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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years

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I’ll Never Be The Moon

Pairings: Sokka x Reader

Summary: It’s hard to get someone to notice you when you’re competition is the moon but Aang’s always there to make you feel better.

Warnings: Talk of death, Aang says ass

Word Count: 2000

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Every night, there was always a little pocket of time when the camp was uncharacteristically silent and Sokka was sitting to the side, staring up at the night sky instead of cracking jokes and telling stories. It was your least favorite time of night because it was a constant reminder of what you’d never be. Katara, Aang, Toph, and you all usually talked amongst yourselves, used to this routine. Everyone knew why Sokka got like this, though, so nobody bothered him about it. Not even Toph. There were just some things that you didn't joke about and Yue’s death was one of them.

But on some nights, like tonight, it got to you. Every single night, you watched the man you’d been crazy about for so long stare up at the moon, yearning for a lost love. He looked up at the moon like it held all the love and beauty in the world. He looked at you like you had mud on your face.

You sighed and pushed yourself up from your seat by the fire amidst a story Toph was telling, “I’m getting warm. I’m gonna go get some air.” You excused yourself, ignoring the little comments of acknowledgement from the group.

The view was beautiful here in this little piece of the Earth Kingdom. Camp was set up on the edge of a large pristine lake that was surrounded by a thick luscious forest. The mountains on the opposite side of the lake were reflected perfectly on the still surface of the water through the moonlight.

Beauty always came back to the moon.

You spotted a fallen log on the edge of the shore and found a home on it, just far enough away from the group to be allowed to have your own thoughts. But from here, you could see Sokka sitting there on the ground, his arms wrapped around his knees as he gazed up at the celestial being, mesmerized by her beauty.

“I’ll never be the moon…” You mumbled to yourself sadly.

“Everything okay?” Aang’s voice asked from behind you. You spun around to see the boy walking up the path you took.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m alright.” You lied, tucking your knees in and resting your chin on it.

Aang walked around and moved to sit on the log beside you, “Are you sure? You said something about not being the moon?”

You chuckled sadly. That must have sounded either psychotic or pathetic to him. “It’s nothing. Just talking to myself.” Were you even trying to not sound crazy?

“About being the moon?” He questioned with a hint of humor in his tone. You didn’t know how to respond. All you’d done was make yourself sound dumb and you already felt inadequate tonight as it was. You weren’t exactly eager to continue that so you only responded with a shrug. “This is about Sokka, isn’t it?” Aang put the pieces together. But honestly, it wasn’t that hard to tell. Your crush wasn’t blatantly obvious or anything but if you paid attention, like Aang had found himself doing for the past few weeks, the signs weren’t difficult to see.

You looked over at Aang with pleading eyes, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” He crossed his fist over his heart with a confident smile. But when he saw that you were still down, he shrunk down to match your demeanor, “So I’m guessing it’s Yue, since you’re talking about the moon, right?”

You nodded, cheeks squished up against the palms of your hands as you leaned over onto them, “I never had a chance compared to her. She was a princess! And she was absolutely beautiful and kind and selfless. I’d never seen Sokka so entranced by someone. I'm just me. A girl from a poor family in a small Earth Kingdom village. Sure, I can fling rocks but it’s nothing compared to being a beautiful princess. And who would want the Earth when you could have the moon?”

“Y/N, you are beautiful, kind, selfless and more! And I really don’t think Sokka liked her because she was a princess. Yue wasn’t better than you; you two are just different people and that’s not a bad thing.” Aang comforted in his honest way.

Crickets began to chirp around the two of you in the clearing. “I don’t know… I just… I know I’ll never be her.”

“Why would you want to be her?” Aang asked, “I like you as you.”

“Because she has Sokka,” You started before you chuckled and a small smile appeared on your face despite your down mood, “But thank you, Aang.”

Aang leaned back on his arms against the log, “Well, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but she doesn’t really have Sokka anymore. I mean, she’s the moon. It’s kind of hard to date the moon.” He pointed out the obvious observation.

“That’s what I don’t understand! I know how bad that sounds. But… she’s gone.” You finally allowed yourself to say that dark little point (well, honestly, it was a pretty big point). Gosh, why did you feel like such a monster for saying that? “I know how terrible that sounds but when it comes down to it, Yue is literally the moon now. They can’t be together unless Sokka pulls some stupid hero stunt and gets himself blasted into the spirit world too but that seems pretty unlikely. I completely understand that her dying doesn’t take away his feelings for her or the hurt that came with losing her but it just hurts. It hurts me to see him hurting but it also hurts me to see him pining for a girl he fell in love with after three days when I can’t get him to give me a second glance.”

Your gaze fell on where the moon was reflecting in ripples on the water and followed its light back up to its large celestial source with a small sigh, “Even in death she’s beautiful. No wonder he’ll always love her.”

Aang stood up with a sense of finality, “No,” He crossed his arms before grabbing your hand and forcing you to stand up, “I won’t allow this. You don’t get to think you’re worth less than someone else just because she was a princess or part moon spirit. Come here and look in the water.” He led you to the shore and leaned over the water with you until you saw both of your reflections. “Now what do you see?”

Your face twisted as you made eye contact with your reflection, “Me? You? Us?” You guessed, not sure what he was getting at.

“No, I want you to look at you and tell me what you see.” Aang insisted, pointing at your reflection.

This time, you really tried to see what Aang wanted you to see. Though the reflection was dark from the limited light, you could still make out enough of your image. You just looked like you. Your hair was actually in place for once, which you attributed to not flying on Appa for the last few hours. You did have a smudge of ash on your cheek that you must have accidentally swiped across your face after moving a burning piece of wood back into the fire pit earlier. A small splice at the tail of your eyebrow was healing up but still visible, a "trophy", as Toph called it, after a run in with some Fire Nation soldiers the other day. You wore a green top that covered your shoulders and crossed around the front, held together with a tan tie. The top of your dark brown pants were visible but those looked a little ragged too. The wrappings that started around your thumb and went around your forearms, up to your elbows were getting dirty as well, more tan than off white now. Coming from the outer villages that were run by Earth Kingdom "soldiers", if you could even call them that after all the extortion, it wasn't exactly like you joined the group with super nice clothing to begin with.

"I see a girl with a busted eyebrow, a dirty face, and clothes that she needs to wash tomorrow." You huffed a little, beginning to pull away before Aang pushed you back to stay where you were.

You rolled your eyes before he started talking, "I see someone who fights for what she believes in, someone who didn't come from much but is going to help change the world. Someone that doesn't need to be a princess to be awesome or beautiful. Sure, you got a little scuffed up and you got ash on your face but who cares? I know Sokka sure doesn't. Besides, Sokka needs to do his laundry tomorrow too… he’s starting to smell kind of bad." You snorted as you stifled a laugh. Aang wasn’t necessarily wrong though.

Before he continued, he looked over your shoulder to make sure you two were still alone. When he ensured it was still just the two of you in ear shot, he leaned in close, putting his arm around your shoulders and whispered, "And between you and me, Sokka was practically drooling over you when you took out those Fire Nation soldiers the other day. He thinks the badass thing you've got going on is super attractive."

You turned your head to him with a skeptical look on your face, unsure if he was just saying that to make you feel better but when you thought about it, you didn't think you'd ever actually heard Aang lie before. That probably meant he wasn't lying now, though. "Really?"

Aang nodded, "Yeah, but don't tell him I told you. He'll kill me."

You couldn't help but smile at your friend. All he ever did was try and help people, even it was just dumb stuff like making a friend feel better about a boy. "Thank you." You reached over and pulled him into a side hug.

When you pulled away, you looked back over to camp to see that Sokka had returned from his nightly mourn. He now sat on top of his sleeping bag, a stick in his hand, as if he'd been poking the fire, but instead of doing that, he was actually looking at you. It was only for a brief moment that your E/C eyes locked with his brilliant blue ones because he quickly looked down at fire, a tint of pink rising in his cheeks.

"Told you," Aang hummed, "He's been looking over at you for the last few minutes."

A small glimmer of hope rose up in your chest but it felt tainted somehow, "Maybe he just zoned out…" Defeat already laced your voice, "I mean, if he likes me, why doesn't he say anything? He's never been exactly subtle with girls he's liked in the past."

Aang stood up and walked around the log to the other side of you, "I think he just feels conflicted. A part of him still loves Yue even though he knows he can't have her, but he really likes you too." He put a hand on your shoulder, "I'm gonna head back to camp. But just give him a little more time, okay? I have a feeling that things are actually going to work out between you guys and my feelings are almost always right." He gave you a wink with childish confidence.

Your gaze followed Aang as he jogged back to the camp, ready to follow suit, figuring the gang would start pestering you about being moody if you didn't return soon. Though you started watching Aang, you couldn't help but allow your eyes to flick over to Sokka again, just out of curiosity (okay, fine, maybe just because you really liked to look at him). Sokka's bright blue eyes were already trained on your firm when you glanced over but this time, instead of pretending to be burning a stick, he made a big show of reaching behind him to grab his boomerang, trying just a little too hard to look 'natural (if you could call it that). A warm smile crept up on your face and you giggled to yourself as you finally stood up from the log to make your way back to camp. Maybe Aang's feeling could be right after all.

#sokka #sokka x reader #sokka imagine #sokka blurb #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #I'll never be the moon

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mystic-kitten-writer · 4 years

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Eden [M] ︳Prologue

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Genre: Smut with plot; romance, angst and some fluff to unfold.

Rating: NSFW-ish

Warning: Mild dirty talking, mild dry humping, mild degradation, and inappropriate touching.

Words: 5300+

Notes: Happy valentine’s everyone~! I hope you had a fantastic day/evening, and here is a lil’ present for you all. It’s the prologue of ‘Eden’, and hopefully you guys get a taste of this new, upcoming, series.

Please note, updates are going to be slow. At the moment, ‘Limerence’ is my main series (Greek Mythology is my side project). But once Limerence is done, Eden will be my main focus! Tags aren’t working (why am I not surprised) - but hopefully that fixes itself soon and appears in people’s feed.

Thank you for reading, and please don’t be shy to leave a like or comment, take care~!

Masterlist ︳01

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

It seems he managed to wander into a garden, and he was starving for a taste of that forbidden fruit. And now that he got a taste, he was not going to let go. His fingertips were engraved with sin, burning her skin with every touch, chin dripping of her sweet juices. “Fuck.” He grunted under his breath because he knew – this was more than just a quick taste.

Savory

(flower); spice, interested.

“Ah, you’re a lifesaver!” Izuku Midoriya declared, face flushed as his head bounced up and down. His dark green hair flew everywhere, a pretty contrast from his pink freckled cheeks. He was the living definition of ‘rookie’ – filled with an unreasonable amount of energy and enthusiasm. You’re surprised you didn’t see his face plastered beside the word in every dictionary around the world.

But it was that same energy, desire to be a hero, that had your lips curving upwards, a kittenish smile painting your rose-coloured lips. How could you not shoot him one of your infamous smiles, brushing back your hair as you mused. He’s a ball of motivation and joy – a real hero in the works.

“If Recovery Girl finds out I healed you despite her orders, she’ll have my head,” you advised with a click of your tongue, truth lingering in your statement. After showing up to work slightly hungover – courtesy of Midnight’s refusal to accept ‘no’ for an answer for bar-hopping – the last thing you wanted was to be caught healing Midoriya.

As if he could read your mind, the green-haired boy moaned under his breath.

You wiped the last bit of ointment onto his skin, wrapping his wounds, spotting the way his shoulders slumped for a moment – remorse painting his face. But just like that, he puffed out his chest, a sudden resolve overcoming him.

“I’m sorry. But I can’t let All Might down – I need to push myself-”

“Keep pushing yourself, and you won’t have any of ‘yourself’ left to be a hero.” You interjected, causing Midoriya’s mouth to shut close, taking in the weight of your words. He stared at you with those large eyes of his, watching your fingers ease their way off his bruised limbs, the bandages new and tightly wrapped.

“Recovery Girl is going to whip All Might’s ass if she finds out you were hurt - again.” You spoke honestly, causing the pink tint of his cheeks to turn into a darker hue. His freckles almost blended in with the flush, nodding his head furiously at your in-direct warning.

It was at times hard to believe that this naïve, well-natured boy was Katsuki Bakugo`s supposed ‘rival.’ It was like comparing apples and oranges – this year’s students were something else. Your hands fell over your lap, leaning into Midoriya, you gaze meeting his.

One for all…

“Come on, let’s get going before we get caught. I’ll wrap up a few herbs for your mom to smash up. Make sure you rub it into your skin after your bath. It should numb the pain and stop the bruising and swelling.” You spoke, shooting him another cheeky smile, a weak attempt to wipe that look off his face.

With a tired sigh, you pushed yourself off your seat, the sound of your black heels clicking against the white tiles of your office, filling the quietness. It was as you strolled around, eyes scanning the dozens of tiny planters that hung along the walls, you realized how late it has gotten.

The sun was setting; the campus eerily quiet as most of the students were already home. Shit – and you still have to make dinner. Your index finger fell over your pouting lips; eyes eagerly searching for that one particular pot-

“Ah- there it is.” You hummed pleasantly, reaching forward. The tan planter fell over your desk with a soft thud, your fingers dancing over the dirt until you felt it.

The roots were starting to stretch, the shoot wiggling its way from the soil, pushing and shoving the dirt painfully slow before breaking the surface. “Come on, baby.” You muttered softly, focusing on the energy of the plant. And you swore, because you could feel the annoyance of the plant, undoubtedly grumbling a faint ‘fuck you, you forgot to water me last night,’ before spouting into a perfectly formed leaf.

“Hero alias; Eden. Real name; Y/N. Quirk; Bioterra – can take any seed or spore and manipulate them in movement or growth…” Midoriya muffled under his breath. You let out an airy laugh hearing Midoryia mumbling to himself, clipping the newly formed seed leaves carefully, before thanking the plant.

You prefer not to piss off the seedling. Afterall – this little babe has saved your ass far too many times to count.

Looking over your shoulder to Midoriya, you tossed the last of the herbs into a cute little baggy. “If you keep mumbling under your breath like that, you’ll end up just scaring all the villains away.” you teased, and Midoriya scratched his head.

“I never saw your quirk before – it’s really pretty!” He gushed, and it was then you realized that the boy was no longer patiently sitting on the examination table, but eagerly hovering over your study with a pen and book in hand. Where and when did he even-

“Word of caution, Midoriya, while I may be the sidekick of Recovery Girl – don’t think for a second that all I can do is heal. I can grow some pretty toxic things. Get too close, and you might cease to exist.” You warned wickedly, wiggling your brows at him. But rather than deterring the curious boy, it seemed to have done the opposite.

His mouth widened, lips racing, “If that’s the case, does that mean you’re immune to all poisons or toxins created by plants? Does that mean no plants can cause an effect on you, whether its good or bad? Does that mean you can’t heal yourself with your medicine-”

“Midoriya. Just because you’re my favourite doesn’t mean I won’t force-feed you some valerian root for some quiet.” Midoriya’s face stoned at your threat, instantly bowing up and down. “S-sorry-” Midoriya began to stutter before a sultry singing cut him off.

“You sure you aren’t a sadist, a villain?”

Both of you shifted your attention to the entrance, eager to find the owner of that vibrating tone.

“Good evening, Midnight.” You spoke, smiling radiantly to your best friend, as your arms fell over the shy Midoriya. His green eyes widened, studying the pro-hero up and down in interest – no doubt he was thinking about the rated 18+ hero’s quirk. And given a chance, he would ask her thousands of questions like he has done to you since the start of the school year.

The stunning deep hue of purple against her red mask brought out the teasing glimmer in her eyes. Midnight cocked her head to the side, arms crossing over her chest, emphasizing her ample bust as she stepped into the room.

“You’re not doing some unauthorized healing, are you?” Midnight pestered, cocking an eyebrow as she eyed the fresh bandages decorating Midoriya’s fingers. In a flash, your hands squeezed Midoriya’s shoulders, shaking your head with a falsely sweet smile on your lips.

“Of course, not – I’m just showing Midoriya here, my quirk! It’s getting late; we can talk more tomorrow.” Your grip loosened, shoving the boy forward. While Midoriya was undoubtedly naïve, he wasn’t dumb. He quickly got the hint, stepping forward before waving at the both of you, “Thank you for demonstrating your quirk, see you tomorrow!”

He dashed away from the voluptuous dominatrix, the sound of his heavy feet running down the empty hallways of UA slowly fading the further he ran. The moment he was out of earshot, Midnight twirled her whip, purring.

“Lying to a teacher, how naughty of you.” Midnight snickered, tapping her chin as she inched her way forward. Her skin-tight costume only seemed to accentuate her sex appeal, and you rolled your eyes.

“What are you going to do, spank me?” you challenged with your tongue sticking out. Your hands made haste with sweeping up the dirt that littered your counter, giving your seedling a lil’ treat for working so hard today.

Midnight laughed obnoxiously loud, “You’ll enjoy that too much, you kinky bitch.”

“And that, I won’t deny.” You giggled back, already knowing Midnight was snooping around your office, sniffing all the flowers that were blooming. She, in particular, loved the darker hued flowers, saying it matched her aesthetic.

Placing the planter back into its spot, you turned on your heel, reaching for your purse that you left on the floor. “What are you doing here so late, anywho?” You pondered, swinging the strap over your shoulder, checking for your house keys and wallet.

Midnight sighed dramatically, taking another whiff of the roses, “Meetings. I could use a drink, girl.”

“Well, count me out, I’m starving, and it’s late.” You stated, shutting the window of your office, and locking it. It was officially dark outside, the streetlights looking like twinkling stars. Time moves faster when you’re having fun.

“Oh, come on! You’re young and sexy, go out. Get drunk – better yet, find yourself a hot daddy.” Midnight argued, waltzing over to your side in a flash, tone rising with passion. “Just because you work for UA doesn’t mean you can’t live a little. You’re starting to turn into your grandmother – work, work, work.”

You pouted, “Please don’t compare me to my grandmother.”

Don’t get it wrong; you loved and respected your grandmother – Recovery Girl.

She was the first hero of the family, the family pride. Hell – she was the reason why you even wanted to become a hero. She used to take you to her workplace when you a mere toddler, showing you off to all her co-workers, bragging how you’re going to be the next big thing. She was the definition of a proud grandmother.

That’s why you worked your ass off, becoming the second hero in the family – and next-in-line to become UA’s healer once the old lady decides to retire.

“Come on, one drink? Maybe I can hook you up with some of my friends. They know how to treat a woman. Want a submissive, a dom, ou- maybe a switch?” Midnight insisted and at that point, you huffed loudly. You saw the stars in her eyes the more she talked about the possibility of hooking you up with one of her friends. This woman-

Linking arms with the sex addict of a friend you had, you shut your office door behind the both of you, walking through the deserted hallways. The hallways of UA was dead, all the classroom doors locked, blinds lowered so only the poorly functioning lights of the school could guide you out of this prison.

“Don’t ignore me! I have yet to see you with someone. What do you want? What are you looking for, girl?” Midnight groused under her breath.

What do you want…?

Your mouth opened, a sly smirk on your face. “You know what I want? I want a fuck buddy, no feelings. Just good, hot, rough sex.”

“And I know a friend who can do just that!” Midnight blurted, but you merely shook your head.

“I already have someone.”

Midnight’s eyes widen, stopping abruptly in the dimly light hallway. “You have someone? Excuse me, who is this person and since when? You haven’t gotten laid in god knows how long, and it shows.”

You grinned mischievously, leaning into her. Midnight was on her tippy-toes, eyes and ears eagerly waiting for the spicy gossip. Her hands clasped together, leather whip firmly caught in between her tight grasp. If only she knew.

“They’re the best. Their name is ‘dildo,’ and they’re always ready to get down whenever I need them.” You whispered.

The moment Midnight realized what you were saying, the look of utter annoyance was clear as day.

“You’re fucking ridiculous, Eden.” Midnight fumed, throwing her arms up in defeat as she stormed forward. You laughed from behind her, watching the way she cursed under her breath, her whip swinging back and forth. To be fair, you’re surprised she didn’t use it on you.

“You love me, Midnight!” You screamed from behind her, and she merely shot you a glare over her shoulder, lips pressed together, trying to hold back a grin. “If you were my toy, I would’ve beaten your ass till it’s purple and blue.”

You shoot her a kiss, playfully slapping your own ass as she raged. “I can’t wait till you find someone. And I hope they put you in your damn place. Fuck you till you can’t walk.”

“That’s the goal!” You chirped, earning another hiss from the queen of lust, herself.

The cold breeze that funnelled its way through the mutedly lit alleyway in which you walked was borderline painful. Your dress suddenly seemed far too short for the summer weather, your arms wrapping around yourself as you grumbled. The temperature seemed to drop in a matter of minutes – the twenty-minute walk from the school to home seemed like a journey.

It was unreasonably dark, and the brisk air added an uncomfortable feeling in your gut. Not even the flicking neon signs that littered the city seemed to lift the mood – the atmosphere dark and grungy. The faster you get home, the better.

Your fingers dug into your purse strap, tugging it closer to your body as your UA lanyard bounced off your chest. The bobbing of your identification card matched your heartbeat at this point, your stomach screaming to get some food inside of it.

Pace hast, you turned the corner abruptly -“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Four men, of medium build, laughing obnoxiously loud and recking of alcohol crowded the already narrow alleyway. Their words were heavily slurred, arms wrapped around each other as they struggled to walk forward. Their clothing was old and dirty, and your nose scrunched up – god even the smell of shitty alcohol smelt better than whatever odour they were emitting.

Your footsteps eased, cautiously walking behind them.

They were moving forward, slowly, but they were moving. The smart thing to do would be to walk back and take a long way home - but that means it’ll take longer for you to cook dinner, take a hot bath, and have a steamy session with your lovely date called ‘dildo.’

You have the patience for neither.

With a frustrated huff, you brushed your hair back, letting your gaze fall back onto the ground. Come on, it was a Monday night, and you just wanted to get home. Was that too much to ask?

Trying to lessen the sound of your heels against the broken concrete, your steps were sluggish. If someone were to be watching behind you, they would’ve thought you didn’t know how to walk in heels. So fucking stupid, these dumb, drunk, idiots-

“Heeeey maaaan, come over hereeee. We just wanna taaaalk.” A man shouted, and you felt your blood freeze. Your head snapped upwards, hearing the men starting to speak brasher, the slurring of their speech clear.

Was he talking to you?

No, they couldn’t be.

Their backs were still facing you, staggering back and forth as the men seemed to puff in demeanour. Your eyes narrowed, observing one of the men walking hastily, his hands reaching for his back pocket. If he wasn’t talking to you, then that can only mean – he was trying to catch up to someone.

“Don’t ignore meee, you skinny shit. Come hereee before I add more scaars.”

Not caring anymore if you made noise, your pace quicken, swaying side to side to catch a glimpse of who this man could be chasing. They can’t honestly be planning on mugging someone; they can barely walk, let alone mug someone. A tired sigh escaped your lips – time to play the hero.

Your fingers trailed into your purse, grabbing rose seeds, feeling the vines starting to rise over your fingers-

Heat.

The sound of your plants whimpering, retreating into your purse as blue flames flooded your vision had your eyes widening, a hostile shiver running up your spine.

Ashes floated into the clear night sky, the smell of burnt flesh taking over the stench of alcohol as you instinctively pressed your body against the brick walls, seeking any form of coolness. You could feel the hot air rush past your ears, hair flipping for a split moment. Sweat beaded down your forehead – these flames…

They were explosive.

Uncontrolled.

Pure rage.

But most importantly - absolutely stunning.

Your long nails dug into the brick wall, shamelessly staring at the light show in front of you rather than saving the other three men. The diverse hues of blue, clashing and mixing like a wild dance. Did that dirty, drunk man unleash this power, such a beauty?

You quickly realized how wrong you were.

The ash that was floating in the sky, the smell of rotting flesh – that was him.

“You’re fucking nuts, man! You killed him – you burnt him alive!” The men screamed, their speech no longer slurred, bringing you back to the reality of the situation. And as the realization of the sight in front of you unfolded, you found yourself swallowing.

The low-slung chuckle that caught your attention, a snicker that carried in the cold breeze, had your skin rising and lips parting.

“Well, aren’t you an observant one. It seems I did…wanna be next?” a man spoke, voice raspy, contemptuous in tone.

You pressed yourself off the brick wall, desperate to seek the man who caused the flips in your stomach. His voice alone was eargasmic, and when you stumbled back, heels clicking loudly, you realized you not only caught the attention of the three drunk men but the man with blue flames, as well.

The azure embers that lingered in the cold air reflected the streetlights, highlighting a tall, lean man at the end of the shady alleyway. The way his thin lips curved upwards, a sinister smirk emerging as he licked his lips in delight.

His light skin contrasted against the seared scars that littered his face and neck, staples piercing his flesh in a sadistic fashion. But yet, in some messed up way – the look suited him. The darkness of night adding an air of mystic and dangerous enchantment around him.

“Well…hello there, doll.” He mused, tilting his head to the side, black hair falling over his eyes. You could feel it, the way his gaze trailed up and down your body, a wild look flashing – appreciating what his eyes were settling upon. You swallowed, a needy flush overcoming your skin, because fuck.

He was sexy – the type of man, your parents, warned you about. The type of guy, your friends, told you not to associate with because all he was going to do was fuck and dip. You couldn’t strip your gaze away from the man, and he seemed to notice. He let out a small snicker, raising a brow as you gawked shamelessly.

“Y-you’re a hero from UA! Save us, stop him, arrest him. He killed our friend-” The three men shouted, running towards you with desperation in their eyes. It was their loud and unwanted voices that snapped you out of it.

What were you doing?

Here you are, blatantly checking out some stranger – a stranger with an overpowered quirk who just murdered a man. But the enigmatic stranger continued to stare with a look of amusement, even daring to take a step closer.

“A hero? Oh, this is becoming a lot more work than I wanted.” he snuffled under his breath, eyes half-lidded. The men ignored the man’s commentary, staring at you with annoyance.

“Do something, you useless women! We don’t pay our taxes for you to look pretty.” One of them shouted, their spit striking your face. Oh - hell no.

“As if you guys even pay your fucking taxes. Maybe if you didn’t get piss drunk and try to mug the man, your friend would be alive.” You shouted heatedly, stepping forward and shoving the man back. He was getting far too close for comfort – he needs to learn something about personal space.

The man’s eyes widen, stumbling back a few steps before narrowing his gaze. “This damn psycho killed someone!”

“He was defending himself against you morons.” You fumed, hands balling into fists. You may be a hero, but you weren’t forgiving. That was the problem nowadays; people could not take responsibility for their damn actions. Starting fights, getting their asses kicked, and then crying wolf. And of course, you had all these ‘heroes,’ eagerly picking up the pieces of their messes to fuel their damn ego.

“If you’re smart, you’ll leave before I report this whole incident. And I can guarantee it’ll be you three going to jail.”

“You can’t report shit if you’re dead.” The man sneered before raising his hand. There in his grasp was a small dagger, the moonlight bouncing off the thin blade. So enraged by this man’s ignorance, you failed to notice the way his hand lingered into his jacket pocket.

You could feel the blood drain from your face, impulsively cowering away from the blade. He caught you out, and you were surely going to pay now, shit-

That was when you spotted it, the dash of black, a pretty hand reaching for the idiotic drunk. The manic smile that painted the blue flamed stranger’s face, a lust-filled look as his hand outstretched over the man.

His long boney fingers wrapped around the side of his head, clawing into the skin of his face. You saw the terror etched into the drunken man – eyes shifting to look at your unexpected hero — the last thing he would ever see.

“Burn.” The stranger whistled, and that was when you felt the overwhelming heat once again.

An explosion of blue fumes flared before you, and the man who held the knife didn’t get a chance even to scream – incinerated in seconds. There wasn’t an ounce of control or restraint in this man’s flames, just pure and utter chaos. Smoke fluttered from the man’s skin, eyes crazed as he grinned, the flames ceased in intensity.

Ashes and embers erupted into the air, the sound of the blade hitting the ground echoing between the brick walls. The stranger let his hand drop to his side, before tilting his head to your direction. That was when you spotted it — one of the untouched men was reaching for the burnt knife that laid on the ground.

“Oh no, you don’t-” You hissed, the tipsy man staring up at you in surprise. But his resolve was set in stone, eager to get revenge for his now two dead buddies. The hot blade twisted in his hand, holding it tight as he swung down.

He wasn’t aiming for you at all – he was trying to injury your anti-hero.

You lunged forward, chest clashing with your newly developed crush, arms reaching around his neck. The inebriated man swung, and right before the blade could come in contact with your dark hero, your hands tightly gripped the man’s wrist, nails digging into his skin.

“Let. Go.” You threatened, teeth clenching as you tried to hold him back.

“Dude, the fuck are you doing? They’re heroes – they’ll kill us with their damn quirks. Run.” The only reasonable man of the two shouted, and that was all it took. The weapon slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor, and your grasp loosened.

He whipped his hands from your touch, spitting on the ground where you stood as he ran down the alleyway with his only remaining friend. “Let’s get out of here.” They slurred, the sound of their shoes drumming against the concrete – turning the corner and out of sight.

A drained gasp escaped you, arms going limp as your forehead rested against the man who saved your ass. Holy fuck – talk about a giant cluster fuck. The air around you smelt like death and fire, sparks spreading across the block, courtesy of the night breeze.

How are you going to explain this? All the paperwork and details – you really outdid yourself tonight, didn’t you?

“Hmm…he wasn’t lying; you’re a ‘hero’ from UA.” A dark voice droned into your ear. His hot breath tickled your neck, skin tingling in bliss, and your head shot upwards. That’s when you took in how utterly striking the man; you currently had your arms wrapped around, was.

His eyes were magnetic, a turquoise so damn vibrant and clear your mouth dropped.

Being as up close as you were, you could appreciate the silver piercings that decorated his nose and ears — an unpredicted attractive mix with his purple and red coloured scars. Overall, his features were soft, despite his attitude and whisky-like voice, although his jaw could probably cut diamonds with how damn sharp it was.

Damn, he was attractive, and you couldn’t help but feel your breath getting heavy the further you gawked. Midnight was right – you were sex-starved, and the way you studied this man up and down like a damn snack, was the proof.

His lips curved upwards to a smile that even the devil himself would swoon, noticing how your eyes scanned him with longing. Your fingers brushed his long black locks by accident, and you could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“Do all UA heroes dress like this? Short dresses, low necklines?” The man chuckled, his fingers playing with the lanyard that was perfectly nestled between your breasts. Your cheeks flared, feeling his calloused fingers against your cleavage. His touch was far from tender, purposely letting the ID roll between his fingers, conveniently pulling your neckline further down your torso.

And the worst part was you weren’t mad at his erotic touch as much as the comment, nipples hardening at the thought of this going further.

“I beg your pardon?” You retorted, and the stranger merely laughed, licking his lips as he leaned closer to your face.

“Oh, you can beg all you want, doll.”

Fuck, this man knows what he’s doing. You snickered under your breath, untangling your arms away from his shoulders, pulling the lanyard that he played with away. “Thank you for saving my ass back there.”

He smirked, running his hands messily through his hair before stepping forward. Your bottom lip rolled between your teeth, eyes fluttering as you watched the way the man before you dominated. He was rolling his shoulders back, each step of his lazy in demeanour, eyeing you like how a predator stalks its prey.

“You come here often? Walk down these sketchy alleyways for fun.”

“I’m kind of a hero, and unfortunately, walking in creepy alleyways is in the job description.”

“Is eye-fucking people also included in that job description?”

“Nope, that’s something I do on my own time.” You grinned, earning a handsome one back. He licked his lips, hands falling into his pants pockets as he stepped closer. You didn’t even realize the little dance that was happening.

Both of you, stepping closer and father between words, walking in circles as you bantered pointlessly. The fact that this man killed two people was lost to the wind (literally) – you were a hero, sure, but you never said that you were good at it.

“Personal time…that means you’re on your way home. Good to know.”

“Plan on stalking?”

He merely shrugged his shoulders, eyes falling back to your breasts without a care in the world. “Mm…maybe. Y/N – pro hero, Eden.” He muttered under his breath. This time you didn’t bother stopping him, the way he outstretched his hand, jerking on the ID card and drawing you closer to his body.

Both of your eyes were glossed over, a heat building between your damn legs as he studied every curve in the dress you wore. It wasn’t even skimpy or short, but the way his eyes lingered – you would’ve thought you were wearing nothing but lingerie if you didn’t know better.

“Next time, wear something shorter.”

“Excuse me?” you blurted, and he merely laughed, letting go of the makeshift leash. But now that you were close, he seemed to take advantage. His hands fell over your hips, drawing you up against his body, his scared skin brushing against your jaw.

“You see, doll, boobs are great and all, but that ass you got? I much rather have my hands on that.” He growled into your ear, and you couldn’t stop your small moan. Your hands fell over his shoulders, and you couldn’t even wrap your head around the fact that his hands were running up and down your thighs, shoving you backwards.

Your back hit the wall roughly, him growling into your ear as he licked down your neck with a low grunt. “F-Fuck, what’s your name?” You blurted, and you could hear him chuckle breathlessly, listening to your gasping sighs.

“Dabi – that’s the name that you’re going to be screaming.” He grunted, his hips thrusting into yours. You could feel his arousal, hard and heavy, rubbing perfectly against your parted legs. Your head tossed back, another mewl escaping your lips as his fingers dug into your thighs, rubbing his hardening cock against your wet heat.

“Fuck, you’re nasty, a perfect lil’ slut for me, right doll?”

His words had you purring.

“Dabi-” you gasped, and the flashing lights of blue and red caught your attention. The sounds of sirens were clear in the dead of night, and they were rapidly approaching. A pout formed on your lips, eyes shutting close for a moment as you swore because the wet mess between your legs was far more concerning.

You blew frustratingly; you’ve got to be fucking kidding-

“Told you I’d have you begging.” Dabi chuckled, thrusting his dick perfectly against your sopping panties one last time, before pulling back. He licked his lips, and you couldn’t help but whine under your breath, seeing that bulge in between his legs – something you so desperately wanted your mouth over.

“See you soon, Y/N, my delicious lil’ fruit.” He teased, before stuffing his hands back into his pants and running off.

Your face was flushed, your breasts practically falling out of your dress, your thighs and ass on full display. You watched as Dabi managed to mix into the darkness as if he wasn’t even here a minute ago, dry humping you against the wall.

“Over here- that’s where people reported the noise.” A few voices bellowed, and in a flash, you pulled down your dress, running back down the same alleyway you came from. Here you were, speedily walking down the very route you should’ve taken to begin with.

If you had taken this path from the start, you would’ve been already home, dinner cooked, and probably in bed.

But you couldn’t stop the cheeky smirk on your face, your hands falling over your neck, where his lips practically ravished. You were sure there were going to be some marks, although faint, and that thought made you wetter.

It seems like Mr. Dildo found himself a new name for tonight – Dabi.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

No Mister

@morganofthecoves

Prompts for Plus Sized Reader x Thorin/Dwalin –

205 “You were always beside me.”

and 382 “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

Song - Head Above Water - Avril Lavigne

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shesakillerkween

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

Special thanks to deepestfirefun for helping me with the idea for the plot. :D

…

“Fuck you, I’m keeping the ring.” You said slamming the back door on your car that had the trunk and back seat packed with all your things. Two months you had been engaged and all of three days he had been ‘home’, a farce of the term as it was his house and his furniture and his family that insisted your place was too small. Hard to be too small for someone who isn’t there. If you weren’t his priority he damn sure would have trouble finding you to grovel his way back to your good graces for a second chance to save face after the publicly aired proposal on his news show.

Off you drove and it seemed you had driven for hours. Directions really seemed to come easily to you, of course with your job of designing some of the best buildings you had to know your way around a map and it seemed every line seemed to bend and warp as you somehow appeared in an endless stretch of green.

A child to your eyes was walking along the side of the road and open mouthed you pulled up along side the barefoot Capri and jacket donning child off wandering alone. To a crawl you slowed and rolled down your window only to see the child morph into a tall old man in a grey cloak and hat with a stick he pointed right at you. That was it, all you remembered until you sat up from a tiny couch your legs had been dangling off of and your eyes lowered to look over your black jeans you hadn’t packed, Not he most flattering of cuts for your size but nice and thick to fight off the chill in the winter air from your exes place up north, also explaining the fur lined boots and thick sweater muffling anything but the widest part of your bust hiding your ample supply of curves. “Ok, I know I’m not that big,” you muttered climbing to your feet turning in a circle in the oddly round home lit by firelight.

Muttered comments were uttered in the kitchen two halls over that drew you to find the owner of the house whose eyes flinched wider a moment seeing his company was awake. “Hi.”

“Hello,” he replied.

“Um, I’m not one to party but the only other time I felt like this was when I got black out drunk when I was in uni. I don’t know how to ask this without being rude but I don’t know who you are or where I am. Could you help me?”

A huff was given and he muttered, “Gandalf...” hastily he wet his lips and poured a second mug of tea he slid your way, “Some nice tea to calm you down. A wizard named Gandalf brought you here a few hours ago. Asked me to look after you.”

“Two things, I don’t know any wizards and I don’t know anyone named gan-, wait, old guy with a grey outfit?” Bilbo nodded as you gasped, “That ass! I saw him on the side of the roads and I stopped to try and help him and he must have hit me with his stick! Oh no, he has all my things...I’ve been robbed!” Your hands covered your face as tears began to pool into your eyes and he rounded the counter to say, “No, no, no. Don’t cry, please don’t cry! Your things are in the back room, and your wagon and mule are outside.”

That had your hands lowering and you asked, “My what?” With a hint of irritation in your voice that turned to a growl realizing your car was gone and he had left you with a wagon and an albeit adorable but not yours mule with all your things inside twin trunks making you huff and have to lie down at your looming migraine as you explained everything to the confused Hobbit amply named Bilbo Baggins who agreed to help you adjust until things could be righted for you again.

“Mahal help me…” Frozen in place the far from on time Prince lost beyond belief stared at the sweater clad near pouting Dwarf in front of him. Not a near tears or tantrum pout but one of focus while eyeing items in the basket tucked in the crook of their arm compared to the list they had. Beardless and clearly young, near to the age of his Nephews with some Hobbit mixed in by the slender fingers on the shapely picture of perfection with HAIR COLOR waves tucked up in a bun on top of their head in a far from secure clip. The shade on the hair lightening from the roots matching the tapering sideburns lining up perfectly to shape their face he wanted nothing more than to reach out and cup tenderly. Hours he could have stood there counting the ways he would braid their hair and designing each gem and bead they would add to each carefully plaited section of those glimmering strands his mind scrambled to compare the shade of perfectly.

Trotting forward Thorin hastened to catch up with the only Dwarf in sight asking lowly, “You wouldn’t happen to know where a Baggins lives?”

All at once a pair of near glowing EYE COLOR eyes landed on his face and the stunning creature gave a curious smirk. That devilish tick of the corner of their mouth inching up as a hum of an alto voice came out, perfecting the mental image of this stranger over an out of place baritone one that would too highly contrast the possibly Hobbitish side to this living mystery. “I’m sorry, I got Baggins, if you’re looking for Bilbo Baggins the house is up this way.”

Thorin nodded and stepped with them after his detailed memorization of the face accented with thick brows clearly shaped to perfect its features framing those heavenly eyes just right. “Thank you. Pardon me, I am Thorin, son of Thrain of the line of Durin the Deathless.”

“Ah,” shifting the basket their hand outstretched lowering his gaze to the hand his now ached to melt around, slender fingers with a few scars and mild calluses on a couple knuckles fading from a dropped trade that had brought them about. “YOUR NAME, LAST NAME.” Soft and supple the fingers and palm eased almost sinfully around his hand, usually a sign of bargaining or great intimacy between lovers Dwarves rarely trade unless to spare insult to one of another race. A tempting shift of a thumb around the side of his wrist almost had the Dwarf shivering in delight for the moment their eyes were locked. “Sorry, no great ancestors of mine. Though my grandfather did run a post office for ten years. A lot of postal workers in my family.”

Silky smooth the fingers released from the gentle hold and retracted and he replied in a hope to keep them from turning away, “Very honorable profession. Are you a messenger as well?”

“No,” Continuing on his eyes scored over their face and the corner of his mouth ticked up imagining a hint of a blush spotted spread across their cheeks as if the moment had been delayed and just now hit them as it had washed over him at the time. “I used to design buildings.”

The career had his eyes flinching wider a moment and he asked eagerly, “Used to?” Hoping to learn why such a career was given up.

“Well, I ended up here, not much call for it with Hobbits it seems.”

“Surely you could work in Bree, Men always seem to be in use of new buildings with their shoddy craftsmanship. Even in the Blue Mountains with my kin the Longbeard clan I am certain you could find work.”

A smirk eased across those same plump lips in another glance his way at the gate they propped open for him to step through, “Longbeard?”

Weakly Thorin chuckled, almost bashfully and he mustered his courage to meet their gaze again, “My beard was much longer, before, when my kin lost our home in the Lonely Mountain.”

“I’m sorry, that must have been painful. I know when my Gran got kicked out of her home she’d inherited it really took the wind out of her sails. Only got one more year with her before she passed. Of course my dad was in the forces so we got shipped where the boats docked.”

“Boats, you must be half Man then.” Again that brow ticked up and he shook his head, “No matter. How did you hear of the meeting?” Thorin said turning to the door.

“Meeting?” They asked and beside him stepped up halting him from his third knock.

Hotter than the fire he was peering into Thorin’s skin burned remembering that single touch, skin on skin now all the more sinful as two words seemed to be shouting in his ears. ‘My Dear’ it was said not once but five times by the Hobbit to the angel he had encountered, ushering them away from the sterner looking Dwarves to a cushioned chair where once claimed cherishing grins were traded and the candlelight in his first spoonful of soup saved for him had Thorin’s eyes joined by others in inspecting the emerald cut diamond surrounded by a strip of onyx settled onto a simple silver colored band he would need closer inspection to tell which form of metal it was. Clearly he had arrived too late, and by the look on his equally as surly cousin Dwalin’s face he had also fallen under their spell.

One song, that was his hope, to spur on something Dwafly inside the mysterious YOUR NAME. Deep and true they sang of home hoping deep inside they could lure another Dwarf among their numbers. But a hushed conversation after hours of the hat wearing Dwarf among them speaking with the Hobbit to try and coax him along too if that was what it took to get the angel along had gotten the their way. A rest of hands together over the Hobbit’s middle and bashful whispering came after glances stolen at the others.

“You just want to get closer to a certain hatted Dwarf.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes and you smiled stealing a glimpse of the others then whispered back, “Fine, you’re lucky I actually like camping and all that. I’ll dig out my boots, coat and sweaters.”

Bilbo smirked and said, “It seems I will have to dig up quite a bit myself.”

He hurried over to find the contract he made a flourish of signing luring Balin over with a smirk to sign the witness spot himself before turning to you saying, “Ori is drafting up your contract as well, Laddie.”

That had you blinking a moment confused at the title, but on the line once offered a contract of your own all eyes watched your fluid cursive signature partially awing the Dwarves now certain that you were raised at least partly with Men by the looks of the delicately perfected markings. Laddie, sir, once was forgivable but the more it drug on it just confused you more and more. They couldn’t really assume you were a man, sure you didn’t have the largest breasts but even under your thick layers at your usually chilly self your shape couldn’t be mistaken as anything but feminine. Their King had even shaken your hand, Judo and boxing had given you calluses and mountain climbing had broken minor scars into your skin but overall slender fingers and soft palms are telltale female signs. Baths should have clued them in even more as Bilbo refused to allow the others to bathe with the pair of you, he stood watch and you him taking turns bathing, even ensuring none could dare take your time asleep to their advantage by sharing a spot back to back piling your blankets together for extra warmth. All the same the sirs remained.

With a sigh you sat staring down at a stream flowing under a bridge in Rivendell. You just needed some time to decompress from all the testosterone and egos battering. All the way since BagEnd Dwalin and Thorin were at odds with Bilbo and more than once you had to lie down in your wagon across the bags to keep from shouting out in pain from the stress head aches your mental side to their arguments went. You weren’t meant to interfere, but more than once you had joined in on the telling off backing up Bilbo, clearly winning an apology almost at once but it never stilled the animosity.

The path here was sort of a blur, two days prior you had gone with Gandalf at his request and again the damn Wizard had left you stranded. But a shriek from you had the duo on horseback who leapt from a path on the hill on your right jumping down to help you up from your half stuck position after falling off the log you had refused to leave until the Wizard would come back. Onto the back of the shockingly tall horse you sat like a kid on their way to time out until you met the Elf Lord who left you with a full spread of tea and snacks while he himself went out to find your friends. Eyes shot wider seeing you already in the waiting courtyard where food was set but the egos only shifted from Bilbo as target to the nice Lord.

Swinging your legs you caught flickers of your reflection and sighed tired of seeing the already worn seams of your pants coating your now flattened pool of thighs and plopped back onto your back to stare up at the dancing leaves above. A cleared throat had your head turning in a pool of your pitifully knotted hair you had given up trying to comb between the braid you had undone and the high ponytail you had worked it into in frustration at hearing muttered curses starting early this morning. Lindir came into view with a flicker of a smile if just for a moment stealing a glimpse over your slightly more apparent curves while flat on your back, albeit shifted from gravity, “Pardon me, Master-,”

Your sigh halted his words and his lips closed and parted in your saying, “Miss would do nicely.”

At once he let out a sigh in relief and crouched a moment to whisper, “I knew my hunch was correct, even among other races my hunches are usually so adept, but your company insisted on using Master.”

“My company is apparently blind.”

Lindir wet his lips, “Dwarves do tend to be troublesome to discern between genders, even most of their language is quite neutral in pronouns.”

Again you sighed then asked, “You were sent to find me?”

“Merely to ask if you would again wish to join our orchestral practice again tonight?”

“As long as I don’t get another head ache from the Company and their nonsense.” With a nod of his head he rose and turned to leave you to your relaxing with a smirk remembering the skill of your flute you had dusted off now that the break here had been extended twice due to weather around the enchanted ravine you hadn’t played in over a decade apparently yet showed no lack of skill compared to the talented Elves with centuries or practice. The skill enough to lure the Dwarves into the fold of onlookers to inspect use of the metal contraption giving off such enchanting tunes melding with their wooden flutes finely.

This was just enough, still in pain from the clambering path from the Goblin tunnels ending with your judo move flipping the white orc off his giant wolf flinging him off the cliff he had stood on atop Thorin. Bilbo’s sword landed harshly in the wolf’s neck and a hard slam and shove with your shoulder into its side had it down and in the perfect pose for Dwalin to just in time bring his ax down to cut off its head. Quite stupidly after again you turned to find yourself blanking out after refusing to jump off the cliff at Gandalf’s order. They had hoisted you up and jumped anyways while two larger eagles carried your mule and wagon down to the land far below in time for you to wake furious to shun the men who claimed it was for the best.

Backwards you rode on the wagon ignoring all of their pleas for forgiveness until yet again you had fallen off your seat to peer up wide eyed at the giant bear who sat back on its haunches after giving you a curious sniff. Two weeks of aimless wandering and giant spiders later you were now alone in front of the Elf King now that the surly Dwarves had been drug off to the dungeons.

“One more person calls me Mister I’m going to scream.”

You had muttered it out before the King could speak and across his lips a twitch had passed in the slight rise of the corner of them looking you over in your cross armed fury coated in webbing and glaring at the base of the stairs the King had climbed once again in Thorin being drug away. A long legged Elleth however approaching with a goblet of water the King had ordered for clearly the only female and clearly most agitated member of the company in a means to garner trust, gently she asked, “Mister-.” Though her eyes snapped wide a moment at the near to inhumanly possible scream escaping the woman triggering a shake in the Elf King’s shoulders mid amused chuckle covering his eyes a moment in a brush of his fingers over his forehead hearing the Dwarves several floors below in the dungeons shouting at what they assumed to be your torture.

Thranduil on his feet again stood and walked down the steps saying, “Tauriel, our female guest here clearly is agitated and no doubt thirsty.”

Looking up at the timid Elleth cautiously bringing the goblet within your reach your hand split from under your arm you uncrossed to accept the goblet, “Thank you, and I am sorry. But it’s been months, months,” the second time you emphasized in a slight growl, “Mister this, Sir that, for the love of Pete I am going to strangle every last one of them if you don’t lock me in a different cell.” Lifting the goblet you took a sip shifting your eyes to the still smirking Elf King.

“My Lady, my terms still stand, return my gems and I will set your company free.”

“No offense, and I do really get the keep the female separate part, I do, excellent tactic, far more useful had they known I was female in the first place, but then all you needed to do was just have me taken down first, then cue the screams and then they would be at your mercy.” That had his brow inching up, “Or at least that’s what every bad guy, or in your case opposing King from neighboring kingdom would do. But,” you shrugged, “Spiders, dragons, what next flying wombats spitting lizards at people, really I’ve just about spent my limit of usefulness with these people I highly doubt I could get those gems out of that mountain. Tried to just step over Gloin’s boot once and he just about stabbed me popping out of his sleep no telling what they would have set up around that hoard.”

Thranduil’s head tilted a moment and he looked you over, “Tauriel will see to it you are bathed and changed before being taken down to the dungeons. Perhaps the hours of silence could break their wills.”

“Did you say hours?” You asked and he nodded, “I doubt I’ve ever spent more than twenty minutes in a bath and that was when I was a kid and we had boat toys.”

That made the King smirk again and he replied, “I will see to it my Healers give you a full massage and heated rock treatment to recover from your venture through my lands.”

With a nod you said, “Oh, you might want to try some mint. Spiders hate mint, at least where I’m from they do.”

To himself he muttered, “Mint,” as you were led out of the room to be pampered for as long as you would allow before being led back again in new pants and a gender disguising set of knee length robes in deep grey and green.”

Thorin to himself muttered post spine tingling scream from you, “You were always beside me, Bilbo by you, where is the Burglar? Find them Bilbo. Find YOUR NAME, and get them out of this mountain keep.”

Hours he recited your name in his head hoping it was merely a tactic to prolong the tension, that Thranduil would not stoop to the levels of harming an innocent among his kin. Dwalin however had been tracing back a stolen walk to fetch firewood. The night after the company had learned the ring you bore was not in fact from Bilbo, or stunningly to you a true diamond that had come from a fiancé before ever meeting Bilbo. No contractual binding, no betrothal to speak of, merely lovers it seemed. Not the most ideal situation but if Bofur had his way and his charm won out you would have soon been free to mourn the end of that bond and yet be free to welcome another lover, or two. It was clear you laughed the most around the King and himself and even when defending Bilbo had tried to be respectful to the pair and tried not to hit too hard in your responses to their comments.

A lost footing had your hand on his arm and a stolen hold of your hand came in his helping you over a fallen log unsteady from the recent rains. Hours it seemed you talked and laughed alone while that night on watch together once again you had dozed off on his shoulder, a smirk inducing habit becoming more regular as the cold had crept in drawing you to warmer sides luring Bilbo to do the same. Over a passing try at whittling he found his in to the seat at your side to assist in growing your skill along with a hardly noticed before stream of fireflies etched in swirls up your forearm to your elbow to the string of lanterns there. Nights he dreamed of tracing those swirls with his fingertips while you slept between him and Thorin safe from cold or harm.

Up the Dwarves looked at the approaching footfalls and between two Elves fully scrubbed and changed into warm Elven robes still glaring as hard as ever with a wafting scent of herbs, oils and oddly enough caramel apples while you walked into the cell they opened for you that shut behind. Oin was the one to break the silence, calling out, “Laddie, what did they do to you.”

Lowly you grit out, “I’m not talking to any of you.”

After an irritated huff Thorin barked out, “Just tell us if they hurt you, that scream-,”

“Bars or no bars Thorin Oakenshield you better hope Bilbo finds us soon or I’ll throttle you.” Of course that only spurred on a debate between the Dwarves as to what the word throttle truly meant.

Two weeks and to the edge of the forest Bilbo walked the wagon and back again slipping past the guards easily with his enchanted ring managing to sneak you out and into barrels. If you thought you were angry before you certainly were beyond speech as you clambered your way out of the stream panting through the frigid cold racking through your body from the water soaked clean through you. Grumbling and storming away from the others you rubbed your hands over your face only to watch a tall man ease up on a barge and try to creep up on your company all ensuring you had all made it. A hard slam of a stone into his shoulder had the man crying out and before he could cry out again you had his arm bent behind his head and him on his knees.

“Now, you are not going to hurt my friends, we are going to hire you to get across this stream,” he struggled only to groan in pain at your tug on his arm increasing the tension pulling at his muscles from the awkward angle, “And then you are going to row away knowing nothing of Dwarves crossing here. Do we have a deal?”

Lowly he groaned out, “Yes, Ma’am.” The term had your head tilting a moment and your grip releasing in the approach of the soaking wet Dwarves watching as he lowered his arm with a pained wince and stood up off his scuffed knees to nod his head, “I believe you good fellows needed a lift to shore?” Smirks were cast your way and cautiously you all watched him round up the barrels and climbed on board the barge for a brief ride across the river. A shake of hands and the passing of coins had the so named Bard repeating your name to himself in a stolen glance at you in his rowing away while you fondly hugged the neck of your mule glad to be with the one un-infuriating member of this Company still with you since the other ponies had taken to a habit of trying to lick you in your sleep a couple months back when you had a mishap with a bee hive at Beorn’s cottage.

I gotta keep the calm before the storm

I don't want less, I don't want more

Must bar the windows and the doors

To keep me safe, to keep me warm

The ethereal voice echoed through the mountain silencing Smaug’s rumbling tones. Deep in the heart of the mountain the Dwarves rumored an angel to have woken. Another creature on wings sent down to right the wrong of their home having been taken. One to shield the line of Durin from falling to the flames.

Yeah, my life is what I'm fighting for

Can't part the sea, can't reach the shore

And my voice becomes the driving force

I won't let this pull me overboard

Barely a few minutes the voice echoed through the halls and straight into a hall across from the rushing stream on the lowest levels sat open with a piano to accompany the voice in a song etched into the minds of the Dwarves listening. Surrounding his body water rushed flooding Smaug entirely only to come crashing down again in the heavy fall of his crumbling body into a pile of stones once he had died.

God, keep my head above water

Don't let me drown, it gets harder

I'll meet you there at the altar

As I fall down to my knees

Don't let me drown, drown, drown

Don't let me, don't let me, don't let me drown

Deep in the heart of the hoard the Dwarves had begun to dig for the stone while you settled the ponies and mule into the farming peaks laying out the hay that Bilbo had snuck from the Elven stables. A night of downing stolen wine found you alone on a balcony with Dwalin and Thorin seated around you soberly speaking with you stroking your back after Bofur and Bilbo had snuck off alone. Lowly at your side while stealing a chance to claim your hand in your dozing off between them Thorin rumbled in a try to coax your voice out to break your lingering silence to them since being brought to that cell. “I will write to Thranduil, he can come fetch his gems in the morning.”

So pull me up from down below

'Cause I'm underneath the undertow

Come dry me off and hold me close

I need you now, I need you most

You didn’t say a word, so tired and unable to hold back what your voice was able to do. A family trait, one you worked hard to control to keep others from being hurt when you spoke out in anger. Singing came with great care but dropping the hold on your powers came like butter melting on a hot stove flowing naturally while Bilbo searched with ears stuffed with ear plugs you had given him to keep him from being drawn into the trap you had set for the dragon while you knew the Dwarves were a safe enough distance away. Asleep though for once it wasn’t a dream, slumbering and waking between the pair on a plushy pile of furs with one carefully draped around you to spare your modesty at not having asked to have slept there.

God, keep my head above water

Don't let me drown, it gets harder

I'll meet you there at the altar

As I fall down to my knees

Don't let me drown, drown, drown

Don't let me, don't let me, don't let me drown

Don't let me drown, drown, drown

Don't let me, don't let me, don't let me drown (Keep my head above water, above water)

Cross armed leaning on the overlook wall you flashed a finger wave to the Elf King in his approach gaining a head nod in return before his gaze dropped to the men exiting the front gates to sit at the table waiting there for the groundwork of the first bit of the trade deal. Though your focus dropped and your eyes drooped at the growing chill and turning away you went back down to the made up bed of furs again still tired to get some more sleep. A habit kept up through the next week shared by all of you, cuddling up through the night in your made up bed with days of scrubbing to get at least your apartments in the Royal Wing, yours being certain to be comfortable to ease your days in a now lonely bed.

And I can't see in the stormy weather

I can't seem to keep it all together

And I, I can't swim the ocean like this forever

And I can't breathe

New faces always means new troubles. Thorin was King for all to see and at his side as his personal aid in plans for the redesign of Dale your position placed you right in the heart of all the drama it seemed. Dams seemed to be flocking around and adoring stares at their beaded stunning gowns it seemed a number had taken it the wrong way. Certain stares mixed with a lack of verbal confirmation of your interest for courtship after their being turned away by the already love struck King too busy moping with his cousin between bouts of plotting to try and plan the best time to make a move. Their best bet, the Ball used to bring all the lingering Dwarf Lords and their kin together to rehonor themselves to the King claiming the Arkenstone. They had plans, and so did you, you were going to get one of those gowns to wear instead of the trousers, tunic, vest and fur boots the men kept stating would be designed for your clan in any color scheme to your liking.

God, keep my head above water

I lose my breath at the bottom

Come rescue me, I'll be waiting

I'm too young to fall asleep

Itchy beyond belief you sighed and hoped to get away from the Dwarves just for a short while. Back on your wagon for a brief trip while Bilbo resettled his belongings freshly arrived from BagEnd carried by eagles Gandalf had convinced to help, you were off to revisit Greenwood. There was a square in Dale that would be under Elf control for their own shops and you were to assist in securing their designs for the planned market for their goods. Shifting awkwardly in your new Dwarven style shirt and vest under a coat Dwalin had loaned you the ride seemed to go on endlessly until you bowed your head to the Elf King who was outside the stables your Mule had been led to back from a ride of his own.

With an easy grin spreading across his lips he approached you stating, “Lady YOUR NAME welcome back. Would you prefer to get to business or meet with our Healers for another day of relaxing, I mean no offence but you appear to be quite worn from the journey.”

“I am not tired so much as I think I’m allergic to the shirt Thorin had made for me.”

His brow inched up, “Allergic, truly?”

With a sigh you replied, “It seems all the clothes they’ve had made for me are uncomfortable. Feels rough, maybe like an odd type of wool or something.”

Thranduil nodded and turned on his feet extending a hand, “I will escort you to our Healing Wing myself and request my Seamstresses to take your measurements again for a proper wardrobe to return with.”

“Thank you. I know you probably shouldn’t be bothered with minor skin irritations like this, King and all.”

“The troubles of all my people and guests to my lands are my troubles. None is too small for my attentions.”

Back again in the Healing Halls you walked with the King chatting on basic designs of the market and at your statement of tolerance for his remaining while you removed your vest and shirt his voice tapered off seeing the telling deep red pin pricks through the locations of the seams surrounded by patchy pink blotches of skin. “This is no allergy,” he stated seeing the darkening of your veins naming just what had been used on you, “This is poison.”

“I’ve, I’ve been poisoned?”

An Elleth carefully took your shirt and vest turning them inside out revealing the dozens of woven poison soaked boar bristles in the seams of your shirt, vest and once removed trousers and boots. On the verge of crying with a towel pressed to your chest through a pair of Elleths smoothing the reversal cream across your back and arms while the King spoke to you. Softly urging that you were safe and didn’t have to return until you felt for certain you were safe in Erebor once again if ever and that you were always welcome here if you chose to stay. They would get to the bottom of this, that was the final promise after your creams and half hour of soaking ending with your being clothed in confirmed safe tunic and sleeping pants before being tucked in a plushy mattress way too big for just you for the night.

Jaw clenched with brows furrowed Thranduil made his way to his study bringing out a piece of parchment and a pen to write to Thorin.

‘King Thorin,

I understand it is quite late an hour, however it is quite urgent to inform you that Lady YOUR NAME arrived with a severe case of poisoning. Each and every Dwarven piece of clothing in her possession had poisoned boar bristles sewn into the seams. Respectfully until the culprits have been uncovered and punished I would not consider relinquishing care of Lady YOUR NAME for any demand or threat you could possibly imagine to send my way. Furthermore until the Lady herself is comfortable returning to Erebor she will receive the utmost care under my watch and through her first healing soak has with myself settled a great degree of planning towards our square in Dale.

This letter arrives with my wish that you and your Company are all in good health and not fallen prey to this same spineless plot.

King Thranduil Orophereon of the Greater Greenwood.’

Blown dry, folded and sealed the letter was sent off with glare lingering as to who could have dared hurt you. Truly an innocent, stranger to this world, someone he wished to protect at all costs. Hourly he joined the Healers in their slip into the bedroom to coat the back of your hand resting in front of your face with a powerful healing cream so strong it didn’t require to be applied all over your body where the poison had touched your skin, one slicked dab across the back of your hand was enough. Deeply you slept between meals the first two days and on the third woke for another soak and meal after that urged you into another nap. Steadily improving physically, merely sleeping at the encouraging herbs the Healers deemed necessary for a lasting health after such a weighty dosing had been inflicted on your body.

A knock tore the King from his sleep and glaring at the envelope Thorin huffed, muttering to Balin who had brought the note, “Oh look, no doubt bragging that he has received our Council Member.” The seal was broken and the letter unfolded instantly snapping is eyes wider, “Lady YOUR NAME…”

Balin moved to his side, “Lady?”

Together rereading the start of the sentence their jaws dropped only for them to state together, “Poisoning?!” Already Thorin was seeing red and within five minutes the Company was in his apartment, including Bilbo groggy and fixing his shirt over his shoulder trying not to nod off against Bofur’s shoulder.

“Do you remember Lady Eleanor’s gown from yesterday?” The Seamstress nodded and seated in a comfy chair helping to choose from the sketches of possible gowns for the ball for you to wear the King found you and grinned watching your innocent interrogation. “The dip in her top was so low and it barely if even sat on her shoulders. How do you wear that functionally? Is it a hidden corset securing the whole thing because I know she bends over at all and there’s a peep show.” The Elleth grinned at your innocent curiosity, “There’s a whole bunch of me to cover so it makes me wonder. Or is it just down to a real Lady would never bend over situation so that would never be a problem?”

The question was answered and the King came forward to inspect the designs and share you the latest news from the letter in his hand fresh from Erebor.

If shouts were explosions Erebor would be Krakatoa right now as the news flooded through the Lonely Mountain. Immediately in Thorin’s first call to bring the Dams in the Royal Seamstress Ring responsible for the clothing that had harmed you proudly the poisoning had been flaunted proudly until their arguments on how ‘he’ supposedly complimented and asked quite intimate questions on the make and removal of their gowns it was pure intrigue towards traditional Dwarven gowns and manner of dress for Dams in relation to comfort. Shame read right away and written letters of apologies were given to the King to deliver to you as they were sent back to their Mothers’ kin out in Orcarni. Yet news rippled back to Greenwood and wide eyed you sat after hearing that now as a publicly named woman somehow you were now the King’s intended as well as the Master of Arms.

Both Thorin and Dwalin had claimed you publicly as hopeful betrothed and their Ones which Thranduil explained to have not been a binding proposal in your absence but the beginning of their tries to woo you into courting them. All this came with their request to come and visit you and boy did you have an earful of an argument ready for them.

Puppies, two pouting puppies that was what the duo looked like being escorted in to speak with you in your sitting room. Both taking in your natural complexion and twitched up brow noting your temper had come back with your health as well as the flowing gown hugging your every once hidden curve slapping them in the face for how obvious it had been all this time and once they say the pair broke into the meat of the issues between you.

Thorin, “And all involved have been banished from returning to Erebor. Never to return with none ever daring to repeat the offense again.”

“Why poison? You don’t just jump to poison when you think you’ve been rejected or insulted!” They nodded and you continued, “Why I’ve had complete strangers come up to me graphically telling me they want to suck on my toes and ‘treasure my every dimple and fold’ and I couldn’t poison anyone because it was supposed to be taken as a compliment that anyone would find me attractive at all because I wasn’t some bony little twig.”

For a moment they sat silently stunned at your admission of how foully you had been treated by males before. Dwalin growled out, “No one will ever speak to you like that again.”

Then Thorin spoke forcing away his rage, “Now that the truth is out it was all seen as pure curiosity for our culture. The Dams have written begging for your forgiveness.”

“So what does this mean, I just have to have someone try on all my clothes first from now on?”

Thorin, “If you wish. We will see to it that your every wish for safety and security has been brought about in hopes of your return with us.”

Dwalin, “You see, lovely YOUR NAME, it all was a bunch of tiny misunderstandings that grew to this point. Bilbo called you his dear and was so affectionate to you,”

“After Gandalf abandoned me at his home,”

Thorin nodded and wet his lips saying, “Yes. And then there was the matter of the private bathing situations and shared bedrolls and blankets, which is all perfectly understandable now that we have the full details.”

“How could you miss this? I mean I might not be as busty as Dis or your mother Diaa, but here’s still enough oomph in enough of a feminine figure distinguishing us. I mean even my hands-,”

At that they both claimed one of your hands moving to kneel at your feet and Dwalin said, “We are utterly at your mercy and beg your forgiveness for inducing any fears of inadequacy.”

Thorin, “You are the most tempting and bewitching being we have ever encountered. Had we not meant to respectfully await your period of settling once the mistaken relationship with Bilbo was through we could have introduced you as our intended right away once our Kin had arrived and your gender wouldn’t have mattered to anyone at all. We are quite fluid ourselves as a race so there would be no qualms in us having chosen a male as our Husband.”

Teasingly with a hint of a smirk you asked, “Had it not been revealed until after an engagement was announced would that have made me your King or your Queen.”

They both grinned taking your tone as a good sign that you were accepting of their courtships and Dwalin answered, “You could be of King if you wished.”

Thorin rumbled back with a smirk of his own, “I would have been proud to have been your Queen.”

With a sigh you said, “The both of you, I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

#Thorin x Reader x Dwalin #Hobbit #lotr

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louadorable126 · 3 years

Text

Demons(you).me: Chapter 8 - The Cult of Fortuna’s charity event (Part 2)

Artwork Commissioned from Aya/Itouyas on twitter! Please check her out! <3

>>Click here to read on Ao3!<<

Summary:

In a city controlled by the generally altered race of Demons, Lady’s life as a mercenary on the lower floor was never easy. Especially when she ran into Dante. A demon on the hunt for his missing brother.

———–

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Characters: Vergil, Lady, Dante, Trish

———–

Chapter 8:

“Who are you?!

The doppelgänger of Eva raised an eyebrow in confusion at his hysteria. “One of your kind?” She said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I’m on your side, so calm yourself."

Wait, she sees herself as a demon? Great, that totally didn’t soothe Dante’s fears! In fact the complete opposite. Only bringing forth more questions than answers in his already overworked mind.

“S-Sorry. I, uh didn’t expect to see another…” He gulped for the words. "Another one of us down here.” He said shakily, lowering his sword, yet still not letting go of it completely. Playing along seemed like the best option right now in Dante’s mind. Freaking out, as reasonable as it was, wasn’t going to get him anywhere with this.“Why are you here then?"

“I would think the reason is pretty obvious, given that they are currently sitting around us.” The doppelgänger gestured to the limp bodies of the leaders. “Dispatch sent me to deal with these lunatics, and so I have. Though, how very thoughtful of them to send me a backup just in case~ You’re a damn good fighter, and I like that in an assistant."

“Dispatch?” So the demonic military had been looking into taking out the Cult of Fortuna as well then? Eh, not too big of a surprise. It was always gonna be a matter of time. At least on the upside, they’d saved him a job by pulling their ‘disappearing’ act on them here and now. “Oh right, dispatch! Yeah, they didn’t tell me anything about you being here. So hence, uh… all that-”

“Its fine, all is forgiven.” She cut in briskly, waving him off. Clearly holding no resentment at least. “They were probably trying to protect my identity. It's hard to put up a decent front if you know who you can trust!”

“True” Dante responded, somewhat detached; weakly leaning back against the solid wall behind him. In truth, he barely processed her words, too unsettled by the tone of her voice, that gentle yet smug smile not too dissimilar to his own… it was all too uncanny.

Ugh, this is so weird! He whined to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. Why couldn’t she just be a clone of Lady? At least she’d have another pretty sister if that were the case! Maybe a little more murderous, but I could work with that-

A chorus of radio chatter spat its way out of the busted helmet. Easily startling the two of them, as they quickly turned their heads towards the sound. The thick static it emanated, made it far too hard to make out exactly what was being said. But if Dante had to guess just by how many voices were overlapping each other whenever it did get audible, the situation sounded quite hectic.

“Seems like security just found out about our little play session." Gloria commented, glancing over her shoulder towards the open door. The sound of a stampede of feet bashing against laminate sounding in the distance. She sighed, shaking her head. “And here I thought Agnus would be a slower runner.”

“Hang on, you didn’t kill all of them?!” Dante yelled in surprise. This wasn’t good at all. How the hell were they going to make good on their deal with Augustus if they hadn’t cut off all the hydra’s heads? (Maybe a bit too literally in the unfortunate case of the guy near to Dante.) God, Vergil was going to have his guts for this…

“I dealt with who I was ordered to deal with. We’ll leave it at that.” The woman in white said ominously, turning her back on him and heading towards the door.

“Right. Totally not the short and simple way of saying you fucked up!” Dante scoffed, unbelieving.

“Oh, I could’ve killed him if I wanted.” Gloria reassured him confidently. Throwing her gilded blade up into the air playfully and catching it again stylishly. “We need to get moving.”

She left the room. Leaving Dante to on hurry after her begrudgingly; his bold red half-cape billowing behind him.

Okay. Maybe we can still get away with this, even if the cult leaders aren’t all dead! Dante thought, trying to reassure himself. As long as the Cult of Fortuna doesn't reform under Agnus. Augustus will have no reason to think we screwed up. Yeah! All he wants is his family to be free. So like he need to know about the finer details of this mission anyway-

His stream of consciousness was abruptly cut off, when his foot came into contact with something solid and heavy, just as he passed through the doorway. The demon glanced down curiously, only to immediately regret the decision when he found the two guards who’d assailed him at the door, laying out cold on the floor. Looking distinctly very dead, if the large pools of blood around them was anything to go by.

That explains why you guys didn’t come charging in at the first sound of commotion. Damn. Dante mused, awkwardly stepping over the guard’s arm he’d come into contact with. Trying to avoid getting blood on his dark metallic feet, with picky, small steps.

“Are you coming?” Gloria’s impatient voice asked. Dante looked up, finding his mother’s doppelgänger standing there in the darkness with her arms crossed disapprovingly - still holding her sword in one hand. “The sight of a few dead bodies scaring you, recruit?”

“Hey, I’m not the summer intern lady! Show me some respect, alright?” Dante said, biting back with his usual wit. Confidently walking off ahead of her down the hall ahead of her. “What even gives you authority over me anyway?”

“Oh I’ve only spent the last six months infiltrating my way inside here. I’d think with that amount of effort, I should be in charge instead of the guy who rocks up at the last minute!”

“Hey, sometimes it’s only the last few minutes that count in the end anyway!” Dante responded cheekily, lifting his crimson sword up and resting it on his shoulders. An overly-dramatic, mournful sigh escaping him, as he pressed his hand on his forehead, like he was a tragic character on stage. “Though, not that my epic tea serving skills will ever be appreciated now."

“They were very nice, dear.” Gloria complimented calmly from his side. The blond woman had caught up with him once again. "Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Perhaps. Although your real name would be nice too.” Dante smirked.

He knew he was pushing it a bit here. If she was sent by the demonic military, it was likely she wasn’t allowed to reveal her true identity to anyone for the sake of keeping things nice and secure; names always meant loose ends, and that was never good for anything covert.

It was a rule that Dante knew better than most (He kinda broke it... pretty often. Had the higher-ups or his dad found out about his first meeting with Lady for example, he no doubt would’ve gotten one hell of a rocket up his ass for how many protocols he’d broken). So the chances that uptight ‘Gloria’ here was gonna spill the beans on…well anything about herself, let alone the similarities to his mother, was unlikely at best.

It seemed he wasn’t wrong, as Trish’s face turned hard at the suggestion. Looking dead ahead with the stern procession, pretending as though he wasn’t there. Leaving an uncomfortable silence (Not that you couldn’t really call it that though, with all the panicked yelling and commands to ’search the area’ echoing down from a few corridors back) to fall upon them.

But that wasn’t to say there was a glimmer of hope. Every now and then, her lips would twitch almost like she was on the verge of saying something before shutting herself down once again. Until finally, she anxiously glanced over her shoulder and spoke.

“Trish.”

Hot damn! He actually got something out of her! “Trish? Oh like Beatrice-“

“Just Trish.” She insisted firmly. Her fixing her green eyes over to the young man beside her, with an fearsome intensity only Vergil could match. "And your’s?”

Oh. He hadn’t thought that far ahead with this.

Should I tell her? Crap, that was a tough question. Sure in the here and now it would be fine. Perfectly reasonable too since she’d given her own. But, what happened when this mission was over? Trish would most likely have to report back on how this operation went down. Write up some boring essay that Dante normally left Vergil to handle. She’d surely mention he was involved as her ‘back-up’ or something. And that would be fine if she left it vague. There were plenty of grunts like him out there so he’d be pretty anonymous.

But…if he was named. It wouldn’t take long for some clever-clogs back at dispatch to realise he was here unauthorised. Questions would be asked most certainly, and Dante wasn’t sure how well he or Vergil could defend themselves once that started happening. What, being involved in an unauthorised capacity on an operation months in the making, if he went off what Trish said. From there, it could only unravel more and more. The two week absence, Vergil’s little murder tour of the cities’ databanks, Lady, Eva-

What if they already know about Eva? Stuck the sudden, horrifying thought. Trish thinks she’s a demon. What if they had- No! They can’t have done that!

“I’m risking a lot telling you that, you know?” Trish huffed angrily, brushing hair out of her face rather elegantly. “Going to return the favour or not?”

“Yeah yeah I am..” Dante brushed her off, his voice quivering slight. If.. if they had done what he thought they’d done. There was no point hiding anything anymore.

There was no point to anything.

“Its.. its Dante”

“Good name.” Trish praised, a faint smile tracing her lips.

“Heard it before then?” He pried, returning with his usual confidant edge. Yet, that couldn’t be anywhere further from the truth in reality. His stomach was a torrent of nervous energy, swishing and swirling in anticipation for what would come as her reply. Honestly not sure if it would be a blessing or a curse if she did recognise him.

“No. It's just an instinct. Nothing grander than that I’m afraid.” Trish professed a little bashful. “Although, rolls off the tongue rather nicely I suppose."

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Dante said, smiling weakly. Perhaps there was something there after all…

All of a sudden, Trish reached an arm across Dante’s chest and pulled him so they were both pressed flat against the wall.

“Hey, what was that for-“

“Shut it.” Trish ordered sternly, voice low. Putting a finger to her lips, before gesturing with her eyes to the end of the corridor.

Dante followed their gaze. In the dull yellow light leaking from around the corner. Two shadows, large and twisted in a way that made their builds indistinguishable, traced their way across the floor. Thankfully it seemed they had already passed by, if Dante guessed from the direction the shadows were moving. Having missed the pair of demons completely by some stroke of luck.

“Think we’re safe. They’re leaving.” Dante whispered, moving to get up, only the flat edge of Trish’s golden blade to be pressed against his chest. Pinning down him in place, unmoving.

“Not so fast.” Trish advised sternly. Carefully observing the shadows’ movements as they danced across the floor. “They’re going to loop back round any minute now."

“Loop back round? Look, their probably just catering staff on the move. Unless they’ve dropped any napkins on the floor that I’ve missed here, they are going to be long gone any minute now-“

“And why exactly would catering staff move in groups of two?” Trish inquired. She had a point. Tonight had taught Dante enough to know he was barking up the wrong tree here. He’d been left to do stuff on his own, actively encouraged in fact. So yeah, for two people to be walking around together with no trolly did seem kinda strange to be honest. “They’re most likely guards on patrol no doubt. My men….the cults' guards have a protocol to move in groups of two. Means if one goes down the other can call for help. I know because I instituted it."

“Geez, thanks for making our lives harder I guess?” Dante joked.

“Oh I try my best~” Trish stated modestly. Removing her sword from his chest and lowering it back down to her side. “May as well make it up to you then, shouldn’t I Dante? I’ll only be a moment."

Sticking close to the wall, Trish swiftly began to make her way down the corridor. Disappearing around the corner moments later in one fluid, deadly movement.

Off she goes killing again. Dante sighed to himself, letting out air he didn’t even realise he was holding in. The relief that he was on his own again striking him in that moment. He was thankful for it. Any more stress, and his strained heart probably was gonna give out young. And let’s just say keeling over from a heart attack, wasn’t exactly on the demon's to-do list tonight.

The young man reclined his head back against the freezing wall. Maybe I should tell her to just keep to non-violent takedowns until we get out of here. Would’ve thought a trail of dead bodies is going to be pretty obvious to follow-

“What the-“ Cried a distinctly familiar, peppy voice. Followed by a surge of bright blue light streaking across the wall from around the corner. The crash of someone collapsing to the ground echoing down the corridor to Dante’s sensitive ears. Alerting him.

That can’t be good! Dante thought, imminently springing into action. Hurriedly sprinting down to check what was going on.

Only to be met at gunpoint by Lady when he rounded the corner.

———–

Click here to read more! :D

#devil may cry #dmc #devil may cry fanfiction #dante sprada #vergil sparda #dmc lady #dmc trish #dmc dante #dmc vergil

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 5 years

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Love How You Hate Me - Sam x Reader

A/N: Finally have a chance to get this out. Just a little note, if you’d like tagged please send an ask so I don’t lose it. Feedback is always incredible, and I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Sexual tension. Mild animosity. Nothing too wild.

Word Count: Roughly 3,500

“Don't do anything Alice wouldn't do.” You told your reflection, brushing a stray hair away from your face. There was nothing that woman wouldn't do in the right moment. “Or you wouldn't have done.” A coy grin lined your face at that. “Welcome back, Y/N.”

Your H/C hair was left down in waves; leaving your body to do the talking. The E/C gaze was highlighted to help make the color pop. Yet lined heavily enough that it added a hint of mystery to it. Soft lips were decorated lightly; just enough to draw the attention there. The trail to seduction begun to grow more bold as it went on. A small sliver necklace dipped down into your pushed up bust line. The grey tank top hung just right off your breasts, leaving the slopes to catch the light. Its hem danced just over your navel. Letting more skin peek out as you moved. Your decorative, short sleeved black leather jacket was thrown on top to help keep you warm until some man's body could take over. A pair of low riding jeans covered your legs, hugging to your body. Emphasizing your ass enough to catch the attention of anyone in the vicinity. Last, but far from least: the 'fuck me' black heels you hadn't touched in years.

You grabbed your keys, and left your room. Hips swinging heavier than usual. You didn't mind putting on minimal effort around the bunker, but damn did it feel good to clean up. It left you free in a way that you hadn't experienced in the longest time.

“You're going out?” Sam's voice stopped you dead as you worked your way to the garage. Slowly, you turned back around. Preparing to go to battle if you had to. Empty eyes gazed over him, taking in the simple jacket and jean combo he'd paired together. “Me too.” He held the spare keys to your car; something you'd given in case of emergency. The glimmering silver in the low light dangled from his fingers. Your stomach sank as you understood where it was going. “Guess we'll have to share-”

“I'm not planning on coming back until late tonight.” You cut in sharply. Laying out the boundaries hard and heavy. Ensuring he'd have to find a different means back to the bunker.

“What's Dean going to think about that?” As your brows smashed together, Sam's lips ticked downwards. The never ending bitch-face gracing his features.

“He'll tell me I should look for more from a guy, and then move on.” You said it more as if it were a question. Sam had interrogated you before. But, never like that. Your guard went up firmly. “What does it matter, anyway? Dean's not here.”

“Because for whatever reason, he cares about you. Isn't that enough?” Sam's eyes flashed into the rich, angry brown edged. Catching you off guard, again.

Your E/C eyes trailed lower to escape the intensity. Instead, taking in the white t-shirt under the leather. How it fit neatly against his wide, muscled chest.

It wasn't as if you'd never been attracted to him. He'd drew in the more carnal aspects of you time and time again. The danger of taunting a man like him- a man that was strong enough to lock Lucifer inside him to save the world- called out to your inner siren.

Maybe it was because of the way he carried himself around you. So tall and intimidating. So different from his treatment of everyone else. How his head tilted ever so slightly when snubbing you was so simple. But, yet, the arrogance of it demanded you give him a reason to lose that sense of self. And when he pulled out the dimples? It didn't matter if it was from a scowl or sadistic grin. Your ovaries definitely took notice.

Ordinarily you'd push it away. Refused to let it take root. However, that particular strength eluded you in that moment. Instead, your shoulders rolled back.

“Sam,” You tilted your chin up. Taking the time to trace your lips with the tip of your tongue. If you would have glanced away, you might've missed it. How his eyes seemed to shift into warm honey while his nostrils flared. Attraction. Not just the anger you were accustomed to. The knowledge only forced the confidence inside of you to surge. “If your brother wanted me? I think we both know that you would have been the first to find out.”

“Maybe you're not giving him enough to go off of-”

The fast, almost blubbering response was cut short with your own, “Because neither of us is interested in it, Sammy.”

He wasn't buying it. Dean was...well, Dean. And you? There were just too many hints to ignore. “You're telling me that you've never once tried anything with Dean?”

“Do I look dead?” You leaned against the wall; crossing your arms as you talked. “Of course I did. He's a damn good looking man.”

“Thanks for proving my point.” Sam was the furthest thing from amused as he prepared to walk away. Steal the vehicle, and leave you to wallow in loneliness without a second glance.

“Kissed him once.” You looked down at your black nails. The words stopped the younger brother in his tracks. “I was drunk. Desperate for companionship. He was... well, on the prowl.” Details only seemed to increase the glower, but you didn't stop. “It was weird. Kinda like kissing a brother. Just...couldn't get into it.” Your eyes met his. Filled with the silent challenge you hadn't even realized you were sending out. “Since you're so interested.”

“Then why doesn't he...you know-”

“Oh, he does.” You snorted. Hell itself couldn't stop Dean Winchester's libido. It was the one thing you'd always been certain of. How Sam had missed it, you'd never know. “Often. He just tries to be more discreet, lately.”

“He's never been shy about sex.” Sam insisted. Daring you to connect the dots he'd created. As if it would change anything. “Not until you showed up.”

“He thinks I'm delicate, and can't handle how a man's needs work.” The thick mocking tone made his eye twitch. But, you weren't done. Not even close. “I disagree.” Every bit of wicked you possessed came out in the wry grin, then. “Which is precisely why I'm going out in search of some rough sex.” If you'd thought Sam was tense before, it only grew worse after that sultry statement left your lips. You weren't giving him time to recover. Kicking off the wall, you paraded down the hall with a backwards, “You leaving with me, or not?”

“We're not done here.” He wasn't buying your story. Sam fell into step behind you. Glaring a hole into your back. For once, you didn't say a word. Simply flipped your keys around your finger as you walked.

–

“Why aren't you leaving?” You huffed out as the giant himself plopped next to you on the last rickety stool. Any amusement you'd carried had long since faded. The real world was brimming with life, and the last thing you wanted to deal with was Sam.

“I told you that we weren't done.” He answered simply. Getting comfortable in his seat as you tensed up further.

You curled your lip lightly, and turned away, “What more do you want, Samuel?” Your eyes locked on the bartender, hoping that some mercy would exist. That you wouldn't have to make friendly with the enemy.

“Explain the sneaking into his room.” He ignored the 'Samuel', and jumped straight to business. Although, it wasn't his own, it meant too much. Dean meant too much.

He'd messed up when it came to his brother. Time and time again. Ignoring Dean's existence when he was in purgatory had been his biggest sin. Sam would never forgive himself for it.

But, he was a Winchester. He was cursed to screw up, and would again. One thing was certain, though. If he could, he'd keep you from hurting his brother. It was at least something to make up for the rest.

“Of course you caught onto that. And somehow seemed to miss everything else.” A dramatic sigh sifted past your lips as you spun to face him. Giving him a chance to gauge your honesty through your eyes. “I know you've heard me mention the homes.” It wasn't some kind of secret. He didn't know the gritty details, but he'd definitely been present when they'd come up from time to time. “Well, some of them...they got pretty nasty.” Sam Winchester was a protector of innocence. Immediately, he straightened up. Leaving you to rush forward to end any and all pity. “Not all of them. There were some great ones that I desperately wanted to adopt me.” It didn't relax his stature. Yet, you didn't stop. “But, where there's good... there's bad to equal it out.” You cleared your throat to move past the lump that was forming. Ignoring the way he looked down at your lowered head. “Sometimes, I have rough nights. Remember things from my past... Things that...that happened in some of the homes.” You rubbed the back of your neck. Trying to push away the pressure that crept up it. “Long story short, Dean caught on. Told me if I needed to, to wake him up.” Dean Winchester had been a knight in shining armor more times than you cared to count. “We sit and talk until we crash. Sometimes about the dream...sometimes about nothing at all. Just rambles.” You shrugged, still refusing to make eye contact. “Knew it didn't look good... didn't really want you to know one of my 'dirty' secrets. But, I want to get laid, and you're determined to make it difficult.”

Dread pooled into your stomach. Waiting for his tone to completely shift. For the inevitable sympathy to roll in. Instead, Sam focused on one part out of everything. “You're telling me that Dean, my brother, is capable of sharing his feelings-”

“I didn't say that.” You shook your head, losing some of the stiffness in your body. “No, your brother is one of the most closed off people I've ever met. He won't talk to me unless he thinks he doesn't have a choice.” A deep frown settled on your lips at that. “Drives me crazy, sometimes. I worry about him.” The tight pull of your mouth grew more pronounced, “No, he lets me talk. He just...listens, and offers his take...Occasionally, I can convince him to open up a little about how he's doing. But, not enough. Not unless it's really weighing on him.” Another soul deep sigh left you as you turned away from Sam. Your stomach churned as you realized just how much you'd given up so easily. Imagining what he could do with that kind of ammo wouldn't settle. “So, that's that. Now, you can go.”

You waved him away, Instead, choosing to scope out the bar. Bodies of all shapes and sizes packed the room. It would only take settling on one.

“No way.” Sam breathed out as if you were insane. Making your head yank back his way in disbelief.

“I gave you your answer-”

“I don't believe you.” He shrugged easily. “Well, about the relationship.” Because that clarification somehow made it all better.

“You have got to be kidding me.” You felt your pulse jump in response. If there was ever a moment you thought about tackling the lug, that was definitely it.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that you weren't pleased about his hovering, but that didn't matter to Sam. Neither did the fact that he truly believed you. He didn't like you by any means, but his curiosity was piqued. And he'd be damned if he pulled away from that kind of intrigue.

Dean didn't just end up as friends with women. Not often enough for Sam to fully believe that you didn't mean more to the oldest Winchester. The confession could have been lingering on his brother's lips for all he knew. If Sam left you to run off with some stranger? He could end up with another black eye. He'd be damned if he was chancing that one. Or, so he told himself.

“Nope.” He waved down the bartender once he had made eye contact. Settling in for a night out with his roomy.

“Look-”

“Two beers-”

“One beer, and the heaviest thing you've got.” You corrected without blinking twice. The tattooed man nodded and got to work. Seething didn't begin to describe you.

Beer was your second biggest nemesis. The times you could tolerate it were few and far in between. But, no. The lug hadn't realized that you avoided the brew like that plague despite the fact that the Winchesters seemed to live off of it.

But, that wasn't the largest problem. Not by far. It was the gorgeous dick who was entirely convinced that you were sleeping with his big brother.

You respected his decision to protect Dean's heart. Even felt you'd do the same if you felt someone was trying to take advantage of the man whore. However, it was the furthest thing from what was happening between you and Dean.

The urge to let loose was increasing by the second. And yet, you knew that Sam wouldn't allow it. One look at the stubborn set of his jaw confirmed it.

“Thanks.” Sam took the drink from the bartender, and pushed over some bills.

You nodded stiffly as you accepted the beverage that was pushed your way. Internally screaming, you lifted the glass. Tipping it to your mouth as if you still did it on a regular basis.

You welcomed the burn down your throat. Warmth spread through your veins in seconds. Your eyes watered from the sting.

When it was gone, you set the empty container sharply down at the table. Your cheeks were flushed lightly when you looked back at Sam. He had taken a hefty drink from his beer as he watched you chug, but hadn't attempted to compete.

“That was a mistake.” You muttered, clenching your stomach. “Excuse me.” You bolted for the bathroom full speed.

Sam chuckled lightly, watching you disappear into the woman's room. That's what she gets for that stunt. He didn't have an ounce of sympathy as he turned towards the TV above the bar.

After five minutes, he felt a bit of concern. After ten, it magnified into full out worry. Sam got to his feet to make sure you hadn't died.

A few women were leaving as he walked up. With the most friendly smile he could muster, he asked if they'd seen a girl that matched your description. Only to get socked in the gut metaphorically. No one else was in there.

His jaw clenched tightly as he walked out of the crowded bar. Sure enough, your car was gone from the parking spot. Damn it.

He grabbed his phone and the message on his screen made him grind his teeth tightly. 'Get a ride, Winchester. You're on your own. See you in the morning.'

“I'm going to throttle her.”

–

“Fuck,” You huffed, grumbling as you limped into the bunker. You'd taken off your shoes in a poor attempt to stay quiet. Trying to extend your death until morning. Sadly, it resulted in a stubbed toe. You'd contained the profanities you'd wanted to yell until the pain had left enough for you to speak without it exploding out.

“About time.” Sam's sudden voice made you fly into the air. Heart pounding, you gripped your hand over the offending organ while searching for the source. Sure enough, he sat waiting at the mapped table. “I was starting to think you were dead.”

“Hoping, more like.” You shot back, straightening your spine in a poor attempt at looking more intimidating.

“Now, why would I want you to die? Especially before I had the chance to wrap my hands around that pretty little throat of yours?” Yeah, he's mad...

“The deal was you were getting your own ride back, anyway.” You felt obliged to point out. Standing firm in your decision. “I just ensured it happened.”

He didn't look amused. In fact, if the bitch face was any indication, he was trying very hard to keep himself from truly strangling you. It only made your pulse kick up that much higher.

“Hope he was worth it.” He said it as if it was an offhand comment, but you knew better. It was a jab. A threat, even. Reminding you of Dean. And what Sam had locked onto.

“He wasn't.” You sighed dramatically, tossing the jacket that had been in your hands onto the table. Your shoes landed on top of it as you plopped into the chair. Openly goading the stormy man across from you. “You men and not wanting to wrap it up.” His lip curled in disgust. For once, you seemed to be on the same page. “He tried to sweet talk me. Not even slightly worth the risk. So, after all that effort, I didn't even get laid.” Another deep sigh of regret sounded as your chin fell into your hands. “Depressing, really.”

“Serves you right.” Sam snorted, leaning back in his chair. More than enjoying the fact that you'd run away for nothing.

“Oh, come on. I've heard stories about you. You're not mister innocent, either.” You returned, leaning back to begin playing with your chain. Sizing him up as his eyes turned distrustful. “I mean, Alice found those books rather enlightening...”

“She found the books?” Is that fear I detect in his voice, or dismay? Both? You'd never read them, but you'd heard enough. Without missing a beat, you played your card.

“Definitely, Mr. Rough Love.” The gaze from under your lashes was anything but pure. Your teeth tugged over your bottom lip. “Too bad I'm not willing to risk certain death getting within strangling range, or I could be in for a treat. Heard good things, Sammy.” A teasing wink deepened the glower across from you.

“Hilarious.” He drawled out. So dryly that you had to resist another snicker. “Even if you weren't sleeping with my brother-”

“I'm not-”

“I don't think you could handle it.” His eyes scanned over your form in a way that was supposed to say he wasn't interested. However, it fell short. Lingering too long on where the necklace disappeared into your bust.

“If you weren't such a colossal dick, I probably would've...” A slow, sad sigh left you. “Nah. Not even then. You're getting kind of up there in age... I'd rather stick with someone who can... last a little longer.” The blatant taunt hit the mark with deadly accuracy.

“You think I can't last?” It took every ounce of self control you had in you to keep your face from giving away your mirth at his wounded masculine pride.

“Well...” You trailed off with a small shrug, leaving it in the air.

“If you were any other woman...” The hiss of disappointment left him as his nose scrunched up.

“What?” Your skin prickled lightly, reacting to the dangerous tilt in his voice. “You'd prove me wrong?” You leaned forward, giving him a better look down your shirt. His glance was short, but it was too late. You'd seen everything you needed to. “Doubtful.” A lot of things had crackled between you two over the years, but never the sharp jab of sexual tension. When he twitched, as if preparing to lunge at you, the spell broke. With a sharp jerk, you rushed to your feet. “Goodnight, Sam.”

Ignoring the heat in his eyes, you forced the cool edge back into every movement. Carefully, you pulled your jacket back to your arms. Walking away as if you weren't shaking at the knees.

What the hell was that? Sam leaned back into his chair after you'd left, running his hand through his hair. He'd been so close to yanking you across the table to show you just how wrong you'd been. If you would have stayed just a second longer...

It's because I can't kill her, he finally decided. His long fingers tapped over the smooth surface in agitation. The idea was somewhat soothing. Sex was passion. Just like hate. Nothing more.

Slowly, he started piecing together all the little things. Going over everything you'd said. If Dean hadn’t brought you home because he wanted in your pants, it was because he felt some kind of sympathy. And that wasn’t much better for Sam in the end...

Part Four

Tag: @burningmusicmachine @missmarrinette @sherlockedtash88 @rathersuspiciousbumblebee

#supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #spn reader insert #sam #sam winchester #sam fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam reader insert #sam winchester reader insert #sam x you #sam winchester x you #sam x y/n #sam winchester x y/n #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader

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furuba-imagines · 5 years

Text

A Glimmer of Hope [1]

A/N: I shall be posting requests over the weekend. I started writing this story around 2016 (it’s on my quotev and FanFiction.Net) but bc of the rebooted anime I decided to reboot my own story as well the new anime’s honour :3

Word Count: 2706

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sad character past, mentions of family abuse. Crappy format bc it was posted on mobile app. I’ll fix it up later. For now, enjoy!!

Pairing: Eventual Kyo x Oc

Story Notes:

Bold text is Amélie’s thoughts and inner dialogue.

Italicised text is when Amélie is narrating bits of the story like Tohru does in the anime as well as flashbacks (I will let you know what’s a flashback and what’s not though)

ONE - ENCOUNTERS

Amélie smiled to herself as she breathed in the fresh morning air. She marvelled at how beautiful and blue the sky was and how the white fluffy clouds looked as if they were painted in gentle strokes.

'Oooh yeah, that sun feels so warm.'

The sun shone bright, warming up her pale skin, erasing the goose bumps that littered her exposed arms. Turning back to the small black tent that she currently called home, her lip twitched and formed into a forlorn smile as she looked at the photograph sitting atop a folded pile of clothes in a simple brown wooden picture frame. It was a picture of her when she was six, posing with her mum and dad. Everything was so happy and bright back then... but a dark storm washed all that happiness away and she hasn't really felt it since. Despite the accident that befell them happening so long ago, it still got to her. It still haunted her dreams at night and plagued her thoughts during daylight. She wished she could just stop feeling – it would make things so much easier.

With a heavy sigh, Amélie grabbed her school bag and guitar and secured them both around her back and shoulder respectively. She cast one last glance at the picture before zipping up the tent and making sure it was secure, not that she was worried about anyone breaking in. Not many people passed by this area.

'See you guys soon. I love you.'

Even so, she didn't keep her more valuable belongings in the tent, like her piano keyboard. She kept that safely locked up in the school music room. Normally, she'd leave her guitar there too but she wanted to work on the new song she was writing. But she never kept both instruments in the tent at the same time in case something did happen. She didn't want to risk it no matter how small the chance. A part from the picture, her guitar and piano were the only things she had left of her parents. They were both musicians – her mum sang and wrote and her dad played. Music was one of the only things she still found happiness in. She hoped that one day her music would be played across the world for people to enjoy.

Amélie tugged at her uniform, wishing she had a mirror to check herself with. Amélie was never very fond of the girl's uniform so she wore the boy's one instead. She traded in her skirt and blouse for the pants and collared shirt and paired it with her own plain black Doc Martin's. She felt more comfortable in them than the lace up shoes the school provided. The school faculty stopped carding her after the first two weeks she refused to change. She also liked the fact that she didn't have to worry about boys trying to sneak-a-peak up her skirt. The last boy who tried walked away with a swollen cheek, bruised eye and busted lip. She stood by her actions however.

'The little shit deserved it. He had it coming if you ask me.'

Amélie hadn't always lived in a tent. After the death of her parents, her French side of her family were given custody over her but she wouldn't really call them family. The first thing they did was disown her, cast her out and hand her over to the state orphanage as soon as they could. She ended up living there until she was thirteen after her Japanese side of the family finding out about her and adopting her. Amélie would've preferred to stay at the orphanage since they were more of a family than her actual relatives. By the age of sixteen she had endured enough of their abuse and torment and ran away. She ended up staying at both her friends, Uotani and Hanajima's place for a while upon their insistence but the guilt became too much so she lied about having found good accommodation. In reality, she kept moving from hotel to hotel until she was forced to live in the tent she was living in currently. A glamorous life she liked to sarcastically call it, but she was grateful at least that she wasn't living on the sidewalks or under a bridge somewhere.

"Il ya toujours un arc en ciel après la tempéte!" She quoted to herself. There's always a rainbow after a storm. It was something her mother used to quote quite often.

The forest that she walked through she found to be quite calming and beautiful with all the tall trees and lush greenery. With that being said, feeling a little adventurous this morning and wanting to delay school as much as she could, she decided to take a different route. The more she drifted away from her usual path, the more the forest became increasingly unfamiliar until she had no idea where she was going.

"Fuck sakes," She cursed. 'Why would you even try straying from the main path with your horrible sense of direction? I'm such an idiot sometimes.'

However, much to her surprise, something in the peripherals of her vision captured her attention and halting her steps. To her far right, down a hill was a large clearing that lead to a traditional Japanese looking house. Amélie should've known that a forest as beautiful as this one had to have some kind of estate built upon it. With her curiosity piqued to the max, she couldn't help herself and decided to investigate.

‘A little snooping wouldn't hurt anybody.'

"It's called trespassing Amélie and its illegal," she reminded herself but proceeded to ignore her own warning.

Amélie was careful as she made her way down the hill. Hiding behind a bush, she did a quick look around to make sure the coast was clear before approaching the house.

'At least they don't have to worry about annoying neighbours. Must be nice to live here.'

Coming up close to the porch, Amélie couldn't help but be drawn to little ornaments sitting on a wooden rack. Upon closer inspection, she recognised them as the twelve animals of the Chinese zodiac. She smiled to herself.

"They look so well made and detailed. I wonder how long it took to paint them all..."

"Hello, this is a surprise. We don't get many young girls wondering around these parts."

Amélie bristled at the sudden voice and stumbled backwards, almost falling flat on her ass.

'Shit, shit! You've done fucked up now! Run before he calls the cops on you for trespassing! On second thought... he doesn't look too mad. Just play it cool and maybe you can leave without getting into any trouble.'

"I'm so sorry sir! I was just admiring I swear! I'm not here to cause you any trouble." She barely managed to string her words together without fumbling over them.

The man just chuckled and waved a hand at her. "It's quite alright, no harm done." The man's smile turned pensive. "I just find it hard to imagine that a teenager like yourself would find this place interesting." He mused.

'Oh thank goodness, I'm not in trouble.'

Amélie was quick to shake her head as she knelt in front of the rack, the man following suit. "No, it's a very lovely place. And I especially love these little zodiac ornaments here. Did you make them?" She asked.

"Yes I did. They're a favourite of mine too you could say."

Amélie scanned every rock that had been painted with detail and precision but a frown soon formed on her face when she noticed something missing.

"Of course you left out the cat just like everyone else." She muttered. It was more to herself than to the man in front of her although she realised she must've spoken too loud because of his surprised expression.

"The cat? Oh right, I see. You're referring to the old zodiac folktale." He said in realisation and Amélie nodded.

"I used to get dad to tell me the story sometimes before bed. I've always thought the cat had just as much importance to the story as any of the other animals did. I always felt for him."

_____________________

>>>Flashback<<<

_____________________

Little Amélie laid in her bed all snuggled and tucked beneath her plush blankets.

"Goodnight princess," Mr. Hoshimi smiled down at his daughter and placed a gentle kiss to her forehead. As soon as he stood up to leave though, Amélie grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt and tugged on it.

"Wait! Can you tell me that story about the animals again? Pwease?" She pouted, putting on her best puppy dog eyes. The elder man quickly fell for her doe eyes and hopeful smile and found himself smiling along with her.

"Oh wow could I ever say no to that cute face?" he cooed, sitting back down onto the bed.

"A long, long time ago, god decided to invite all of the animals to a glorious banquet. He sent out word for all of them to come to his house the following evening and he told them not to be late.

"Can you name all the animals Amélie?"

Amélie sat up straight and proudly listed all the animals – The dog and the dragon, the rabbit and tiger, the rat and the pig, the cow and horse, the sheep and the rooster, the monkey, the snake... "And my favourite, the cat!" She cheered.

Mr. Hoshimi just laughed and tucked Amélie back underneath the sheets and continued with the story.

"However, when the mischievous rat heard the news, he decided to play a trick on his fellow neighbour – the cat. He told the cat that the party was the day after tomorrow."

Amélie turned her nose up and scowled. "I hate this part," She grumbled with a huff. "The poor kitty cat deserves better..."

"The very next day, all of the animals lined up for the celebrations with the rat leading the way, riding all the way on the back of the cow. Everyone had a wonderful time, except for the foolish cat who missed the whole thing." Mr. Hoshimi finished.

When he looked down at his daughter, he chuckled at her grumpy pout and furrowed brows.

"Amélie honey, why so grumpy?" He asked, but he knew why. She always got mad at the rat for tricking the cat, even though it was only just a story, Amélie had vowed to be the protector of all cats.

"Because the rat was so mean! If I was the cat, I would've kicked the rats butt for being such a... well, a butt!" She exclaimed, balling her hands into tiny fists.

"And if mummy heard you talk like that, she'd have yours."

Amelie giggled sheepishly before a thought popped into her head. "Do you think the cat would like it if I started a year of the cat?!"

Mr. Hoshimi just smiled. "I'm sure he would love that honey."

_______________________

>>> End of Flashback <<<

_______________________

The kimono wearing man smirked and tapped his fingers against his chin in thought. "Funny, I wonder how he would feel after hearing that story, knowing he has a little fan."

Snapping out of her reverie, she looked at him with a confused tilt of her head. "I'm sorry, who?"

The man shook his head and part of her wondered if she was actually meant to hear what he had said or not.

"Oh nevermind. So, what year were you born in?" He asked, quickly distracting her by changing the subject and Amélie went along with it.

"Year of the Ox," she replied.

The man nodded but Amélie noticed his eyes drift to her uniform. Most people found it odd that she wore the boy's uniform so she was used to it by now. She was about to speak, but he beat her to it.

"I apologise, I don't mean to stare. I've just never seen a girl wear the boy's uniform before. I must say though, you pull it off quite well."

Amélie's cheeks flushed at the compliment. She was the worst when it came to accepting flattery and compliments.

"Thank you."

"You're not from around her are you?" He asked suddenly in a curious tone.

Amélie had been waiting for that question. Something she was often asked about also.

"It's my accent isn't it?" She supplied with a smirk.

'I'm glad it isn't too thick for people to understand me.'

"It is quite nice to listen to. I mean, aside from your pretty fa-"

Whatever the man was going to say next came to an abrupt stop and was replaced with a pained gasp as something landed on his head. It was a schoolbag, just like the one Amélie and most other high school students had.

'Oh shoot, did not expect that.'

"My head!"

"Will you at least try to control yourself?" A new voice sighed.

Amélie's eyes trailed up the person's arm that held the bag until she reached their face and her eyes widen in shock.

'No way, Yuki lives here?! If I get caught with him, that stupid fan club of his won't let me hear the end of it.'

Yuki turned his attention away from the man to Amélie. "Good morning Miss Hoshimi, I'm sorry for my cousin. He's bit of a flirt but's he's harmless. It's best to just ignore him."

"Oh no, it's alright. We were just talking is all; he's good company."

The man, Yuki's cousin, rubbed the sore spot on his head. "What do you have in there? A dictionary or something?"

Yuki barely batted an eyelash at his whining. "Two dictionaries actually," he sighed in exasperation as he slid the schoolbag onto his back, adjusting the straps so it fit comfortably on his shoulders.

Yuki's cousin rubbed his head one last time. "So, you two know each other?" He asked, pointing between the two of them.

"Miss Hoshimi and I are in the same class."

Amélie dipped her head in a respectful bow. "The name's Amélie, pleasure to meet you." She officially greeted.

"Same here. I'm Shigure Sohma and Yuki here is my little cousin." He explained with a friendly smile.

"And what brings you to our house this morning?" Yuki asked in his usual soft and polite voice.

Amélie offered them a nervous smile, rubbing the back of her neck. 'I can't exactly tell them that I live in the middle of the forest. They'll probably laugh at me. I need to think of something good to say and fast!'

"Oh uh, well you know, I live... nearby." She trailed off lamely. It wasn't a complete lie.

'Oh yeah, that's such a good cover up.'

She gulped when she noticed their stunned expressions and wished they would change the subject. She didn't do well under pressure.

"Around here? Really?"

"You do? Where?" Yuki pressed. Amélie was hyperaware of how clammy the palms of her hands were becoming.

'Abort! Abort!'

"I don't mean to be rude but I should probably head to school. I haven't been late in a while and I wanted to keep my record clean this semester."

'As if they cared or needed to know that last bit.'

She bowed to them once again. "It was nice chatting with you. Have a good day." She said in a hurry, quickly turning on her heel and walking away.

'Don't look back. Just keep walking...'

"Miss Hoshimi?" Yuki called out after her.

Amélie sighed inwardly. 'Dammit.'

Putting on a smile, she turned to face him. "Yeah?"

"Since you're here, why don't we walk to school together?" He suggested.

'Say no. It's not worth the wrath of the fan club.'

"Sure, I don't see why not?" She accepted with a forced smile.

The entire walk was done so in an awkward silence as neither Yuki nor Amélie spoke a word or even looked at each other. And to make matters worse, they did eventually run into the Prince Yuki Fan Club, prompting both teens to ignore their chants and poses which only made it all the more awkward until they parted their separated ways.

'I better prepare myself for their onslaught of pathetic questioning.'

Amélie groaned. She could feel the headache coming on already...

#fruits basket 2019 #fruits basket #furuba #kyo sohma #Kyo Sohma x reader #Kyo Sohma imagines #Furuba imagines #Fruits basket imagines #Kyo Sohma x oc

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placetobenation · 6 years

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When Smackdown was in its heyday as a separate brand (the first time) I was its biggest fan. I loved the vibe, the workrate, the fist. Teddy Long making Holla Holla tag team matches. So in honour of #SD1000 I want to share a bunch of my favourite Smackdown matches with y’all. None of them happen to appear on WWE’s own 15 Greatest Smackdown Matches list – which are all really good as well, so think of this as a companion piece. You can never have enough Smackdown matches, I always say.

They aren’t in any order because don’t make me choose between my babies.

CM Punk vs. Jeff Hardy – WWE Championship, Loser Leaves Town Cage Match (August 28th, 2009)

Jeff and Punk had an amazing and personal feud, and it all culminated in this epic cage match. Both guys were battered and bruised from their TLC match at Summerslam just days beforehand, and they laid it all out one more time here. Lots of bombs and near misses, the crowd heat is off the charts, and I can still hear J.R. to this day pleading, “Just drop Jeff! Just drop and pay the price!” The finish is poetic, and the post match, heartbreaking.

Matt Hardy vs. MVP (July 6th, 2007)

There are approximately one billion awesome Matt Hardy TV matches to choose from, but this one is special, not just for kicking off the amazing Matt Hardy vs. MVP storyline, but for being an incredible wrestling match, in the purest sense. All three dudes (Matt, MVP, JBL on commentary) work completely out of their skin. In fact this may be the best announcing performance of JBL’s career. By the end what could have been a routine match up felt incredibly momentous. If you like your wrestling to resemble legitimate sports, this one is for you.

Brock Lesnar vs. Rey Mysterio – WWE Championship Match (December 11th, 2003)

What a match-up. Brock was a beast at his bullying best, and Rey was for sure the Ultimate Underdog in this match. Brock was laughing uproariously at the very idea of Rey… until the match began and Rey started to literally run rings around him. Every time Brock caught and splatted him it looked like absolute death, and the hometown San Diego crowd was living and dying with every move. A great big vs. little clash.

Randy Orton vs. Cesaro (February 14th, 2014)

Orton was in the process of running the gauntlet of his Elimination Chamber opponents, making for a fun few weeks of matches, and this was the pick of the bunch. These are two of the smoothest workers ever, and both Cesaro and Orton seemed to relish the chance to let it all hang out with each other. Crazy cool stuff everywhere you look, and by the end Cesaro looked every bit the future star that he should have been.

Kurt Angle vs. Rey Mysterio (January 23rd, 2003)

This aired four days after Angle vs. Benoit at the Rumble, and is a FAR better match. On the list of Kurt Angle’s best opponents, Rey is #1. And #2, and probably all the way through #10 before you even get to Steve Austin. They had a great match every year that they were on the blue brand together, but this one is my fave. It is a hellacious sprint, fast paced and ridiculously cool. Rey is still inventing moves as he goes here, and Angle just spikes him on his head a bunch with suplexes. Spectacular stuff.

Kurt Angle vs. Eddie Guerrero (April 14th, 2005)

This aired a few weeks after Angle vs. Shawn at WrestleMania 21, and is a FAR better match. I’m just full of takes today. Eddie was another great Angle opponent when they were on, and here they get plenty of time and are definitely ON. Suplexes galore, loads of counters and cool stuff, crazy nearfalls, complete with some Lie, Cheat & Steal nonsense and a clever furthering of the ongoing Eddie and Rey angle. These two guys can just GO.

Sheamus vs. Daniel Bryan (May 4th, 2012)

Coming off the back of their unbelievable 2/3 Falls match at Extreme Rules, where Bryan first attacked Sheamus’ arm, this is quite something. I’m not exaggerating when I say that literally every offensive move Bryan makes in this match – strikes, moves, holds, counters – is directed towards Sheamus’ injured arm. Every. Single. Move. Couple that with Sheamus’ world class selling and this is quite a gnarly match, kicking off a great run as the Smackdown ace for Sheamus.

Kurt Angle & Chris Benoit vs. Edge & Rey Mysterio – WWE Tag Team Championship, 2/3 Falls Match (November 7th, 2002)

The Smackdown Six was my effin’ JAM and to me this is where it peaked. 2/3 Falls means two to three times the goodness, and this is chock full of all the good stuff – Angle/Benoit tension, Rey Jr. inventing wrestling, and workrate, workrate, workrate. These guys were cutting such a fast pace that they kept running into everyone at ringside – the referee, cameramen; the poor bystanders couldn’t follow the action quick enough to get out of the way! If you loved the No Mercy tag but haven’t seen this rematch, definitely check it out.

Chris Masters vs. Drew McIntyre (February 11th, 2011)

This is the most unique match on the list. From bell to bell it lasts 1:56. Drew Mac spends half of that time on the floor cutting a promo. Essentially, this is a 1 minute match, and it’s also the world’s greatest 1 minute match. Good wrestling comes in many forms, and this is a perfect example of my long-held belief that there’s no such thing as a match being “too short” to be great.

Rey Mysterio vs. Mark Henry (January 20th, 2006)

Rey and Henry PERFECTED the cat-and-mouse match here on this day. Rey ran himself ragged trying to do anything he could to cut down the giant, and Mark Henry was a human brick wall. This thing proves that Mark Henry has been the business for a long time, and Rey just simply cannot be real. It also comes with a finish that is so awesome, it’s not just out of this world, it is out of this ENTIRE GALAXY.

John Cena vs. Big Show (February 27th, 2009)

You know those “Imagine if they booked Big Show this well ALL THE TIME??” moments we sometimes get? Add this to the list. He looks completely unstoppable, thanks to Cena putting in a vintage Cena vs. Monster performance. He gets annihilated, selling his entire ass off and well and truly earning every small glimmer of hope he gets. Wonderful pro wrestling.

The Shield & Wyatt Family vs. Punk, Rey, Usos & Rhodes Bros. (November 29th, 2013)

The Shield had many cool matches, but I chose this one because it was so different. It starts out as a standard tag team match vs. the Rhodes Bros., which was already over 20 minutes and freaking FANTASTIC when interference lead to making it a six-man tag with Punk, and after more great action yet more people running in lead to a full on 6 vs 6 match as well. Suddenly the ENTIRE second hour of Smackdown was taken up by this never ending tag match. And it completely ruled.

Rey Mysterio vs. John Morrison – Intercontinental Championship Match (September 4th, 2009)

In the summer of 2009 there was a “New Smackdown Six” going nuts with awesome matches every week on Smackdown. Four months of workrate out the ears AND four months of steadily pushing Morrison up the card lead to this: a 25 minute, three segment, highspot extragavanza between the old master and the anointed prince. The spots are INSANE and never ending and the match just builds and builds until it reaches all the way to my heart. This is my favourite movez (with a Z) match of all time.

Christian vs. Randy Orton – World Championship Match (May 6th, 2011)

This is a big time fight with tremendous stakes, between Christian, who had just achieved the boyhood dream and was trying to keep the fairytale going, and multi-time champion Orton, trying to establish himself as the new ace of Smackdown. They start busting out their signature counters in this match, including a finish which would inform ensuing matches for months to come. Orton sells his own nearfall in this more than most wrestlers sell actual offense. A great first chapter in the quintessential ‘Smackdown workrate’ rivalry.

Eddie Guerrero vs. Rey Mysterio (June 23rd, 2005)

For me this is THE Eddie vs. Rey match. Yes, even above Halloween Havoc. This was right in the middle of their incredible 2005 storyline, and the heat and intensity in this is palpable. Even the referee feels it – look how jumpy he is in the early going. And then once it does get going, Eddie and Rey just go to work like only they can and this thing absolutely BANGS. Eddie beats the hell out of Rey, Rey beats the hell out of him right back, it’s a battle of wills of gargantuan proportions. And a true epic, right there on telly. I haven’t put this list in order, but with a gun to my head, this is the best wrestling match in Smackdown history.

I hope you’ve noticed, just like I did, that Rey Mysterio is in like half of these matches. There are so many more I could have chosen too, so shoutout to my man Rey Jr. for being so far and away Mr. Smackdown that I’m pretty sure daylight is second. He’s coming back to face Shinsuke Nakamura on SD1000 (praise be 2018), so with that and the rest of what should be a fun, nostalgic romp, I hope you all enjoy the show, and I hope you enjoyed this fun, nostalgic romp with me too.

#IFTTT #Place to Be Nation

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