebrate an achievement." He leaned back to his seat.

Soap patted your head before looking back at the window. His pupils constricted at the sight of a white carry truck with 4 men holding guns. His palm grasped at his own rifle and looked straight at the 'target'.

"White truck, four armed in the back-" Alejandro quickly tilt to Soap, "Ay, hey- ⁶tranquilo." He held his palm as Soap let go of his rifle again. "Easy... that's normal here." He said leaning back to his seat.

You were looking at Soap's sudden tension and then back to Alejandro. "Guns on the streets are jurisdiction of the police. " He marked, "Where are the police?" Ghost asked.

Alejandro clears his throat, "Well, Las Almas has a very serious problem. There are few here to uphold the law and many of those who resist corruption..." Ghost looks at Alejandro, "... disappear." He ends.

You look at Soap, "What about the military?" He asked. "Well, because we are well-trained, soldiers are recruited by the narcos." Alejandro rested his head watching the streets. "Why not you?"

Ghost's question made you and Soap glared at him. Even Rodolfo sighed in defeat whilst Alejandro tried not to smile, "We grew up here. They call us Los Vaqueros...cowboys." You raised your eyebrow at his answer.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy." You said in a relaxed tone. now they're glaring at you but Alejandro nervously rubbed his forehead, "I like you, cielita."

A few minutes went by, your group found themselves waiting for a red light. On the other side of the road, there was a mother and a kid buying balloons with someone holding a gun beside them. Ghost and Soap exchanged looks, "Kids, guns, and balloons.."

"That's a new one," You replied at Soap's remark. "⁷Narcos use generosity to win over the people," Alejandro cooed in. "Even the children?" Soap raised one of his eyebrows. "Especially the children." Rodolfo continued.

Another red light made Rodolfo stop the car. You peered over to Ghost's side of the window and gagged after seeing a dead body being covered with written white cloth, smeared red with blood. "Jesus, what the fuck is that." Ghost looks down on you, 'She tortures people with her heels but gags at a covered dead body...' he thought.

"Narcomantas." Alejandro shortly replied, "Cartel Cloths." Rodolfo translates. "Messages from El Sim Nombre, warnings, marking territory." You saw another narcomantas as they passed by, "Our streets are laced with death." Alejandro narrates.

"Whose El Sin Nombre?" Ghost looks at Alejandro from the rear mirror. "El Sin Nombre, The Nameless. leader of Las Almas Cartel." He replied while biting his lips, looking at the huge beautiful graffiti saying 'EL SIN NOMBRE'

"Where can we find him?" Soap tilts his head. "...or her?" You pursed your lips, poking the neck pillow. "You can't. No one knows who they are but they are everywhere." Alejandro said whilst Rodolfo nodded in agreement. "Is this person an individual?" You raised your eyebrow. "Perhaps, we still never know because they're everywhere." He shrugged.

"And that is a challenge. Los Vaqueros loves challenges!" Alejandro snickered and gazed at Ghost from the rear mirror. "With your mask, you'll fit in well here, Ghost." He finishes. but as he said that, you saw Soap doing the 'cut it out' hand gesture. which made you knit your eyebrow at the sudden awkward pause. you tilt your head to Ghost who now has his eyes down to his knee.

'Ghost's mask is a sensitive topic, no good.' you thought to yourself.

Rodolfo slowed the car down watching a road blockage just a few ahead of them. Alejandro seemed frowned at the sight but he gestured to take a turn, "Military checkpoint. Turn right, don't engage them." He ordered. "Yes sir." You watched a few civilians being stopped by the military.

"Why?" Soap looked out of his window, "Some troops are in the pocket of El Sin Nombre. Like I told you, they're everywhere." Alejandro explains again. "My resources is still finding clues and intels regarding of El Sin Nombre. let's hope they found something important."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Settling into Alejandro's base, he said it was sectioned into multiple buildings to make it slightly more private. You walked towards the light spacious hallway that connects the kitchen and the meeting room. You saw your duffle bag already gently placed on top of your bed. "Finally, inner peace..." You mumbled before falling into the soft mattress. "Dior? This is Rodolfo. Colonel Alejandro wants us to regroup in the meeting room." He knocked on your door softly which made you irritatedly punch the bed. "Ay, coño." You mumbled while getting up again, "Coming!"

You got out of your room with an unpleasant mood, as Soap walked towards you with a small metal box in his hand. You were a bit puzzled about his gesture, "Could you brew this for Ghost? I think he had a car sick." He said in a concerned tone. You held back your laugh, "the lieutenant? Car sick? What is he, five?" You took the metal box and made your way to the kitchen with him.

"Aye, I used to get car sick too in my early 20s." Soap filled the kettle pot with tap water and placed it into the stove, "He's in his early 30s? I thought he joined the military earlier than all of us combined." You furiously tapped your foot to the floor. "Let's not be mean to him, poor guy went through a lot." He turned the stove in.

You scoffed and cackled at his statement because hell if he knew what Ghost did to you whilst he was deep asleep, he would had a stroke on the floor. "Soap, what do you think about him." You watched him lean to the counter next to you. "Ghost? well, he's serious all the time. You know it." He shrugged and playfully tapped his finger to the counter.

"I mean, I've been here for less than a week. people be 'Ghost is scary, Ghost is this, Ghost is that' and I wouldn't find him scary at all" You rub the back of your head. "He's goofy, trust me. Whenever we went to a bar, He would be there just to eat the peanuts." You tilt your head slowly to Soap and scoff in laughter. "What?" "You heard me right. I bought a bag of peanuts as a joke once and he ate them all in the base." He smiled at your reaction.

"You hate Graves, why" Soap looks down on you with a cheeky smile. "Thought I told you already." You fiddled your finger to Ghost's metal box of tea. "That was Shepherd," You parted your mouth into an 'Ooh'.

"He's American." You stated coldly.

"Dior, you're from Los Angeles."

the two of you paused for a few moments before letting out a muffled laughter. "Could you tell me a little about LA?" He leaned closer to you, "Well, It's twice more chaotic than New York. gamblers everywhere, drugs are illegally normalized, and so many kidnapping cases. It's wild crazy but I managed." You shrugged yourself, "I had a...colleague, once." Your voice faded a little lower. "She was detecting...some kind of illegal explosives transaction. It's in Chicago but one of the parties was in LA." Your gaze falls to the floor.

"...She was ambushed." You muttered but still loud enough for Soap to hear. "Could've saved her if only I was tall enough to climb a certain window. I was wearing flat combat boots that time, I haven't worn any heels to work." You weakly looked up at Soap who softened at your story.

"And since then I learned how to run, jump, and even kill people with my heels." Your eyes sharpen. "Was underestimated, but those people are six feet under now." You bit your lip and looked up at Soap, "Am I talking too much? I'm so sorry-" "Dior, it's okay." Soap rested his hand on your head, giving you a gentle pat.

"I'm sorry for your loss, must be...hard for you." He smiled at you softly. "I think doing those.. stuff in heels must be hurt. and you defeating me and the others back in that field showed enough that you are capable of being who you are right now. I think your...colleague would be proud of you, right now." Your eyes moisten a little at his comforting remark. you laughed it off softly at the comfortable moment he built for you.

He's right, no matter how the demotion has taken a chunk of your mental, you're still as perfect as you were back then. you should be proud of how far you've become. Losing or missing a piece along the way might hurt you, but one day you'll find a bigger brick to build yourself even better.

As you two were locking eye contact, out of a sudden you both screamed in terror when the bakelite top bead flung into the air from the overheated kettle pot, hitting the hanging lamp and dropping right in front of your foot. You jumped to the counter as Soap quickly turned the stove off preventing boiling water from splashing all over the stove.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"And with that being said, does anybody have any question?" Alejandro turned his tablet off as Rodolfo turned the projector off and stood behind Alejandro. Soap shrugged whilst Ghost was just sitting in the corner and you were doodling random drawings in your notebook. "I think that's enough. All we had to do was wait for your intel, no?" You raised your eyebrow. "Correct, I think they should be back by tomorrow before sunrise." He sat on his seat, sipping coffee. There was a slight silence before you realized something.

"Soap do you remember when we tried to eavesdrop Price-" "Captain..." Soap sipped on his Gatorade. "...I mean, Captain Price." You bit your lip in regret, "I overheard missiles were from Russians." Alejandro raised his gaze at you. "Your point is?" Soap smiles at you, he likes it when you get into critical thinking. "...Ghobrani was talking with Russians when Ghost marked him off with the missile that Graves drove..?"

You created a staring contest between Rodolfo, Alejandro, Soap, and you. Alejandro re-opened his note and cleared his throat, "Ghost what do you know?" Everyone gazes at him wearing sunglasses and a cup of tea in his hand that you brewed for him earlier. "Is he...asleep?" You held your chest in concerned. "Nah... I'm pretty sure he's dead."

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

The night washes over the sky, your laptop clock shows '22:13'. you rolled over your bed with a slik light green robe to find a working comfort food. the good 'ol American mac n cheese. your mini mission is simple; sneak to the kitchen, use the microwave, leave. then you can continue to watch Scream Queens in your tab. And that's when it hit you. "This is the best idea I've ever had in my entire life!"

That's the worst idea you ever had in your entire life. You spat out the warm mac n cheese out of your mouth to the trash bin, wiping your lips with a tissue. it tastes unpleasantly weird. you figured that it tastes like that because it's been in your bag for nearly 3 days, it probably got soaked or expired. You washed your dishes after throwing away all the remaining mac n cheese.

"Cielita, why are you awake?" Alejandro walked passed you and rested his palms to the top of your head. "I uh, I'm sorry for using your kitchen without your permission. I craved something out of the sudden..." You looked up at him while turning off the sink. "Instead of asking for my permission for the cocina, could've ask me for food instead," He ripped out a napkin and took your hand. gently drying it from the water.

you watched his hand brushing against yours with the dry napkin as a barrier, he then toss it to the trash. "Let me show you a comfort food my mama used to cook." He smiled at you.

God, you're melting to his words. Hes the finest act-of-service man you could ever imagine God has created. You watched him going through his kitchen cupboard taking out a few ingredients.

olive oil, conchas, tomato sauce, parmesran and 2 jars that you're unsure of the content inside. "What's in this?" you pointed at it whilst he was heating up the pan. "The green one is jalapeño, exotic spices and his friends," He tapped the other jar with yellowish liquid inside. "This one is chicken broth with blackpepper, red pepper flakes, and dried oregano." he explains.

"I have my sopita salsas half-ready in the fridge for moments like this." He gave you a cheeky smile. You watched him closely. heating the oil into the pan, adding the shell pasta in, pouring a cup of water and waiting for the pasta to soften. "You wanna watch closer here, cielita?" He patted the empty kitchen counter. You pursed your lips into a thin smile and walked towards him.

You did what he said, sitting in the kitchen counter watching him cook. you could smell the jalapeño doing God's work into the pasta. you felt guilty that he heard your stomach growling.

After a few minutes in, he poured in the chicken broth and let your stir it. "Smells good doesn't it cariño?" He rested his hand to your thigh watching you taking a good sniff of the soup with the wooden spoon. "Yeah, it does." You put down the spoon and stir it gently.

"I think it's ready for the tomato sauce." He effortlessly opened the canned red sauce and began pouring it gently before continuing stir. When the soup formed, You took a smaller spoon and took a small amount of the soup, blowing it gently to cool off before tasting it. "...I think it needs garlic?" He raises his eyebrow before taking your spoon and licking it himself. Your face blushed fifty shades of red as he hummed to himself, "Must agree, I'll get the cloves."

After a few minutes of brewing, he decided to turn off the stove and let you taste it first. "Have a bite." He took smile pieces from the pan with a spoon, aiming it at you. Smiling in excitement, you leaned and blew the hot pasta from the spoon he held for you.

After chewing and shifting the pasta around your mouth for a good moment, you raised your eyebrow in surprise, "It's flavorful but in a good way, wow you're a good cook." He laughs at your compliment, "And a good cowboy." He quickly turned the stove off and shifted away to get the bowls.

You'd be lying if you say you're not flustered. He knew how to scoop your heart once in a while. "Come, have a seat." He dragged the chair for you.

He lit up a scented candle and lit it, "Is this some kind of a candle-lit dinner?" You smiled at him settling down to his seat across from you. "Now that you find it that way, then consider it as a yes." His sharp eyes soften every time he sees you.

You both ate the warm sopita in silence. It was a comfortable atmosphere, you two enjoyed each other's company. A few times whenever you took a bite, he could've sworn he saw a star being born in your orbs. the way you hummed and glinted a smile at his food, softened his heart.

"You like it, cielita?" He looked down at his bowl, "If I don't, I wouldn't be here. Honestly, I never expected someone like you to...cook. I thought you were the take-out kind of guy despite all the military stuff" You scooped up the pasta to your spoon again. "Well, no offense. I went through military too." He raised one eyebrow and chuckled.

"I aspire to be a good son for my mama. That is why I started to learn how to cook for her every time she's too sick to cook." God, something about this man is drawing you in. You should ask him what kind of hex he's using on you because it's damn well working. "Your mom must be proud of herself to have someone like you as her son," You smiled softly and picked up a spoonful of the food you both made.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance before realizing he hadn't prepared a drink. "Is there any preferred drink you'd like to have? Forgive me, I got carried away." He finished his food and got up. "Honestly, I don't mind anything." You ate the last few remains of the sopita in your bowl. "Wine?" He opened a fridge with multiple bottles that worth hundreds. "Red, would probably do..." You took your bowl and stood from the chair.

"Ay, no no no. You don't do this." He stops you while taking your bowl out of your hand. "Sit, princessa. let me serve you."

You are MELTING like an iced slushie under a hot summer in Florida. Watching his athletic figure swaying in the kitchen back and forth, his back muscles and bicep are wrapped nicely in a black collared shirt he is wearing with the sleeve rolled to his elbow. If he's giving you these gentleman treatments again, you're definitely folding.

Popping the bottle and pouring it to the glass, he places it down for you and one for him. You both clink the wine glass. After spinning it slowly and smelling the scent, you look at him with a glinting smile. "Chåteau Camou?" He raised his glass to you and sipped, "You know your drink."

"Well, I must." You laughed and shrugged it. He examined you for a few moments, giving a pause for a few minutes. You looked up at his eyes gazing deeply to you. his eyebrow is intimidating. at this point, it seemed like a staring contest, but you don't really mind. You like the way he looks, he's deadass a hot Mexican.

"Stop looking at me like that," You chuckled and leaned to the seat. "Like what?" He smirked and took another sip of his wine. "Like you want to have sex with me." You hid your smile by biting the tip of your thumb.

His smirk slowly turned into a cheeky smile, flashing you with his teeth. He laughed and rubbed his forehead, "Ride a cowboy to save a horse? how about you come sit here and we'll see where we going." He shifted his knee and tapped his thighs. You're fearless, You've got nothing to worry. It's not like he means his word anyway.

You got up from your seat and walked slowly towards him, watching his veiny hands slithering his knee up to his thigh. You bit your bottom lip and lend out your hand, he held it softly and pull you gently towards him. You sat in his lap as he places your hand to his chest.

"Eager, are we." He whispered as you leaned closer. You brushed your nose close to his cheek, breathing softly to his touch. you rammed your fingertips from his chest up to his neck, he tilts his head to you and stare. He has a brown dimming eye, the way his warm breath surfaced to your chest and neck sent electric down your spine. He grinned and placed his thumb on your chin.

There was a heavy tension between the concerning amount of space you two had. He wanted to lean closer but you kept on teasing him by dodging his lips away from you. He grunted before getting a hold of your jaw, "Stop moving, ⁸niñita."

"Make me, papi." That snapped something inside of him.

He gripped your ass, getting off the chair and carried you whilst you wrapped your legs around his waist. with no waiting, he bit your neck devouring every spot exposed. You whimpered at the pleasure hes giving whilst he still carried you with his other hand in the back of your head, stilling it so he could get a taste of you.

walking towards his presumably his room, he pushed open the door with one leg and locked it. He shifts his mouth and bites to your chest making you whine, gripping his broad shoulder like there's no tomorrow.

"You asked for it, cielita." He whispered to your ear, dropping you to his bed before kissing you passionately. you slithered your hand around his chest, up to his shoulder and bicep, feeling every single one of his body heat against yours.

nibbling your bottom lip furiously, he unbuttoned his shirt and left his chest exposed. Your abdomen and his brushing against one and another, stroking you dry but enough to make your panties damp. "Holy shit-" you pulled away from his kiss. "May I?" He tugged the ribbon that ties your body to the robe. "Only if you can make me cum." You pinched his cheek and he gave you a smug laugh.

"Bet." He pulled it off and witnessed a goddess in her lingerie, "Like what you're seeing?" You smirked at his parted lips. "The 141 has been keeping this treasure all to themself, ⁹no lo hacen?" He chuckled while tugging the vibrant color of your panties.

taking his time, Alejandro snucked his nose to your briefs, taking a deep breath to get ahold of your scent. you yelped when he slid his index into the entrance of your folds. "¹⁰huele tan bien, cielito." You raised your eyebrow and chuckled, "Nah, they don't...touch me. I mean Ghost did but not this far." you admitted. You saw his eyes rising from your thighs in surprise. "Then let me give you what Ghost didn't, no?"

He finally lifted the lace before devouring you down to his bed, flicking your clit and gripping your inner thighs defensively. You gasped softly at his moves and muffled groan. "Dios, ¹¹sabes tan dulce." He muttered beneath you.

Impatiently, he yanked your panties away and gruesomely polished your entrance. he stretched your folds with his finger, sucking you inside out while you tugged his hair holding back your moans.

His hitched breath brushed against your sensitive clit which made you feel a knot building up in your stomach. he pushed himself deeper as your release melted against his face.

"¹²Chica come so easily, hm?" He got up licking your remaining sweet sextillion-dollar fluid. "I bet you come easily too, papi." You smirked under him. His lips slowly pursed into a smug smirk, "¹³Ay coño, you don't know what you signed up for." He quickly unbuckled his belt, pulling it away from his pants before pushing both of your wrists down the mattress.

"What are you-" Your words were cut off when he flipped you over and tied your wrist down with his belt. "Let's see how far ¹⁴puedes ir." He slids his thumb to your entrance as you whined into the mattress. You could feel him taking off his pants but every time you tried to peek, he would grab you by the jaw and make you look front.

"No peeking, princesa. Let me.." 'SLAP' He spanked your entrance followed by your loud moan. arching your back enough, you could feel his tip trying to fit into your trench. "¹⁵Preparar, cielita." He pushed it in which made your ass slightly vibrated. "Fucking hell- It won't fit." you whimpered trying your best to keep your knees up.

"Really?" He smirked and pushed more of his length in, "Jesus- Please tell me tha' all- Oh Lord." You whimpered between your moan, feeling so stretched from the inside. "That was just half, ¹⁶hermosa." He pushed his length in again. "This is full."

You let out the loudest, softest moan you could ever let out. Alejandro was triumphant witnessing that. He kissed your shoulder and placed his hand on your lower stomach, circling it between. "You feel this bulge, ¹⁷cariño? you're tightening around me..." He pulled out half of his length and pushed it back slowly, grunting every few moments.

You rolled your eyes to the back of your head feeling high up in the sky, whilst he filled the void of your insides so slowly and rhythmic. "Faster, papi." His eyes widened. "Say again, ¹⁸belleza?" He stops with his whole length inside. "I said, Fas-"

He pulls out and slams himself into your cervix mercilessly. You had to gawk out a messy moan while feeling him holding back your tied wrist, bullying your insides wildly. The sound of wet skin slapping at each other filled the room, the way you felt ecstasy and a knot building inside you had gone dumbfoundedly filthy.

As he thrusts into you like a little fuck toy, you couldn't see shit. you were buried into the mattress deeply, feeling yourself overstimulated to the point where you couldn't tell if you had came or not. He fucks you so good you turned dumb at this point.

"¹⁹ven aqui, guapa." He flipped you over and pinned your wrist above your head. Now you're seeing the beautiful man above you, fucking you with your legs above his shoulders. His sweat forming around his forehead, the way he grunted and his ears turning red. you loved the way his abs and abdomen moved and smashed against you.

"This is what you longed for, cariño? this is what the ²⁰maravillo Ghost can't give you? let me show que hombres de verdad looked like."

He kissed your mouth while fucking you like a whore, squeezing your blowsy breast that peeked out of your bra. You let go of the sloppy kiss and moaned uncontrollably. "Ah, 'm gonna come."

"Then fucking come for me, mami." He whispered and bit your earlobe which made you feel tingles. He thrusted in you, slamming your insides a few times before you let out another loud lament as your juices came out. He pulled out and dunked his 7-inches to your stomach being proud his sword had weakened you, letting his thick vanilla ooze around your stomach and hips.

You breathed out heavily, feeling so much emotions penting up in your head and sex. He chuckled before leaning down on you to take his belt off your wrist. feeling freed, you closed your eyes and bit your lip. "Wow.", He places his forehead to your knee, planting soft little kisses around you before looking up at your gaze. "Wow?" He smiled.

You tilt your head to his bedside, looking at the digital clock that drew at 2.30 am. he noticed this and layed beside you, not forgetting to give you a peck on the lips and forehead. "Rest?" He spooned you from behind. "Rest." You smiled weakly.

"I'll wake you up in an hour and half so we have enough time to clean up, como suena eso, chica?" He presses his nose to the back of your hair and wraps his hands along your waist. "²¹si si..." Your head was too high in the clouds to translate any words outside English.

As the moonlight shines through his dark curtains, you and Alejandro were sound asleep. enjoying each other's company, one and another. Clearly unaware of someone hearing you moaning a little too loud.

some spanish translation 101໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

(forgive if I got some wrong)

~ Relax - Relajar

~ How does that sound - como suena eso

~ What real men - Que hombres de verdad

1. Oh God - Dios mio

2. Sweetie - Cielita

3. Sir - Señor

4. Thank You - Gracias

5. I'm scared of (him) Ghost - Tengo miedo de los fantasmas

6. Easy (calm down) - tranquilo

7. drug trafficker - Narcos

8. little girl - Niñita

9. dont they - no lo hacen

10. smells so good - huele tan bien

11. taste so sweet - sabes tan dulce

12. (beautiful) girl - chica

13. oh fuck - ay coño

14. (this) can go - puedes ir

15. prepare - preparan

16. beautiful - hermosa

17. dear - cariño

18. beauty - belleza

19. come here beautiful - ven aqui guapa

20. marvelous (masculine) - maravillo

21. yes yes - si si

#mw2 #task force 141 #modern warfare 2 #captain price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #cod mw2 #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas

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jonathan-samuel-smith · 7 months

Note

In one of your posts you ask for a prompt then I hope you don't mind mine: knight and magic where there are rumours about a feral and bloodthirsty dragon into the mountains and his bard who keeps him sleep

Meanwhile Jon is the dragon who likes to play and Damian just wants peace and knows art and music very well

YOU ARE A FUCKING GENIUS!!!!!! I am always taking requests :)

fic under the cut.

Relationships: Jonathan Samuel Kent/Damian Wayne

Characters: Maya Ducard, Kathy Branden, Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent

Tags: Fantasy, Dragons, Fluff, Dialogue-Heavy

Being a mage wasn’t strictly illegal, but it was highly regulated, and if you had the power your freedom would be curtailed and people would fear you. So Maya and Kathy told not a soul once they discovered what she could do.

Kathy Branden and Maya Ducard are some of the best knights of the realm. Kathy is known as a shining beacon of chivalry and Maya is known as easily mingling with the commoners as if she were a nobody. They’ve been working together since they were squires, so they’ve had their petty squabbles and become all the more stronger for it. They’re both very smart, but Maya is the tactician, and Kathy is only a little better at de-escalation. Kathy’s noble parents were killed when she was young so her grandfather gave her over to become a squire so he could bring all his remaining focus on their estate in his child’s absence. Maya’s family had a proud tradition of being knights but Maya had to prove herself before she was allowed to become a squire; she caught a thief stealing from her family’s serfs and returned all the stolen goods he had stashed away.

One day, the king of the land sent the two to investigate the rumors of a bloodthirsty dragon in the mountains and the bard who keeps him asleep, to learn how to use his skills for other dragons or to kill the dragon once and for all. They wore thick fur armor to combat the cold of the mountains, Kathy’s golden hair braided and bundled near her cheeks like earmuffs, Maya’s short haircut hidden behind a fur hood. Their cheeks and noses were red from the cold but they took breaks to make fire. Kathy was secretly a mage, and could create magical flame when the firewood was unsuitable. The only souls who knew about her powers were Maya and the dead who tell no tales.

They were getting closer to the rumored spot, when they heard a mild voice singing out dulcet tones.

“La la la la, hmm-hmm~ Da da dee dum…”

“You know Damian, you could write actual lyrics?”

“That would be a feat for me~” Damian sung as he played his pipa.

Kathy and Maya slowed and tried to quiet themselves to listen.

Jon laughed, mirthful. “Maybe I can help! What would you want to sing about? A wish? A fish? A delicious vegetarian dish? A star, a marr, a land way afar? A boat, a goat, a gloating goat’s boat?”

“Hmm. Would you like to swing on a star, or carry moonbeams home in a jar? If you could do whatever you wish? Or would you rather be a fish?” Damian sung, adjusting his chords to match the whimsical tone.

“These two are weird.” Kathy whispered to Maya. Maya nodded, and they moved in closer to view them. The bard was a small arab-chinese man with cropped black hair, brown skin, a handsome face, and green eyes. The Dragon looked around as young as the bard, with blue slit-pupil eyes and red scales, pink on his underside, with stripes of yellow on his cheeks and around his wrists and ankles. Right now he was in his more human form, with horns and wings, clawed tip fingers and a big tail and hair on his head. But really, He couldn’t look more harmless if he tried. He was wearing just some scuffed linen pants and a cloak, green, presumably borrowed from the bard as he was dressed in a white flannel shirt with a green vest which had brown leather fastenings, and thick soft leather pants and fur boots.

Jon laughed again. “I love this game! Would I wish to be a fish or a caster? Who moves oceans with a pace much faster? Than the beat of my dragon wings? … Say, what rhymes with Wings?”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s many things. As many as the echoes when a bell rings.”

Jon clapped. “Do you know any new stories?”

“So many of the stories i’ve learned to tell are about bad dragons, Jon.” Damian looked sullen.

Jon pouted. “I don’t like you hiding things from me, Damian.”

“Oh. Well that’s okay! Tell them to me anyway. I want to know what the humans think of us.”

Damian took Jon’s hand. “I don’t think you want to know. It’s best you forgive their ignorance for the sake of peace and move on.”

“I will tell you if you really wish. However, I could tell you a new story?”

“That sounds really cool!”

“A new story?”

“One nobody has ever heard before.”

Maya stepped into their clearing. “I’d like to hear it.”

Jon let out a surprised cry, and Damian jumped on top of the log he’d been sitting on, holding his flute like he was ready to bash the poor thing onto her head. “Who are you? What do you want? Can’t you see we’re just trying to have our peace?” Damian demanded. Kathy stepped out too. “There’s two of you?!”

“We can see you two just want to have fun. How old are you?”

“I’m 17, he’s 20.” Jon answered. Damian glanced at Jon disapprovingly.

“Hey, that’s the same age as us!” Kathy said cheerfully.

Maya put her hand on her hip. “Do you see us drawing our swords?”

“...No.”

“Then put the lute down.”

“It’s a pipa. But fine.” Damian said, hopping off the log and securing the lute to his back. “What do you want?”

“We heard that you have ways to put dragons to sleep, but it looks like you’ve learned how to tame them!”

Jon puffed out his cheeks, offended. “I’m not a wild beast to be tamed! I’m his best friend!”

Damian nodded. “Dragons are really just misunderstood. We’re lucky they haven’t actually started a war against us for always hunting them and attacking them.”

“We just want to be left to our hoardes in peace! Except me, I guess.”

Maya eyed him suspiciously. “You’re the bloodthirsty dragon?”

“Bloodthirsty? No! I’m just curious and love to play! Humans have such fun games. And this one is really cute.” He says, jostling Damian’s shoulder. Damian rolls his eyes. “I think we can all get along! Right Damian?”

“That would be ideal.” Damian sighed. “But people don’t see it that way.”

Jon pouted. “It’s not fair! I’m nice, i’m not scary at all! I hate when the humans run away from me.” Jon was almost crying. Damian sighed.

“Come here, I’ll give you a hug.”

Jon’s tail wagged and his wings flapped. “Really? Yay!” He pulled Damian into a hug, who returned it.

“You’re such a crybaby.”

“Wow, you two are really good friends!” Kathy observed.

“My mom says that all dragons have a human they’re supposed to protect. This one’s mine. Say, do you think that’s why humans hate dragons? Cause we add them to our hordes?”

Damian nodded. “That is probably where tensions first began. Humans miss their family members and friends.”

Jon nods. “That’s why I don’t make you live with me in my cave!”

“Is it a nice cave?” Kathy asked.

“Yes! It’s very spacious and there’s no bats or rats or bugs, there’s soft moss everywhere and a nice cool pool with a small waterfall to relax in or help shed my scales. I’ve got lots of stuff I like there like star charts and spyglasses and shiny rocks and gems, some stuff Dami has given me, some art i made that i’m proud of. I’m still young so my horde isn’t that big yet but it’s gonna be huge when i’m older! Dami will help me.”

“Will I?”

“Won’t you?” Jon gave him puppy dog eyes. “Even if you don’t live with me it’s still your horde too. What’s mine is yours. If we don’t have a big horde then it’s like we don’t care about eachother or something!”

“Tt. Don’t be an idiot. Of course I will help, I already do.”

Jon smiled and hugged Damian again, nuzzling the top of his hair. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Damian blushed, embarrassed.

“Jon, there’s people around.”

“Hmm?” He said, wrapping his tail around Damian. “Why are you pointing that out?”

“Tt. You’re warm.”

“And you’re cool like a nice rock. But so squishy. Humans are so squishy, like babies. It’s very cute.”

“Why don’t you live with your dragon, if you’re so close?” Maya asked Damian.

“My family doesn’t know about him. They’d want to know where I'd gone, and ask to visit my new home. It’s easier just to pretend I don’t notice them trying to set me up with village women and return every day with a jewel from Jon’s horde. I tell them It’s my payment for my performance but I replace it the next day and take a new one.”

“How does your family afford meals?” Kathy asked.

Damian scoffed. “My father is one of the wealthiest nobles in the kingdom. All my other brothers became knights in his service, but I’m sick of fighting. I just want peace.”

Kathy and Maya shared a look. “Sometimes that’s all I want, too.” Kathy confesses. “But I have a job, and I need to report back to my king. What should I say?”

“Say the dragon was fearsome and made you leave him and the bard alone. I don’t want people bothering me.” Damian groused.

“No, don’t do that! Then people will still think dragons are bad, and I won’t have any human friends.”

“Jon, I keep telling you, people don’t understand that dragons are good.”

“Then let’s change that!” Maya spoke up. “You talk like people can never change their minds! But I did! Kathy did! Make them see you for who you are, both of you. You should bring your family to meet Jon.”

“Out of the question! They would slay him on sight!”

Jon puffed up his chest. “As if they would have any chance, my fire breath can melt their weapons!”

“And burn them to a crisp!”

“Ah, right. That would be rude.”

“Ya think?!”

“But there must be something we can do!” Kathy proclaimed. “Maybe…. You’re a bard. You could write a song! Spread it around! Or a book, all about your life with Jon. Change people’s minds, then have him meet them.”

Jon’s tail swished. “I like collecting books. They’re so pretty.”

Damian sighed. “Things are fine as they are. Jon and I are happy. If we get caught up in this crusade to end human-on-dragon violence, we would become a target. I just want to be left alone.”

Jon sighed. “I really wish I could add you to my horde. I’d give you the nicest things, whatever you asked for.”

Damian shot him a glare. “And what would I tell my family?”

“You’ve got a secret boyfriend in the woods and you’re running away to escape homophobia, but you’ll be back to visit.”

“A secret boyfriend, who flies and finds me collectables.”

Jon nodded. “And who loves you very much.”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose. “They’ll still want to meet you.”

“I appreciate that you want to be left alone, but I can’t just let an injustice like this stand by. Dragons deserve to be respected! I am going to have to tell the King about this.” Kathy spoke decisively.

“I think it would help if a bard could eloquently communicate the situation.” Maya tried to convince Damian.

“Me, Eloquent? Please. I just like music. I hate talking to people.”

Maya frowned. “Alright, what if we take in Jon as a prisoner with you nearby to show that he’s harmless?”

“No. You can’t put him at risk like that. He’s the only thing that matters to me in this godforsaken world, I will not let you harm a scale on his hide.”

“Jesus Christ, who hurt you?”

“Damian just has these black moods a lot. Don’t you know anyone like that, who gets sullen for no good reason? The best thing is to just give him whatever he wants and stay by his side.”

“We’ll go alone. But we’ll tell him what we’ve learned.”

Damian sighed. “If you must, I cannot stop you.”

And so the two brave knights returned to their king, who went down in history as the ruler who united the humans and the dragons in harmony. Kept out of history were the two boys who started it all, as they just wanted to be left alone, and sing songs in the mountains.

#damian wayne #jonathan samuel kent #damian al ghul wayne #jon kent #super sons #supersons #ask answered #anon ask #my fanfic #fanfic #fanfic talk #jonathan kent #fantasy au #dc comics #jondami #damijon

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whumble-beeee · 1 month

Text

What's In a Name?

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 8

Content: mentioned past attempted noncon, hysterical whumpee/nervous breakdown (seriously yall, it gets bad), disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, tied up/handcuffs, noncon unshirtening, past captivity references

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[While following this guide, as well as generally while playing the wonderful game that is villainy, you will find that the advice can rarely be fitted to every specific scenario. But one piece of advice is universal: If you value your freedom, your loved ones, and your life, you must never reveal your secret identity to your captured hero. As soon as you do, there is no more facade. Villainy is no longer a game. It is your life. And heroes will not hesitate to destroy your life if it means they can win the game.

If a hero (or ANY untrusted party) ever happens upon your secret identity, it is your responsibility, as a villain and as a human being, to accept the end of your life as you know it…

Or to ensure that the hero can never tell another living soul.]

* * * * * * * *

“See you soon?” Deeby repeated Sweater-vest’s last words incredulously. “See you soon?! Christ, and you know he knows– god, he just needs to stop being such un pendejo and shut the hell up, stop making everything about his goddamn god complex and shoving it en las caras de todos–”

The sudden anger from the usually cool and smug Deeby did not help the apparent panic attack seeping ever so quickly into Stan’s consciousness, especially with said seething bounty hunter circling around the room like an angry shark as he muttered to himself and gesticulated wildly.

Stan cowered to hide his shirtlessness from said angry shark. His chest and limbs started to buzz from all the excess oxygen entering his system as he took in heavy breaths, his head spinning, dizzy, hurting, every muscle clenching.

“--y quién se cree ese cabrón para venir a joderme MI TRABAJO?”

He was so angry. So loud, talking so fast, and what the hell was he even saying?! It was too much, too much.

“Y la puta Lana no puede ni aparecer para decirme que me está jodiendo la vida OTRA VEZ porque es lo único que le encanta hacer, joderme TODO lo que–”

Stop it stop it stay calm stay calm please not now please please please not now you can’t show weakness like this in front of your kidnapper you can’t stop it STOP IT–

He took in an involuntary loud heaving breath. Then fell into a stuttering slew of smaller breaths as he tried to keep quiet, and Deeby finally took notice of the state of his captive.

Stan squeaked and pulled the jacket around himself tighter. He was small, he was silent, he was invisible.

Then he gasped in another desperate heaving breath with an involuntary cry of panic when he suddenly ran out of air. He’d stopped breathing entirely with all his efforts.

“Stan? Qué es–... Ah, you good?”

Stan nodded quickly, shaking. “F-fine, fine.”

Deeby raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t lie to me. What is this, you having a panic attack?”

He couldn’t get his eyes to focus, but he shook his head fervently. Then reeled as it made the dizziness and headache so much worse.

“Stan, talk to me, chiquito. If he actually did something to you, tell me. I need a good reason to kill him, you’d be helping me out a lot.”

He didn't actually even hurt me, did he?

“No–! I-I u-uh-uh yes-s-s, but– but–”

I don't WANT to ‘help you out’! I don't want to talk about it! ESPECIALLY not with you.

He let out a whine and failed to swallow the giant knot forming in his throat.

“Alright, is this about the shirt then? Or the uh, the chest thing? Is that why you went from colonizer white to ghost white when you thought I was gonna make you strip earlier?” He walked over to the tattered shirt and scooped it up. “Because if that's what got you, I can assure you I don’t give a single crap what you’ve–... got in your...”

Deeby trailed off as he held up the grey strips of fabric that used to be Stan's button-down.

And just stared.

Stan gawked at the unrecognizable shredded fabric hanging in the bounty hunter's hands. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn't realized how utterly destroyed his beloved shirt was. What was he supposed to wear now?

“That… Motherfucker…” Deeby muttered, almost as as aghast as Stan. “Christ, I knew he'd pull some grade-A bullshit, but this–”

“Y-you KNEW?!” Stan gasped out, surprising himself with the volume of his outburst. “You– You knew he was gonna– gonna try to...”

Deeby didn't look up from the tatters in his hands. “Yeah. He's predictable, if nothing else.”

Stan's entire body felt like it was full of angry bees. “You–... You left me-e alone with ‘im. On pu-urpose.”

“And everything turned out fine, you're fine. Look runt, we need to have a little talk about what–”

“NO!” Stan cried, ignoring the drop in his stomach when Deeby's eyes took on a slight challenging glint at the interruption. “No, don’t change the subject! You left me alone with him! You knew he was gonna try to– to rape me and you left me alone with him! Handcuffed, chained to the floor, powerless, immobile, beat up to hell and– a-and unable to defend myself and you-you left me alone with him!”

The floodgates were opening. The stifling sense of justice suffocating Stan from the inside out wouldn’t let the injustices go unsaid any longer, crashing through his body and just about ready to make him burst. Ironic, given the everything.

Deeby’s jaw set. “Stan. I wouldn’t have left that shit-for-brains alone with anyone if I didn’t have to.”

“Oh, but you– you had to?” Stan taunted, hoping the sarcasm came through in his voice even with the stuttering and heaving breaths. “What, Dee-deeby the great bounty hunter actually answers to someone? Enough to put the uh, the bounty in danger? Or are you just scared of him, wanted to get away?!”

Deeby snorted.

“Hell yeah, I'll do whatever if the buyer asks it,” he proclaimed. "And I'm not scared of that human cringe-fail. The day I'm scared of him is the day I'm dragged away screaming and turned into… well, you, basically. But I mean, that's when he's actually dangerous…"

He seemed to think on it for a moment. Then crouched down in front of Stan, smug grin replaced with something like the look a friend gives when they think you're about to ruin your life with a single dumb decision.

“Honesty, bud… I wouldn't be so tough around a guy like that if I were a guy like you. Best to just fuel his ego.”

Stan physically recoiled. “Don't tell me what–! Who-wh–…”

That insult sounded way too genuine. Since when was the mercenary genuine?

“Wait, wait, you'd…” Stan shook his head, trying to untangle his thoughts from the spaghetti of his mind. This concussion was killing him. He could barely think. “If you were… Who even was th-that?”

Another chuckle. “What, Tweedy? That was Vaughn. He said that earlier, though I applaud your ability to block him out. Wish I could do that.”

Then again, the hunter was most likely just trying to psych him out. Get him to behave again. Stan wouldn't fall for something like that.

“No, idiot, I mean–... I meant who is he? Why is he going to-to see me soon?… And– and for that matter, are you working together? Because it seems like you hate each other.”

Deeby let out a huff of air. “Look, bud, we need to talk about that phone call I had to take, the boss–”

“You're avoiding the question.”

“Well frankly, there's more important things to talk about,” Deeby dismissed quickly. “So I was talking with the boss-lady on the phone while you were–”

“I don’t care about what that Lana person has to say!” Stan said, slamming his hands on the floor for effect, a breath-stealing pang running through his ribs at the jostling. “Jus– Just tell me who you guys are, tell me why I’m here, tell me why I should be scared of ‘a guy like that’! Who ARE you?!”

Deeby narrowed his eyes slightly. “We need to talk about what's going to happen to you next. And you're gonna listen to that. Not yell demands at me like some asshole 6-year-old, because you already know I don't deal with all that ‘who am I, secret identity’ crap, so you're not getting those answers.”

Well actually, judging by the horrible sticky weight that slammed Stan in the gut when Deeby said that, he didn't want to know what horrors awaited him next. So next best thing? Keep being an asshole 6-year-old.

“Why?”

“Anonymity is the most valuable tool you can have in this game.” Deeby recited it like a script, exaggerating a monotone boredom. “Also I'm not an idiot, it's protocol that's saved me before, it helps me do my job without getting invested… take your pick.”

“You're not even wearing your mask any more!” Stan cried. “So much for secret identity!”

“I think what you're meaning to say is ‘thank you for rushing to save my damsel-in-distress ass from some twink with scissors when you heard me screaming for help even though you were dealing with a really important phone call from the worst person ever’. And you're very welcome. Now we need to talk about what I found out in that dumbass phone call and what it means for you.”

He always had an answer for everything, huh? Always another quip.

Stan's blood started to boil, and he may have actually, genuinely growled a little.

“S-so-so so what, you are scared of her, then? You're scared of her and that's why you left me with that monster?!” He tried, spitting back as much smug asshole-ness as Deeby had been throwing at him. “Is that why you hate them, you’re just their damn lackey doing whatever they tell you to do?! Just a puppet for them to guide around, running around capturing supers and serving them up on a silver platter like a good little servant?!”

Deeby stared at him, genuinely stunned by the sudden venom in the captive's words. His fists clenched by his side.

Hm. Stan may have gone too far.

“Look, McKellen,” Deeby spat as he took an authoritative step forward, voice slow, low and dark. “There are things at play here that you can’t know about–”

“Why not?!” Stan felt like he was losing it, voice creaky and high and hoarse. “Obviously I’m gonna be trapped here with you assholes for the rest of my short life until you kill me with some new form of torture experiment bullshit! Why not tell me everything?! Why not do whatever you want with me?! Just tell me! Please!!”

Stan glared desperately at the bounty hunter. He knew he wasn’t even just crossing the line at this point; he was sprinting over the line and stomping on it repeatedly in a panic-fueled frenzy, kicking at it and letting out his full fury as if the line itself had done this to him, as if absolutely decimating the line would somehow fix everything.

Way deep down, almost too far down to admit to himself, he almost hoped the mercenary would see through the insults and the fighting to see the pleading, hurt, scared man underneath. And then take pity. Just let him have this one thing, before he broke entirely.

But the bounty hunter glared right back at him.

“No.” He stated venomously. “Right now, you're going to shut up. And listen.”

As if Stan would ever listen to the orders of his kidnapper. Of a villain.

A small laugh, just a little chuckle, took root his chest. A disbelieving smile cracked across his face.

The absence of the signature unbothered grin, the absence of the mask, the deathly seriousness? Not to mention the gun, the knives, the chains, the handcuffs, the power suppressing collar, no cane or crutch or any viable mobility aid in sight, and beaten so hard multiple times that he probably couldn't run properly anyway even if he did have a knee that actually worked…

This really was hopeless, wasn't it?

He could rage against the dying of the light all he wanted. Scream and shout and cry and fight and say witty things to hide the excruciating, never-ending pain.

But the light would still die all the same.

He clutched Deeby's very own stupid cowboy-ass jacket around his shoulders. He couldn't even defend himself from getting his shirt ripped to shreds right off his body!

And this bitch–

“You– you don't think…” he had to pause to let out a barrage of inappropriate giggles, then shoved up shakily to his feet, back braced against the wall. “You don't still think I'm gonna– that, that I'm gonna escape, do you?!”

Deeby gave pause, eyeing Stan up and down. Really thinking about it. He took a deep breath. A low grumble emanated from the base of his throat.

“No. I don't.”

Stan laughed out again, full force this time. Desperate. Tearful.

“Then just–... just TELL ME!! IT DOESN'T MATTER!! IT DOESN'T!! IT'LL DIE WITH ME!!”

The mercenary's mouth pressed into a thin line. Was that confusion etched into his features? Or worry? Maybe anger…

“It does matter,” He growled through gritted teeth. “It's probably the most important thing you could know, who I am. Who we are.”

Stan let out a loud cry of anguish, screeching out every single frustration at the unfairness of the world, at this situation, at Deeby and Vaughn and whoever Lana was, at the collar and the chains and the cut and bruises and broken bones and his broken, useless knee into a single, guttural sound.

“WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME ANYTIN-GAH-AH!!”

Very, very suddenly, the lapels of Deeby's loosely draped jacket tightened around his body and slammed him back into the wall, the fleece-lined collar of the jacket twisting and pulling on the power-suppressing strap clamped around his neck, contracting it, choking him just as the slam forced all the breath out of his lungs.

Stan clawed back against the force, only managing to grasp at Deeby’s forearms uselessly as they twisted the jacket ever tighter around him. Pinning his arms. Trapping him. He had to heave in and out gasping breaths just to get enough air to breath through his half obstructed airways.

“Look at me, chiquito,” the bounty hunter snarled. “Look me in the eye!”

Stan's panicked eyes paused their sporadic dance around the room. They locked dead onto the mercenary's fiery gaze.

“Did you break your damn brain in the 3 minutes I was gone?” Deeby hissed into his ear. Stan almost screeched in terror. “I don't know what sort of fuckery your mind has been conjuring up that you can't get this very simple concept without going insane,” he jolted Stan and dragged out an involuntary whimper from his throat.

“But whatever it is, shut it down. Now. I'm gonna tell you the bare minimum of what you need to know, and you're gonna sit there and listen or else I won't tell you jack shit and knock you unconscious so I don't have to deal with your bullshit. Agreed?!”

“I– Ah, a-ah, I– No, I- I, no-no no No-o–”

He couldn't get his thoughts to line up properly. They swarmed around his head like locusts in a dust bowl, bouncing into each other, frenzied, an indecipherable cloud of fear and frustration that his horrible attempt at defiance, futile as it may have been, always just made everything worse.

He could never stop himself.

Angry tears rimmed at Stan's eyes. His body hurt. His brain pounded in his skull. His ribs cried out in protest as they pressed into the wall. The various bruises and their dull, throbbing aches, the cuts and bleeding wounds and their sharp, searing screeches, the sticky and caked on dried blood, so familiar now it was almost a second skin, Deeby's weight pinning him to the wall, so similar and yet so different to the way Vaughn had done the same.

No. No, no, no, no.

He squeezed his eyes shut, tears finally falling in hot, fat drops down his cheeks. The bounty hunter was so close, too close. Stan tried to pull away, and he just leaned on him harder, their faces barely inches apart.

“Agreed, chiquito?” The voice rumbled through his entire body, sending shivers up and down his spine.

No no no no no no no he needed to get away, get away now, please please that's all he needed he couldn't get away he couldn't even move his arms he could barely breathe–

“WHY DON'T YOU JUST RAPE ME ALREADY?!” Stan screamed into the endless cacophonous void.

And silence.

And the entire world went still.

Deeby’s mouth fell literally agape.

His grip on Stan loosened considerably. Not out of pity or any other considerate emotion. Just shock.

At least Stan could finally breathe again. Not that he took a single breath in the silence.

“I–...” Deeby finally choked out. “I-I beg you finest fucking what?!”

“Just fucking do it,” Stan hissed, gasping. “We both know you could. I couldn't even stop Vaughn, you think I could stop you?!”

The words spewed out of his mouth faster than he could stop them, like a volcano that had finally exploded its top off in a fiery glory. And the way Deeby looked at him, as if his features were having an all out war over shock, horror, or honestly very justified anger? Oh, that did nothing but fan the flames of Stan's sorrow-filed hysteria.

“Tall ass muscle-bound freak with an actual gun that captured me and beat me up again and again then left me to die?! I don't even know who you are! You can do whatever you want and I can't do jack shit to stop you! Just do it, hurt me, rape me, it doesn't matter! Vaughn knew that, you can too!” Stan attempted to shove the bounty hunter off, but he still didn't move.

“Please, please, I'm begging you, is that what you want?! I'll get on my knees!”

Stan collapsed against Deeby's hold, and to his surprise, Deeby finally let him. Well, not ‘let him,’ more like ‘recoiled and jumped back when he felt Stan collapsing in his grasp'.

All the same.

“Chiquito,” Deeby rasped. “I'm– not exactly sure what or why you're demanding, but I'm not going to–”

“Why not?! It doesn't matter!” Stan assured, holding his arms out to fully present himself now, shedding the jacket onto the floor behind him and taking a daring scoot forward. “I bet you just kicked Vaughn out because you wanted me all to yourself! I bet you just love seeing me scared and helpless and half naked in your stupid fucking yee-yee jacket–”

“Alright, Stan, enough!”

“AT LEAST VAUGHN had the decency to not pretend like he was a decent fucking person like you!” Stan yelled. “We both know you're not above it, fucking professional kidnapper and torturer! So just do it! Like Vaughn wanted to, like he tried to! Finish what he started, you have me all to yourself now! DO IT! DO IT I DARE–”

“The name's Declan.”

The statement was a whisper in the storm. Stan almost missed it. But the resolute certainty of the southern twang stopped him dead in his tracks.

“What–… What did you just–?”

It was astounding how quickly his voice had turned meek from the cacophony of chaos mere seconds before. Dark freckles stood out against an even starker white face than usual.

“It's Declan,” the mercenary stated once more. “My name. My name’s Declan. You wanted t’know who we are, who I am? Fine then, I'm Declan. Want the last name too?”

“I– wait–!”

“It's Cansano. Declan Cansano.”

Stan was shaking, a million thoughts crashing down upon him like a tidal wave. If he weren't already on his knees, surely he would have collapsed.

He hadn't actually… meant any of that. No. Had he? No. He couldn't have. He didn't want to know who the mercenary was. No, he didn't. He didn't, not really! He would never want that! Never!

“That’s not… Wh-why would you…?”

The bounty hunter shrugged. “You wanted to know who I am. You asked, you screamed, you insulted me and you went fuckin’ nuts over it.” His thunder-filled eyes betrayed his completely relaxed demeanor. “Declan Cansano. Don't forget‘t.”

“I just– That's not what– Wait, Deeby, you– Where are you going?!”

Deeby was already halfway to the door when he swiftly spun around, fists clenched and any trace of the easy demeanor vanished in those bright blood-stained eyes.

“I can't fuckin’ deal with you right now!”

Stan nearly launched himself back in fear, right back onto Deeby's stupid, soft jacket. He grasped it up as a barrier between him and the mercenary without even thinking. The mercenary's demeanor relaxed from absolutely terrifying to merely extremely angry at the sorry sight.

“I'm leaving for a bit.” He whipped around and grasped for the lapels of his jacket to yank it on, only for his grasp to come up empty. He whipped around a third time. “And I'll be expectin’ my coat back when I get back! You better've calmed the hell down by then, if you know what’s good for you.”

Wait, wait, he was leaving? No!

Stan tried to scramble after Deeby, but immediately fell to the agony of his knee and the length of his leash.

“Don't go, please!” he pleaded.

Deeby didn’t stop. “Why?”

What if you come back with more torture tools?

What if you don't come back at all?

I still have more questions for you.

You can't just leave me here, I'm hurt!

I shouldn't be alone right now. I can't. I'm scared of what will happen, I'm going insane.

Even you are better than no one at all.

“What– what if Vaughn comes back?!”

Deeby scoffed. “I'm not going that far, damn. Eat some protein bars while I'm gone so you don't die, should help with the insanity. Back soon.”

And the door to the room closed shut behind him, the click echoing off the walls in the sudden unbearable silence.

Stan collapsed to the floor, defeated.

He clutched the jacket closer.

Pulled it tight around his shoulders, fingernails leaving small crescent-shaped indents on the well-worn hide. The cotton lining was so surprisingly soft against his skin. Hell, he could smell the dirt and musk that permeated the jacket from years of use, the smal signs that this jacket had seen the capture of dozens of supers.

Declan.

Declan Cansano.

Professional Superhero-Hunter.

Stan screamed into the endless abyss around him.

And this time, Declan didn’t come back to save him.

* * * * * * * *

#whump #heroes and villains #whump writing #whumper #whumpee #hero whump #defiant whumpee #kidnapping whump #captivity whump #trans whumpee #disabled whumpee #(un)official guide #mentioned noncon #tw nervous breakdown #GOD this one took SO LONG TO EDIT #AND WRITE #its basically unrecogniseable from its first draft bc i just kept having new ideas that fit the themes better #and changing it to help make it make sense #usually it wouldnt be this bad but i wrote it over like 3 serperate weeks in short bursts #so i didnt have any of the usual writing fervor in it at first and the pacing was FUCKED lol #I FINALLY GOT IT THO #its still not perfect but its pretty good and i CANNOT work on this any longer #ALL OF THIS was done on my phone btw. horrible time #would not reccomend #use a computer if you can #anyway ive been thinking about this specific scenario literally since before i started writing the actual story down #it was one of the main story beats #a changing of the tides #theres gonna be a lot of those pretty soon actually

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for-a-longlongtime · 7 months

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Songs and Musings in the Key of Peña-Rockford - Pt 2

Edit: oops, I accidentally-purposely snippeted when @legendary-pink-dot tried to torture me. Click here for a 'Javi pressed down on Tim's desk' teaser.

Time to play around and discover some more song vibes. First two were picked by @sin-djarin who, I am convinced, should really make a career out of soundtracking fic, shows and movies because she's so good at it.

youtube

Guns - All Them Witches

Listen, this one has me fucked up in ways that I can't even explain. But I feel this song in my soul when I think of Peña and Rockford - in so many ways. It's the lyrics with the music and the pent up feelings and everything. (and gun holsters, let's not forget about those...)

Shoot your guns as loud as you can Loud as you can, loud as you can Fight your wars as long as you can Long as you can, long as you can

Does this really make you a man Make you a man, make you a man? Wipe that blood off your hands Off your hands, off your hands

Now let's move forward

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Dirt - Depeche Mode

And do you feel it? Said, do you feel it when you touch me? I said, do you feel it when you touch me? I'm fire Well, there's a fire Yeah, alright

It's just a burning inside It's just a burning inside Said, do you feel it? Said, do you feel it when you cut me? Said, do you feel it when you cut me?

@sin-djarin killing it with naming this one as a Tim song.

I mean, what more is there to say? This is definitely Tim in his car, plans for the night. No gun holsters or white shirt, no work clothes, but something sharper and darker, fresh cologne, stubble a little heavier than it was earlier in the day. Aching for a drink or two and to forget about the day, the week, finally out of the office and headed somewhere he doesn't have to think about others, just about himself.(Just so you know, this definitely isn't granny's Mansion that he's headed to).

youtube

Puro Teatro - La Lupe

Hit play and tell me you can't hear this playing in a bar where Javier is having a couple of whiskeys. Like, I can SEE it. Taste the smoke in the air. This song is from the soundtrack of Almodovar's Women On The Verge of A Nervous Break Down (yes, I absolutely got this from Pedro's picks on the Breaking Techniques interview). The only reason why I'm not including lyric snippets here - like I'm doing with most of the others - is because the lyrics do not specifically relate to the WIP story IMO.

youtube

El Cuarto De Tula - Buena Vista Social Club

I mean... yes. Buena Vista Social Club always. Just listen to the music.

youtube

Soy El Prohibido - Olga Guillot

Soy ese vicio de tu piel que ya no puedes desprender soy lo prohibido Soy esa fiebre de tu ser que te domina sin querer, soy lo prohibido

(English translation:

I am that vice of your skin that you can no longer let go I am the forbidden I am that fever of your being that dominates you without wanting to I am the forbidden)

Another bolero that is heavy on vibes rather than lyrical meaning. Remember Pancho Herrara in that bar slowdancing with his lover to Dos Gardenias, everybody staring at them? It's that kind of evening, but less center of attention (and no cracking bottles of aguardiente on anyone's head). It's Javier talking to a woman at the bar, eyes smiling, couple of glasses of liquor, lips brushing briefly over her neck as he leans in to say something. Her wanting him to come dance with her, but he's not really a dancer - still, he'll wrap an arm around her and sway her slightly to this song for a moment.

youtube

Sinner Man - Nina Simone

I'm finding it a lot easier to imagine Rockford's favorite artists and songs than Javi's, to be honest. For some reason I feel that while Javier likes to listen to music, he's less specific with 'this particular song is my favorite' etc. However, I'm dead certain that he has at least a Nina Simone album or two that he'll listen to a lot.

When it comes to anger, insecurities, conflict - looking back at Colombia in particular -, this one stands out to me. The building crescendo, like when you push away your feelings and fears but eventually it will all come up to the surface and spill over. When this song comes on, Javier listens. He'll light up a cigarette and listen, with that slight frown - you know the one I mean - on his face, the one when he's deep in thought. There's not much drama about it, he doesn't get particularly emotional about it... he just really listens. Every time. He likes it, not in a comforting way, but because he knows this is how things feel when shit goes down and certain memories won't leave.

Don't you see me down here prayin'? But the Lord said Go to the Devil, the Lord said Go to the Devil He said go to the Devil All on that day

Sinnerman, you oughta be prayin' Oughta be prayin', all on that day

-------------------------------------------

Links to previous posts in this WIP musings series:

The Law Enforcement Ball poll, a.k.a. where it all started (and escalated quickly)

'I Fought The Law (And The Law Won): WIP snippet

Songs and Musings in the Key Of Pena-Rockford Pt 1

Thots and 🐱 Poll, Sunday Evening edition

I'm not tagging people in these musing posts because I don't want to spam y'all; I'll do that only for actual written fic posts, JSYK. If you want your name added to that taglist to be notified when the first chapter drops (and there'll probably be another WIP snippet post before that), leave a comment to let me know.

#pedro pascal characters #javier pena fic #tim rockford fic #WIP #javier pena x tim rockford #tim rockford x javier pena #javier pena x reader x tim rockford #tim rockford x reader x javier pena #Youtube

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farlydatau · 8 months

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#gift ideas #gift #gifts #tshirt #bestgift #gift idea #de la soul #de la soul shirt #Cartoon Portraits #Rap Graphic Tee #stakes is high #music on vinyl #evermore vinyl #De La Soul Fan #limited tshirt #3 feet high rising #daisy age #de la soul tee #Jazz Rap

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jules-has-notes · 5 months

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Aca Top 10: Video Games — VoicePlay music video

youtube

Legend has it that video games helped keep the boys of 4:2:Five out of trouble during their early touring days. And photographic evidence indicates that it continued well into the VoicePlay era. But gaming isn't just about passing time and bonding with friends when you're a traveling musician. It can also be a source of inspiration for a wildly entertaining musical medley.

Details:

title: Aca Top 10 — Video Games

original songs: [0:07] HALO theme (2002); [0:26] Angry Birds theme (2009); [0:44] Pokémon Red & Blue opening theme (1996); [0:56] Minecraft theme (2009); [1:08] Final Fantasy main theme (1987); [1:22] "Dragonborn" from The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (2011); [1:40] "Type A" theme from Tetris (1988); [1:56] "Mortal Kombat (Techno-Syndrome)" from Mortal Kombat (1992); [2:14] Legend of Zelda overworld theme (1987); [2:50] Pong sound effects (1972); [2:57] Super Mario Bros. overworld theme (1985)

written by: HALO theme by Martin O'Donnell & Michael Salvatori; Angry Birds theme by Ari Pulkkinen; Pokémon Red & Blue theme by Junichi Masuda; Minecraft theme by Daniel "C418" Rosenfeld; Final Fantasy main theme by Nobuo Uematsu; "Dragonborn" Skyrim theme by Jeremy Soule; Tetris "Type A" theme based on Russian folk song "Korobeiniki", arranged by Hirokazu Tanaka; "Mortal Kombat (Techno-Syndrome)" by Maurice "Praga Khan" Engelen & Olivier Adams; Legend of Zelda overworld theme by Koji Kondo; Pong sound effects created by Allan Alcorn; Super Mario Bros. overworld theme by Koji Kondo

arranged by: Geoff Castellucci & Layne Stein

release date: 24 February 2015

My favorite bits:

the 8-bit logo during the intro, and Layne making sound effects for Earl's requisite Mountain Dew

all of them bopping around to some degree during the Angry Birds section

Twitch streamer Layne and his adorable laugh

impressively whistling in three-part harmony for Tetris

Earl button mashing like a filthy casual, then covering his eyes during the gory fatality part

Layne using ingressive phonation to replicate the digitized voice effect at the end of Mortal Kombat

techo remix Zelda!

Geoff working so hard to not laugh after doing his part of the Pong bit

Tony just watching and having snacks during the Mario section because the 8-bit music didn't provide a part for him to sing

Trivia:

○ Several of these pieces have appeared in later VoicePlay videos:

They did a full version of the HALO theme with founding 4:2:Five member Scott Porter in 2021 as a tribute to a departed friend.

Adriana Arellano and Cesar De La Rosa joined them for a short, soothing rendition of the Minecraft theme.

They added a sample of the main Skyrim theme to their cover of "The Dragonborn Comes" with Omar Cardona.

The guys included a snippet of "Still Alive" over the patron roll just as a fun bonus for themselves, but it received such an enthusiastic response from fans that they recorded a full version of it during their first PartWork series.

They integrated elements of the original NES Mario theme and sound effects into their arrangement for "Peaches" from the 2023 Super Mario Bros. movie.

○ Apparently, Geoff cracking up during the Pong bit caused several outtakes. (Good thing they were all filmed separately, so he was the only one who had to start over when he broke.)

○ Their wardrobe represents a few different video game franchises.

Tony has a Pikachu hat from Pokémon.

Eli is repping an old-school Atari logo shirt, which was already part of his regular wardrobe.

Geoff wears a Minecraft creeper shirt from Hot Topic.

Earl is sporting a Mega Man shirt.

Layne has a subtle Minecraft hoodie with enderman eyes on the hood from ThinkGeek.

#VoicePlay #music video #a cappella #video game music #instrumental music #music #video #series: Aca Top 10

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pkmnprideflags · 1 year

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Kukui & Burnet's pet names in Spanish are giving me life

Fun fact: I am learning to speak Spanish! And an unironic method I have of practicing my Spanish comprehension is reading random articles on WikiDex, the largest Spanish Pokémon fan wiki. I was looking at their page for Professor Burnet [named Profesora Pimpinela in the Spanish localization], and I noticed that Kukui and Burnet are a touch more affectionate with each other in the Spanish script than they are in English. So today on Lizzie's Weird Obsessions, let's compare the scripts of the English and Spanish versions of Pokémon Sun and Moon.

The only major differences in their dialogue occur in Burnet´s first scene, when Kukui introduces her to the player at the Dimensional Research Lab. Both versions of the scene open with Kukui calling her a term of endearment - "honey" in English, and "cariño" in Spanish. Her response is where the two scripts differ, though.

In the English version, Burnet simply says, "Oh, hi!" But in the Spanish script she says, "¡Hola, pechoncito! ¡Digo, pichoncito!"

"Pechoncito" is not a real word, which resulted in me being very confused. I ended up making a post on a Spanish learning subreddit asking if anyone had ideas for what this meant. The internet came to the conclusion that Burnet is making a pun on "pecho," meaning chest, possibly as a dig at Kukui for being allergic to shirts. It's difficult to translate into English, but essentially she says "pechoncito," then 'corrects' herself to "pichoncito," a term of endearment that literally means "little pigeon." So she's simultaneously making fun of her husband and calling him a sweet term. "you're a weirdo but you're my weirdo." awwww~

Not only does the Spanish script throw in that random endearing pun, but Kukui's following line is also made more affectionate in the Spanish script. Here's the line in the English versions:

"This here's Professor Burnet. She runs the Dimensional Research Lab, yeah… And she's also my wife!"

The Spanish script adds an extra term of endearment to Kukui's line:

Spanish script: "Mira, esta es la Profesora Pimpinela. Ella dirige el Centro de Investigaciones Dimensionales. No solo eso, además es mi palomita. O sea, mi esposa." Translation: "Look, this is Professor Pimpinela. She runs the Dimensional Investigation Center. Not just that, she's also my darling. In other words, my wife."

The phrasing almost makes it seem like he gets so caught up in how much he loves her that he just says the term of endearment, then realizes that doesn't clarify their relationship to the player and has to go back and say "she's my wife"... my heart...

Also, the specific term of endearment he uses, "palomita," literally means "little dove." Yeah, apparently in the Spanish localization Kukui & Burnet call each other pigeons a lot. I don't know if that's like a Spanish/Hispanic cultural thing or just a them thing. Regardless, still adorable. I demand fanart of them with Pidgey and Pidove immediately

If anyone else knows about them having similar terms of endearment in other languages, please share! These two are adorable and any information about them will make my soul happy!!

#professor kukui #professor burnet #eternalhoneymoonshipping #pokémon sun and moon #not a pride flag #lizzie speaks #lizzie´s bilingual adventures

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bowl-of-shortness · 8 months

Note

Sooo Pandora's grandfather 👀who that?

Pandora’s grandfather (and arguably the most present dead person in Pandora’s life because of her talent), is Diana’s (or Pandora mom) dad.

He’s a very tall individual, long fluffy hair like Pandora, slicked and tied back out of his face, oval glasses with chains on them, a full beard, along with a long fur accented coat. He wore a dress shirt and vest underneath his coat and a simple set of pants and black boots.

His name was Franklin De La Dáinn

He was a friendly and very understanding person before he went into a downward spiral of fear and paranoia after he met the Lockwoods.

He knew that people wanted him dead, but he could read souls, meaning most times the people who wanted him and his family dead weren’t able to because they’re simple commoners or have restraint.

But the Lockwoods…

He read their souls and realized just how many atrocities had been committed by them towards other nobles, other kingdoms, other people. And he knew that they were at their mercy.

He hastily went to an oracle who confirmed his suspicions, but offered him hope that two of his daughters would survive and go on to carry the family name. And so he held onto that hope as much as he could until the day came.

After death, he wakes up in front of Maveth, who is looking at him and his family with sorrow. Maveth explains that they know who he is, so they could understand why he was so upset. The family agrees. He lends an offer he gives every soul, the chance to go back to see the world of the living whenever you want. The price? Nobody can see or hear you, that is, unless you’re special in a certain magical way.

So they agreed, and spent most of their time in their ancestral mansion where they watched over Diana and Elizabeth, the two remaining family members. They watched Diana become an adventurer for some time, fighting and become renounced for how much good she’d done. She ultimately was the one who killed the Lockwoods, unaware of their children.

Pandora was 10 when she gained her talent, two years after Victor left. When she did, the first thing she saw was her grandfather, admiring the amount of blueprints and ideas Pandora had as an engineer.

She was spooked at first, obviously she’d never seen the man outside of photos. But he was very gentle with her and told her that she should work with her siblings on one particular idea, and then bring it to her parents.

So she did, she brought the blueprints to them, and it was the first time in 2 years that the kids had actually all been together with each other. Things were looking up.

Once they finished, they brought the blueprint to their parents, who both decided that this solution to their travel and trade issue between kingdoms, would be best.

And therefore the first trains of Selcouth were constructed.

Of course, it doesn’t take long before the siblings go back to the way they were, which is crushing to Pandora, but she always had other family around to comfort her.

Pandora actually styles her hair after her Grandfather, with her own spin on it, of course.

#alchemy brews #Pandora de la dáinn #oc #original oc #original character #Franklin de la dáinn

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sardonic-the-writer · 10 days

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middle art by @no-interest-rightnow. warnings for topics relating to drug abuse

basic info/pre-gorillaz.

• nicknamed puck. real name is unknown

• always seen wearing sunglasses of different sorts. doesn't matter what kind, just as long as their eyes are covered. no one's ever seen them

• no specifically stated gender, but it's implied that they are trans masculine. only ever referred to with gender nonspecific terms

• clothing style consists of a cross between layered t-shirts with ironic sayings on them (ex: world greatest grandparent) or baggy clothing with bright patterns. most are ratty & full of holes, but they never change their style

• not much is known about their background. a few documents accessible to the public lets you know puck was born in america before moving to the u.k when eighteen

• met 2D, then known as stuart pot, there through a job at uncle norman's organ emporium and a shared love of art. became good friends. didn't really care for paula cracker at the time, but mostly kept to themself anyways

• came to know murdoc almost a year later after the first infamous car incident. they didn't like him at first, in fact, they hated him, and only stuck around him to make sure he took proper care of 2D. actually broke the bassist's nose in a fight after he flung their friend out of a car, successfully blackening his second eye

• only reason they ever got roped into the gorillaz shtick was thanks to 2D, who refused to be a singer for murdoc unless puck was brought along. they couldn't sing, nor play any instruments, but they could write. and had a keen ear for music

• met russel and noodle through the band not long after, becoming much better mates with them than murdoc almost immediately

• has a drug problem. it's especially bad in their earlier years. dabbles in hardcore drugs & smokes way too much weed. they only ever try to hold out if noodle is around, attempting to be a semi-good role model for the kid. even get's on to 2D for being high when he's supposed to watch her

phase one — 'gorillaz' 24 years old, 2001

• not an official band member for the gorillaz. they don't play on tracks or anything. sort of just hangs around & gets their hands on lyrics or beats. no stage presence

• had their own space before the band. but after the debut album kicked off, they barely bothered to visit it. basically just lives wherever the band does at this point

• travels with them pretty much everywhere too. especially after the release of 'gorilla'. technically on payroll as a writer and as a roadie, but still sleeps in the same living space as the band. 2D has a little trouble getting shut eye in those first few months otherwise

• on the first album, puck is credited with writing lyrics for quite a few songs, but most noticeably 19-2000, clint eastwood, 5/4, as well as directing most of the music videos (skipped out on rock the house after hearing murdoc would be wearing a thing)

• fights with said bass player quite a lot during this time. normally over small things, but it's only ever amplified by him being drunk and puck high. russel usually steps in to physically separate the two in time

• puck doesn't care much for paparazzi. (that's an understatement. once they'd thrown a brick at a reporters camera to get them to back off), but they do participate in a few magazine/radio interviews as long as they've been planned ahead of time. because of this, puck's gone on public record stating their music inspiration comes mainly from the cure, pearl jam, de la soul, and other bands

• appears in a few self dubbed 'gorillaz-bitez' at the time; most noticeably 'game of death' in which they are seen happily betting against murdoc and winning

• not counting the few pictures still around and/or taken pre-gorillaz, this is when puck appears the most feminine or least masculine. as time progresses, subtle changes are added

phase two — 'demon days' 28 years old, 2005

• in between phase one and two after the band took a break, puck floats around the world doing odd jobs and buying way too many drugs (a downer when it comes to their addiction. doesn't care for stuff that's all high energy. prefers the mellow feeling weed & stuff like shrooms or xanax will bring)

• comes back to the band for a second album, but only after noodle reached out from an abandoned kong studios with the building blocks for a new album. puck automatically accepts her offer, and helps her refine some of the demon days songs before contacting anyone else

• most noticeably dedicates a lot of their time into el manana, o green world, white light, every planet we reach is dead, and dirty harry

• almost got fired by kong studios at one point for showing up to an anti-war protest where the public could see, but the entire band went to bat for them and ended up supporting the motivation behind dirty harry as a result

• this phase is when they form even closer with a young noodle. even manages to build an okay relationship with murdoc through demon days, to the point where puck wouldn't mind one bit if he needed to ask a favor of them—a huge step forward

• puck also got absolutely pumped when de la soul agreed to fly out and record their parts for feel good inc. just knew that noodles melody and their lyrics would make for an unforgettable song, and they were more than right

• is actually in the feel good inc. music video as an extra/cameo instead of just directing it, marking their first official onscreen debut as an unofficial member of gorillaz, even if they aren't in the band

• canonically slept with murdoc around phase two. neither of them were sober when it happened, and puck swears it was only to shut murdoc up. but everyone noticed the change in mood for the two of them the following weeks

• it does happen again, and this time the both of them are sober. puck will kill anyone if they ever attempt to bring that up

• during the mtv cribs episode done on gorillaz that murdoc helps the channel produce, puck can be seen passed out and drooling in a bedroom that clearly doesn't belong to any other band members, more or less confirming that they live full time with the band now

• their info card on screen reads, "nickname: puck. occupation: writer, director, friend of 2D's. fun fact: used to have a speech impediment," (which is how they got the name puck since fuck used to be their favorite word.) only wakes up to chase everyone out after murdoc leans to whisper something in their ear

• wasn't actually present during jimmy manson's audition and subsequential humiliation, so manson didn't really care about killing them as much in comparison to the rest of the band. however, right before the filming of the el manana music video, coincidentally right about the time manson works his way up in the music industry ranks, puck and him got into a huge fight over pulling/not pulling certain songs. they won in the end, and it angered him so much that he ended up plotting to kill them along with everyone else. but they're on the bottom of his list overall

• after el manana, puck copies the rest of the band and essentially drops off the face of the earth. with noodle presumed dead, it marks the beginning of a very dark time in their life

phase three — 'plastic beach' 33 years old, 2010

• puck draws in on themself a lot in the years between demon days and plastic beach. they end up going back to their hometown in america to lie low for a while, but it only launches them into the beginning of a long mental episode

• only makes one call during those long months in america, and it's just to let 2D know they went back to america in case he came looking for them. they hoped he wouldn't, and he didn't

• eventually the boogeyman finds and kidnapps them around the same time as 2D; both instances under murdoc's orders. the likes of which puck hadn't seem much less talked to since the bands last el manana recording

• he claims that he needs the both of them in order to make a new album

• plastic beach becomes puck's mental prison. unlike 2D, who is kept prisoner by a fear of both whales and now murdoc, they end up developing a crippling mentality that confines them only to the recording studio and their room

• puck's sunglasses reflect how they change as a person through each of the phases, and it really shows here. on the debut album, they had a simple knockoff pair. on demon days they were wore star shaped ones, but on plastic beach they have a singular pair held together with tape; the roughest they ever get. in later phases the quality of their sunglasses slowly become better until eventually puck's wearing a pair of shiny purple shades in song machine, signifying their official point of recovery

• they hate cyborg noodle. phase three will always be a little blurry to them, thanks to drugs & trauma responses, but they distinctly remember hating cyborg noodle and murdoc for creating her. it reminded puck too much of the real noodle; who at the time they assumed to be dead

• the climax of everything horrible happens two days before the anniversary of noodles 'death'. puck nearly died from an overdose. it was the lowest point in their life, and the only time 2D ever saw murdoc worried for someone other than himself during that phase

• they had really gotten into r.e.m then—so much so, that that's what was playing as they choked on their own vomit in a drug induced sleep—murdoc attempting to kick the door to their room down in the background as it happens

• gets all their drugs through snoop dog when he visits the island to record his bits for videos & songs. murdoc and cyborg noodle won't let them leave, so it's not like they can get their fix any other way

• actually wrote melancholy hill all by themself (with some post-editing from, 2D) during plastic beach. it's supposed to represent how alone they felt and how horrible their drug problems got on the island. it was the first song they ever wrote completely about themself or their experiences to get released under a lable

• also had a hand in stylo, empire ants, and super fast jellyfish, but between spending months curled up in their room pushing their body to the limit with drugs & trying to keep 2D from making the same mistakes, melancholy hill took up most of puck's time

• relies heavily on music and nothing else during this time; not even 2D, who they still feel bad about basically mentally abandoning during plastic beach

• the events of rhinestone eyes is a giant cacophony of mixed feelings for puck. seeing russel again and noodle alive while avoiding helicopters that are trying to kill them can really confused a mentally fucked guy. because that's what they were at that point. mentally fucked

• puck lost a lot during plastic beach. it will take them a long long time to ever forgive murdoc for this years spent at the pink island (specifically eight years later at the end of phase five when he finally gets out of jail), but they never forget

phase four — 'humanz' 40 years old, 2017

• this is officially the period in time where they finally attempt to get clean

• their drug habit was on and off during the seven year break in between plastic beach and humanz, but it was clear to anyone that knew them that they were trying their best to quit

• the long break between albums was the only reason puck came back for humanz. it gave them time to heal and pull themself out of the state they had been in. if they hadn't had that opportunity, puck isn't sure they would have returned to gorillaz at all

• they actually grow a little scruff around this phase as spotted by the tabloids, causing the public to start speculating about their gender again (something they've always had to deal with and hated)

• works on songs like busted and blue during this time. that actually was a scrapped song puck started on plastic beach, and only decided to bring it back and finish it for humanz. noodle helped them to refine it

• despite writing busted and blue, puck put the least amount of work and effort on the humanz album than any other. mostly because they were trying to get sober. still makes a guest appearance in the saturnz barz music video & collaborates with popcaan on his part of the song some

• starts going to rehab regularly! 2D even starts going with them in phase four as a show of support which really helps puck to pull through. 2D himself is still on painkillers, but noticeably less so than before

• the press and public attention makes recovery hard, but they manage to finally pull through by the end of humanz (sober six years as of 2024!)

• they do have an altercation with an obsessive old dealer of theirs once they get off drugs. the dealer liked being able to boast that she sold drugs to famous people, most of the time overcharging puck because she knew they could afford it, so she got really aggressive when her main means of funding dried up—to the point where she managed to track puck down and get ugly. if murdoc hadn't been there to help scare the ex-dealer off, puck was unsure what would have happened

• this was the beginning of the uptick in their relationship

phase five — 'the now now' 41 years old, 2018

• phase five is a huge change in pucks life for the better. it's the beginning of their happier years

• thinks it's because murdoc got sent to jail at first. but as time goes on and the pit in their chest continues to ache, they realize that's not it

• really puck's just happy because nothing fucking insane is going on with the band for once. no more missing eyes (than usual), no zombies or ghosts, and definitely no trash islands painted pink, stuff still gets strange of course, i.e a missing bassist and meetings with jack black and his saxophone, but that stuff is more to their liking

• has time to actually pick up old & new hobbies other than music and song writing. particularly gets really into reading and film analasis

• around this time is when the subject of murdoc becomes tricks for them, but for a different reason than usual

• puck thinks the '#freemurdoc' movement is pretty silly. doesn't really want him to stay there, but puck knows murdoc has been to jail enough to watch out for himself well enough

• none of that stops them from visiting the bass player in jail though. they find themself doing it once or twice instead of just calling, which was more than any of the other band members could say

• a long few years ago, puck used to (and sometimes still does) watch the powerpuff girls with noodle when she was younger, so the both of them were understandably psyched when ace accepted the offer to take murdoc's place in the next album. noodles a bit more excited, though, seeing as puck is still trying to come to terms with the fact that they liked and missed murdoc, so they were preoccupied by that

• ace makes a comment a few months in that he just naturally assumed that puck & his buddy were together, which naturally makes their face light up a bright red. gets to avoid eye contact thanks to their sunglasses

• that may have influenced how they wrote song lyrics with the now now; just like with 2D

• by the end of the now now, puck has gone from being behind the writing of a few background songs & main hits on albums to nearly every single song. they, along with some contributions and suggestions from the rest of the band, are the main reason lyrics are even added to the melodies at this point

• wrote tranz, which is their way of not-so-subtly writing about how it feels to be them in a bodily sense, which underlying tones of the rest of the bands influence on them as a person throughout the years

• can be seen stumbling around in the humility music video while attempting to roller skate with 2D, who had been attempting to teach them how to do so properly all week. eventually it just shows them giving up and laying down in the grass to watch the clouds go by

• after the album is released to the public, puck appears at their second ever award show, since all the way back in demon days in fact, when the album gets nominated for a category or two. even dresses up. at least by their definition, wearing a tie haphazardly over their normal clothes. it isn't even tied right—something russel laughs at

• that means they are there when the band is announced to have won the award. is very awkward on stage as noodle accepts the award, but thinks that murdoc's pre-recorded thank you message that is shown is really funny. fun fact, that exact moment at the award show where murdoc showed up on screen was when puck realized that they really did miss and like him—romantically

• even after he finally gets out of jail for real, puck spends the next five years refusing to let murdoc know about their feelings. much to everyone else's chagrin

phase six — 'song machine' 43 years old, 2020

• phase six was probably the first time in decades that puck ever truly felt happy

• working on the song machine was a way for them to finally leave plastic beach and all the memories associated with it behind. the lost chord was their was of saying good-bye, and 2D's way of finally forgiving murdoc for the same reasons

• song machine really was just puck having fun and not worrying about anything for the first time in a while. they're sober, have a good (bordering on romantic) relationship with murdoc, and are even making more public appearances with the band for the first time in a while. still hates the paparazzi, though they do apologize for the brick incident on record around this time

• is actually able to stop using nicotine gum & patches to curb their need for cigarettes here. (they quit smoking cigs along with everything else when they got clean in humanz. complete cold turkey)

• still keeps in contact with ace at this point even though he's gone and murdoc is back in the band

• is absolutely just chilling the entire time. is in all the music videos shown having the time of their life after his most recent years, only really stepping out of their little bubble of happiness to help with some minor incidents (the pink ghost dilemma, sinkhole problems, etc.)

• probably helps murdoc build his little anti-negative energy hide out, and definitely feels a little bad about leaving the man behind during the desole music video

• when they go into space with everyone else in the winnebago, their spacesuit is purple and has crude graffiti like drawings all over it—curtesy of the whole band

• not a lot happens lore wise to puck during this phase, and that's perfectly all right with them. they're finally completely sober and getting to hang out with the people they care about the most. what else could they want?

phase seven — 'cracker island' 46 years old, 2023

• isn't sure how to feel about packing up and moving to l.a with the band at first since a lot of people from their clouded past are more likely to pop up in america, but they do anyway

• phase seven marks the beginning of murdoc and puck's actual relationship. it took puck a long time to come around to the fact that they actually liked him, flaws and all, but they had begun to realize that they aren't as young as they used to be, and that it's better to be truthful to their feelings and themself instead of hiding away. they already made that mistake once

• the media really starts to become a part of their life more than ever here. it has to do with speculation about murdoc and puck dating sure, but also with the introduction of moonflower and her cult. (puck finds her quite charming and enchanting, which makes murdoc incredibly grumpy. they change their tune about her once 2D is brainwashed, though)

• credited with writing new gold, oil, tarantula, baby queen, and pretty much every other song there is on the album. helps 2D with cracker island some too, but that was mainly him

• baby queen is actually a little about watching noodle grow up into who she is today. puck's always had a good bond with noodle ever since demon days, so baby queen is a very emotional song to them

• thinks the whole thing about 'murdoc's essence' is absolutely hilarious. it gives them a good laugh anytime they think about it. also, they won't admit it, but they find murdoc a little attractive in his cult robes

• gets really pissed when they finally figure out what's been going on with moonflower's cult and 2D. that's puck's best friend and literally the only person that's stuck with them through everything, so they are gonna fight to get him back. even if it's against an immortal cult

• in the silent running music video, which including cracker island is less of a music video and more of a retelling of that night, puck's sunglasses come off for the first time. ever.

• only murdoc sees it as he happens to be standing right across from them when it happens. the sight of it nearly breaks his concentration, and puck doesn't even realize they've fallen off until 2D is back to safety. they were that upset

• it's a big deal to murdoc about the glasses considering that puck has never let anyone see his eyes uncovered. not 2D, not noodle, not russel, and not even him during literal sex. they always kept their shades on or their eyes closed

• puck gets arrested with everyone, but murdoc of course, and ends up in the cracker island music video trying to start a fight with the police while noodle attempts to de-escalate the situation and calm them down

• when murdoc finally shows up at the hospital, he shares a soft kiss with a relieved puck off screen, publicly announcing their relationship and grabbing everyone's attention momentarily. the kiss calms puck down and marks the end of another era, leaving the band to go back to the l.a house and finally bring 2D with them once again

#sona shenanagins #puck #self insert #self sona #gorillaz sona #gorillaz self insert #sardonic rambles

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the-90s-music-colosseum · 11 months

Text

ROUND 1 OF THE TOURNAMENT HAS FINISHED!

tags to check out: #poll #propaganda #asks #recap #results

also please vote here for how you'd like the revival round to be conducted!

Round 1 (All Matches COMPLETE!)

Match 1 Homework v.s. Get a Grip

Match 2 Enema of the State v.s. OK Computer

Match 3 Ritual de lo Habitual v.s. In the Aeroplane over the Sea

Match 4 The Bends v.s. The Downward Spiral

Match 5 The Color and the Shape v.s. The Sound of Perseverance

Match 6 Foo Fighters v.s. Shake Your Money Maker

Match 7 Use Your Illusion v.s. Temple of the Dog

Match 8 October Rust v.s. Grace

Match 9 Live Through This v.s. Nevermind

Match 10 Little Earthquakes v.s. Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness

Match 11 Lean Into It v.s. Vulgar Display of Power

Match 12 Reload v.s. Houdini

Match 13 Stoner Witch v.s. Tidal

Match 14 Definitely Maybe v.s. Load

Match 15 Violator v.s. The Battle of Los Angeles

Match 16 Rage Against The Machine v.s. Gordon

Match 17 Vitalogy v.s. (What's the Story) Morning Glory

Match 18 Californication v.s. Dookie

Match 19 Weezer (Blue Album) v.s. Boggy Depot

Match 20 Different Class v.s. Bloody Kisses

Match 21 Niandra Lades and Usually just a T-shirt v.s. Dirt

Match 22 De la Soul is Dead v.s. Jagged Little Pill

Match 23 XO v.s. Smile from the Streets You Hold

Match 24 Painkiller v.s. Murder Ballads

Match 25 The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill v.s. The Division Bell

Match 26 Rust In Peace v.s. Superunknown

Match 27 Around the Fur v.s. Showbiz

Match 28 Parklife v.s. Seasons in the Abyss

Match 29 13 v.s. Pinkerton

Match 30 Automatic for the People v.s. Laid

Match 31 Nimrod v.s. Janet

Match 32 Badmotorfinger v.s. Radiator

Match 33 Check Your Head v.s. The Great Escape

Match 34 Coming Up v.s. Blood Sugar Sex Magik

Match 35 Metallica v.s. In Utero

Match 36 Millennium v.s. Ten

#90s album battle royale #tournament poll #90s music #bracket

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howlingday · 2 years

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Okey, primero buenas noches, entonces se me ocurrió esta idea estúpida donde jaune tiene una cola de diablillo o sucubo la que te guste mas.

el punto es que la cola de jaune tiene cierta autonomía, por lo que a veces puedes verla tomando un lapicero o marcador y escribir que glynda esta muy linda hoy o de repente saca una flor de quien sabe donde y se la da cuando esta pasa cerca de ellos (básicamente la cola muestra o expresa los sentimiento de jaune hasta cierto punto).

cómo crees que se desarrollaría la escena o la reaccion de algunos de los amigos de jaune.

--------------------------

Ok, first good night, then I came up with this stupid idea where jaune has an imp tail or succubus whichever you like.

the point is that jaune's tail has a certain autonomy, so sometimes you can see her taking a pen or marker and writing that glynda is very pretty today or suddenly she takes a flower from who knows where and gives it to her when she passes by of them (basically the tail shows or expresses the feelings of jaune to some extent).

how do you think the scene would unfold or the reaction of some of jaune's friends.

You know, I had a similar idea not too long ago, but decided not to post it because it would get flak. This is much better, though. Let's do this!

---------------------------------------------------

Jaune Arc was broken. That's what they always told him growing up.

Jaune was born an incubus, a demon of lust. His purpose in life was to drive mankind to temptation, or force them into such a role. However, he didn't want to do any of that. He doesn't know why, or how, but when he looked at humans, he felt... love.

He could feel the love they shared, the love they felt, the love they spoke and wrote and sang. Everything about love was beautiful to him.

However, it was that thought process that got him kicked out of the Infernal realm. The other demons mocked him, calling him worthless. Thus, Asmodeus, his Prince, game him an ultimatum; seduce one human into sin, or he would be banished forever.

And so, Jaune roamed across Remnant, using what little magic he had to conjure clothes. He had no need for food or water, but observing sin refilled his magic. He found a gang nearby and watched as they had attempted to rob a store until they were stopped by a hero. A real hero!

He followed her as she chased the gang leader to the roof where he climbed inside a large metal bird. That's when she arrived.

The most beautiful woman he ever saw. Emerald eyes, golden locks, and an ample form. Jaune's demon heart beat so fast, he didn't notice her shouting at him. It wasn't until the red girl from before slapped him.

This distraction was enough for the gang leader to launch a counter attack. Thankfully, the earthly angel used some kind of magic to hold his bird in place. He fled deeper into the bird, and a woman stepped out in his place.

An incantation circle formed before her and launches a fireball heading towards the beauty. He stood in it's way, using the last of his magic to block it. It tore through easily, but he held firm as it slammed into him. Hellfire scorched against his skin, burning away to his soul.

Hellfire burning his soul. Demon magic. And not just demon magic. There were Flames of Passion, used only by Succubi and Incubi. He fell to the ground clawing at his wound as the fire continued to burn. Soon, the pain became too much, and he passed out.

---------------------------------------------------

Jaune stirred awake in a white room. To his left was a window, the shatterd moon glow soothing his mind, and to his right was a white curtain, draw out for privacy. He leaned forward, groaning at his aching muscles.

Sadly, the flames burned away the front of his shirt, and his pants were partially burned away as well, though not enough to destroy them. He rubbed a hand over where the flame struck him. It was still warm, an after effect of demonic magic on a demon's body. Had he been human, especially with a magic as powerful as hers, his body would have no more than a pile of ash.

"Oh, good, you're awake." Jaune looked up to see the beautiful woman from before. His heart rumbled in his chest. "First, I'd like to thank you for saving my life. According to the doctors, your body is unnaturally resilient."

She stepped forward, and a man rounded the corner. Jaune thought there was something unusual about him, but he couldn't reveal his true nature. Not yet, anyways. Humans had a tendency to not trust someone after learning they're a demon.

"Good evening, my name is Ozpin," he looked to the woman, "and this is my associate, Glynda Goodwitch. We are both Professors at Beacon Academy for Huntsmen. Did you understand any of what I just said?"

"Huntsmen." Jaune repeated. "Like heroes?"

"In a way, yes." Ozpin nodded. "Our duty as huntsmen and huntresses is to seek out and destroy the creatures of Grimm to protect the innocent. Do you know what those are?"

"Monsters." Jaune answered. Grimm were annoying, as they attacked anything with complex emotions, like humans, faunus, and demons, but lack a soul to corrupt, making encounters with them range from annoying to life-threatening, though it would take a lot to kill a demon. "What's Beacon?"

"Beacon is where we train young individuals to become huntsmen and huntresses." Glynda answered, her voice like heavenly music to his ears. "Professor Ozpin is the headmaster of Beacon, and he wishes to enroll you."

"Enroll?" Jaune repeated. "Why?"

"We believe you can become a vital asset to our cause," Ozpin answered, "and in turn, we can train you to defend yourself. What say you?"

Jaune thought about it, looking down at his human hands. He noticed his palms were growing pinker. His magic was fading, and soon his true form would make itself known. Clenching his fist, he answered.

"No."

"No?" Ozpin repeated. "Is there a reason?"

Jaune looked to Glynda, then sighed. "Yes."

"I see." Ozpin turned to Glynda. "Professor Goodwitch, I will be staying a bit longer. I will return not long after you,hopefully with our friend in tow." Glynda nodded and left. Ozpin kept his eyes on her, then looked to Jaune. "It's safe now."

Pink flames danced from Jaune's hands across his skin as his skin became more and more pink. His clothes remained, tattered though they were, and he learned futher to allow his tail to breathe.

In his demonic form, he could see Ozpin's soul. Compared to all the other souls he came across, this one was the brightest, yet also the smallest. What little stains of corruption there were became naught more than dust on a light bulb. There, but invisible in a way.

"Ah, I thought as much." Ozpin chuckled. "Well, I still offer my invitation, though perhaps not as a student." Ozpin put a hand to his chin. "Or perhaps so." Ozpin snapped his fingers. "I've got it. If you wish, I'd like to hire you as a part-time student."

"Part-time?" Jaune quirked his head.

Ozpin nodded. "There are those too few students who join, but upon graduation, will not become a huntsman, but a militiaman. A reserve huntsman, if you will. Summoned to perform their duties, but only as guards or as policeman."

"And what do I get?" Jaune asked.

"Stronger." Ozpin said. "Strong enough to capture a maiden's eye, perhaps?" Ozpin chuckled, but Jaune's tail whipped about in joy. "So, will I expect you at Beacon?"

Jaune nodded.

#rwby #rwby au #jaune arc #incubus jaune au #ruby rose #roman torchwick #glynda goodwitch #cinder fall #ozpin

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