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seraphimcollections · 1 year

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gentle giant | ch.2 | Konig x medic!reader

warnings: mild nudity, typical COD violence, gun violence, blood, angst.

summary: the truth of what's got the 141 on the run and now KorTac involved comes to light and is slowly catching up with you.

Callsign is Wren.

Words: 3.3

a/n: I am...so sorry. I'm not dead, and this series is still going, I just haven't had the time to post. Sorry for the long wait!

ch. 1 | ch. 2 |

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Grub time went as expected. Well, almost. You and the rest of the 141 sat at their own table, KorTac all sat at their own. Once you had grabbed your tray, you blinked in shock as Konig went to leave the cafeteria. You grabbed his sleeve, asking where he was going. He sent you a nervous look.

“I usually eat on my own, you know,” he pointed at his hood. “It’s more private.”

You felt stupid for not piecing together on your own. Of course he’d want to eat on his own, he wouldn’t want people to see his face. You should’ve known, Ghost was the same way. All you could do was watch as Konig bent his head down as he passed through the doorway, disappearing from view.

“Oi, Wren! Over ‘er!” Soap called from across the cafeteria.

You finally tore your gaze from the door, walking over to your squad all huddling around one table -- well, minus Price, who must have been dealing with more important matters. The man constantly stayed two steps ahead, and he wasn’t too uptight to let you know. You had to keep in check sometimes, “doctor’s orders.”

You placed your tray on the metal table, sliding on to the bench next to Soap and Gaz.

“‘Bout time you showed up, Gaz, heard you got lost,” you smirked.

“Huh, I wonder what birdie is spreading that rumor?” Gaz said sarcastically, casting a glance toward Soap who sent him a winning smile.

“You boys got settled in fine?” You said, beginning to pick at your food.

“Yeah, got bunked with Soap because Ghost didn’t wanna share,” Gaz grumbled.

Ghost grunted making you giggle, “you actually thought Ghost would share? Come now, you should know better than that.”

“How about you, love? You seem to have settled in just fine, having that big oaf following you around,” Soap said, cocking a brow.

Your expression softened slightly, “Konig is…nice.”

“So he told his name,” Gaz hummed.

“Nice?” Ghost said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

You cast him a look but was quick to divert from his piercing gaze.

“Well, he’s quiet, but harmless,” you shrugged.

Ghost continued to bore into you, “there is nothing harmless about that man.”

“No one is in this line of work, lass,” Soap said midchew.

“Anyway,” you said, eager to change the subject, “when are we moving out?”

“Soon,” Ghost said, “the Captain is ironing out the details with Laswell, trying to keep this within as tight a circle as possible.”

“Much appreciated,” you said, your expression becoming solemn.

There was no escaping it. You were running from the devil himself and all his shadows. You remember it clearly.

You were scavenging for supplies in the small town the task force had cleared out of men who swore their allegiance to Ghohbrani and to his lackey Hassan Zyani. You were running low on the essentials, the fight becoming trickier than the team originally thought. Nonetheless, you all made it out in one piece but you still needed at least antiseptic to stop infection. You kept your gun out of its holster, carefully making your way through the tiny house. You made your way up the creaky stairs, careful to check each corner and small hiding places, eventually deeming the floor clear. Gently pushing the splintering door open with an annoying creak, you entered a small room gun first.

Quickly scanning the room you let out a shaky breath relief, lowering your aim. The room looked to be a makeshift office of source, wires running across the hardwood to the three desks shoved against the wall. Approaching closer, your eyes squinted seeing familiar faces. It was your team, all of their files with their specialties and military history listed, along with candid pictures. They even had pictures of Ghost. A chill ran down your spine. How was this possible, this is classified information, how did it fall into enemy hands?

You tore your gaze away from your own file, your eyes landing on the buzzing of an old monitor. It was a blurry image but obviously a video paused. You moved the mouse before clicking on it to start. The footage was shaky at best, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen, not believing what you were hearing. It was the Shadows, Graves’ team, and they were making an illegal transaction in enemy territory. Under General Shephard’s demand.

You felt your chest tighten as a million thoughts shot off at once. The American missiles found in Hassan’s warehouse were Shephard’s all along? He must have known the whole time, but who else knew? Did Laswell know? Price? You took a step back, hearing the creaking of the door behind you. Immediately you spun around, seeing a masked man you didn’t recognize, and pulled the trigger.

It was a sure shot, your assailant taking the bullet directly in the chest before collapsing to the ground. He groaned and gasped, blood gurgling in his throat. Quickly you rushed him, kicking his rifle out of arm's reach. You kept your aim, as the man hazily looked up at you. You still had time.

“The missiles, is it true you stole them from the Shadows?” You said, trying your best to not let your nerves show.

The man coughed, blood spurting from behind his mask.

“Kill me, I won’t tell you anything,” he said.

Your eyes narrowed, “you’re already on your way, might as well help your chances when you pass over. Now, answer the question: is it true?”

The man’s eyes squinted as he laughed at you, “you already know the answer, soldier. And now you are as dead as I, he…he won’t stop, until he destroys every last one of you.”

“He wouldn’t-”

“Doesn’t matter, your time’s ticking,” the man laughed again, the light fading from his eyes, “I’ll see you in hell.”

You listened to his last breath leave his chest in a wheeze before the dread settled in your heart. You slapped a shaky hand over your mouth as you stumbled away. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you killed a man, and it wouldn’t be last, but you had entered the Devil’s ring, and he was going to burn the earth and everyone in it to bury his sins.

“Wren? Wren do you copy?” You heard Price over the radio.

You felt your throat go dry, you couldn’t formulate anything. You stumbled back until you were leaning against the desk, your gaze never leaving the dead man. Your mind melted away into panic. You had indeliberately put everyone in danger. They would be tracked until the end of the earth, taken out one by one, all because of you.

You didn’t move as Ghost and Soap stepped through the door, their eyes finding the dead man first before looking over to your sorry state.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost grumbled, his cold eyes stopping on you. “What happened?”

You gulped painfully, violently shaking your head. Soap approached you, placing a comforting hand on your arm.

“Are you hurt, lass?” He said, his bright blue eyes washed in worry.

You felt ashamed, the guilt sinking in that you couldn’t look the Scot in the eye. All you could do was point to the monitor, the video paused on the exact moment Hassan’s men apprehended the missiles. Soap’s eyes widened in shock, looking back to Ghost. Simon’s eyes hardened, his head tilted over as he pressed his radio.

“Come in, Bravo 6, we’ve located Wren,” Ghost said, “you’re gonna want to see this.”

Your eyes snapped open wide upon hearing a gentle knock at your door. You laid in your cot, your clothes stuck to you from your cold sweat. After grub, you just wanted to be alone, but knowing the boys weren’t going to let you leave on your own, you made sure to slip away while they were distracted. You didn’t remember falling asleep, only staring up at the ceiling as your mind raced at all the possibilities.

Your chest rose and fell rather quickly as you looked to the door. You heard the person knock again before a gentle voice came through.

“Ah, Maus? Are you sleeping?” Konig said.

You let out a sigh, brushing your damp hair from your brow as you swung your legs over the edge. You walked over to the door before cracking it open, your eyes squeezing shut for a moment due to the bright light. Said bright light was blocked out by a towering shadow, your eyes opening to look into his watery gaze.

Konig’s eyes widened a millimeter, seeing your state. Your skin glistened, more exposed from your flimsy tank top and shorts, the fabric clinging to your frame. All of the curves and divots of your muscles, the way your shirt ride up your navel revealing your little bit of your pudge. The way your nipples perked up through your shirt. He could see everything. He choked on his breath, breaking his gaze from yours.

“I-I didn’t see you leave the cafeteria. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner…I came here as soon as I could,” Konig said.

You couldn’t help but smile at the man’s sheepishness, “I’m glad you came to check on me, Konig, I just wanted some alone time, that’s all.”

Konig nodded, looking down at you again, “are you going to be here the rest of the night?”

You let out a sigh, picking at your sweaty clothes, “ah, it looks like I’ll be taking a trip to the showers before then.”

You almost thought you saw something shift behind his hood, his body language changing.

“Ich komme mit dir,” Konig’s voice was somehow deeper as he spoke in his mother tongue.

A blush sprinkling against your cheeks at his words. You could only laugh bashfully.

“Ah, watch your words Bar, don’t want people to get the wrong idea,” you said, rubbing your arm.

“Ha, I suppose you’re right,” Konig said, diverting your gaze, “but I shouldn’t let you be alone.”

Seeing the determination in the Austrian’s eyes all you could do was nod, “alright, yeah, just give me a sec.”

You walked from the door, leaving it open for Konig to peer inside. You gathered your things into your shower caddy, slinging both your towels over your shoulder. You joined Konig out in the hall, closing the door behind you.

“Sollen wir?” Konig said, his voice almost cheerful.

“Folge dir, Bär,” you smiled up at him.

The two of you walked in silence for a moment. Konig made sure to keep his strides shorter than his usual so he can stay beside you. After awhile, the silence became awkward and you were desperate to break it.

“So, where were stationed before, I mean, before KorTac?” You said.

Konig looked down at you from the corner of his eye making you uneasy under his piercing gaze.

“U-unless that’s too personal,” you were quick to back pedal.

“No, I’m just surprised you’d like to know,” Konig said, and you wanted to think he was smiling underneath his hood. “I was seventeen when I joined the military. I wanted to be a sniper.”

“Why couldn’t you?”

Konig looked down at his gloved hands, “ah, they said that my grip was too shaky, but I think they just wanted me to kick down doors for them because of my…size. Die Idioten.”

You giggled, “well, I can’t exactly blame their decision, I’d be terrified if I had run into you on the field as an enemy.”

Konig frowned, “do I scare you, Maus?”

You could feel the hurt in his words and you eager to correct your mistake. You could hear Ghost’s warnings to keep on your toes when around the giant, but didn’t see it. For the first time in a long while, you felt like you could actually breathe when you were around him. You smiled putting a hand on his arm.

“I haven’t been able to think about anything but the mission since we’ve begun, but speaking with you has eased my nerves,” you said earnestly, “so, no, I’m not scared of you, Bar.”

Konig felt hypnotized by you, unable to find the words to speak. His heart felt like it was beating a million miles a second, his face and ears warming.

“I-I am happy to hear that, Maus,” he said, his gaze not lifting from the floor as he walked.

“Do I scare you?”

“Very,” Konig laughed softly, grinning as he was gifted your laughter.

You both arrived at the showers, all the stall doors open and empty. You were grateful for this, more time for you to be alone. Well, besides the behemoth behind you. Speaking of, the man hadn’t moved from your side, just kept looking ahead of you.

“Uh, Konig?”

He looked down at you, waiting with baited breath.

“Yes, Maus?” He asked.

“I kinda need to take that shower now…” you hinted.

Konig’s body language became frantic as he stumbled over his words.

“A-ah! Yes of course, I’ll wait out here for you,” he said before quickly retreating back into the hall like a puppy with his tail between his legs.

You smiled and shook your head, stepping into one of the stalls and sliding the lock into place. You placed your caddy on the small shelf before you began to strip. You turned the faucet, allowing the water to heat up before stepping under. You couldn’t hold back the long moan that tumbled out of your lips, forgetting who was standing just outside the door.

Konig felt air leave him at once, as if sucker punched right in the stomach. How much more perfect could you be? If he hadn’t known better, he would say that whoever was up there pulling the strings was playing a cruel trick on him. His face felt so hot he was sure he was sweating. And, embarrassingly, he could feel the blood rushing down between his legs. Before he could help it, images flitted into his mind of your plump lips, glossed and parted as he dragged more divine sounds from you. Your thighs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him in, nails digging into his skin. A sight sent from the heavens.

Konig removed his gloves, bringing one hand underneath his hood to feel his warm brow, trying to center himself.

“Get ahold of yourself, täuschen, they’re your comrade,” he cursed himself.

He leaned his weight against the wall, casting his gaze to the ceiling above. It would be an understatement to say that Konig wasn’t having the greatest of times here at KorTac. Sure, it was an improvement from his last station for the German military who merely treated him like a living battery ram, but anything would be an improvement from that.

But Konig was no fool. He knew what the others whispered about him, why the boys of the 141 looked at him that way. They saw him as a monster, a beast, a demon who will accomplish the mission at all costs. Everyone, but you. From the moment you spoke to him, it was different. You were kind to him, when no one else paid him such attention. It made him guilty for thinking of you in this way, what way this was exactly, Konig was only on the cusp of understanding.

Distracted by his own thoughts, Konig hadn’t noticed your soothing humming had ceased. Konig didn’t think twice, entering the showers now clouded in steam.

“Wren?” He called.

He could still hear the shower running the stall but no answer. His stomach dropped, stepping quickly to the stall door, tugging on it and making it rattle. Of course it would be locked, Konig thought. Standing tall, he easily could see over the stall. His eyes widened in shock seeing you curled up leaning against the tile wall, unmoving.

“Maus!” Konig exclaimed, and without hesitation reached over the stall and slid the lock open.

Pushing the door open, Konig rushed to you, kneeling before you and taking your face in his hands.

“Maus, Maus wake up, answer me!” Konig said in a panic.

You let out a groan, your eyelids heavy as you slowly opened them to gaze into the deepest of jades. Your brain was foggy, the exhaustion from the countless sleepless nights finally coming to take its claim on you. You smiled, your eyes squinting, as you looked into those eyes. They were like laying a meadow and being warmed by the sun’s beams.

“So warm,” you hummed. “Mein Bär, halte mich warm.”

Konig’s eyes widened. Being so close, he could see the dark circles under your eyes and your bloodshot eyes — were they always present?

Worry laced his tone, “Maus, when’s the last time you’ve slept?”

You let out a hum, leaning into Konig’s hands. Konig let out a shaky breath, his fingers skimming over your soft cheek. He was painfully aware that you were naked underneath his large frame, the temptation pulling at him. You were falling asleep right in his hands, letting him know he had to move fast.

Carefully leaning your head back onto the tile, Konig turned the water off before stepping away. He grabbed your towel, throwing one over your damp hair. He tried his best to keep his mind out of the gutter, a nearly impossible feat seeing how tiny you were compared to him. An undeniable truth.

Even so, Konig tried his best to awkwardly wrap the towel around your body, taking a little time around your curves. Carefully he moved his arms underneath your legs, the other supporting your back, almost folding you so your head could lay against his shoulder. You barely stirred, your arm laying limp in your lap. Slowly, Konig stood to his height, his eyes never leaving you. Time was lost on him as his gaze never left your sleeping expression. Your lips parted as gentle breath left you, your brow slightly knitted together.

Were you having a nightmare? He wanted to wake, but fearing that would make the situation even more inappropriate, he opted to let you slumber. You felt so small in his arms, like a rabbit cuddling with a wolf.

“Come on, get it together,” Konig chided himself.

He turned to leave the stall, once more checking that you were mostly covered in the damp towel before stepping out into the hall. Your wet hair began to soak his sleeve, slowly becoming cold from the chilled air.

“I need to get you to bed or you’ll catch a cold, Maus,” Konig murmured.

Of course you couldn’t hear him but seeing you nuzzle closer to his chest had him half convinced. His gaze through the slots of his hood couldn’t be torn off of you. How could someone be as perfect when they’re awake but also when they sleep? It didn’t seem possible until he met you. A lot of things didn’t, but he was beginning to understand.

Lost in his own world, Konig hadn’t noticed the extremely light footsteps rounding the corner, until his eyes shifted to the floor in front of him only to find black combat boots. He choked on his breath, his head snapping up to stare into dark vats of brown cast under the shadow of a grim facade. Stopping in his tracks, Konig felt his spine go rigid as he looked nearly at eye level who they called Ghost.

To say that Ghost looked unimpressed would be an understatement. The stare the Brit was giving poor Konig would have sent him to the rings of hell. Ghost’s gaze flickered to you held protectively in the Austrian’s arms before letting out a grunt.

“Get her to bed,” Ghost’s voice gruff, “idiot has been putting herself through hell past hours, knew it only a matter of time before she knocked out.” Konig gulped before nodding, “I-I was posted out in the hall and she fell asleep in the shower, comrade.”

Ghost grunted, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, “get a move on then.”

Konig nodded, brushing past the lieutenant, and continuing down the hall. Ghost watched the man go, something else swirling in his dark eyes.

“Better take care of them, idiot.”

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#konig x you #konig x reader #konig fluff #konig smut #slowburn #mw2 #ghost #soap #gaz #price #seraphim collections: gentle giant

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obsessivevoidkitten · 2 years

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Surprise Adoption

Platonic Yandere Male Harpy x Male Child Reader (CW: Orphan reader, harpy man, kidnapping, soft yandere themes) Word Count: 1.6k (Tumblr is no longer allowing me to make posts from or reply directly to anything in my inbox so this is the anon request this fic is for: “Hi! Are you willing to write Platonic yanderes? If you are could you write a (male) Platonic Yandere Harpy with a (male) child reader senerio? The Harpy lost all of his eggs due to hunters and while mourning he sees the reader and believes that it’s one of his young?”) (I hope this is okay, maybe not my best work, but I tried. Sorry it took so long. I made him just have one egg so he could stop searching instead of multiple, I made the reader an orphan so the ending could be happy instead of the reader being taken from a family) Holden was so distraught, even years after the loss of his egg he was still grieving. Humans had raided his nest and he had barely escaped with his life. Harpy eggs take a very long time to develop and hatch and the time he devoted to nest building and to his egg and then the lost of them had mentally broken him. It had been over three years, he still thought about his child every single day. His egg. Did it even hatch without him? If it did then what became of his hatchling? He scoped out human cities and villages relentlessly when he finally found you. His beautiful son! In a field between the forest and a fenced building on the outskirts of a town. You had grown so much! Harpies did mature really fast after all. But what did they do to your legs, your feathers, your WINGS!??! They somehow made you look completely human!! But that’s okay, he would not love you any less at all just because you were a bit different now! He was your parent and it was his job to love and care for you. He had to resist the nearly overwhelming urge to snatch you up right then and there. You had lived with humans your whole life now, you even looked like one, Holden was no bird-brain, he knew that it could cause more harm than good to you if he forced a transition without being prepared first. For now he would stick to the trees, shadows, and sky and silently observe you. You were a 10 year old living in an orphanage, it was pretty lonely. You had been left on the orphanage doorstep as a baby and had spent your entire life here. You supposed that it wasn’t so terrible, it wasn’t like the movies. There was no sadistic director, no evil psychopathic teachers, no terrible and relentless bullies. Everyone was nice enough, but you distanced yourself, no point in making friends. It just caused pain for everyone when they inevitably got adopted and left you behind. It happened a few times before you got the memo to stick to yourself. You always got your chores and homework done quickly so you could spend extra time out in the yard, and when the coast was clear you snuck past through a secret hole in the fence and spent time in the field and forest beyond it. There wasn’t much else to do. You were sitting at the base of a huge oak tree, listening to the birds and bugs as you doodled in the dirt with a stick. Before long you got sleepy and dozed off peacefully against the tree. It had been a pretty tiring day between classes and chores and the cool breeze made it feel just right for a quick cat nap even if you had not intended to take one. A sudden chill made you reach for your blanket subconsciously, not finding it you woke up fully in confusion. You were moving over one hundred feet in the air. What the…? You must be dreaming! You finally noticed a tight grip on your arms and looked up. Above you there was a huge bird-man holding your small arms in his large pink bird-like feet. Each toe was tipped with a wicked looking talon which sent a shiver down your spine. You could not see much of him from your angle but you saw the white feathers that covered his upper legs and his pink lower legs. You screamed, you started to thrash but then thought better of it, if he dropped you here your head would certainly crack open like an egg. “Wh-what are you doing!? Please don’t kill me!” You were utterly terrified, you did not even believe that harpies were real! And if they were real then they would nearly be extinct by now. “Am I dreaming???” “Oh, I am so sorry (Y/N), I did not mean to scare you! Please don’t struggle. This isn’t a dream. You don’t need to worry, you have been asleep for a long time and we are almost home!” He spoke in a chipper, almost bubbly, voice with an upbeat energy. “Why did you take me!? How do you know m-my name? Wh-what’s going on???” You began crying in confusion and terror. Your heart pounding in your chest. You were going to die, you were sure of it. “Awe, please don’t cry! I have pizza at home, I know you don’t never miss pizza day so I made sure to make some for you so you won’t be grumpy! You’re my son and I have been watching you so I could prepare for your return to live with me.” “W-what? That’s insa… I’m n-not a harp-” You could barely get the words out as you sobbed. “We can talk more inside! We are almost there.” A few minutes later and you had managed to calm down a little bit as he flew you into a forest of colossal trees. It did not take you two long to approach a wooden building in the trees. He put you down gently on a porch that wrapped around the entirety of a large tree house that was built around four massive trees before landing beside you. It was pretty impressive, there were solar panels on the top and you were at least 100 feat up above the ground with a nice wooden bridge that went from the porch to a hill near the house. The hill had a dirt trail that lead down to the forest floor. You could easily make a run for it. There was no telling what this kidnapper had in store for you. You started to take a few steps backward but before you could bolt the yellow harpy grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside excitedly. The bird man closed the door behind you and flipped on a light, the house was huge! It was all wood and very spacious. The room you were in was furnished with shiny little trinkets and baubles hanging from the ceiling, a couch, and a small TV. Now that he was standing in front of you and not carrying you through the air you could see him clearly for the first time. He resembled a cockatiel, like the one the director had in his office at the orphanage. Plumage covered almost his entire body except for his face and his legs below the knee. His legs were pink and ended in the foot of a bird with sharp talons, his face had orange circles on his cheeks and his hair was long and yellow. His feathers around his neck were grey but the rest were white except for his wing tips which were as bright and yellow as the sun. He pulled you into a tight hug and you squirmed uncomfortably. “oh, uh, sorry, I am getting ahead of myself, I forgot to even introduce myself, I am just so happy. I am Holden. Your father!” He guided you to the couch and had sit and he took a seat beside you. “Uh, well, I think you have the wrong boy. I am not a h-harpy, I don’t even have wings! Or a single feather, I can’t be your son!” At this he looked at you with sincere sympathy and spoke softly, “Hey, don’t worry about that! Just because they altered you doesn’t mean I love you any less okay? I know you were taken and raised as a human and that’s okay.” Holden gently ruffled your hair. “Are you insane? I am a HUMAN! You can’t keep me here!” You were scared and annoyed and overall confused by the events of today. You just wanted to go back home and crawl into your bed. “I know it will be a rough transition and hard to accept (Y/N), but I am your father and I know best and I promise to be patient, anyway, you’re probably famished! I know I made you miss pizza day but no worries~ I made you one earlier, let me go heat up a slice!” The harpy smiled and hummed happily as he went off into the kitchen to get you food. You considered bolting out the door, but it was dark and you had no idea how to get back home. And truth be told you were starving, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to grab some food before planning a later escape. You couldn’t flee on an empty stomach after all. After a few minutes he came back into the living room as bubbly and chipper as ever with a plate of food he handed to you with a couple slices of your favorite type of pizza, except unlike at the orphanage it had cheese stuffed crust. “I hope you like it! I learned how to make it myself for you, I cannot expect you to live like a harpy after living among humans so I will live more like a human for you! I made sure we have electricity and that everything is accessible with stairs, and of course I got human furniture. I know you’ll be happy here eventually my little nestling!” His voice held his normal upbeat optimism, but there was something more in his eyes, something like desperation for you to be happy here. You could tell he was really putting all his effort into making you accept life here. The way he looked at you with love and acceptance made you feel odd. You had never had anyone care about you like this before. As you took a bite into your homemade pizza baked with love while Holden started rubbed your back soothingly you started to think that maybe living here as his son wouldn’t really be a bad thing. You had just been adopted in a slightly different manner than usual.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #platonic yandere x reader #male yandere x male reader #yandere dad #yandere harpy #harpy oc #my oc #my oc holden #cockatiel harpy

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symphonic-scream · 1 year

Text

Okay

Phantom Pirates au time

This would be a Persona 5 (Royal) Pirate au, and I'd love to make it a full fic but I've got my plate full for now, however, as always, I'm super down to chat and post about it here

So, without further adieu, it's pirate time

So it all starts with a boy, and a ship. No one knows the kid, where he comes from, or how he managed to acquire such a fine vessel. Most guess that he must be about 12, smudged with soot and sporting a bright yellow scarf

He dreams of a life on the high seas, of adventure and doing what's right to the end. However, no child could manage a ship the size of the Velvet Room all on his own, and finding a crew that matches ones ideals would be a hard task.

...or would it?

A young man is sentenced to death, sitting in a damp, solitary cell awaiting his trudge to the gallows. Falsely accused, no fair trial in sight. He stares up at the stars through the bars at night, and wishes that he could be given another chance

Two foreigners fall under the thumb of a business they hadn't intended to be sucked into. In order to save their own skins, they hand over their only daughter to be bought or sold, to be done with however her buyers please. She cries silently at night, dreaming of escape and loving for herself

The streets are a dangerous place for a youth. His father owed a debt, one his mother payed for with her life. Left on his own, an injury rotting away one foot, he stole to pay for a shabby peg, his meals. Treated like a rat scurrying under the feet of the townspeople. He prays for a chance to make them all pay, to bring hope to those like him

Each is given a chance, an offer from a small boy; Join his crew, help his cause, and a life of glory will await them on the other side.

And how could they say no?

Within a month, an infamous sex trafficker finds his fort burning up around him, cowering in the shadows of three figures; one with a false leg, the image of a skull painted over his face; a woman in a red leather corset, fire spreading with each snap of her fingers; and a man in a long, dark coat, the burning flames of rebellion in his eyes

Suguru Kamoshida burns that day, but the evidence of his crimes does not. That is the day that whispers start to spread, about a new pirate crew, one to be feared;

The Phantom Thieves of Hearts

In a port a few months later, they pick up a new member. A young artist, who reveals all in his work, being hunted after revealing the sins of a baron in a public portrait. Cornered by guards in what he believes are his final moments, the young man accepts his fate. However, his time has not yet come. A figure in a tall dark coat comes to his aid, and he makes a deal with a young boy with a yellow scarf

Left to die, bleeding out on the sand of a small island, a young woman cries for her sister. She'd gone blindly down the same path that had gotten her father killed, and had been named a military deserter for maintaining her morals. Shes found there, on the brink of death, a wound from a musket draining her life away in her gut. A young boy patches her up, and accepts her vow to repay them for her life, fighting by their side

Stowed away below the deck of the Velvet Room, they stumble upon a girl. Small, frail, terrified. Her death is sought after by many, as she carries the last proof of the crimes her mother died trying to bring to the light. Making a deal with the youngest Phantom comes easily to her, an urge for vengeance fresh in her heart.

A young royal, heart and soul locked away in her father's palace, promised to a man whose eyes boil with sludge and sin. Both ignore the calling card sent their way, and their fortunes burn around them in the dead of night, the blood of their hired guns soaking the marble floors. Smoke fills the locked tower, the door flung open. The heiress is escorted back to a ship she's only dreamed of, and given a choice. For her, it is an easy decision to make. She shakes the hand of the young boy with the deadliest of pirates at his back

Twin performers, hair as red as the dawn, favoured throughout the lands for their talent. However, their troupe leader owes money he does not have, and the elder erases the debt with her own blood, spilled unwillingly one cold night. Framed for her own sister's murder, the younger is forced to flee. Starving in a port not known for its generosity, she finds a young boy staring down at her with the bluest of eyes. When he offers her a chance to make things right, she takes his hand

Their Monikers, spread through carefully painted portraits posted after shabby wanted posters made their debut, spread fear among those that do wrong.

Joker, a man who is as deadly as he is mysterious, always heading the Phantom charge in the dead of night

Skull, who man's their canons with a deadly force, just as loud and bombastic as the artillery he fires

Panther, a beauty with flames that dance from her fingertips, flint sewed into a pair of rose gloves

Fox, as handsome as he is beautiful, hidden in the shadows, master of disguise

Queen, her shots always deadly accurate, blood red eyes haunting survivors until their final breath

Oracle, a mastermind in her own right, planning each heist and raid as easily as planning what to eat for dinner

Noir, a deadly force that spills blood with glee, fighting with elegance, grace, and rage

And Violet, quick with a blade, her hand always steady as she drives it through another victim's chest

They are the Phantom Thieves, pirates of the Velvet Room.

Anyways yeah so there it is. What do y'all think? Thoughts? Ideas? Questions? Please I wanna talk about this

#persona 5 royal #persona 5 au #persona 5 #p5r au #p5r #p5 #p5 joker #ryuji sakamoto #ann takamaki #yusuke kitagawa #makoto niijima #futaba sakura #haru okumura #sumire yoshizawa #phantom pirates au

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whump-card · 3 months

Text

Forged Divinity Chapter 10: Leannan Meets Jeanette

2302 words

CW: institutionalized slavery, religious themes, dubcon (not explicitly described), abuse, choking, Google Translate

Previous, Masterlist, Next

~~~

Amos 6:4-5

You lie on beds adorned with ivory and lounge on your couches. You dine on choice lambs and fattened calves. You strum away on your harps like David and improvise on musical instruments.

~~~

Leannan didn’t see Phineas much for the next two days. The Council – minus the elusive fourth member – dined together, and Leannan joined them, eating fine meals of fish and potatoes with tart berries and cream for dessert. But beyond that, Phineas was off doing God-knows-what.

James visited Leannan once more, but seemed to lose his nerve before he could do anything, escaping with a lame excuse about ‘business to attend to.’

Leannan explored the Council building a bit. It was full of rooms, all connected by hallways, floored with time-worn linoleum. Some of the lesser-used rooms had sagging ceiling tiles, or were filled with little desks and chairs, stacked on top of each other in three-dimensional mazes of metal and plastic.

He stopped exploring after receiving one too many leering remarks from the guards dotted around the building. They weren’t allowed to touch him, by the Council’s decree, but that didn’t stop them from cornering and ogling him when they got the chance.

The only guard who offered a shred of kindness was the Captain, DuPont. He broke up one such gathering, snapping at his subordinates to get back to their posts, before looking Leannan up and down appraisingly. Leannan returned the look; DuPont was a barrel-chested man with dark skin and hair and a shadow of a beard, authoritative and burly.

“You good?” DuPont asked.

Leannan nodded quickly. “Yes, sir, thank you.”

DuPont smiled at him oddly, then reached out and ruffled Leannan’s hair.

“You let me know if they bother you again.”

~~~

What Leannan didn’t find while he was exploring was the fourth Councilman. He was close to cracking and asking someone who they were – but then he met her.

It was evening, and Leannan was walking back to his room after a long outing to Donda Island’s market. He was provided a small allowance of bartering chips, and today he had spent it on perfumes and rouge. It had taken him all afternoon, as he had stopped to talk to every vendor and passer-by who would humor him. He now knew more about Donda Island and its holdings, its imports of textiles and its exports of berry wine and leather; the ever-shrinking fishing business, the struggling dairy farms, and peoples’ anxieties about the coming second summer, when unimaginable heat would descend upon them.

He’d also learned that their view of Phineas was less than favorable.

He was sorting through this information in his head, trying to come up with the best way to present his findings to Phineas, when a sound made him stop outside his bedroom door. Drifting from further down the hall was an unearthly humming. He recognized it immediately, and it sent a flutter through his stomach: an organ.

He’d always thought that ‘organ’ was an appropriate title; the one back in Iowa City had loomed like a great living creature, breathing and singing through what seemed like hundreds of throats and mouths. Leannan had always stared up at it in awe, hardly able to keep singing along himself.

He stood frozen for moment before quickly entering his room and leaving his purchases on the vanity, then returning to the hallway to follow the noise. It lead him along the corridor, one silent step in front of the next, until he determined the door it was emanating from. He was loathe to interrupt the music, but he had to know. He knocked.

The drone stopped, and a woman’s voice called from beyond.

“Come in!”

Leannan opened the door, and stepped into a room far finer than his. The bed was larger, and had a grand canopy of fringed damask, and there were a pair of armchairs and a teatable, in addition to a wardrobe. There was no vanity, but instead two – two! – full length mirrors in one corner. There was a distinct smell; some sort of pine resin smoldered in a dish on the teatable, filling the room with pungent smoke. The main point of interest, however, was a very thin and wan woman sitting in the bed, propped up by countless pillows. In her lap was a long, flat, black box, with a row of black and white keys, just like an organ. It had blinking lights, and wires ran out of it to some sort of contraption sitting in a fading sunbeam on the floor. Electronics, Leannan identified, though he didn’t know much about the stuff.

The woman was staring at him, the bags under her eyes doing little to weaken her icy, piercing gaze.

“You must be the holy concubine,” she intoned.

“Yes, madam,” he replied, offering a little bow.

“I’m Jeanette Faverolle. The missing Council member.” A hint of bitterness tinged her voice. “But you’re not here to listen to me complain. You came for the music, yes?”

“Yes, madam,” he echoed.

“Please,” she waved a hand, “Call me Jeanette.”

“Yes, Jeanette.”

“Sit. I will play for you.”

Leannan perched in one of the armchairs, and Jeanette set her fingers to the keys. Leannan couldn’t help but be a little disappointed; what had sounded so unmistakably like his long-lost home through the muffler of doors and walls sounded tinny and small coming directly out of the electronic keyboard. But it was still the sound of an organ, and it was still music, of a sort; Jeanette moved across the keys at random, slowly drawing out one chord before moving seamlessly to the next, building an eerie soundscape. Leannan closed his eyes and leaned forward, as if he could submerge himself in the noise.

Leannan wasn’t sure for how long he sat and listened, only that he had relaxed fully into the chair, sprawled in it most unbecomingly and completely at peace, when Jeanette quite suddenly lifted her hands from the keys and plunged the room into silence.

Leannan sat up quickly, straightening his shirt. Jeanette was staring him down. The evening light from the windows had faded into darkness, and the room was lit only by a single lantern at Jeanette’s bedside, which cast eerie shadows over her gaunt face.

“You belong to the Council as a whole, yes?” she asked.

“Yes, Jeanette.”

“Therefore I am entitled to a quarter of your time, yes?”

“Yes, Jeanette.”

She nodded brusquely. “Return to me tomorrow, after lunch.”

“Yes, Jeanette.”

“You are dismissed.”

“Yes, Jeanette.” Leannan stood, hesitated, then inclined his head to her. “Thank you.”

Her lips pursed, and her eyebrows pinched.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

Leannan nodded again, and quietly left.

He walked slowly back down the hallway, dying of curiosity. What ailed the Councilwoman? Why was she never at any of the meetings or dinners? Why had Brochard and James never mentioned her?

His thoughts were cut short by Phineas, fast approaching. Leannan stopped walking and lifted a hand to wave, but Phineas reached him in a rush, catching his waist and fisting a hand in his hair.

“Hej, stranger,” they purred, and kissed him.

Leannan wondered why Phineas was suddenly so touchy after two days of ignoring him, but Phineas explained.

“I shot a deer,” they murmured, nipping at Leannan’s ear.

“Congratulations,” Leannan giggled.

“Come with me.” Phineas practically dragged Leannan to their room, and Leannan spent the next twenty minutes with his head between Phineas’ legs. Afterwards, Leannan crawled up to lie next to Phineas and tried to tell them about what he had learned at the market, but Phineas shoved him off the bed.

“Shoo!” they said unambiguously.

Leannan tried not to be disappointed. Maybe Phineas had more important things to do – but Leannan still felt that the information he’d gathered was valuable. Regardless, he left, returning to his own room – and bumped right into James, who was leaving it.

“My apologies, Master James!” Leannan said immediately.

“Leannan – I was looking for you, I…” James grabbed Leannan’s upper arm and pulled him further into the room, closing the door. He had a wild look in his eye that set Leannan on edge. “I was looking for you, just – hold still…”

James’ hands closed around Leannan’s throat and squeezed.

Leannan had no warning, no time to prepare, and was hit with a jolt of genuine fear. James was supposed to be timid, he was supposed to be all bark and no bite… and yet. Leannan grabbed the Councilman’s wrists and tried to speak, but James was already crushing his throat closed, and it hurt. Horrible little squeaks and croaks were all that could escape Leannan’s mouth. James’ jaw clenched and his eyes were crazed and his arms shook as he clutched Leannan’s neck as tightly as he could. Leannan felt his head growing hot with trapped blood, and knew his face was turning red. Ordinarily when being hurt unexpectedly he would take in air, calm himself, and breath through it, but that wasn’t possible now. His vision started to go gray and fuzzy, and he found himself struggling instinctually. His feet dug into the floor, his shoulders twisted, and his hands yanked on James’ arms. It all only made James grip him tighter, growling something threatening in French. Finally, a coherent thought made its way through Leannan’s adrenaline-soaked and oxygen-deprived brain and he forced his body to fall slack, and rolled his eyes up into his head as if he were passing out. At this, James cursed and threw him to the floor, where Leannan spasmed and sucked in a painful breath through his battered throat. He wheezed helplessly as James stood over him, panting.

“Fucking peasants!” James shouted, “Think they’re above it all! Think they’re better than me?” He lifted his foot back to kick Leannan, tapped it to the ground as he hesitated, then shot it home into Leannan’s gut with a shout of rage. Leannan couldn’t stop the ragged cry that was forced out of him, and he curled up into a ball.

James began to pace, rambling in French.

“Ils demandent toujours ce qu'ils ne peuvent pas avoir!” He punctuated his last word with a second kick, this time to Leannan’s shin. Leannan flinched and whimpered, still disoriented. He didn’t have a plan. He couldn’t handle this.

“Taxes this, taxes that, maybe if you worked a little harder!” James circled around and kicked Leannan in the back, just below his ribs. Tears sprang to Leannan’s eyes, and he urged them on, sobbing.

“Master James!” he wheezed, “Please...”

“Oh, what, are you going to ask for something you don’t deserve too?” He loomed over Leannan, chest heaving; but then he seemed to deflate a bit as he took in Leannan’s pitiful figure on the floor.

“I suppose you do deserve some thanks. That was very… refreshing.” James rolled his shoulders, and his hand drifted to his belt. “Very… helpful.” He contemplated the thought a moment longer before stepping over Leannan and walking to the door.

“I’ll send someone to check on you,” he said, almost sounding regretful, and left.

Leannan rolled slowly onto his back, allowing himself to cry for real. He hadn’t liked that. Not at all. He kept misjudging James, and getting caught off-guard. He lifted a hand and pressed probing fingers to his throat. He didn’t need to look in the mirror to know he wore a necklace of handprints. He sat up, tears rolling down his cheeks. He wanted to go back to Phineas – but he knew Phineas wouldn’t be interested in his whining.

He had to do his duty. He had to endure.

He brushed the tears off his face and forced on a smile, but it only lasted a few seconds before he sobbed again. He didn’t want to have to endure anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to God, “I’ll be okay in a minute, I swear, I’m sorry. I can do it, just give me a minute!”

He pulled up his knees and hugged them to his chest, hyperventilating slightly as he looked around. His room – the room that was supposed to be all his – didn’t feel safe anymore. He hadn’t even realized that he’d felt safe there in the first place until it was taken away. It felt wrong, now. It felt… It felt a way he couldn’t name. It felt bad, that was all he knew.

So he sat, and cried, and slowly calmed down. He was just starting to struggle to his feet, wincing as muscles flexed under new bruises, when someone knocked on the door. He wiped his hands across his face and straightened his clothes before going to answer it.

It was the pale, frizzy-haired woman, bearing a tray with a steaming earthenware mug on it.

“Yes?” Leannan said, then balked; his own voice shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did, coming out painfully hoarse and low.

“Councilman Faverolle sent you some honeyed tea, monsiuer,” the woman explained, her eyes running up and down Leannan’s figure. Not in the way people usually looked at him, though. Instead of lustful, she looked concerned; her eyes flitted particularly around his neck. She had a sharp, nervous gaze, like a small bird.

“Oh!” Leannan spoke through the pain, “How thoughtful of him!” He lifted the mug from the tray. “Thank you, madam…?”

She tucked the tray under her arm, tilting her head a little funny at being addressed with madam. “Just Maeve.”

“Thank you, Maeve,” Leannan rasped, smiling as best he could, “You should call me Leannan, then.”

She looked at him a moment longer, then nodded.

“You’re very welcome, Leannan. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Once she was gone, Leannan walked to his bed, nearly limping from the pain in his lower back. He set the tea down on his bedside table and stripped, dropping his clothes carelessly to the floor before crawling into bed. He took up the tea and hunched over it, enjoying the warmth despite the summer night.

He was being rewarded. He could endure.

~~~

Previous, Masterlist, Next

Taglist: @angst-after-dark, @sunshiline-writes, @flowersarefreetherapy, @thecyrulik

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist!

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #forged divinity #cw slavery #cw religion #cw dubcon #cw abuse #cw choking

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loop-loremaster · 1 year

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HI RESIDENT newbie to fortnite lore can u infodump me the s2c2 and any midas lore im obsessed and need to learn EVERYTHING i can about him immediately. also the big lore post u made was SO SO SO helpful !!!

AYE AYE CAPTAIN!

I'm glad it was helpful! I'm always glad to help out. As always, if you have any other questions? Shoot me an ask :D

Before the days of SHADOW (and Chapter 2), Midas set his sights on building an empire of espionage, intrigue, and conquest. For this he recruited three people with great potential: The Burning Wolf, Chaos Origins (soon to be Chaos Agent) and Sierra to make them his first three Shadow operatives, together they form The First Shadows. Midas' original three operatives are respectively nicknamed Midas' first enforcer, Midas' first redeemed, and Midas' first pardoned.

In a picture in Doctor Slone's office in Corny Complex, a picture of Slone revealing her genius talents to the IO can be shown. In particular, a silhouette strongly resembling Midas (by the clothes and hair) can be seen, hinting he was maybe previously part of the Imagined Order before his arrival in the Loop. That can also explain Midas' mastermind capabilities and how he knows so much about the Island.

Midas also has a unique history prior to even building an empire of espionage, intrigue, and conquest (how he lost his eye, how he got the golden touch, what his true backstory is), but much of it remains to be unrevealed for now.

Chapter 2 Season 1: Midas selects Eye Land for his new base, likely being aware of the Zero Point stationed underneath there.

Before he takes over Eye Land and transforms into the Agency, he touched several items and furniture in the houses, turning them into gold and leaving behind a GHOST folder on the golden toilet.

His golden hand also appears in several trailers for Chapter 2: Season 2. This season is most possibly the time period that takes place when Midas recruits members for SHADOW before GHOST came about.

Fortnite Chapter 2 Season 2 Storyline:

Following the reconstruction of the island due to The End event of Chapter 1, The first group of E.G.O. members entered The Loop through a Plane that was sent by the Imagined Order. Their mission was to search the reconstructed map and set up a base. They investigated the Loopers while the IO worked secretly to reconstruct the Bridge.

However, a mysterious group named A.L.T.E.R. whose members strangely resemble those of E.G.O. is already present on the island.

(This only applies to some members, since during the season other A.L.T.E.R members appear but do not have alter-egos at E.G.O - get it?).

Throughout Chapter 2: Season 1, a battle occurred between the two factions. Near the very end of the season, Chaos Agent was seen observing the battle in the shadows, soon to be known as the current leader of A.L.T.E.R./SHADOW.

E.G.O. & A.L.T.E.R. are now known as GHOST & SHADOW respectively.

At the very start of Chapter 2: Season 2, Midas activated several sleeper agents within The Loop. These include Lynx, Bushranger, Brutus, (Agent) Peely, and Journey.

Midas forms a group of neutral agents, with unique locations that belong to them. Skye is stationed at The Shark, Brutus and The Grotto, TNTina at The Rig, and Meowscles at The Yacht - alongside an Agency to fight against SHADOW. Him and the other agents being responsible for a location each, while also being a boss there. As time passes, all the agents choose a faction (SHADOW/GHOST), and their locations change with them. After Meowscles betrays GHOST and joins SHADOW, Contract Giller infiltrates The Yacht, and allows Deadpool to take over as a GHOST agent. Members of the X-Force would then arrive at Apollo.

Throughout the season, he slowly worked on a Device alongside his daughter Jules to destroy The Storm which was spotted in his room, directly underneath the Agency and possibly right above the Zero Point. In his room, a journal containing a drawing of Oro's scepter was there, possibly meaning that his golden touch has something to do with Oro and his scepter.

A suit similar to that of Tempest's was also spotted in the room. The suit was later used by Midas to harness the power of the Storm. Countdowns for the activation of his Device also appeared in the Agency and in his own room.

The Device was hidden underneath the main building of The Agency itself, while the pylons were underneath five newly-built hatches under the water surrounding The Agency.

Midas wanted to destroy The Storm, which would subsequently break The Loop and escape it.

Midas' project was going directly against the Imagined Order, who wanted to preserve The Loop and keep it running.

Near the very end of the season, Midas began charging the orb machine. The Device went through three stages. Initially, a bright yellow 'core' appeared within the orb, consisting of pure energy. Next, tendril-like structures were emitted from the core, slamming into the outer glass of the orb. At the final stage, the core grew bigger and brighter, and the tendrils grew larger and stronger.

At this point, some of the tendrils managed to breach the outer casing, although they were channeled and rerouted back into the orb.

While this happened, No Sweat Insurance built themselves a new office in Lazy Lake and insured Pleasant Park, Sweaty Sands, Frenzy Farm, and Holly Hedges against a flood scenario, with dozens of No Sweat Insurance signs being placed on those POIs.

The Device

On June 13th, the countdown for Midas' plan appeared above The Agency.

When the countdown for The Device event reached zero, the storm had already closed in around The Agency during the later stages of a particular loop.

Five pylons emerged from the five hatches surrounding the Agency. Once the five pylons completely rose out of the hatches, an energised bubble appeared around The Agency, which violently contracted and exploded, completely decimating The Agency.

As the dust settled, The orb machine emerged from the ruins of The Agency. It rose high up on an elevated platform and stopped once it reached a high height. This was followed by a large shockwave, causing all the loopers to levitate into the air. The Device activated, and the orb machine hooked up to the five pylons using energy beams.

Then, the pylons collectively hit The Storm barrier and started to push it back. This seemingly contradicted the structure of a normal loop, in which the storm closes in until the entire island is consumed.

In this case, the storm was being pushed back, which partially damaged The Loop, transporting a particular looper to The Bridge, located outside The Loop.

Inside The Bridge, the looper was spawned in Agent Jones' office, containing a desk, computer, and three filed labeled 'TOP SECRET', containing the images of Midas, Lynx, and Jules. The Looper did not spend a long time in Jones' office though, and soon, the loop seemingly repaired itself and returned The Looper back to the island.

Back at The Agency, the device seemed to have malfunctioned, as the energy supplied by the orb to the pylons diminished with every second. Eventually, the orb machine completely switched off, but not before seemingly breaking the storm barrier.

Without the barrier and nothing to stop it, The Storm began to rapidly close in on The Agency, threatening to kill everyone there.

However, right before The Agency was swallowed, the orb machine rebooted, quickly hooking up to the pylons and slamming the storm once again.

This action restarted the storm barrier, and the machine began to push back at The Storm once again. However, this time, The Storm resisted and closed in on The Agency. In the ensuing battle between Device and Storm, The Device emerged victorious, and The Storm was quickly pushed back before it completely vanished.

As the pylons began retracting back into their hatches, The Loop started to collapse. A single bolt of energy slammed into the orb machine from the sky, disabling and rendering it unusable.

The orb machine then proceeded to retract back down underneath the destroyed Agency, as the loop collapsed and returned that particular looper to Jones' office.

There, Agent Jones could be heard talking in the hallway outside about the problem facing The Imagined Order. Jones could be heard saying;

''(to phone) Uh no. E-everything is NOT stable over here. We are act- (to Janice) Uh, Janice! Janice! Uh, dial the Resonance Actuator to 7.2. Now, please. Yes! Right now." Janice replies "I'm on it!" Through the closed curtains, Janice could be seen rushing down the hallway towards the presumed 'Resonance Actuator', one of the devices that is likely used to control The Storm.

Jonesy starts talking to his phone again after hearing something from the other end.

"(to phone) Wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold on, hold on... "It's not just a storm?" What does that mean? Must be connected to the loop, but there's no way that we could have predicted that it would react THIS way. At this-".

Jones has just found out that The Storm is not simply a storm, as The Loop depends upon it to function. He appears to have been stunned that The Loop completely collapsed in the storm's absence and that they had not predicted that kind of event. However, the above conversation is not finished as the looper is transported back to the island.

Upon return, it is revealed that The Storm reacted to Midas trying to destroy it, creating a giant tsunami, held by the barrier of the Storm.

"(to phone) And that worked? How long do you think it'll hold?"

That brief conversation suggests that The Imagined Order managed to contain the wall of water for some time. Jones asks how long the storm barrier will hold before it fails and unleashes the wall of water onto the island.

After getting an unknown answer, Jones states that everything is starting to stabilize, and enters his office.

He is stunned to see The Looper, and asks whether they can hear him or not, as it seems like a Looper has never managed to break out of The Loop and enter The Bridge without traveling through The Zero Point.

Before The Looper could reply, they are transported back to the island in the battle bus, as the loop reset is now complete. With the battle bus flying towards the center of the island with the now destroyed The Agency

After the Device live event, Midas shows his true affiliation with SHADOW (it is later revealed that he is the founder as well as the true leader of SHADOW), he likely handed over The Agency to Jules to turn into SHADOW's new HQ as anything related to GHOST/EGO is removed from the location.

SHADOW seized the opportunity and takes over The Agency ruins, removing all E.G.O flags and placing their own. SHADOW henchmen now patrol the area instead of the usual GHOST henchmen.

Device TLDR: When his device was activated on June 15, 2020, his voice and several other henchmen's voices could be heard. Midas successfully rose the Device up from his underground base. The Device's plan, unfortunately, failed, turning the Storm into a giant Wall of Water instead of destroying the loop as he planned. While trying to repel the storm, the loop destabilized several times. However, during the event, files of him, Jules, and Lynx were spotted in Agent Jones' office, meaning that they had been investigating him for a while.

You can see a replay of The Device event below, I personally prefer it since it's more cinematic. But there are plenty of other videos of the event!

youtube

Midas's Stolen Chair

In Chapter 2: Season 2, in the meeting room of The Agency, Midas had a chair that stood out. It was made of gold, which made it desirable to some.

Eventually, a thief, or a group of thieves, (possibly siding with SHADOW) broke into The Agency and stole the golden chair. It appeared that there was a full plan set up to steal the chair.

Interestingly enough, no other chairs appeared golden in the agency after the only golden chair was stolen. Over the course of weeks, once it was stolen from the meeting room, it was taken to a boat the thieves had likely rowed to the island with.

The thieves then rowed west where a truck would be waiting, housing stolen rope from The Yacht. Once the chair made it to the truck, it reappeared later in Salty Springs and was hidden inside the blue building, with the rope being placed near the top of the staircase, and Midas' chair replacing an old desk chair with it.

The thieves also appeared to have removed a GHOST recruitment poster off the wall in the process and threw it into the trash. Unexpectedly, the golden chair must have been so heavy, as it crashed through the ground and onto the bottom floor, creating a large mess. In the end, the blue house was repaired, but the golden chair was put away into a storage boat that would soon float around the island.

However, the gold chair was eventually found again in Chapter 2: Season 3. It could have been found inside No Sweat Storage, but was later in the custody of SHADOW after the storage boat went away from the island.

Soon, it became a key part of the return of Midas in Chapter 2: Season 4, as a ritual occurred on the top floor of The Authority.

A shrine was made to honor Midas, and appeared to have been used in a resurrection or summoning of sorts. This shrine had originally meant to honor Brutus by having his helmet as well as images of him set up, but was now also honoring Midas using his chair.

The shrine exploded and in the aftermath, a dark form of Midas appeared, called Shadow Midas.

After Fortnitemares 2020: Midas' Revenge, Midas' golden chair suddenly went missing. Again. At first, it was unknown who or what may have taken it until it was later found out that the valuable golden chair was secretly taken by The Imagined Order beneath the island.

Their intentions with the chair are unknown. Occasionally, the chair could have been seen in an IO Elevator during Chapter 2: Season 5, which rose from under the ground and had a chance of housing Midas' Chair. The Golden Chair reappeared in Cuddle Cruisers, alongside the plans used for the Doomsday Device built by Midas.

After C2 S2/3/4, Midas never made an exact "super duper" lore-important appearance, even in Fortnitemares 2020 and his various snapshots (Midsummer, icebound, Golden Gear, Rex, Shadow - not in order) Apart from mentions from Marigold, Jules a short appearance in The Batman comic, a trailer, and golden objects that were presumed to be teasers of his return.

Also, I forgot to mention this in my original lore dump post for you but in The First Shadows trailer; Yes, this is Midas's voice. You may now swoon.

Placed during C2S8, Midas' original three operatives reappear after being hidden for a long time. Midas narrates the first animated comic series for the Fortnite Crew, this being for The Burning Wolf. The Burning Wolf Trailer also reveals that Midas is in fact the one who formed SHADOW. Midas is shown once again as SHADOW in the Chaos Origins trailer, this time with SHADOW Henchmen by his side at Hydro 16. However, it is difficult to know when the events of this trailer take place.

youtube

In C2S2, In Midas' cutscene and room, several golden heads of characters from the Island could be seen, and a few statues of characters could be seen and Midas was seen having defeated the Black Knight and placing his golden helmet on his wall. Interestingly enough, Chaos Agent's mask was on the wall, which leaves many questions as to the fate of SHADOW.

In the Chapter 2: Season 3 trailer, Midas was eaten by a Loot Shark. Many assumed that this was "the end of Midas" and the death of him, but that is not the case as Donald Mustard confirmed he was "in the loop" when that occurred, therefore not permanently killing him.

In C2S5, Marigold arrived on the Island. Just like Midas, she is cursed with the Golden Touch. In her quests, she mentions that someone is "spending Midas' gold" and her pickaxe description mentions that her daggers are a treasured gift from Midas, hinting they have a positive relationship with each other. This is further evidenced by how The Yacht was named "Marigold", linking the connection between the two even further.

In Chapter 3; Many traces of Midas's whearabouts could be found on the island. The golden items in Cuddle Cruisers restaurant, The golden pillows at The Joneses (😏) and the secret hideout inside the walls of Covert Cavern with the golden llama. Golden Look Board's description suggests that he is watching from the shadows. In each teaser trailer for Chapter 3: Season 4, a golden object could be seen in the background - many assumed this would be the return of Midas, to be the one to stop the Chrome once and for all! But that never happened.

#ur my first ask [puts a golden star on your forehead]#fortnite #fortnite lore #chapter 2 season 2 #c2s2 #ask #long post #fortnite theory #fortnite midas #midas

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leonstamatis · 1 year

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reasons to vote for jacob/moses/layna in the @blaseballshipbracket :

(listen. I can’t make you do anything. i almost didn’t submit them at all because they won’t make it all the way and it will lowkey devastate me when they lose. i’m not even offering rewards, because i want to save those for the more contentious battles later on. but, yknow, just for kicks, let’s make a case.)

my second-ever blaseball fic was about these three. it was the first ship that i thought of all on my own, and i was very nervous about putting them all out there.

since then, i’ve written 21k across four fics detailing their relationship through pretty much all of blaseball, up til gamma.

they quite literally have everything? i’m not even joking. moses was involved in the masoning before they came to the flowers. layna was on the beams when they fell into the hellmouth. jacob is a good enough player (or was before gamma rerolls) that he would almost certainly have been vaulted or at least gotten ego a couple times if not for the flowers’ insane lineup.

(moses and layna have sucked outrageously for most of their blaseball careers. that’s not related, it’s just infinitely funny to me.)

that’s not even all.

layna was sent over to the garages during an absolutely absurd three way swap in s12. later, while she was there, she also got alternated.

moses was a receiver, was temporary alternated, had an allergic reaction, watched quitter and wyatt mason vi die (while they were echoing elsewhere, actually! it pains me), and then, instead of staticking out, moses themself died! a regular incineration, at random!

jacob was mostly fine during all of this. he doesn’t experience much. that’s what makes him special. but he’s on the magic now! he fell to their shadows. i’ve given him a wizard hat, in my head.

layna was involved in the first major swap of the expansion era, and one of the biggest ones from discipline, too. moses was the first death on the flowers since cali. (it had been a little over ten seasons.) somehow, in picking three largely unconnected names off a roster to write about, i pulled some players who would have a lot of outside significance. (i did not know this at the time; it was season seven.)

there’s even a dramatic breakup at the end. i made a playlist about it. (there are annotations, too! password’s jacoblayna.)

and like look, i’m detailing all of this because I think the gameplay comes first in storytelling. i can talk about moses as a victim of the game and layna as a victim of the game and jacob as an extremely anxious, but largely untouched, guy, watching both of his loved ones experience tragedy over and over beyond any of their control.

but yknow, I think the fic actually explains their dynamic better than i can in a (relatively) brief post giving an overview. so i’m focusing on what happened to them canonically, and in the spirit of irm, allowing your brain to fill in the gaps of what that’s like for people who love each other.

point is, this may not be the layna you know or the moses you know, or even the jacob you know! but they’re good. and if you are undecided (or have perhaps been persuaded), you should vote for ‘em. because they’re good.

#blb ship bracket #long post //#does this make sense. no.#I think we should all know that I no longer have coherent things to say about these three. assuming I ever did.#also if you need additional info they’re all bi and at least two of them are trans depending on who you ask #i’m fond of them. you can be fond of them too I will share.

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foster-the-moths · 1 year

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u have some awesome dreams . give me them👁️ njkhdcjd actually tho of the three i remember u sharing it's interestign that all three involved you being some sort of whimsical creature (i'm counting altsar as a whimsical little beast he's very silly and fun to m e)

WOOO YEAH i love talking about my dreams they are so Strange um putting all of these under the readmore bc. they are so fucked up sometimes SJFLDJFLJSJF these ones are more horror oriented bc those are some of my favorite ones. i am just listing 4 for now, because this post got very long. i can post more of them later maybe. i have a LOT more but these are just semi-recent ones i can access easily.

warning for descriptions of body horror, gore, injury, death, and parasites (big maggot) and images of body horror and parasites.

1: had a dream a was a little victorian boy (like 3 or something) on vacation with my family and we were on a train but oops!!! we got on the demon train by accident. the conductor surgically removed all of the skin off my face, taxidermied it, sewed it back on, and then sent me to a shadow mirror realm for 18 years. i got back to the Real realm and it turns out it had only been 3 years for my family; but they had still all been distorted beyond recognition and made into worse versions of themselves. my father had turned into a weird goat man, my mother resembled a deep sea fish, and i couldn't remember what happened to my sister or brother. they also didn't recognize me because i had aged 18 years. the rest of the dream was me trying to reverse their transformations.

2: had another one in which i was trapped in an extra-dimensional liminal space that changed and grew as i explored it. It had video game physics which is always fun. when i walked there was view-bobbing and my hands were always visible in front of me, like a first person shooter. i could also sprint jump and b-hop and side sprint and stuff like that. there were also small creatures that latched onto me and tried to kill me, but my hands were extremely lethal (they caused instant burning pain to whatever they touched, and if i pressed my hands against a living thing it would 'melt') so i was able to fend them off. this meant i was basically unbeatable, but could still be hurt.

^this is vaguely what i looked like. i could only see my hands but i'm pretty sure the rest of me wasn't 100% human. i'll draw something better later maybe.

3. a more tame one i had recently was i got trapped in a fantasy video game by accident and ended up in a village that used pinecones as currency. so i had to grow pine trees. and then this other guy started growing saplings on MY farm plot and i was PISSED. he showed me his farming techniques though so i let him stay. time passed very quickly, each hour was a new season, so four hours was a 'year'. i did not realize the implications of this until about two weeks (about 80 'years') had passed. the npc villagers started aging and disappearing and the guy who i planted trees with turned to face me and his face was rotting away. he told me i took too long.

4. less tame one. I had a giant maggot parasite that replaced all of my organs and it tried to control me via telepathic mind battle?? but. i won the telepathic mind battle. so now i WAS the maggot. and i was piloting my own body with weird nerve things and instead of organs there was just a giant maggot in my abdomen but i WAS the maggot and i could feel myself inside of myself. it was like if you could feel your organs against the inside of your skin. incredibly unpleasant sensation. i had to hide the fact that i was a maggot because usually the maggot wins the psychic mind battle and kills people so if my doctors found out i had a maggot parasite in me they would kill me.

^diagram of parasite in the body. the red is the 'nerves' used to control the body. the brain of the host and parasite become merged, which is how i 'became' the maggot. the maggot could also like. climb up the throat and peek its head out of the host's mouth to maul people with its fangs.

#asks #ask to tag #tw: body horror #tw: death #tw: gore #it gets a bit silly up in there when i lose consciousness!!!#also despite most of these sounding like nightmares i honestly had a blast in these dreams.#sometimes the funnest ones are the most fucked up ones! or im just used to them maybe

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cryptidofthekeys · 2 years

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🤡, 🥺, 🦅, ✅️ for the fanfic emoji asks!!

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Well it uh heavily depends on the interaction and how close these characters are tbh but oh my god just,, the soft moments when Character A is just relaxing with Character B and like they trust each other with their life- I LOVE getting to write shit like that immensely so (my trust sadly got broke a long time ago lmao) but I love such trusting moments when it comes to exchanges with any characters I write, I love writing characters who trust one another so much, its very intimate to me

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🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Lmao there’s been so many of these but three recent fics I’ll pick from random- one (it wont get posted for reasons but still) its a fic where uh my yugioh oc Patrick... Let’s just say a certain evil spirit bastard traumatized him at first BUT NOW he just saved his ass from someone probs killing him and is carrying him home bridal style bc hes uh injured bad and Pat is questioning everything, hes like that math meme

2: Being Kane scaring the everloving shit out of Daniel in the horror movies fic and Daniel getting so angy gfjkdlfjgdsld it was really fun to write bc I had it planned from the get go

and 3: In JLOT just, Virgil pretending he doesnt love the fucking daycare attendant is the biggest damn joke in that series,, at first hes like their ROBOTS lmao i dont love them that’d be weird but hes already drawn hearts on a pic of Sun he drew, it is very fun to write this out and it made me laugh to write him in a panicked hurry to scribble the hearts into stars

an honorable mention would be in IWTDFD Chapter 2 where Y/N freaks the fuck out on Hunter n Steph

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🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

LMAO- the superior question, for a joke answer- I fucking fight for my life in my google docs every single time I open them, im fighting so hard and about to get my ass sent to the shadow realm of writers every day, every day i wake up i fight my wips and brain in a 2 on 1 handicap match- ...for a serious answer it HEAVILY depends on the story, for examples

something like JLOT is being outlined with every chapter, I’ve been outlining it from day one whereas something like the Team Hell No horror movie night story is just on the fly by the seat of my pants, some stories are outlined, others are not

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✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

This one I can answer VERY fucking easily,, in my G/T content you can ALL tell I am a sucker for the borrower/tiny in the giants hands, I am a SUCKER for them trusting the giant to be gentle and careful with them as they carry them from place to place and or even to just HOLD them there, I’m a sucker for hands stuff (dont take that out of context I am begging you-) when it comes to G/T, I very much love just this tiny fuckin creature having s o much trust and faith in a MUCH larger and terrifying being who could EASILY hurt or kill em in a second

I like to write trust getting broken VERY much so as well FJKDLKFJGDS- I love trust just in its intimate state but its very satisfying to watch trust get broken,, some other things that often tend to appear is angst,, just angst- even in the fluff stories- lmao I am the epitome of aw dont be scared ...bE TERRIFIED MWAHAHAHAHA!!!!

. . . *ahem* so in conclusion it comes back to trust, wait its been trust all along? it always has been >:)

#Chase Answers #thank you friendo bxrb <3

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theshelbyclan · 3 years

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Castle in the Sky

Summary: You’re the daydreaming sibling of the Shelby’s, but when the adventure spills over into real life, it’s not as great as you’d imagined

(Gif by @nofckingfighting) A/N: A sweet anon requested: can I have request please Something like this Tommy was very protective over y/n and she gets hurt by one of the bad guys and sees blood on her face now all bruised but Tommy wants revenge Omg if you do so thank you so much for my request! ❤️ Huge fan of your works!This is set around season 1, back in the good old days when the only real enemy was Billy Kimber, remember those days? So easy… anyways, hope you like it J Words: 2933 ***

You were only nine when you started as a bookie’s runner for the Peaky Blinders. Nothing about this was special, half the kids of Small Heath worked for them, but there was just one difference: the Shelby’s were your brothers. It was a good job in many ways, because it meant not only being able to help your brothers, but people were inclined to give you a bit extra, just for being a Shelby. You imagined they thought it good luck.

“Y/N, take this to the other side of town, will you?” Tommy requested as he sat hunched over a newspaper. You protested a little, “Why me? I’ve done all of mine for today…” “This one’s extra, alright?” “Who is it?” you could never hide your inquisitive nature. But you only showed it around your brothers; to the rest of the world you were just quiet and practically invisible. He smirked slightly, “Someone who’ll pay up big. That’s why I need you to do it. Can’t trust any of the other kids not to steal…” “I have some homework to do, Tommy.” At thirteen, you were still at school, which was a minor miracle in Birmingham. “Tell you what: if you just do this one job, I’ll get you magazine you’ve been talking about, eh?” now he looked up and met your eyes. “Book, Tommy,” you smiled, “You might have heard of the concept? It’s a little like a magazine, a little like that newspaper, but with more pages? Some find it challenging, but once you get used to it…” “Alright, little miss know-it-all,” he grumbled without malice, “Go on, take the slip, make sure he bets all. Off with you. Stop outsmarting your old brother, eh?” He winked to make sure you were comfortable and you returned it with a big grin. “Where?” “Digbeth,” Tommy’s nose was back in the newspaper, “behind the Golden Dragon.” ***

As you were walking through the streets of Small Heath on your way to Digbeth, you were daydreaming. In a way it was strange just how different you were from your brothers, because the entire Shelby clan was very realistic, trying to make their way in this hard world, where you would rather pretend all day you were the main character in some story. The books you read, it was all an escape to you. So while you were walking, the people and factories disappeared. In your head, you were walking through the woods, on a secret mission that your king gave you. With the top-priority letter in your pocket, you remembered what he’d told you before you left: “If you get caught, eat the letter. If they capture you, make sure to be brave and never divulge its contents to anyone. And if all else fails, you must make the ultimate sacrifice. But remember, you have to memorize the contents of the letter first…” Wouldn’t it just be easier to memorize it now and destroy the letter immediately? You pondered on the matter… In the distance, you could see the mountains and the towers of another kingdom, and you knew your enemies were near. Without anyone noticing, you put a hand to your pocket and could feel the reassuring rustling of paper underneath your fingers: the letter was still there. If it would come to a fight, how would you go about it? If there were just one man, the small dagger in your boots would suffice. If it were two, you’d distract one, maybe by throwing the veil you were wearing, quickly turning around to kill the other and then back to the first one before he had time to recover. If there were more than three, you’d run, because you were the fastest after all. You’d get to higher ground and attack them from there, like a deadly shadow they could never see coming. As you smiled to yourself, you left the daydream for a short moment. You looked down and saw the muddy shoes you were wearing, marching through Birmingham mud. In the distance, all you saw was smoke and factory pipes. But it was honestly all you needed: your imagination did the rest. The real world barged in when you delivered the slip in Digbeth. Everything went smoothly at first. Your big brown eyes persuaded him to indeed bet big, and you were quite satisfied with yourself, knowing Tommy would be too. But you still had to walk back with a lot of money now in your pocket.

*** Almost home, there were only a few streets to go. Your head was back in the clouds and this time you were imagining you were a spy during the war. Silently, you moved through the streets, making yourself invisible and pretending every man wearing a hat was the enemy. So each time you saw one, you changed directions or hid for a second. It was a fun game, until you realised the enemy wasn’t wearing a hat. “Now, what’s a pretty girl like you doing on the streets, all by herself?” A man with a heavy Cockney accent popped up next to you and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. You opened your mouth to reply, but no words came out. In your dreams, you always knew what to say, but in reality it wasn’t so easy. The man approached you and you noticed he’d cut you off from your one exit out of the alley, “It’s Y/N Shelby, isn’t it,” he grinned. “No,” you managed to say, “you got the wrong girl.” He grinned again, “Nice try, sweetheart. We’ve seen you at the Garrison. They don’t allow little girls at the pub, unless they’re a Shelby.” This was all true. You felt your hands getting clammy. “Tommy sent you, didn’t he?” Again, you tried to remember what the hero in your stories would do. She’d run, climb the building and then throw a knife right between the eyes of the man. Or she’d say something clever, just to distract him, and then turn around and escape when he least expected it. He took another few steps forward and you could smell him now, a smell of strange smoke and the river, “Do you know who I am?” Nailed to the ground, you shook your head. “I work for Mr. Billy Kimber. Ever heard of him?” You turned to see if you could escape, but then realised the other side of the alley was blocked by two more men. Neither of them were wearing hats. Cold sweat of fear ran down your back. The man in front of you started laughing, “There’s no running, sweetheart. Just give it to me.” At once you realised he was referring to the money in your pocket, but for Tommy’s sake, you wanted at least to try to be brave, “I don’t have anything.” He sighed, “Don’t play with me. I’m not the kind of man to play with, and neither is Mr. Kimber,” his voice was suddenly low and menacing, “Your brother thought he could, thought he would get away with fixing a race, he did, and now he’s going to be put against the post and shot. Don’t think I won’t do the same to you.” You gulped, but still thought of Tommy’s disappointment in you when he would find out you’d been a coward. So you took a deep breath and said softly, “It’s not yours. This money is ours. You can tell Mr. Kimber to go fuck himself!” It didn’t come out as strongly as you’d hoped. Like a crack of thunder, he swiftly slapped you across the face with the back of his hand. All the air was knocked out of your lungs in a second and you stood gasping for air, as you felt some blood trickling down your chin. “Give me the money,” he demanded again. And then, like your heroes, you pretended to reach for it in your pocket. Suddenly, you turned around and started running into the other direction, hoping to slip past the two men before they could stop you. But it didn’t work. One grabbed your arm and when you tried to push him away, he punched you hard. All strength left you in an instant. The second one started fumbling in your pockets and instinctively you kicked him, which earned you another blow to the head. More punches followed and your head was spinning. As you looked up to the sky, you remembered wanting to get back home, to your castle, where all was well and safe. In the end, they left you on the ground and the money was gone. Your last thought was: Tommy is going to be so embarrassed.

*** “Y/N?” You opened your eyes, but couldn’t see for a moment. “Y/N,” the familiar voice repeated, “Come on, yes, let’s get you home. Polly, Polly will know what to do, yes…” Strong arms lifted you up and rocking with his familiar limp, Curly carried you back to Watery Lane. When he’d taken you into the kitchen, Aunt Polly flew to your side in seconds, asking, “What’s happened?” Uncertainly, Curly explained and as he did, he started to become upset over your state. That’s when Tommy came in and started to calm him, while keeping an eye on you all the time. “Sweetheart,” Aunt Polly had taken a cold cloth to the cut in your lip, “Wake up… Come back to us…” Again you tried opening you eyes and you finally managed this time. But all your concern was with Curly, who was still anxiously fidgeting with his cap in hand. “Don’t worry, Curly,” you croaked, “I’m alright now. You did good, carrying me here.” “Polly will know what to do…” he kept on repeating. Tommy put a hand on his shoulder and it had an immediate calming effect, “It’s alright, Curly, go back to Charlie, eh? We’ll take care of her now.” Before he left, you said to him, “Curly? I’ll stop by tomorrow, see about that beautiful horse of yours, alright?” That put an immediate smile on his face, “Yes, she’s a beauty, alright… And she needs her princess to ride her! Back to that castle in the sky…yes…” When he’d gone, you lowered your head again and sighed deeply. Carefully, you felt your face and only then realised how awful you must look. “Who did this,” Tommy demanded at once. Polly glared daggers at him, “You did, I presume?” “Me?” “I told you again and again not to use the little ones to run errands. Sending them across half of Birmingham with money in their pockets, and look what happens!” For a moment, Tommy seemed to be speechless. Then he protested, “They’re invisible, Pol. Nobody knows they’re carrying anything.” “This one did,” you interjected, “because he knew who I was.” “How?” “Said he was with Kimber,” you whispered as the memories came back to you, “said he’d put me up against a post and he’d shoot me, like he’d do with you…” In a sudden fit of rage, Tommy grabbed a chair and flung it across the room. Polly snarled at the gesture and then turned to you, “Stay here. This cloth is cold, keep it against your eye, or it’ll turn black in half an hour, and I can’t take you to church looking like that. I just need to have a word with your brother.” You took the cloth and didn’t dare to look at Tommy, who was now being taken away by his aunt like he was ten years old again and in trouble. Aunt Polly closed the door behind her, but you still tried to hear as much as you could. Most of it was lost, but when they started shouting you heard bits like “putting your little sister in danger!” and “this is Billy fucking Kimber, Thomas” and “family first”. At first Tommy protested with “I didn’t know they knew her” and “Kimber is getting weak”, but eventually he shouted out in defeat, “I fucked up, alright? I’ll fix it. I promise.” When they came back, Tommy looked like a dog that’d just been kicked. So he retreated into a corner and started smoking, still sulking a little. Aunt Polly lifted your head up by placing a finger under your chin, “You won’t look pretty for a week, but it’ll heal.” You shrugged, not caring about being pretty at all, and muttered, “I feel like an idiot…” “Why?” your aunt demanded, “because big men decided to go after a small girl?” Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes, as you admitted, “Because I wanted to be brave! In my stories I’m pretty and strong and the hero, but in reality I’m just like a mouse. No one notices me and I’m useless…” “Sweetheart,” Polly softened her voice and crouched down next to you, “Just because you can’t fight like Arthur or John can, doesn’t make you useless. We’re all stuck here, in Small Heath, and there’s nothing pretty about that. But you reading all those books? That’s what’s going to make this easier. You can pretend, and that’s worth more than you’ll ever realise.” You smiled back at your aunt, who always knew what to say to make you feel better. “I’m off to the chemist to get you some powder against the pain,” she kissed the top of your head, “I’ll be right back, love.” After she’d gone as well, you sighed again and dropped the cloth. Her words mattered, of course they did, but it didn’t change the fact that you weren’t happy with yourself at all. For starters, you still couldn’t bear looking at Tommy. “Y/N,” he grumbled, which convinced you even more he was angry and disappointed, “Tell me what they looked like.” “They didn’t wear hats…” Impatiently he waved a hand, “Apart from that. What else?” “I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it all happened fast, Tommy. They had that accent that Kimber has as well.” “Fucking Cockneys…” your brother breathed. “Tommy?” you tried carefully, “I’m so sorry, but I lost the money. I tried to keep it. When they asked I told them to fuck off and then I tried to run and even fight, but they still took it. I’m so sorry…” He held up a hand to silence you and locked eyes with you, “You told them to fuck off?” “Yes, but it didn’t help…” “You actually told them to fuck off?” he frowned, “Usually you’re too shy to even say anything to strangers…” “I was angry,” you explained, “and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Tommy walked over to you and much to your surprise, he was smirking, “So you told them to go fuck themselves, and then you fought them?” “Yes?” “Did you hit any of them?” You thought about it for a second, “I think I kicked one in the balls and hit the other in the face.” His grin grew even wider and he mumbled to himself, “Wait ‘till I tell Arthur about this…” “Why?” you protested, “So he can laugh at me as well?” “No, sweetheart, he’ll be the proudest brother ever. His little sister, who everyone thinks is a little mouse too scared to do anything? She fucking hit a grown man and told them to go fuck themselves. Now that’s a hero in my book!” His laugh was contagious and you had to join in. But soon you became uncertain again and asked, “Are you not upset I lost the money?” “The money’s not important,” his face grew serious again in an instant, “but you are.” “Really?” you whispered. “Yes,” he took your face in his hands, “Listen, Y/N, this is what’s going to happen: Billy Kimber threatened my little sister, so I’m going to put himup against the post, and shoot him.” “And then what?” “Well, what usually happens in your books? Maybe I could learn something from them, eh?” A warm feeling of being appreciated for who you were came over you, “You’d take his kingdom and his skull would be put up on the gates, as a warning for all future enemies.” “That’s fucking dark,” Tommy raised one eyebrow, “But I like it.” “Me too…” you smiled at your brother. “I mean it though, Y/N. Kimber touched you, so I’m going to shoot the bastard. I won’t let anyone fucking go near you again.” And just like that, you felt safe enough again to continue dreaming. *** A few weeks later, everything had turned to chaos, both in the Shelby household as in the whole of Birmingham. Tommy didn’t speak to anyone of what happened to you, he hadn’t even apologized, but he wasn’t like that. He told you he’d fix it, promised you revenge, and that was even better. When the men were counting minutes in front of the Garrison and Billy Kimber’s army arrived, you were sitting at home with a book. You couldn’t really concentrate, because you knew there were too many of them. You pretended some angel would appear to save them all. There’d have to be no bloodshed, because this angel would be on your brothers’ side. That angel came in the form of your older sister Ada. She’d always had flair. In the end, only two bullets were fired. You listened to them both. One killed Danny Whizz-bang. The other killed Billy Kimber. Nobody knew, but as Tommy fired, he didn’t have business on his mind.

As he aimed, he saw his little sister’s face, all bruised and battered.

He whispered, “for Y/N,” and shot.

Bang.

***

Masterlist

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flightless-rising · 3 years

Text

Made a new Flight Rising iceberg and also wrote an explanation.. man, this took way longer than it should have.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy :D

Iceberg explanation

( If there are any mistakes please let me know and I’ll edit this asap. Also, English isn't my first language so please forgive me for any grammatical errors)

EDIT 28/06: Added some new info! Thanks to everyone who tagged and responded with new stuff to add, I really appreciate it!

The Sky

Naomi

Back in the day, whenever you bought or sold something on the auction house a message would show up in your inbox confirming the transaction. These messages were sent by one of the dragon couriers: Pearl, Spitfire or Edgar.

On January 2016, a strange glitch occurred that replaced the images and names of couriers with the ones of a female fae named “Naomi”.

It goes deeper than that, though: if you looked up her name in the user search menu, a clan would pop up with over 15 million dragons.

It was quickly discovered that all exalted dragons had somehow become part of her clan. Naomi herself apparently didn’t exist, and clicking on her page redirected to an error page. This was later fixed and the original Naomi page can be now visited.

What exactly caused this glitch is still a mystery and today Naomi is still a well-known piece of Flight Rising history.

Missing Tidelord

In the official lore, the deity of the water flight disappeared in early 2018, as described in the short story “Hear Today, Gone Tomorrow”.

In the follow up story (Mixed Elements) posted in April of the next year it is confirmed that the Tidelord is still missing, but alive. This coincides with the fact that the Tidelord account hasn’t made any forum posts aside from festival announcements.

Emperors

Emperors are a type of unobtainable dragon that are formed when several Imperial corpses are left in close proximity to each other, which then fuse forming a multi-headed chimera.

Emperors are described in the lore as having an animal-like behavior and destroying everything in sight. They are extremely difficult to kill, which is the reason why in-universe Imperials have such strange burial rites.

An emperor named Luminax is first described in the Raising a Family short story, and their sprite can be seen walking around on the world map.

The Surface

Old color wheel

Originally, there were only 67 available colors for dragons. On June 8th 2016, 110 more colors were added, meaning that currently there are a total of 177 colors available.

When making a custom progenitor dragon, it is only possible to choose among the 67 original colors because it would be otherwise unfair for those who made their account before the new colors were added.

Imperial breed scrolls

Imperial breed change scrolls are one of, if not the most, rare type of item on the site. They were given only to those who pledged 30 dollars or more on the original Flight Rising kickstarter.

At the time, this was the only way of obtaining an Imperial dragon, which meant that the breed as a whole was pretty valuable. Now that Imperials are abundant this is no longer the case, but First generation Imperials are still extremely sought and probably the most expensive type of dragon on the site.

There were also other items that were only given to Kickstarted backers, namely Skycats, Bonefiend, Golden Idol and Cogfrog familiars, and those are also pretty much impossible to obtain.

Baldwin breed change

When Baldwin was introduced in 2015 he was originally a Pearlcatcher. On September 14th of 2016 however his site art started to gradually change, until his transformation was completed five days later.

In-universe, Baldwin started to change after a lightning strike hit his cauldron during an experiment, which made him slowly mutate into the breed we now know as Bogsneaks.

Trans Fiona

When Fiona was added as a trading post dragon people speculated that she was trans, because the female pose for Skydancers only displays two antennae, while the male one has four.

Since Fiona has four antennae in her site art, many wondered whether it was an oversight or actually intended. Aequorin later confirmed in a forum thread that Fiona is indeed trans.

Boolean

Speaking of rare items, the Boolean familiar was only given to a handful of Flight rising beta testers and as such is extremely rare and valuable.

Plaguebringer coli team

On the Plaguebringer’s page she is listed as being part of a coliseum team.

As of now we have no clue as to why this is, and even more strangely she is the only deity that does this.

Boston & Hope

This story is a bit complicated. I’ve scoured the forums in search of info but it seems like there are still some pieces missing. I’ll try my best to explain anyway.

So, for a long while the Lightweaver was the only deity that had other dragons aside from herself in her lair: these dragons were a Spiral named Boston and a Tundra named Hope. Strangely, they were both Earth dragons and apparently have been there since the beginning (?). When asked why (this happened back when deities would interact on the forums) the Lightweaver responded that they were having a dinner party together.

In August 2014 during a pretty heated dominance battle between Shadow and Light Boston and Hope disappeared from the Lightweaver’s lair.

The Shadowbinder now had them, and both their elements were alsochanged to Shadow. The two deities acknowledged this and changed their broadcast messages accordingly.

If I had to guess this was some kind of inside joke that the admins had, although some people got angry that the Shadowbinder now had both Hope and Boston. Some time later(?) Boston was returned to the Lightweaver and for some reason his element was changed to wind.

I don’t have any more info on the matter but if some of you do I would appreciate it if you tell me.

Shallow Waters

Eyepocalypse

On June 8th 2018 eye type variants were introduced. This update was pretty controversial for a bunch of reasons, and the topic is still discussed today. The majority of people(?) seemed to be upset by the fact the “best” eye types (primarily goat, primal and multi-gaze) could only be displayed on dragons that were born with them, and the fact that every dragon born prior to the update couldn’t have these eye types at all displeased a lot of users.

Another problem was the fact that most of the non-special eye types (i.e the only ones that could be applied to already existing dragons using a vial of Scattersight) were not clearly visible on the grand majority of adult dragons.

A smaller(?) complaint was that two of the primal eye types, Shadow and Plague, were seen as kind of disturbing by some people.

Three years later staff attempted to fix this issue by adding Eye type vials for every available eye type. This resulted in a market crash for special eye typed dragons, as now these eye types could be applied to any dragon. The value of Scattersights also tanked, and the people bought them and hadn’t used them yet lost money as now they were infinitely less useful.

EDIT 28/06: Goat isn’t actually obtainable via breeding, faceted is. Bad mistake on my part.

Also, Scattersights were given away freely by Galore on Flight Rising’s fifth anniversary in 2018 and could not be bought afterwards. I admit that I thought people could be able to buy Scattersights due to how upset people were that the value went down, but whatever.

Courier Breed

The courier dragons (Edgar, Spitfire, and Pearl) are part of an exclusive dragon breed that is currently unobtainable. Even though their eye color still reflects the flight they were born in, in-universe they are considered to be “neutral” and they are granted free access to all domains. This raises the question as to which deity created them, as every other dragon breed (Bogsneaks being the only exception) has been created by one of The Eleven.

Multiaccounting

According to the site’s terms of service, no one is allowed to have more than one account. This is pretty standard for pet sites, as having multiple accounts grants unfair advantages and can mess up the site economy. This doesn’t completely stop people for having more than one account, and the practice as a whole is called “Multiaccounting” or “having multis”.

Some people only do this to have multiple clans or reboot their account without deleting their old one. They mostly do no harm but it is reasonable that the site wouldn’t allow this because of how easy it is exploit.

The real harm of multis comes from a practice called “funneling” which is when someone creates multiple accounts only for the purpose of giving items to their main account. This practice violates the game’s rules and can result in a ban. Funneling is not limited to multiaccounting though, and having an account only to feed another is against the site’s rules whether or not the account in question belongs to another person or not.

Some people fear of being banned for multiaccounting even if they haven’t done so, especially if they share a computer with other people.

Purble

“he purble” is probably among the most famous Flight Rising memes.

In 2016(?) a rant was submitted to the original Dramarising blog by a very angry user that wanted to buy an XXX Purple Ridgeback back when triples were pretty expensive, but got beat by someone else.

I’m not going to copy paste it here because in my opinion it’s one of the funniest Flight Rising related posts ever and I don’t want to spoil the experience of reading it for the first time. You can find it pretty easily by searching it up.

Tert Picking

This is something that refaced recently, even though I’ve seen people talking about this for a while. Some people vividly remember being able to pick their custom progenitor’s tertiary color, even though the developers have made it clear that such thing would be impossible. This is without a doubt just one of those weird situations where a lot of people somehow remember the same thing wrong.

Still, it’s fascinating just how many people claim to remember doing picking their tert.

Swiftwings

Swiftwings were a dragon breed that was scrapped in development. The design was rejected because it didn’t fit the 2 arms 2 legs 2 wings format that every dragon design had to follow before the introduction of ancient breeds.

The reason for this rule is that otherwise it would mess up apparel placement. Although the concept was scrapped, echoes of the design were scattered throughout the site: for example, the empty dragon slots that were present prior to 2019 had the silhouette of a Swiftwings dragon. They are also mentioned in the April Fool’s update of 2018.

“Real” Lore dragons

Most people don’t know that some of the dragons featured on the lore stories are actually real, and you can visit their pages. This is the case for Tetra, Cracklinne, Velya, Liefa, Garote and Mirth, which are currently chilling in Aequorin’s lair.

All of the other dragons in the developers’ lairs are not canon and are used to test bugs and features on the site.

The Middle ground

True deity names

When the site first started the deities used to have actual names instead of titles. Some of these names were based off of the site founders’s usernames on other sites.

The names are the following:

Amogayvhi - Gladekeeper Xhaztol - Arcanist Rhenik - Tidelord Akiri - Flamecaller Thrage - Stormcatcher Undel - Shadowbinder Jhortanas - Plaguebringer Ghurab - Windsinger Artaios - Earthshaker Rhiow – Lightweaver

As you can tell, Xhaztol, Akiri, Thrage and Undel are the usernames of some of the admins of the site, and the flight they are a part of corresponds with the previous name of their deity.

No leg coatls

On January 16, 2015 an iconic thread was posted in the flight rising discussion forum, which displayed a photoshopped image of a coatl with its legs removed. Quickly the thread devolved into a general photoshop thread were people took official site art of dragons and modified it.

The thread was eventually locked due to spam and quote pyramids, but spiritual successors of the original “phoatlshop” thread still exist today.

Dress slot unlocking

A thing that a surprising amount of people don’t know is the fact that when buy an additional apparel slot, the slot opens for every dragon in your lair and not just the one you bought it on.

This is something I also discovered very recently and it’s kind of funny that so many people that have been on the site for very long don’t know this.

Clanbound scatterscrolls

I think the wiki explains it best, so I’ll just copy paste this here:

“Tri-Color Scatterscrolls suffered from an issue where they would only scatter a random range from colors 1-47 (white through sunshine) rather than 1-67 (white through rose). They have been fixed and are now functioning correctly with a random range within the 67 color set. The affected timeframe was from August 15th, 2013 until September 22nd, 2013. The admins allowed users who were unsatisfied with their bugged Tri-Color Scatterscrolls to receive the same amount of them back in the form of Clanbound Scatterscrolls to try scattering their own dragons again with the full color range.”

Beta Mirrors

Ever wondered why they’re called Mirrors?

According to Undel, the main artist of Flight Rising, mirrors originally were supposed to have every part of their body “mirrored”, meaning they had two sets of eyes, two pairs of wings, two tails, and so on.

This design ended up being too cluttered and looked weird shrunken down. The name was kept the same, even though the only mirrored part of the design are the eyes.

Dragons are evil

If you read the “Beastclans on the rise” lore bit, the dragons come across as… very evil, stealing territory from the beastclans when they have been living on Sornieth way longer than the dragons have and killing them for loot.

Furthermore, in the Bounty of the Elements lore bit the Beastclan rebellion guided by Talona is seen by the dragons as unreasonable and wrong even when in canon Beastclans are framed as the innocent party.

The Depths

Scroll of Divorce

In the alpha stage dragons were supposed to be monogamous and could only breed with the dragon they were “paired” with. To break their bond you had to use an item called “Scroll of Divorce” which even featured broken marriage rings in the art.

If I had to guess, this item and the concept as a whole were scrapped because the idea of dragons having “weddings” and needing to divorce before breeding with another dragon felt kind of weird, especially in a game targeted towards teens.

First Festival

The first Holiday festival in Flight rising history was the 2013 Brightshine Jubilee. The items that were available for this festival only are incredibly rare, particularily the Light Sprite which is one of the most valuable items on the site. Apart from that and the fact that the skincent contest only had 6 winners, not much is notable about it.

Offsite drama

Flight Rising has had its fair share of drama both on and off site, but due to the fact that it’s against the site’s rule to discuss user drama on the forums most of the notable drama happened off site (mainly tumblr).

Egg rot

Egg rot was a very early mechanic that was pretty quickly removed from the site. If you forgot to incubate your eggs, they would “rot” and no longer hatch.

It’s the reason why in the nesting grounds the text reads “Eggs healthy” and also the reason why on the stats section of the Account settings it says “Eggs discarded”. The mechanic was removed because it heavily punished casual players and the frequent downtimes of the site meant that even if someone logged in every day they could still have their eggs die.

Also, the images of egg rot look extremely cursed.

Pablo

From what I could gather, Pablo is a dragon which became somewhat popular after user “Desmondtiny” wrote a very long and detailed backstory of them being the Arcanist’s lost boyfriend.

I’m pretty sure it gues deeper than that but I couldn’t find any further information. As usual, if you know something more let me know.

Latest News

On November 12, 2014, a glitch(?) occurred that let anyone post in the Announcements thread. Anything that was posted went directly to the front page, which resulted in quite a bit of chaos.

This was fixed only half an hour later, but the screenshots people have from that time are extremely funny.

Lameforger

On the 2014 Flameforger’s festival announcement Undel accidentally misspelled “Flameforger” as “Lameforger”, which prompted the official account of the Flamecaller to respond aggressively. Lameforger is still jokingly used by users, even after the typo was fixed.

Festival of one (1)

On the first day of the 2014 Greenskeeper Gathering a glitch occurred which switched the site banner for the Starfall celebration banner instead of the Greenskeeper one.

It didn’t end there, in the coliseum Magical shards dropped instead of Bladed Flatleaves, even though skin chests dropped as normal(?).

The weirdest thing about it all was Joxar’s Space inventory, which didn’t display any items at all and had glitched dialogue.

The event was nicknamed by the fanbase “Festival of 1” and even the deity’s official accounts acknowledged the incident.

Vape Juice

As far as I know the original forum thread as been lost, but the vape juice fiasco will always remain cemented in Flight Rising History.

A company called Vape Daugz was making vape juice with Flight Rising dragons plastered on their packaging, completely violating the site’s policy.

The company’s site still exists, and browsing through their products I found that the products that previously had Flight Rising dragons on them still exist, but now feature completely different packaging.

I have no idea whether they changed the packaging spontaneously or staff did something about it.

I think there’s a potentially interesting story buried down there, but we’ll likely never the truth behind the Flight Rising vape juice.

The Abyss

Humans

There’s been some speculation over the years as to whether or not humans are canon in the Flight Rising universe. Some people believe that the “Mages” of the second age in the official lore are actually humans, but we can’t be sure because they are depicted with long robes that cover their whole bodies.

The idea of humans existing in canon has spawned a couple of memes, most infamously Thomas.

Plague healers

Again, I think the wiki explains this one better:

“According to Aequorin, Plague healers are an interesting bunch because rather than administer treatments that counter illness, they use a mixture of magic and contagion that stress the affected dragon further, allowing them to reach a stronger, healed, and resistant state faster than other elements. Plague healers will treat physical injuries with sutures, bandages, and braces, but they won't clean the wounds or apply ointments."

Akitla

As described in the original thread, Akitla was a dragon that user “qunii” saw on the front page, but noticed that she wasn’t accompanied by the username of the person owning them.

After clicking on her, an error page loaded. It was discovered that putting her color combination or ID in the search bar would result in an error page. This was later fixed, and both Akitla and her mate were now displayed as being exalted to the Arcanist. T

here are some theories as to what happened to the Akitla’s user, some think that she belonged to a deleted account, others that it was the result of an incomplete account creation.

As with a lot of things on this iceberg, it will likely remain a mystery forever.

Arcane sprite book

“what is the arcane sprite reading??” is probably one of the oldest still active threads on the forums.

On September 25, 2013 user “Kaadashi” started a joke thread were they wondered what exactly is the arcane sprite reading, and playfully suggested that it could be erotic fanfiction. People went crazy of course, and started to wonder what kind of juicy secrets were hidden within the pages of that book.

I don’t want to say too much because I really don’t want to spoil the experience of reading through this very cursed tread.

Sunshine

Sunshine is one of the most… interesting lairs on the site, and certainly one of the most well-known.

They(?) have a lair (almost) completely full of triple basic sunshine dragons, most of which are Tundras. So far they have collected about 320 triple hundred Sunshine dragons, almost all of which are also named “Sunshine”. They’re not all the same, some of them have apparel, some of them are gened and some have unique art and descriptions.

They’re dedicated and I respect that.

EDIT 28/06: Apparently some people seem to think that the sunshine-dedicated lair is based on a meme concerning the announcement of the color wheel expansion, which became so discussed that the itself site broke. The two things are unrelated however, as the Sunshine lair has been around for much longer.

The announcement of the color wheel expansion was cryptic, with only a few post showing off differently colored coatls and then 3 pages of reserved posts, with no explanation whatsoever.

Simple Farmer

Another very famous thread is the “I am but a simple farmer” thread started by user “someKindOfGenius”. It’s not really about anything specific, it’s just a rather silly thread were people photoshop flight rising dragons onto various crops.

Still, this thread is iconic so I had to include it.

Dragon Deaths

Way back in 2014 former flight rising programmer Thrage revealed on a forum thread that way back before the beta, dragons could actually starve to death if left unfed.

Yep.

Obviously they had to remove this mechanic because it would have been extremely harsh to casual players and make people frustrated with the game.

Zalvador

User “manojalpa” became fairly well-known for the extremely dark lore they(?) had written for their Clan, it was so dark in fact that every single one of their dragon’s bios had to moved to their tumblr where they couldn’t be easily seen by the site’s mainly underage usebase.

Their lore centered around their progen dragon, a tundra named Zalvador, which behaved and had the same powers as a flight rising user: buying dragons off of the action house, having “breeding projects”, exalting dragons, etc.

These things seem pretty normal when done by a player, but when taking them as actual real things that happen in universe… yeah, it was way too morbid for the site.

The Pit

Black linen neck wraps

For some weird reason, the apparel piece “Black linen neck wrap” when put on a male pose Coatl wraps around the dragon’s throat instead of it’s neck. It’s kind of subtle and hard to see, but if you compare it with the female pose the difference is clear. This is probably just an art error, although it’s weird that it hasn’t been fixed yet, since linen wraps are a very old piece of apparel.

Another weird thing about linen wraps in general is that the wing wraps just sort of… go through the membrane? This is not possible. These dragons are in pain.

Icewarden ears

Another very remarkably popular thread is the Icewarden ears thread.

In 2014 user “Llanai” simply makes note of the fact that the Icewarden has teeny tiny ears.

As we have come to expect from these threads, it quickly devolved into nonsense.

Forbidden Snapper lore

Snappers used to have a way different lore section that was changed because it deemed too similar to the lore of another petsite.

This is what the original section read:

"Snapper dragons do not sleep, but exist in a constant state of reverie. They receive and catalogue all experiences and stories told within their dreams. This persistent state of awakened dreaming awards them the longest memory of any dragon species. They are living encyclopedias, and any dragon who is seeking difficult-to-obtain information will have the most luck unearthing it from a Snapper clan - provided they have the patience for it. If you want two dozen quick answers, talk to a spiral. If you want a fully developed answer, camp out around a Snapper. These dreamers move at their own pace, which varies from dragon to dragon. For some, the awakened dream can prove to be more interesting than their surroundings. This leads to a focus upon the dream, and the waking world as filtered background noise. Interacting with these sleepwalkers can be a trying and repetitive task. Other Snappers may be fairly lucid, with a focus upon their surroundings and the constant hum of the dream pushed aside."

Bee movie script

I’ve seen this story around the forums a few times but I’ve never been able to learn the details.

From what I’ve heard someone copy pasted the entire bee movie script into their clan bio in a drop down text format, which completely broke the page for anyone who visited it. This was fixed, apparently, although I have no clue as to who this user is.

EDIT 28/06: Zeus

Zeus is an XXX gold g1 permababy imperial that used to belong to user "happywing".

Their account is now locked because Zeus was created with the use of a duplication glitch on an imperial breed change scroll, which is obviously not allowed (although I've heard some people say that the dragon was hacked in altogether). Before the account was locked, people speculated that Zeus was the most valuable dragon on the site, because an XXX g1 imperial is impossibly rare.

Wegg shaming

On July 2017 user “Dreamnorn” made a thread were they(?) claimed to have a dream where everything was the same except people used the term “wegged” when two dragons would lay only one egg in a nest.

Ex. Aw man! I’ve been wegged again! = Aw man! I bred two dragons and they only had one egg!

The dream ended up being prophetic, as the term catched on and people started to use it unironically.

The practice of “Wegg shaming” I think refers to the trend of people posting pictures of the dragons that “wegged” them in order to “shame” them.

Plague nest skull

The site art of the plague nest features an unique dragon skull that doesn’t match with any currently existing dragon breed or creature: It appears to have two sets of eyes, like a mirror, but also long and curled horns.

It’s probably just for decoration and it likely doesn’t have any significance whatsoever, but personally I believe it would be pretty cool if when they eventually release plague ancient it at least somewhat resembled this skull.

EDIT 28/06: On second thought, the skull doesn’t seem to have two pairs of eyes, It just has the generic shape of a carnivore.

Rock bottom

CAPTAINPLANET

…this is CAPTAINPLANET. Somehow, user “Decres”' managed to overlay a Fae skin on top of a Tundra, creating this horrifyingly fascinating abomination.

I have no idea how she did this, and she seems pretty adamant to tell.

EDIT 28/06: People have pointed out that this skin overlay glitch was actually somewhat common (although I still haven't found another dragon like CAPTAINPLANET). What you had to do was breed change a dragon while attaching a skin to them in another tab.

This glitch has been patched and such thing is no longer possible.

Lair 46264

A cursed lair.

Dreams

I’ve seen a lot of people, both on forums and on Tumblr, sharing dreams they had about Flight Rising.

A lot of people dream of just being on the site, while occasionally weird things happen.

I’ve read of people who dreamed the distribution of a new breed, buying an exclusive item, a new Fiona feat or Swipp trade, or just browsing the forums.

The most common type of Flight rising-associated dream I’ve seen however is being caught multiaccounting and having their account banned.

I’m no psychoanalyst, but I think it’s pretty clear that these nightmares stem from the paranoia of being banned from their beloved petsite instead of showing any actual intention of doing the “crime” in question.

Anyways, I think it’s fascinating how so many people dream about this site, and it reminds me of the dreams people claimed to have about Mario 64 where completely new levels were added or a scary monster appeared.

Dragon Slime

Dragon Slime was an infamous thread which was supposed to be start off point for an ARG.

It was deleted because it was considered too “spammy” and also because ARGs are banned from the forums. The thread has been lost, unfortunately.

EDIT 28/06: Thanks to @randompurple-fr for providing screenshots of the dragon slime tutorial! You can find them here

Cucumber

Cucumber is the only dragon ever to have been exalted with a skin, which is something that should not be possible. This raises some questions as to what exactly did the person that exalted them do to achieve this, but we have no way of knowing who Cucumber belonged to.

EDIT 28/06: Actually, we do know who used to Cucumber belonged to! Its owner was Osiem: an official flight rising artist. I couldn’t find the thread where they(?) acknowledged the glitch though, if someone has it please let me know!

#flight rising #fr #flight rising meme #iceberg meme

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jedipoodoo · 2 years

Text

Sweep Him Off His Feet (Sergeant Hunter x OC)

Hunter (and the others) get a bit of a surprise from Saachi

@dilpickledd @the-shadow-of-atlantis (tough you guys have already read this 😁) @twinkofthedink @queenquazar

Something to sate my desire to post while I'm prepping for finals ✌️

"Go, go, go!"

Saachi's feet hit the ground in time with each order from Hunter as she ran. She paused briefly to fire back over her shoulder. She managed to hit one police droid in the shoulder and the other clean through the head, to which she gave a whoop of delight.

"Aw yeah!" Wrecker cheered with her, slowly backing towards the ship with the treasure tucked securely under his arm.

Tech was firing up the ship, Echo stood on the ramp with the cover fire as the engines roared, and Hunter was right beside her. Where was Omega?

Omega was too focused on shooting down the police droids to think about making it to the ship. The purple plasma blasts exploded each droid on impact, but they were still getting close.

"Omega, come on!" Saachi let out a volley of blaster fire as the Droids approached, and swung Omega up onto her hip.

"Hey!" Omega squirmed in resistance, but Saachi held her close.

"Time to go!" Saachi ran for the ship with Hunter covering her back.

"I can run by myself!" Omega said as Saachi dropped her on the floor of the ship.

"I know you can, but you weren't," Saachi scolded. The ramp slammed shut behind them, and they took off.

Omega fumed as she sat in one of the seats against the wall, and everyone braced themselves for the jump to hyperspace.

Once Tech made the jump, they all relaxed and took stock post-battle. Echo removed his scomp to adjust the settings, and Hunter and Wrecker secured the treasure Cid had sent them to find.

Saachi stretched out her arms, rolling her shoulders back and cracking her neck. Omega continued to pout in her seat, though she knew she wouldn't win an argument. She seemed to be settled on giving Saachi the Silent Treatment as punishment for dragging her from the fight.

Saachi sighed, massaging the sore spot in her neck. It had been a year since they had escaped Kamino for the first time, and Omega was starting to grow up. Saachi didn't pick her up as much anymore, and she found herself missing it.

"Hey," Hunter said softly, his hand brushing against her shoulder, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Saachi smiled up at him, "Just a little sweaty."

"You do kinda smell," Hunter's nose wrinkled, and she shoved his hand away.

"Thanks," She rolled her eyes, "I'm gonna use the 'fresher."

Alone in the small, meter-by-meter square, with the seat of the vac tube digging into the back of her knees. She squinted into the spotty mirror, dotted with water stains and who knew what else. She yanked on a curl that fell in front of her nose, pulling it as far as it would stretch before it popped back into place. All of her hair was greasy. She'd have to beg Cid to let her use enough hot water for a round of showers once they got back to Ord Mantell.

Saachi removed her medical jacket, sighing and wincing at several tense muscles. The jacket had been one of three she wore during her classes on Kamino. Now, the only one she had left, it sported various stains from multiple injuries, mysterious food spills, and sweat stains on the pits. She ran the sleeves under cold water first, then rinsed with warm water and a squirt or two of hand soap. That would have to do.

She wrung out the water, and felt something stretching in her arms that she usually didn't.

She glanced at her bicep, massaging the skin. It didn't feel nearly as soft and malleable as she thought it would. It was tense and firm, like muscle. She flexed her arm in the mirror.

"Huh," She adjusted her glasses to see better. She glanced between the muscle on her arm, and the reflection in the mirror.

"How did that happen?"

The door to the fresher slid open, and Saachi braced her hands against the doorway, glancing around the hold. Omega was still sulking, though Wrecker was doing his lifts with Gonky and trying to make her laugh. Echo sat at the navicomputer, talking with Hunter about their mission while Hunter compared notes on his datapad.

Smirking with the beginnings of an idea in her mind, Saachi left her jacket hanging on the sink to dry and strolled out into the hold in her tanktop.

Approaching him from behind, she wrapped her arms around Hunter's waist.

"Hello, what's this?" He asked, a grin peering over his shoulder at her. She'd managed to pull his attention from the datapad.

"Testing a theory," She said innocently, squishing her cheek against the back of his chestplate.

"By all means, go ahead." Hunter chuckled.

Saachi laughed along before squeezing his waist tighter and lifting him up into the air.

"Woah!" Hunter's legs flailed about for purchase as Saachi stumbled back a couple steps before setting him back down again.

Echo had the biggest grin on his face as he looked between them. Saachi and Hunter both wobbled as they tried to find their balance again. Saachi was giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush, and Hunter's face was flushed as his jaw hung open, his eyes not leaving her.

"How'd you do that!?" Wrecker asked, all but dropping Gonky on the floor.

Still giddy, Saachi couldn't do much but shrug and smile at Wrecker and the others. "I've been working out?"

"She has been exercising. I imagine that in her attempts to keep up with us, Saachi has started to grow stronger and faster. Omega too, I'd wager." Tech said, recording the whole thing on his datapad.

"You have a point," Saachi breathed deeply, letting the air fill her lungs, "Sorry," She apologized to Hunter, though she couldn't hide her unapologetic grin behind her hand.

Hunter shook his head, "It....It's fine," He mumbled, turning back to the holoscreens.

"Ha!" Echo laughed, and shoved Hunter's shoulder with his scomp, "She's stronger than you are, Sarge!"

"Being able to pick him up is different from being stronger than him, and I could only do it for a few seconds," Saachi said, though no one seemed to pay attention.

"Lemme see!" Wrecker stood over Saachi eagerly, gently holding her arm in his fingertips.

Saachi turned shy under Wrecker's expectant gaze. Wrecker's muscles were certainly much more impressive compared to her own, but all the same he gasped appreciatively.

"You're not so little anymore, Little Lady!" He said approvingly, patting her on the back.

Saachi snorted, and pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"Can I see?" Omega asked, tantrum forgotten. Saachi flexed again for Omega to see, missing the way Hunter gazed at her back as Omega leaped up and hooked her arms around Saachi's the way she always did with Wrecker.

Saachi was pleasantly surprised that she didn't even stumble under Omega's weight.

"Who says nerds can't be strong?" She said, chest puffing out.

"I was unaware that was a stereotype," Tech shrugged. The entertainment finished, he headed back to the cockpit.

"Yeah, Tech's the second-strongest of us all!" Wrecker boasted.

"Huh," Saachi set Omega down again. She looked over at Hunter, but he was thoroughly focused on the conversation he'd been having with Echo.

When the novelty of Saachi's newfound strength had worn off, and Hunter and Echo had finished discussing supplies, Hunter settled into one of the seats in the hold. He stared at his data pad, but his eyes didn't move as he massaged his bottom lip. It appeared to have been split in the fight.

"Hunter?" Saachi approached with moisturizer and bacta spray, "Do you you want some help with that?"

"Oh," Hunter looked down at his glove. There was only a tiny drop of blood, but still. Silently, he scooted over to make room for Saachi to sit next to him.

Her movements were small and controlled as she guided the healing spray. He winced at the sting, and Saachi flinched. Why did she flinch? He always hated the sting that came from the bacta, she knew that.

She applied the moisturizer to his cut and his lips next, but before she could pull her hands away and clean up the materials, Hunter grabbed her wrist loosely, asking her to stay.

"I'm proud of you, you know that, right?" He asked softly, meeting her eyes. "I know that we're not the...not the easiest people to keep up with, but you do fantastic."

Saachi smiled. "Thanks, Sarge."

Hunter let go of her wrist, and his hand trailed down her arm. Cradling her elbow in his palm, his thumb reached up to massage the muscle, taking it in for himself.

"You think you could take me out in one on one?" He asked with a smirk.

Saachi's jaw dropped at the question. "I don't think so?"

"Really?" Hunter mused, "I guess you'll just have to get stronger then."

"Are you volunteering to help me with my weightlifting?" Saachi leaned forward, brushing her nose against his.

Hunter took her chin in his hand. "Cyare, you can sweep me off my feet like that anytime."

#lizart writes #sergeant hunter #the bad batch #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter x oc #tbb hunter x oc #my ocs #saachi gunder #tbb omega #tbb omega & oc

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arvandus · 3 years

Text

The Sound of Silence (18+ Aizawa x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: After once again being stood up for a date at your favorite jazz club, you decide to give up dating entirely in favor of watching and fantasizing about your favorite jazz musician, Aizawa Shouta. You had assumed you’d never meet him face to face. You had assumed that he didn’t even know you existed. You’re about to learn that your assumptions are wrong.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/NSFW; reader wears a sexy black dress (minimally described); minor sexual harassment; slow build; praise kink (if you squint); hand kink (probably); fingering; ‘baby’ petname.

Special Note: A few days late, but here’s my contribution to the BNHarem January Collab ‘Making Beautiful Music’ posted by @kingexpl0sionmurder. It was supposed to be a oneshot, but this particular piece got a mind of its own and will at least have a sequel. If we’re all really lucky, it may become a multichapter series in the far and distant future, when my life is less crazy (I have ideas, ok??). In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 9486

Recommended Song: No specific song at the moment, but this was what I listened to while writing this.

Lesson 1

It was crowded tonight, the air of the small club Midnight hot and heavy with the scent of cigar smoke and booze. The noise of conversations and laughing voices filled the air like the buzzing of a hive, as bodies mingled about like busy bees, each looking for their own bit of nectar. Some looking to win romance. Some looking to win money. While others were simply winning by enjoying the company of friends. Their movements were carried on the music that filled the space, upbeat jazz played by a three-person band. It was comforting in its familiarity, developed over multiple visits – some with friends, some with coworkers, and some with potential love interests.

You sat at the bar, a drink held protectively in your hand as your eyes searched. You checked your phone for messages but found none. It’d been a full twenty minutes and you were pretty sure by this point that your date wasn’t going to show up. It was supposed to be your first date in over a month, and you’d had high hopes for it - you’d clicked well with the person on your dating app (or so you thought), talking over the course of a couple of weeks before finally deciding to meet. So tonight, you’d put in a little extra effort into your appearance, donning a black dress that showed off your curves and putting careful attention into your makeup.

Damn. You were genuinely interested in this one.

You sent them a quick text in the hopes that you’d get a response. Give them an extra ten minutes… You thought. Maybe they were caught in traffic or something.

But by the time you hit the 45-minute mark with no messages, you’d officially given up. A half-hearted sigh fell past your painted lips. You weren’t really too surprised by this point. You’d been having terrible luck in the dating scene for a while now. Sometimes it was them. Sometimes it was you. But for whatever reason, each attempt ended in failure.

Oh well. It was likely for the best. At least you would be able to enjoy the rest of your evening in solitude instead of enduring a potentially disastrous date. And as for your attire, it certainly didn’t hurt to feel sexy, even if you had no one to share it with.

You loved this place. The atmosphere, the music… you’d even managed to make friends with the bartender Hizashi to the point that he’d walk you to your car on the nights that you stayed until closing.

Your eyes scanned around the room, observing. Wooden tables littered the main floor, where small lit candles cast yellow light on observing faces, eyes trained on the musicians. Booths lined along the far wall, filled mostly with men who puffed cigars over a game of cards, their raucous laughter carrying through the din. Closer to the bar was an arrangement of tall, round tables with matching bar height chairs. A group of women, likely on a ladies’ night out, filled the table closest to you, taking shots and laughing, their heels perched on the rungs. Waiters zigzagged their way through the crowd with expert precision, platters held high with drinks and snacks, while patrons milled about, waiting for an open table.

And, of course, there was the stage itself, where the jazz band finished their final piece before collecting their instruments and leaving the small stage. All that was left from their departure was a black baby grand piano, property of the club. Your pulse quickened as you checked your watch. Was it that time already?

Not a moment later, there he was. Long, black, wavy hair pulled back into a half ponytail, the hint of a 5 o’ clock shadow dusting his jawline and framing his lips. He was dressed in simple clothes, as always… a black v-neck shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and dark jeans. He entered the stage without so much a glance towards the busy room, instead making his way to the piano with his hands in his pockets. He sat down and from your position at the bar, you could barely see his long fingers arrange themselves at the keys, gently curled.

As soon as he began to play, the mood in the club shifted slightly from buzzing to relaxing. The flow of his fingers across the keys drew a lazy melody reminiscent of rainy days and hot coffee; of snuggling under warm blankets, feet intertwined with a lover who danced their fingers across your skin, gently tickling your flesh the way his fingers tickled those keys.

Aizawa Shouta.

Of course you knew his name. The first time you’d heard him play, you’d felt weightless, your body going numb as every sensation coalesced into your chest like the forming of a star. The question of his identity had fallen from your lips before you’d even realized it, and it had been Hizashi who’d answered you, a chuckle on his lips.

Fuck. It felt like he was making love to you through the notes, each key meticulously selected like a carefully-worded love letter. It made your palms sweat against your glass, your breath hitching in your throat as that familiar sensation took you over, holding you hostage.

This. This was probably why none of the people you dated ever seemed to work out. You’d tried… God, you’d tried… some of them were nice, good people. But you couldn’t help but search for that feeling – this feeling – each time you met someone new. And every single time it fell short. It was an impossible standard, an invisible bar that no one was able to jump. Deep down you knew this, yet you couldn’t figure out how to let it go. It was just music, right? Played by a handsome man who didn’t even know you existed. But you didn’t want to let go of this feeling, to settle for someone that made you feel only an inkling of what he made you feel. Or worse, to let it go and be left with emptiness.

You had no solutions. You were trapped in Aizawa’s maze of music, unwilling to find your way out as his notes weaved a cage around your heart.

You lost yourself to his melody, the club around you fading away. Time lost its meaning as you watched his hands dance along the keys, his fingers nimble. His half-lidded eyes were fixed on the instrument before him, his expression neutral. To anyone else watching, he would look almost bored; but you’d seen him play often enough that you’d grown accustomed to reading the nuances of his body language, even across the smoky haze. You knew his look of boredom was really a look of focus as he submerged himself in his art, his hands playing on instinct, a direct link between what he felt and what he expressed.

He loved what he did.

And you loved watching.

Hizashi’s voice interrupted your hypnosis. “Another night solo, huh?”

You took a look at the bartender as he prepped some cocktails for some waiting patrons. He had his wire-framed spectacles on again, the orange tinted ones, the color visible from the white backlight of the bar. His long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and he wore a pinstriped shirt adorned with a black waistcoat.

You chuckled and took a sip of your drink. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“You got stood up again?” You shrugged and Hizashi shook his head slightly. “If they ain’t willing to show up, then they ain’t worth your time.”

“Probably more like the other way around, don’t ya think?” you replied wryly.

Hizashi scoffed. “Don’t let them get to you. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

You grinned and set your glass down. “Are you flirting with me, Hizashi?”

He grinned back and winked at you through his spectacles. “Always, darlin’.”

You chuckled and returned your eyes to the stage. “It’s okay…” you said thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time I stopped trying.”

“Mhm…” Hizashi watched you stare at Aizawa and he raised an eyebrow. “Y’know, I can get you an introduction if you’d like…”

“What??”

“Don’t play coy with me, darlin’. You know who I’m talking about. If you want to meet him, I can introduce you to him. We’re good friends, he and I. Known each other for years.” He commented.

You weren’t surprised by this news… you’d seen Aizawa join Hizashi at the bar on rare occasions after his performance was done. But you’d always been occupied at a table with company when it happened.

Watching him from a distance was one thing. But actually meeting him? Up close? Where you couldn’t hide your girlish infatuation?

You felt your pulse quicken with dread, heat flooding your body. “No, it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him.”

Hizashi gave you a skeptical look over the rim of his glasses before he shrugged. “Suit yourself, darlin’.”

The blonde stepped away, a new group of customers hollering for his attention. You took a large gulp of your drink hoping it would quell your nerves at the thought of meeting the man on stage. No. You definitely didn’t want to meet him. The last thing you needed was for your interaction with him to be a dud just like it was with all the others, destroying your own secret little fantasy. He was handsome to look at. And you fantasized about his skilled hands when you were in the quiet of your bedroom. But that was all it was; just harmless daydreams over someone you didn’t really know or plan to get to know. Besides, if you’d ever thought you had a chance with him, you certainly wouldn’t be trying to meet people through a dating app.

Gradually the time ticked by as you enjoyed watching the dark-haired man play, Hizashi stopping in to check on you from time to time and place fresh drinks in front of you. You were content for the time being, enjoying the steady buzz you were maintaining as you enjoyed the ambiance. Occasionally you people watched or engaged in conversation with Hizashi when he wasn’t busy… but for the most part, you relaxed as you observed the raven-haired pianist, letting his music ease the tension in your shoulders as the alcohol warmed your bones.

A few hours later, as you were busy talking with Hizashi, the final note on the piano rang out, signaling the end of Aizawa’s shift. The sudden silence hit you like a bucket of ice water, and your eyes darted towards the stage, your heart pumping panic through your veins. You had planned to leave just before his shift ended, just to make sure you didn’t run into him. Maybe it was the daydreaming, or the conversations with Hizashi, or the alcohol... but you’d lost track of time. Now you could only watch and wait to see where he’d end up, hoping beyond hope that he’d disappear like he usually did. Only rarely did he linger for a drink. What were the odds, right?

Tonight was one of those rarities, and you held your breath, your posture going rigid, as he sat himself a mere two seats away from you. He never once looked at you, instead, addressing Hizashi.

“Old Fashioned.” He requested, his voice deep. It sent a shiver down your spine as the blood in your veins turned molten. You knew instantly that that sound was now committed to memory.

“Do you even need to ask?” Hizashi replied with a grin as he slid the drink to him.

You disciplined your eyes to stare at your own drink as if it’d open up a portal for you to escape through. But as much as you struggled to control yourself, the simple gesture of Aizawa reaching for his drink made you break eye contact with your own. Your eyes caught how his fingers circled around his glass, long and surprisingly manicured. You couldn’t help but watch as he brought the drink up to his lips to take a sip, and from there your gaze followed the curve of his mouth, the stubble that framed it, his jawline, his eyes…

Your eyes made contact with his briefly and you quickly looked back down at your drink, your heart pounding in your chest.

Shit. He caught you staring.

You took a couple of deep swigs, forcing the alcohol down your tight throat, letting the burn of it act as a punishment for your violation. This. This was why you didn’t want to meet him. No words had even been shared yet and you were already making a fool of yourself.

“Long night?” Hizashi asked him. In the background, the next performer entered the stage and began to play, and you couldn’t help but strain your ears over the music to listen for Aizawa’s answer.

“I’ve had worse…” Aizawa replied. “You?”

“Busy, but I’m in good company at least.” Hizashi replied. Your heart pounded in your chest as your fingers tightened around your glass. Your eyes darted up to lock with the bartender’s and you caught him smirking at you, his small, pointed mustache following the curve of his upper lip.

He wouldn’t…

Suddenly another customer called for him from the other end of the bar. “Duty calls, friend. Be back in a sec.”

And just like that, you were left alone with him. Aizawa. Your mind froze as it warred with itself between actually talking with him or grabbing your things and running away. Surely Hizashi would understand, right? And you could always pay back your tab later. You took another deep gulp of alcohol in the hopes that it’d burn away some of your cowardice.

Before you could so much as open your mouth, the unwelcome sensation of an unfamiliar hand on the curve of your back made your body go rigid, every muscle poised to fight. A second later, the scent of hot breath laced in the stench of alcohol choked the air around you as an unfamiliar man slid into the open seat between you and the object of your affection.

“Hey there beautiful…” he slurred. “You’ve been by yourself all night… you in need of some company?”

You covered your hand over your glass and shifted away from him slightly, your demeanor cold. “No.”

“Aw, c’mon doll… don’t be like that…” he grinned. “You don’t come here dressed like that for no good reason…”

The man’s hand was still on your back, its presence making your skin crawl. It made the fog of your buzz lifting slightly, your senses suddenly heightened in the presence of a potential threat. Your eyes searched frantically for Hizashi. He had a way of handling drunken idiots. But he was stuck at the other end of the bar still, a drunk woman trying desperately hard to flirt with him.

You were on your own, and this creep clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer. Your brain started to fabricate worst-case scenarios and planning for them, a million options running through your mind. Screaming. Throwing your drink in his face. A well-placed kick to his shin. Your pepper spray.

Your free hand slipped into your purse, fingers closing around you’re the plastic cylinder. The feel of it gave you a sense of security, even if it might be a last resort. You didn’t really want to use it, especially with Aizawa sitting behind him… you never had to use it before, and you couldn’t guarantee your accuracy, especially in such a tight space.

You watched from the corner of your eye as the man’s free hand reached forward to grasp your own that covered your drink, and your grip around the cylinder tightened, a warning beginning to fall from your lips. But your words were cut short as the man’s hand was suddenly grabbed by familiar, long fingers and bent back at an uncomfortable angle that made the drunk cry out.

“Hey! What the hell?!” the man demanded.

Aizawa took a casual sip of his drink with his free hand while maintaining his grip on the offender, before pinning him with a dangerous glare. “She said no.”

The man’s hand left your back as he struggled to free himself from Aizawa’s grip. “Let go!”

“First you will apologize to her.” Aizawa ordered.

The man sputtered. “For what?!”

You watched in shock as Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. His thumb positioned itself on a digit and began pushing it slowly backward.

“For touching her without permission. For insinuating that her attire makes it acceptable for you to ignore her boundaries. For being a disgusting pig.”

With each statement, he pushed the finger back farther and farther, until the man was buckling to his knees under the pressure in an attempt to alleviate the pain and prevent the digit from breaking.

“Ow ow ow! Okay! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The man begged.

Aizawa held him for a moment longer before finally releasing him. “Good. Now get out.”

The man scurried away until he was out of reach before turning around to glare daggers at him. “Hey, fuck you man!” He shouted. But for all of his drunken bravado, he stormed out of the club clutching his sore hand to his chest, as heads turned to watch him leave.

The hum of voices within the club fell silent for a moment, with only the band continuing their music. After the front door closed, the noise of people chattering slowly returned, countless sets of eyes turning back to their tables. Aizawa turned his gaze back to you, the lethal look gone from his dark eyes.

“You okay?”

You nodded mutely, swallowing the dryness in your throat as your sweaty hand released the pepper spray in your purse. Sensations warred within you, momentarily leaving you a confused mess. The speed at which he came to your defense and his willingness to resort to violence on your behalf fueled a carnal need you didn’t even realize you had. But even as hot arousal pooled deep in your gut, your heart still raced from the threat that had been quickly neutralized.

His eyes caught the movement of something over your shoulder and he cursed. “Shit.”

“SHOuTA!” Scolded a feminine voice.

He turned back to his drink, hunching his shoulders. “I told her not to call me that in public.” Aizawa muttered under his breath.

You spun on your stool to see the owner of the bar, Nemuri Kayama approaching, clad in a deep purple business suit with a dangerously low-cut black blouse. She was next to you in a matter of seconds, a cloud of strong perfume enveloping you as she snatched Aizawa’s drink from his hand as he began to raise it to his lips.

“What the hell was that?!” She demanded. “What makes you think you can attack my customers like that?”

“Your customer was harassing this customer.” Aizawa pointed out.

Nemuri looked at you with her lavender eyes as if seeing you for this first time and paused in her verbal assault.

“Is this true?” She asked you.

She had a presence about her that instantly made you find your voice again.

“He was being handsy and wasn’t taking no for an answer.” You confirmed.

“Can I have my drink back now?” Aizawa asked.

She stared back and forth between the two of you for a moment before slamming the glass down in front of him, half of the contents spilling over the side. “Ugh. Fine. But next time ask for one of my bouncers. Or Hizashi. Or me. Anyone but you.”

Aizawa’s mouth curled with a sly grin as he wiped at the spill with a napkin. “And why is that?”

“Because you scare away customers.” She growled.

Aizawa stared into his drink, swirling its remaining contents. “Well maybe you need better customers.” He took a sip.

“I’ll take whoever is willing to pay. Unfortunately for you, this club doesn’t survive off of chivalry.” She crossed her arms. “Besides… it’s less about losing that drunken idiot and more about losing those who saw you almost break his hand.”

“I wasn’t going to break his hand. I was going to break his finger.” Aizawa said.

You stifled a chuckle with a bite of your lip.

Nemuri rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Don’t try to make it sound like that makes it any better. And you!” She pointed at Hizashi, who had conveniently shown up not a minute before. “You know better than to leave him alone like this!”

“I can either be a bartender or a babysitter, love. I can’t do both.” Hizashi replied as he polished a glass.

Nemuri grumbled under her breath before turning her gaze back to you. “I apologize for Aizawa’s violent behavior.” “Oh I didn’t mind…” you confessed with a small smile, and you could feel Aizawa’s eyes flicker to you briefly.

“And I apologize for the inappropriate customer. Alcohol is no excuse for harassment. I guarantee he won’t be returning to this club any time soon.” She looked at Hizashi. “Get her a fresh drink.”

“Already on it…” He replied, sliding a new glass to you and removing your old one.

She looked back at you. “And your drinks are on the house tonight.”

“Thank you.” You replied.

Nemuri gave a satisfied nod. “Now I need to go schmooze the rest of our frightened patrons, which is exactly how I didn’t want to spend my evening.” With a final glare at the two men, she stormed off, her pointed heels clicking on the hard floor.

You stared at your new drink for a moment, the desire for it lost now. “Hizashi, can I have a glass of water?”

“Sure thing, darlin’.” Hizashi replied and placed a chilled glass in front of you.

You thanked him and took a sip followed by a long, deep breath. Aizawa moved into the now-vacant seat next to you, and you welcomed the closeness. The gesture felt protective, a warning to anyone else who was dumb enough to try their luck with you after that display. Noticing the closer proximity between the two of you, Hizashi quickly made himself scarce again.

“Thank you…” you said to Aizawa as your finger traced patterns into the condensation on the glass.

“It was nothing…” he replied. There was a long silence before he spoke again. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

You looked at him with surprise then. Scared? No. Aroused? Definitely. The dampness of your panties were evidence enough of that, but he certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Not at all.” You confessed. “I actually really appreciate it.”

Aizawa’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if a weight had been lifted.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” you asked. “You were so fast…”

Aizawa gave a small grin. “Piano isn’t the only thing I’m good at…”

You had no difficulty believing that…

“Were you a bouncer or something at one point?” you asked curiously.

Aizawa chuckled. “Yeah, something like that…” he took a swig of his drink, the ice in it clinking. The amber colored liquid was nearly gone now.

His response only gave you more questions, but you forced them down. There was a fine line between being curious and nosey, and you were too worried of crossing it, thus ending your conversation with him.

“You’re a regular here.” He commented.

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement. He recognized you. You averted your eyes away in embarrassment, feeling suddenly exposed, your anonymity blown. How long had he noticed you’d been coming here? Did he know how closely you watched him?

“Yeah.” You confessed, as you took another sip of water. The alcohol next to it was calling to you, promising to ease your anxiety, but you refrained for the moment. You wanted to keep your wits about you while you talked to him.

“No company tonight?” he asked.

Oh. He watched you more closely than you ever realized. You weren’t sure whether you were feeling embarrassed or aroused. Was it possible to feel both?

“Not this time. I got stood up.” You replied.

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet there.” He said, looking into his empty glass.

You gave a dry laugh. “True. I’ve dodged lots of bullets lately.”

Aizawa chuckled. “I believe it…”

Contrary to his outward aloof demeanor, he was nice. You could feel the tension in your body start to dissipate as words came easier.

“If you ever think you want to try a dating app, don’t.” you commented. “It makes for good stories, but sometimes it really makes you want to give up on humanity.”

That earned an honest laugh as he looked at you with a grin. “Well now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. This actually wasn’t so bad…

With amusement, you began to recount some of your more outlandish dating disasters with him, letting him in on the world of online dating from a woman’s perspective. Aizawa listened with quiet interest, making the occasional wry joke or, for the more serious cases, wearing a deep frown of disapproval. He was a good listener, and the conversation flowed easier than you had expected, words falling from your mouth without a second thought. It felt natural. Comfortable. And for the first time in a while, you felt like yourself. After you ran out of stories, Aizawa offered a couple of his own, and you found yourself laughing at his own tales of dating woes. As Aizawa talked, Hizashi stopped by to quietly replace his empty drink before disappearing again, a pleased smile on his face. His brief presence reminded you of your own glass pooling condensation on the paper coaster beneath it, and you returned to sipping its contents, once again finding the buzz you had been enjoying as you listened to Aizawa.

The time passed by as the two of you talked about the stress of dating and relationships. You’d learned that Aizawa rarely dated, but would occasionally have to endure awkward matchups thanks to Hizashi and Nemuri. You learned how much of a private person he was, how he generally avoided dating culture entirely in favor of letting life play out on its own. Everything about him exuded a man of experience and maturity, a man comfortable in his own skin and content with his life. You couldn’t help but admire him as you soaked in every little detail that you’d wanted to know, committing every little bit of information he offered up to memory. He was everything you’d imagined; kind, respectful, and serious with a sly sense of humor that he only shared once he was feeling comfortable.

Once the topic was exhausted, you sighed. “I think I’m done with dating.” You confessed. “I’ll just resign myself to my singlehood.”

Aizawa pinned you with a pensive look. “Is that what you want?”

Something about the tone of his voice made your pulse race with excitement.

“Well… It’s better than being repeatedly disappointed.” You gave him a side glance as you took sip of your drink. “But if the right guy comes along, I wouldn’t say no…”

“Hm… the right guy…” Aizawa muttered as he returned his gaze to his glass.

Your statement was a bold one, filled with invitation. You hadn’t exactly planned for it to come out that way, but it was too late to take those words back now. You quickly tried to turn the topic back to him. “How about you? Any special someone for you?”

He chuckled. “No. No special someone. Not yet, at least.”

The words fell from his mouth like breadcrumbs leading to a secret as he eyed you over the rim of his glass. You felt lightheaded and warm, the tips of your fingers buzzing with numbness. Maybe it was the half-finished drink in your hand. Or maybe it was the look in Aizawa’s eyes that made you feel drunk, the Earth spinning under your feet as you mentally struggled to find some sort of purchase to keep from falling.

Was he…?

Hope held you captive and you suddenly became acutely aware of how close you were to him. Your eyes traced the scruff on his jawline, the stitching of his shirt, the slope of his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. A stray strand of hair had come loose from his half-ponytail and was hanging over his forehead, begging to be touched. Your fingers twitched. If you reached out to tuck it back into place, would he let you?

You couldn’t muster the courage and averted your eyes. You were filled with alcohol and infatuation, you reasoned. Your defenses were down, your judgment potentially impaired… what if you were reading into something that wasn’t there? What if you were wrong?

You watched Hizashi close out a tab for an older couple as you took a sip of your water.

Warmth pressed against your forearm and looked down to see Aizawa’s arm resting against yours. All of your attention honed in on the softness of his shirtsleeve and the warmth of his skin as his hand fiddled with a paper coaster, flipping it over and over with each tap on the counter. The contact was intentional, calculated in its subtle intimacy. It was a silent question… a tentative invitation, absent of assumptions or expectations. Your doubt evaporated like mist and you understood.

He was interested. In you.

Your heart did a somersault in your chest as you sat there, stunned. Time froze as everything that’d transpired throughout the evening flitted through your mind. It was a perfect amalgamation of circumstances, leading to this single moment, giving you the one thing you wanted most. You held your breath as you stood on the precipice, uncertain if your next step would make you fall or let you fly.

You stared at the contact and carefully… slowly… brushed your pinky along the back of his hand. It traced the vein that stood out there, following it to the knuckle. His own hand let go of the coaster his was holding, his own pinky linking with yours in affirmation.

You couldn’t help the elated smile that spread across your face in that moment and when you looked up at him with a shy glance, he had a smile of his own, small and secretive as he stared at your linked fingers. Slowly the rest of his fingers followed, twining themselves into yours until he held your hand, his thumb brushing sensually against your skin. That single action alone was enough to reignite the fire in your loins, your blood racing through your veins from the epicenter of his touch.

Hizashi’s voice crashed through your private, titillating moment. “We’re closing up, lovebirds…”

Your hand pulled away from Aizawa’s on instinct as you looked around the now empty club. Only staff remained, finalizing the last bit of cleanup and arranging the furniture for the next day. How had it gotten so late so fast?

“You want me to walk you to your car?” Hizashi asked, a knowing grin on his face.

In all that had happened that evening, you’d forgotten about that little arrangement. But you weren’t ready to leave just yet…

Aizawa’s voice answered before yours could. “Leave me the keys to the place. I’ll walk her tonight and lock up when we leave.”

“Suit yourself.” Hizashi replied with a shrug. He placed a set of keys on the counter. “Don’t tell Nemuri, though. She’ll kill me.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, friend.” Aizawa replied.

With that, Hizashi gave a small salute, grabbed his coat, and left. You watched, your heart pounding as the door closed behind him, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.

You were alone with Aizawa. Completely and utterly alone.

Your turned back to face him and froze. Aizawa still sat on his stool, but he faced you now with an elbow propped against the counter, and that simple distinction made his presence fill your space. He stared at you, the look in his eyes unfettered now, deep and hungry. “You really do look beautiful tonight.” He complimented.

With the way the words fell from his mouth and curled warmly into your chest like a cat, you believed him. You felt beautiful.

“Thank you.” You said with a soft smile. “You look handsome yourself, Aizawa.”

He took your hand again and slowly began to lean forward, closing the small distance between you. “Call me Shouta.”

You swallowed. “Shouta.” You whispered, feeling the name on your lips.

His dark pupils dilated and you felt his other hand on your jawline, warm, long fingers wrapping towards the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

His lips were warm and soft as his stubble tickled your skin, and you leaned into it fervently, your hands finding their home on his chest. You could feel his toned muscles beneath the black cotton and a purr found its way to the back of your throat. Shouta took it as an invitation, coming off of his barstool to stand between your now parted legs, his arm wrapping itself around your waist as his tongue slid along your lips. You opened your mouth eagerly to taste the bourbon there, to feel the wet muscle dance and slide against your own. Every touch, every taste, every smell enveloped you further and further in the essence that was Shouta until your entire body was singing, teetering on the edge.

Oh God… you were not going to let yourself cum just by kissing him.

You pulled out of the kiss slightly as your hands pressed gently against his chest, and he retreated from you just enough for his eyes to search your face, a silent question in them.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” your words fell pitifully from your flushed, wet mouth, your voice shaky with pent-up arousal.

One second longer. One second longer is all it would have taken…

Shouta’s hand on your back began to rub soft, slow circles. “Would you like some water?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

You nodded, and he kissed your forehead before handing you your glass. You drank greedily before handing it back to him, half-empty.

“Have you ever been kissed like that?” he asked curiously, as he placed the glass back down onto the counter.

You gave a small laugh and shook your head. “No… not like that.”

Your confession left you feeling embarrassed, even as your chest felt it would burst from this latest turn of events.

You kissed Aizawa Shouta.

Actually, he kissed you.

You needed a moment to collect yourself, to process everything you were feeling.

So, you completely changed the subject.

“How long have you been playing piano?” you asked.

Shouta didn’t miss a beat, returning to sit on his stool to give you the space you silently needed. But his hand still held yours, resting on the counter as his fingers twined with yours. It gave you a sense of reassurance, that everything was okay, despite your awkward hesitation.

“My grandpa had one when I was a kid. Used to mess around on it.” He explained. “He finally got me lessons from a guy he knew, and I’ve loved it ever since.”

You smiled as you watched his thumb trace across each of your fingernails. You returned the gesture, tracing the details of his own hand. It was like living a dream, to see them up close and feel them, every fingernail, every vein, even the pads of his fingertips. The number of times you’d fantasized about these hands…

“I always wanted to learn how to play, but my family could never afford lessons.” You confessed. “But my mom used to have all of these old jazz albums, and I used to sit in my room and listen to them for hours.”

“I can teach you.”

Your fingers stopped their tracing. “What?”

“I can teach you.” He repeated.

You shook your head. “Um, no it’s okay… I’d probably be a terrible student anyway.”

“A student can only be as bad as the person teaching them. Follow me.”

Before you could protest further, Shouta’s hand closed around yours and pulled you from your seat. He led you up the steps of the stage and across it until you reached the black piano sitting forlornly in the empty space.

It felt strange being up on the stage, especially with the club being completely empty. The stage light was bright and warm on your shoulders, and the silence sounded different there, affected by the difference in acoustics.

Shouta sat at one end of the black bench and pulled you down by your hand until you were sitting next to him. The bench was small, meant for only one person, so you had to press yourself against him to be able to sit without feeling like you were going to fall off. Even then, it wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, but you endured, if only to be close to him.

He released your hand and began his instruction.

“First thing you should know is how to find middle C. Everything else will center around this.” He pressed the white key with the thumb of his right hand, the note singing out into the empty space. “Then, it’s D, E, F, G, A, B, which brings you back to C. That creates an octave, also known as a scale.” He played each note as he spoke.

“What about the black keys?” you asked curiously.

“Those are the half notes. Don’t worry about those right now.” He arranged his hand back how he initially had it, his thumb on the middle C key.

“Now,” he continued, “First, you must learn how to move your fingers along the keys. Like this.” Shouta demonstrated the motion again, his fingers playing each note slowly in a steady rhythm. “The switch of the fingers is important. It will help you flow quickly and easily without having to watch where your hands are, which will be important for reading sheet music.” He repeated the motion again, the sounds once again ringing out. Then, he removed his hand. “Your turn.”

You bit your lip and placed your hand how you’d seen his arranged and tried. The notes were clumsy, lacking in rhythm and falling together as you forgot in your nervous haze where the switch of the fingers happened. Embarrassment flooded you and you withdrew your hand.

“Don’t expect to get it right on the first try.” He reassured. “Let’s try it again. Try to keep your fingers loose, curved like a bowl.”

Shouta modeled it again. You watched, but your focus was muddled with anxiety, attraction, and likely alcohol. It was a poor recipe for learning, but you knew he was trying to make you feel comfortable, and you didn’t want to turn down his kindness. You arranged your hand back on the keys again and tried again, with little improvement.

“I’m sorry, I…” you stuttered as you clutched your hand in your lap protectively.

His hand covered yours and you looked up at him to see him staring at you with warm patience. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to do this, we can stop.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open as you thought about it. You knew he wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to quit. And sure, you felt silly being so poor at it when sitting next to someone who’s skills you idolized.

But did you really want to stop? How often would you get an opportunity like this?

“No, it’s okay. Keep going, I want to learn.” You replied.

Shouta watched you for a moment longer before he placed his hand back on the keys. “Place your hand over mine.”

You followed his instructions, your hand looking small compared to his. His skin was warm, and it calmed the shaking in your fingers.

“Watch where the fingers land. Feel how they move.” He played the notes, and you could feel the tendons of his hand tense and shift, his fingers rising and falling like a wave.

“It’s like they’re dancing.” You said. “You switch to your thumb on this key… E?”

“Yes.” Shouta replied in approval. “Your turn.”

This time you focused, remembering the feel of how his hand had moved under yours as you played the keys, switching your fingers at the right time. The improvement was noticeable.

He smiled. “Good. Now, for the other hand. You’ll start one octave lower. Can you find it?”

Your arm crossed Aizawa’s chest to press the white key, letting the sound ring out.

“Perfect. Only this time, your pinky will sit on this key, with the others following after.”

You placed your fingers across the white keys. “Like this?”

Shouta nodded. “Now you’ll try the same progression with your left hand. The middle finger will follow after the thumb plays the G note.”

You removed your hand so he could place his own and demonstrate it for you. You followed after him, imitating his actions, but this time your attempt was worse than your first, your hand angled awkwardly due to limited space as you pressed yourself against him.

“That was terrible.” You laughed. “I can’t reach very easily.”

A small mischievous smile formed on Shouta’s lips and he slipped his hand around your waist.

“Come here.” He said.

You didn’t fight him as he pulled you into his lap. His right hand settled itself against your stomach as his legs parted slightly to make room for yours, your knees drawn together between his. The heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of your dress, weaving a tight knot of desire deep in your core that made your body go rigid as you tried to keep yourself from melting against him.

“Is this okay?” He asked, leaning slightly to see your face from his position behind you.

You licked your lips and swallowed, giving a nod. “Y-Yes…” you answered shakily. “Are you okay…? I’m not too heavy?”

Shouta gave a soft laugh. “No. Not at all.” His breath was hot against your skin and you could feel the scratch of his stubble as he spoke, sending goosebumps over your body. “Let’s continue.”

He placed his left hand on the keys again with ease, regardless of how poor his view of the piano was with you in front of him. He knew this instrument like the back of his hand; could probably play it with his eyes closed and never miss a note.

He played the simple notes again, C through B, fingers tip-toeing across the keys as he said their names out loud, helping you to remember them. You watched carefully for where the shift in finger arrangement happened, the middle finger following after the thumb just as he’d described.

“You try.” He instructed, his right arm still wrapped around your waist, holding you close against him. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back now, feel the strength of his body beneath you.

You loved this. The lap-sitting, the lesson, the praise. Each time Shouta praised your improvements it sent a thrill through you from your head down to your toes. To be complimented by him, even for something as simple as pressing a few keys… it only made you want to please him more.

You played the progression of notes with renewed motivation, once again showing improvement from your first attempt.

“Good.”

Your spine straightened against him slightly. The thumb of his hand caressed your abdomen where he held you.

“Now you need to learn to do the same but in reverse, until you’re back where your fingers started.”

You moved your hand away to let him demonstrate and his right hand left your stomach, leaving an ache in its wake. You watched both of his hands play the simple notes up and down, working together with ease. But you knew it was all a ruse… he made it look easy, but if you tried to do the same, you’d fumble clumsily.

“I don’t know about this…” you chuckled.

“It takes practice,” he replied, “until it becomes muscle memory.”

Shouta demonstrated it again, up and down. And again.

You placed your hands over his, wanting to feel the touch of his hands under yours more than the actual pressing of the keys. All you wanted was his arm around your waist again, his hand on your lower abdomen. His touch was tantalizing, and you wanted more of it.

He completed the simple scale progression two more times with your hands on top of his.

“Do you want to try?” he offered.

His hands left the keys to hold you again, his arms wrapped more tightly around you this time. You leaned against him, reveling in being held in his arms.

“I’m going to mess up.” You warned.

“Just take it slow.”

You shook your head a little and let out a small breath, shifting your position in his lap slightly as you leaned forward to focus on the keys. His arms loosened around you, his hands shifting to your thighs.

It was likely an innocent action, intended to give you the freedom to move as you made yourself comfortable. But as soon as the tips of his fingers touched the bare skin below the hem of your dress, that sharp zap of arousal tingled the ends of your nerves, causing you to suck in air and part your knees slightly, your walls throbbing in hopeful anticipation.

It wasn’t intentional. Your body just… reacted. But Shouta noticed instantly.

There was silence at first, his hands still on your thighs, waiting. Finally, he spoke. “Y/N….” his voice was huskier now. “How long has it been since you’ve been cared for?”

Embarrassment flooded through you. Embarrassment at your sensitivity to his touch, embarrassment at the answer to his question... You hesitated a moment before words fell clumsily from your mouth. “I, um… a long time.”

A low hum rumbled from Shouta’s chest as his fingers brushing gently along the inside of your thighs until they dipped just beneath the black fabric. The action was experimental, a testing of the waters, and it brought immediate results. Your thighs widened the slightest bit more as you failed to fight back a whimper, your hands grasping his arms in need. Not a moment later you could feel the growing firmness of his cock begin to press against your backside, despite the restriction of Shouta’s jeans. Shouta’s hands halted again their movement, waiting. He was miraculously under control despite his obvious arousal, and you envied him.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, his voice low.

Of course you did. It was obvious you did. Why else would your legs be parting like the red sea as if he were Moses?

But for some reason, your body language wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear it. A sense of urgency filled you, desperate need driving you. At this point, you’d give him whatever he wanted…

“Yes.” you begged. “Please, Shouta... Please touch me.” You leaned back against him, allowing the angle of your hips to tilt as your hands guided him further beneath the skirt of your dress.

With you draped onto him, your head tilted back, Shouta kissed the curve of your neck as his hands gently gripped the insides of your knees, pulling your legs apart until they were draped over his own. You were open for him now, your skirt hiked halfway up by the spread of your legs.

Your heart pounded in your chest with so much excitement that you could feel your own pulse in your neck and between your legs. This was happening… This was really happening… How many times had you fantasized about this very thing? How many times had you longed for this man, whispered his name on your tongue only to be met by the empty silence? And now here he was, freeing you from the shackles of your loneliness in the best way possible.

Shouta’s hands pushed the fabric up the rest of the way until it was pooled around your hips, exposing your panties. The thin cotton fabric did little to protect your aching cunt from the cold air, and you sucked air through your teeth at the sensation. His fingers traced invisible lines up the inside of your thighs, leaving nothing but singing nerves in their wake that cascaded into a shiver that rolled over your flesh, leaving goosebumps. Your body was already moving of its own volition, hips rolling, eager for Shouta’s fingers yet simultaneously attempting to grind down onto his restrained cock. Your breaths were already coming in hot and ragged, every inch of you frantic for the release that it had been denied all evening.

Shouta gave a low growl, his left hand holding down your hip, halting your movements. “You better stop that…” he warned.

No doubt your girating was making things difficult for him on his end. But you didn’t care. You were an unfettered, horny mess now.

A whine escaped your lips at his restriction. In response, Shouta’s left hand trailed up the length of your body, caressing over your breast before finding its home on your neck. His palm was against your voice box now, his fingers long enough to wrap around your throat and reach your jaw. There was no force in his hold, but it still held power over you, ushering your body into stillness while your chest heaved with heavy breaths.

“Patience.” He whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

Shouta followed up his words with more gentle kisses along your neck, your shoulder… wherever his lips could reach with you on his lap. The feel of his hand on your throat was a reminder of who was in control. But it was also a promise - a promise to ensure your needs would be met.

Once Shouta was sure he had your compliance, his right hand travelled the remaining distance of your inner thigh to arrive at your panties, where moist heat greeted him.

A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your back. “You’re so wet.”

A pitiful “yes” was all you could muster before the tips of his fingers brushed gently against your clothed sex, stealing your voice and replacing it with a gasp.

Slowly Shouta pet you, his fingers stroking gentle circles over the wet cotton, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath. With his hand still on your neck, you kept your body torturously motionless as he gradually increased the pressure of his digits, reducing his speed as he passed over your clit to drag the pads of his fingers over the bundle of nerves.

You swallowed the pooling saliva in your mouth, the action causing your throat to press against his hand. “Please…” you begged. “I can’t…”

Shouta was strict, but not cruel. He obliged, slipping his fingers beneath the cotton to swim his digits into your juices, never breaking his circular, rhythmic motion over your slick entrance. The scent of your arousal surrounded both of you, thick and heavy.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he growled against your skin.

Two of his fingers dipped into you then, slow at first, allowing you to stretch around him as your walls quivered. Your thighs tensed at the intrusion, welcoming the stinging pressure as your core burned with fire. He withdrew his fingers slowly and you lifted your head to watch in carnal fascination to see his fingers shining wet down to the knuckles. He pushed them into you again, curling his fingers towards the sensitive, spongey tissue along the top of your walls, his thumb pressing down on your wet clit. A zap of stimulation fired from your core before fizzling away, a teasing warning of what was to come.

“Oh-Oh fuck…” you gasped as one hand reached back and grabbed a fistful of Shouta’s thick, dark hair.

He picked up his pace then, his thumb driving firm circles around your swollen pearl as the sounds of your wet hole being finger-fucked filled the silence of the empty stage. With each pass of his thumb, with each curl of his fingers, the heat grew hotter, your cunt swollen and burning with the need for release. Your thighs were tensed so tightly now that it made your legs lift and you had to brace your feet against the piano, discordant notes ringing out to join the sounds of your heavy pants and wet squelching in a lewd song. Shouta’s hand left your throat to hold you under your thigh to keep you steady as his other hand worked fast and hard to unravel you. With the absence of his touch on your neck, you were free to move your hips, grinding hard into his hand, his lap, whatever part of him you were touching. Your grip on his hair tightened, mirroring the tension building within you, clinging to him like the boughs of a tree knowing that any second the flood would come.

Shouta was your lifeline, your rock, your destroyer. You were the waves and he was the shore, and your body tensed to prepare itself to crash against him.

“Come on, baby…” Shouta whispered gruffly. “I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

You came with a cry, loud and frantic as your walls clamped down on his fingers. The ball of heat that you had been carrying like a stone exploded within you, incinerating every nerve from the inside out, leaving nothing but sweet, sharp, euphoria in its wake. Your walls spasmed repeatedly, sucking greedily on Shouta’s drenched fingers, as you cried and moaned, bucked and arched. Shouta’s arm was around your waist, holding you against him to keep you from sliding off of his lap as you rode the high of your orgasm, tumbling like a waterfall over and over again to finally become a puddle in his strong arms.

Shouta held you silently against him as your body twitched with aftershocks of pleasure. Once your spasms subsided and he was sure you wouldn’t fall from your perch, Shouta released his hold around your waist to draw his fingers up and down your arm, creating goosebumps under his gentle touch. His fingers were still in you, his hand cupped between your legs. The warmth of his touch on your tired cunt was comforting, and it brought forth a content moan from your parted lips. Shouta smiled as he planted another kiss on your shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that with him. But you finally made yourself sit up when you felt sleep starting to drag you down into its murky depths, your limbs feeling heavy.

Finally, Shouta spoke. “Better?” he asked.

You gave a laugh. “Much.” You looked down at yourself in amusement. “You made a mess of me, though…”

Shouta gave a satisfied hum and stared at his hand that held you. “I like you messy.” He stated.

“So, you’re just gonna leave me like this?” you teased.

He laughed and withdrew his fingers, wiping the slick coating them onto his jeans. “As much as I like that idea, no.” He adjusted your ruined underwear and the hem of your dress back into place before turning you around in his lap. His hands were planted on your rear, keeping you securely and comfortably in place. “It’s late. We should get you home.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. “What about you?” you asked, your eyes glancing down to his lap. Your hands began to trail down his chest to reach the button of his pants, eager to reciprocate.

Shouta smiled at you and grabbed your hands, bringing them back up to plant kisses on your palms. “Tonight was about you. There’ll be more opportunities for both of us later.” You pouted and he chuckled. “Don’t give me that face.”

“It hardly seems fair…” you muttered. You were looking forward to enjoying more of him… you didn’t want tonight to end.

He hummed as he began to trail kisses along your jawline and you arched your neck to allow him better access. “We both… need sleep.”

Sleep? With his mouth on your skin, sleep was the last thing on your mind. Shouta pulled his lips away to look into your eyes again and you could see the fatigue there, dark circles framing bloodshot eyes. He really did look incredibly tired, and you couldn’t help but wonder how late it really was. You brushed the errant strand of hair off of his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

“Okay...” you softly agreed.

“You should come back tomorrow night.” He mused, the mischief back in his eyes. “We can continue our piano lessons.”

“I’d like that.” you smiled.

You couldn’t wait.

#aizawa shouta #Shouta Aizawa #Aizawa x reader #Aizawa x you #shouta x reader #Shouta x you #bnha smut #mha smut #aizawa smut #bnharem collab #Jazz Aizawa #Jazz AU #Music AU #BNHA music AU

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stillafanofsonic · 2 years

Text

I made a post awhile ago about my dream idea of how I want Shadow introduced in the movie verse and this has been knocking around in my brain ever since, enjoy--

The mysterious dark hedgehog’s eyes were calm but sharp, staring down at Sonic where he had him cornered. “While this fight and chase have been an interesting experience, I grow weary of it. I was sent to kill you and I will.”

Sonic was breathing heavily. This odd stranger was able to match his every move, his speed and strength seemed to be exactly the same. In the beginning, Sonic thought he could outlast him, but now, he was beginning to doubt it. The other hedgehog wasn’t even breathing that hard.

“No!” Tails screamed, flying toward them.

The dark hedgehog didn’t even look in the fox’s direction, just reached out, grabbed him and threw him as hard as he could, sending the little fox flying across the street. With that, heavy red energy started to form around him. “Say goodbye.”

“Wait!” Sonic said hurriedly. “I have to get a last request, those are the rules. You are required to grant my request if you’re going to kill me, dude.” When there was no answer, he kept talking. “And my last request is I challenge you to a game of Fortnite.”

The red energy disappeared. “Fort…. Nite?”

Sonic grinned. “I don’t have it here, you’ll come to come with me.” He held up both hands. “No tricks, I swear.”

***

The black and red hedgehog slowly stepped into the house, looking around at the surroundings in a mix of suspicious bewilderment. “What is this place?”

Sonic and Tails exchanged a look. “A house? You never been in a house before?”

The other hedgehog grunted. “Where is this Fortnite? I don’t have all day.”

“Right this way!” Sonic said excitedly, leading him into the living room and turned the TV and Xbox one. He didn’t miss how their guest flinched when the loading screen came up. “Okay, since you’ve never played before, we’ll be nice and let you play a bit by yourself.” He started the game and handed him a controller.

Immediately, Tails yanked Sonic to the side. “This isn’t a good idea,” he whispered.

“Trust me,” Sonic whispered back.

Forty minutes later, the dark hedgehog was still playing. In that time, his posture had relaxed slightly, had stopped being so stiff, some of the anger had drained from his eyes. It had taken him a while to get the hang of the game, but it seemed like he was getting into it now.

“You want something to eat?” Sonic pushed a tub of ice cream and three spoons toward him. “It’s cookie dough, excellent stuff.” When the other hedgehog didn’t do anything, he and Tails each took a spoonful and ate it. “See?”

Slowly, the darker hedgehog took the third spoon and scooped out a small amount, sniffing it carefully before he put it in his mouth. His eyes widened before he took another spoonful.

“So,” Tails said slowly. “Why were you sent to kill Sonic?”

Those red eyes remained focused on the TV screen, for several seconds, it didn’t look like he was going to answer. “They told me I had to.”

“Why?”

He took another spoonful of ice cream. “They didn’t say. I don’t question my orders.”

Sonic and Tails exchanged another glance. “Do you actually want to listen to those people?” Sonic asked. “They nice to you?”

“No,” The dark hedgehog admitted darkly, then paused the game to look directly at them. “I don’t want to talk about them. But this place, do you live here? Do you live like this all the time?”

“Pretty much,” Sonic said with a shrug. “Playing video games, reading comics, watching Netflix. Hanging out with him and our parents.” He reached for a second controller. “You want to play our match now?”

The darker hedgehog shook his head. “No.” He took another spoonful of ice cream and ate it, then set the spoon down. “Your name is Sonic?”

“Yup! The one and only. And this is Tails.” The blue hedgehog tilted his head. “You got a name or did those jerks not give you one?”

“I have a name. It’s Shadow.” He stared back at the screen again. “Shadow the hedgehog.”

#sonic movie #shadow the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sonic the hedgehog #my writing

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

let me be your ruler.2

Warnings: guns, dubcon, noncon, handjob.

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (dark!mob!) Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You try to forget about Peter but he won’t forget about you.

Note: I hate that I am the way that I am. I wanted to keep this to two parts but you know me.

Anyways, I’m excited for this and hope you are too.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Drowsy in the afterglow of sex and alcohol, you fell quickly into a deep sleep. You didn’t even change before you sank into bed. You hardly recalled the elevator ride up or stumbling into your apartment and tripping around the shadows to your room. It was only a fractured journey from the car to your mattress.

You woke as your phone vibrated under your pillow. You must have buried it there before passing out. You groaned and rolled over as you dug it out. There were several notifications next to a single name; Peter. You thumbed through each message; written in the same tone as his voice. Demanding, without question.

‘Great night, Princess.’ ‘We’ll do it again Saturday.’ ‘Wear something nice.’ … The messages escalated smoothly from doting to commanding. It jolted you back to the night before, the way he seemed to just thrust you through the night. The dress, the drinks, the men, the guns…

You sat up, your panties crooked on your hips. You muttered and swiped away the messages. You weren’t seeing him again. You couldn’t. You had stuck your toe in too deep already. It was best to nip these things in the bud. Not to let yourself get dragged in so far you couldn’t see the surface.

Peter was more than mysterious; he was dangerous.

You went to the kitchen and waited for the machine to grind as the scent of coffee filled your heavy body. You drank too much, did too much. You still felt Peter’s hand between your legs. It made your chest tight and your head spin. You looked down at your body, the red dress wrinkled and askew.

You left the coffee to brew and retreated to your room. You tore off the dress and your panties. You pulled on a cotton shirt and loose pajama pants. You stormed back into the kitchen and shoved the clothing in the bin. You snatched your phone from the counter and swiped up the lock screen.

‘Sorry, I don’t think this is going to work out.’ You typed. Your hand shook as you hovered over send. You heard Halle’s door and you pressed your thumb down. You looked up at her before you pulled up the block option.

“How was your night?” She asked as she inhaled the aroma of your morning ritual.

“Eh, you know, another dead end,” you pushed your thumb down and the conversation disappeared. “Just not my type.”

“Really?” She whined. “He seemed so nice. And he liked you so much.”

You blackened your screen and placed your phone face down. “Well, you know, things don’t always turn out.” You shrugged and pulled out a mug, “You want some?”

“Are you at least going to tell me about it?” She pouted. “And yes, lots of sugar.”

You poured her coffee and handed her the sugar dish. You frowned at how much powder she scooped into her cup but it was her most endearing trait. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t care what anyone thought.

“Uh, well, it wasn’t anything special. He took me to a party but… I don’t know. What kind of first date is that? Take me somewhere I don’t know anyone…” You ran your finger around the rim of your cup. “Maybe when I was younger but now.”

“You sound like such an old lady,” she snickered, “Oh my god!” She stood straight, “Are we old?”

“I am, but you’ll always be young at heart, Hal,” you rolled your eyes.

“So you’re not going to try a second?” She prodded.

“I don’t think so,” you cradled your mug, “He… hasn’t even messaged me back.”

You hated lying but Halle had gotten you into this mess and you knew she’d harp on you for not even giving Peter a chance. But you had. He wasn’t what he seemed and you didn’t want to stick around and find out what exactly he was hiding.

“What?” She huffed. “Well, fuck him then.” She sipped from her coffee and her lips curved as she swallowed. “Wait, did you…”

“Hal, come on,” you snipped.

“Oh, fine, but you know, maybe if you got laid, you wouldn’t be so uptight.” She teased.

“Not this again,” you groaned and slid your phone off the counter. “You know what, I got work to do.”

“Uh huh,” she hummed as you turned to leave, “Work. When did you get so old and boring?”

“One of us had to,” you called back over your shoulder, “And we both know you’re never growing up.”

✨

Your phone was pleasantly still for the rest of the day. You felt a twinge of guilt having blocked Peter but then you recalled the men and their holsters. You found your mind drifting away from your work and your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought back.

The company he kept added to the uneasiness in your chest. Steve was friendly but arrogant. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, what was it he introduced you as, “Peter’s girl”. And that man, Bucky. He didn’t seem too fond of Peter but the way he’d grinned at you, as if he knew something you didn’t. Well, he did, they all did. Your head stormed as you tried to figure out their secret.

You shook off the curdling paranoia and hunched as you squinted closer at your computer. You made yourself focus as you skimmed the tight font and added your suggestions in the margin. You sent off your edited draft as your stomach groaned; empty and churning from the acidic coffee.

You grabbed your phone and your mug as you stood. You checked the time. Almost noon. You grumbled and went back to the kitchen, thankfully empty as Halle had left for work an hour ago. You set your cup down and expanded your notifications. A single phone call from a private number and a new follower on your mostly empty Insta.

You opened the neglected app and hit the notification. The profile was emptier than yours. the profile pic was just black and there were no posts. The name gave you no hints as it was obviously generated by the site.

You went back and a comment popped up on the picture of your and Halle at last year's winter market. ‘Gorgeous, Princess.’ You read and reread the two words as you leaned against the counter. You bit your fingertips and went back to the mysterious profile. You hit ‘block’ and locked your phone.

Surely, he’d get the hint sooner or later. It was one date and the man seemed to have no trouble with women. He’d move on and you’d both forget about that off putting night. You just had to wait him out.

✨

A week rolled by as you kept yourself busy with your work. The phone calls stopped after the first day and you had no more peculiar alerts awaiting you. Your plan had worked. It wasn’t exactly the best; it was a bit cowardly, actually. Yet, knowing how Peter was and how ‘no’ seemed beyond his vocabulary, you had more faith in your evasion than his understanding.

As the weekend approached, Halle convinced you to come out with the girls. You had eluded those opportunities for the past year as you found yourself disillusioned and disinterested in the club scene. You felt as if you were aging out of it and seeing all those fresh-faced coeds assured you of it. Even so, the girls liked to dance and in their words, you need to ‘let loose’.

You couldn’t disagree. You had been on edge and the mounting emails in your inbox didn’t ease the stress of everything else.

With a pre-drink burning a whole in your stomach, you pulled on a pair of flats as your bag hung across your chest. You were comfortable but not stuffy in your tight jeans and the bright pink top with the criss-cross straps. You felt pretty good and the vodka made you optimistic.

You headed down to the street and caught a cab. The dread evaporated the closer you got and as you pulled up to the front of the flashing club, Molly and Desiree waved at your approach. The four of you joined the line as you searched out your ID.

“So,” Molly said, “Halle told us about your little date!”

“Date?” You blinked. “Oh, yeah, that didn’t pan out.”

“Of course,” Desiree scoffed, “That guy was so cute though.”

“Yeah, he was nice, but we just didn’t…”

“He’s ghosting her!” Halle interjected, “Didn’t even text the next day, ugh.”

Halle crossed her arms and you nodded. You weren’t going to correct her, you didn’t need the other two piling on about your dormant love life. You came out to have a good time, that’s what they promised you, and you didn’t want to think about the night that still stood so vividly in your mind.

As you stepped up to the bouncer, he barely looked at your card. You were almost offended as he waved you through and carded the next party more closely. You glanced around at your friends but they hardly seemed bothered. Well, only Halle had reached that big three-o with you, and the other two girls still had a year or two to go.

Madonna’s voice pumped from the speakers as you neared the bar. You looked around at the streaming lights and the bodies shadowed in the strobe. You were surprised you recognized the song and you nudged Desiree as she waited for Molly to order the first round.

“What’s up with the music?” You asked.

“It’s retro night! Duh! Just for you!” She giggled and you elbowed her harder.

Molly turned and passed out the plastic cups with their thin straws and you followed Halle to the low stage where the smoke machine billowed. You coughed at the taste of the fog and sucked on your straw. You began to sway as the other girls led the charge. You could help but be enlivened by the deep base and the energy all around.

As you danced, the girls yelled back and forth about their recent drama. Desiree’s date had been more successful than your own, Molly was certain she was in love with Charlie? You still didn’t know. And Halle was just riding the vibe.

You finished your drink and the other girls stacked their cups in yours before you crossed the stage to leave the garbage on the table just beside the platform.

You looked over at the bar, pondering another, and your eye was caught by a figure who seemed out of place. The cut of his suit, the way he leaned on hand on a stool, and the intense gaze sent in your direction startled you.

You blinked and stumbled over to the single step down to the floor. You pushed through the bodies, nearly tumbling as a tipsy guy crashed into you. You got to the bar and looked up and down it. Girls waved their hands to get the bar tender’s attention and guys sidled up to them.

Bucky was gone. It was him. Maybe the air was filled with smoke and the lights were flashing like a siren, but you were certain. Why was he there? How had he found you among the city? Among the reverie in that club? Why had he been watching you? And where had he gone?

You went to where you’d seen him and searched the perimeter of the bar. You went back through the club and slipped past those just getting in. You tapped on the bouncer’s shoulder and he grumbled before he turned and bent to hear you. “What is it?”

“Did you see a guy in a suit leave? Dark hair and--”

“There’s a lot of people here,” he shrugged you off.

You snarled and turned back. You got ahead of the flood of new arrivals and fought your way back to the three girls on the stage. As you walked up, Halle pouted and grabbed your elbow. “Boo, we thought you were getting another round.”

“No, no, I…” you squirmed and tried to get back into the rhythm, “I had to use the restroom.”

“Well, how about now? Wanna refill the tank?” She jibed.

“Uh, sure,” you picked at the purse. “Be right back.”

“Make mine a double,” Molly called after you. “Thanks.”

✨

Despite drowning yourself in alcohol, you barely slept and when you did, you were back in the club, staring at a man you never expected to see again. You wondered if maybe you’d imagined it or if Peter had sent him after you or if it was someone else and you were just tipsy and blind. Whatever it was, you couldn’t shake the foreboding that followed you into the next morning.

Your Saturday was painful and lazy. You spent your hangover on the couch and barely saw Halle as she cowered in the dim light of her room. You fell asleep there and dragged yourself to bed just before nine. You really were old, or at least, getting there.

Sunday slapped you in the face after another night of disjointed dreams. Peter and the room full of men, Bucky at the bar, and static in between. Responsibility called you from your mattress and you cleaned up and dressed for your weekly trip to the grocery store.

As you came out, Halle was glaring at her phone. “What’s up?” You asked as you shoved your wallet in your purse. “You coming to the store?”

“I got called in for one.” She pouted. “Tell me why I fucked that asshole?”

“Shit, Hal, I’m sorry. Well, I’ll just do the shop myself.” You frowned, “Let you get ready to deal with all that.”

“It’s all because he fucking texted me on Friday and drunk me decided to reply and then… urgh, why do I do this?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me?” You grinned.

“Oh, please go before I throw this at you,” she shook her phone, “And don’t forget my oat milk.”

“Whole milk?” You asked as you slipped your shoes on, “Got it.”

“Don’t,” she warned.

“Alright, alright. Hopefully I catch you before you go,” you stood and grabbed your keys from the hook. “Have fun with Mr. Bossman.”

“Shut up,” she buried her head in her hands, “Oh my god!”

You tried not to laugh as you left. You felt bad for her as you didn’t know what you’d do in her situation. Looking for a new job had been her first thought but the market was never very good and the man who was driving her away, wasn’t exactly a shining reference.

You took your usual route to the grocer. You had your list on your phone and loaded your cart. You filled the reusable bags and set off for a very inconvenient subway ride home. Your arms screamed as you carried the load up your street and struggled to find your keys at the door. The elevator was too slow and you ended up hauling it all up the stairs. You were out of breath as you got to your apartment.

You turned the knob just a little and kicked open the door. You stomped in and dropped the bags. “So, I got your damn milk--” You stopped short as your voice collided with Halle’s. She was already dressed for work but her braids were still loose. She stood behind the couch as she talked to your unexpected visitor.

“Oh, there she is,” she said snappily, “I wouldn’t blame her for kicking you out but I’ll leave it up to her.” Halle turned to you, “Look who’s here. Only took him a week to come around.”

“Hal,” you said softly as you set the bags down. “What--” You lowered your voice, “Why’d you let him in?”

“So he can apologize to you,” she huffed loudly and passed you to close the door, “Don’t you worry, I still gotta finish getting ready so you have lots of time to hear him out.” She looked at him sharply.

“Really, it’s…” You gulped as you peeked over at Peter. He sat calmly in the chair as he watched you. “Yeah, okay.”

She marched into her room and as her door closed, you reluctantly approached the back of the couch where your roommate had just stood. You stared at Peter, uncertain what to say. You hadn’t been prepared for this; for him to be there in your apartment, your home.

“Peter,” you ran your hands over the couch cushions.

“You lie to everyone you know?” He asked. “As I recall, I’m not the one who’s been… ‘ghosting’, as your friend says.”

“I…” You shifted and picked at the seam, “Look, I told you it wasn’t going to work--”

“You barely gave me a chance. Gave us a chance,” he said as he pushed his legs apart. “That’s hardly fair.”

“Well, you know, I have work and it’s just not a good time for me right now.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but--”

“Ha, princess, I don’t hurt so easy,” he smirked, “Why don’t you sit down and we can talk properly… finally.”

You scratched your brow and cleared your throat. “I don’t think we need to do that.”

Your voice trailed off as Halle opened her door again. She swept out and you waited as she scooped her purse off the counter and sidestepped the groceries still sat on the floor.

“Gotta go,” she sang, “I’ll see you after work.” She stopped by the door as she wiggled into her heels, “Let me know how you deal with… him.”

“See ya,” you said quietly and watched her go. You looked back at Peter slowly as he chuckled.

“What did you tell her about me?” He wondered.

“Nothing. Really.” You said. “I have your jacket. You want it back--”

“Sit,” he gestured to the couch. “We’ll worry about that later.”

“No. Peter, please. I’m just not interested, okay?”

“You seemed pretty interested in the car,” he purred, “Seemed real interested.”

“I…” You looked at the wall and squirmed. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You were asking for it in that dress,” he intoned. “Now,” his movement drew your eye as he reached into his jacket, “I don’t like playing things like this.” He pulled the pistol from its holster and rested it on the arm of the chair, his hand firm on the handle. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk.”

You stared at the gun. Your blood burned hot and you felt blindly as you came around the couch and dropped down. Your eyes never left the muzzle. Would he use it on you?

“Oh, princess, don’t you worry, I’m just getting comfortable.” He taunted. “Now, I’ve been tryna figure out where I went wrong. I got you a pretty dress, I took you to a nice party, I fed you champagne, and I even gave you a little dessert,” he mused and his lip curled, “So I gotta confess I’m confused as you why you’ve been hiding from me.”

You were paralyzed. You clutched your knees and gritted your teeth. You didn’t know what to say. You’d convinced yourself that you’d never see him again. Your method was tried and trued, at least, when it was used against you.

“Don’t be afraid. You can tell me. I really would prefer the truth.” His finger slid along the short barrel as he spoke. “So?”

“I… Peter, I don’t think that we would, uh, work out. Look, I don’t like guns and…” Your lashes fluttered, “I don’t really know that I wanna be around someone who carries one. Not too mention, your friends--”

“My friends. Princess, your mine. They won’t touch you.” He raised his chin. “They’re not that bold.”

You were silent. Your heart pulsed loudly and you took a breath. You stood cautiously and crossed your arms. “Peter, we talked. I told you my reasons. I think you should… go.” You said as firmly as you could.

He laughed again. His cheek twitched and the smile fell away from his face. He rose slowly and turned his gun to tuck it away under his jacket. His eyes never left you as he did.

“You really want me to go?” He asked.

You nodded and held your breath. “Yes.”

He threw his hands out and clapped them against his pants. He shook his head and crossed the room. You turned to watch him as he passed and suddenly, you were thrust towards him. His hand was on the back of your neck as he pulled you against him. He held you tightly and you felt his gun poking through his jacket.

He grinned, his lips only an inch from yours. “I’m going, princess, but not without you.”

“Let go of me!” You struggled with him. “Get off!”

“Princess,” he warned as his fingers dug into your neck, “Settle down.”

“No, I told you to go.” You hissed as you grabbed his wrist. “Please.”

“Let’s get this straight,” he said, “You don’t tell me what to do. Even if it gets me hard.” He crushed his lips to your suddenly and you wrestled with him, your teeth grazing his lip before he pulled back sharply, barely escaping a bite. “You don’t wanna do that.”

His hand went to your chin and he looked you in the face. He rubbed his nose against yours and growled. You beat on his chest and he squeezed tighter.

“Shit, let’s not just rush out of here,” he released you, “You should get those away before they spoil.”

He stepped back and placed his hand on the front of his jacket, where his gun was hidden. You gaped at him and your eyes flitted to the door.

“Ah, don’t worry, we’ll be on our way soon enough,” he said, “So long as you hurry up.”

You swallowed and he moved with you as you went to the bags. He blocked the door as you pulled the straps apart and began to unpack shakily. You dropped a can and it rolled along the floor before he stopped it with his foot. He kicked it back and leaned an elbow on the door frame.

You picked it up with several other cans and went to the cupboard. You snapped the door closed as you felt around the drawer with your other hand. You heard a click and looked to Peter as he aimed his pistol at you. He tilted his head.

“Don’t do that,” he intoned as your hand lingered just inches from the knives inside the drawer.

You went back to the spread of groceries and tried to ignore him as you put everything in its place. As you bent to fill the crisper, he purred, a sizzly ‘princess’ under his breath. You finished up and packed the bags one into the other. You left them on the counter and again, he put his gun away.

“Princess, let me tell you something,” he gripped the door handle, “I don’t take that out without using it very often so don’t press my patience.” He turned the knob slowly, “I’ve waited on you long enough.”

✨

The car ride was tense and long. Peter drove you uptown and you watched out the window helplessly. You rubbed your palms together nervously as they dampened with sweat. He’d taken your phone when you reached for it. He tossed it and it was somewhere on the floor.

He drove past the condos and the walk-ups and continued on nearly the exact path he’d taken on the momentous night. Another grand house awaited you but you remained in the seat as Peter climbed out. He opened your door and still you didn’t move. He reached across you to unbuckle the seat belt and grabbed your arm. He jerked you out onto your feet and sighed.

“Peter,” you begged, “What’s going on? Please, you’re scaring me.”

“Princess, have I done you wrong?” He asked but you didn’t answer. “I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me right now,” you wriggled your arm and he shoved you ahead of him.

“In,” he demanded as you stumbled up the rounded steps. “Now.”

You opened the door and stepped inside. You crossed the marble floor of the foyer as he directed you from behind. He followed at a pace, close enough that you couldn’t flee. Even if you did, you wouldn’t make it far.

“Pete,” the voice startled you and you stopped at the bottom of the wide staircase. Bucky stood in a doorway to your left. His gaze moved from you to Peter and back again. “I didn’t realise you brought company.”

“You’re still here?” Peter snipped.

“Was I supposed to leave?” He sneered. “You got me and Steve running around and you’re gonna kick us to the curb.”

“You don’t look very busy to me,” Peter growled and neared to rest his hand on your lower back. He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Upstairs, turn left, the room at the very end. I don’t like hide and seek, you got me?”

You nodded and looked at Bucky again. His mouth slanted knowingly and his tongue poked out for just a moment. You turned up the stairs and left Peter behind. You reached the top and listened for a moment to his muffled voice.

“You and Steve do your fucking job and leave me alone. Understand. I don’t want to be bothered.” Peter snarled.

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna be interrupted either,” Bucky snickered. “Not with her.”

“Go,” Peter barked. “Now.”

“Ay, you might be Tony’s man but you still gotta watch yourself,” Bucky warned. “This little arrangement isn’t gonna last forever…”

You went to your left and to the door at the end, like he said. You entered and couldn’t help but gasp at the immense bedroom. The black and white decor was expertly matched in marbles and exotics woods, plush velvet and polished sconces. You couldn’t help but admire the luxury.

You didn’t close the door. You glanced around dumbly and stood in one spot as you feared you might break something. You wrung your hands as you heard the steady footsteps and you spun as Peter entered. He looked even more agitated as he cracked his knuckles.

“Sorry about that, Princess,” he said, “Now where were we?” His eyes roved the room as he thought, “Ah, yes, an apology.”

“Apology. I…”

“Should I close the door?” He raised a brow, “You’d be surprised how sound carries in here.”

You frowned and he laughed as he swung the door shut. He neared you and bit the tip of his tongue as he considered you. His brown eyes bore into you and you took a step back. He stayed near and caught your wrist. His other hand fumbled with his belt and he let out a slow breath through his nose.

“Princess, I’d love to treat you how you deserve but you gotta be good to me too.” He pulled on your arm and twisted as you tried to resist. You hissed and he pushed your hand against his crotch. “I don’t forgive easy but I’m sure you can change that.”

“Don’t... don’t make me do this,” you uttered.

“Oh, but princess, you did this,” he pressed your hand around his bulge. “You take care of me and I’ll do the same.”

You parted your lips to argue and he grabbed the back of your head. He kissed you roughly and guided your hand to the top of his boxers. He slid your fingers under the elastic and urged you on, wrapping your fingers around his dick with a groan.

He squeezed until you gripped him firmly. He led your hand up and down as he held you to him, his hot breath filling you as it picked up. He forced his tongue into your mouth and you clawed at his jacket as he kept your other hand around him. He parted from your mouth at last and pressed his cheek to yours.

“Keep going, princess,” he purred as he slowly withdrew his hand from around yours. “You don’t wanna use your hand, I might think of something else.”

You quivered and slid your hand up and down his length. He nuzzled your neck and nibbled as he moaned against your skin. You could only move your hand as you stood against him stunned and rigid. He gripped your waist as you felt him tense and he murmured hungrily.

“Oh, princess,” he breathed and pushed his pelvis against your hands as he came.

You felt the slick heat seep down your hand and slowed until he was breathless. He stilled your hand with his and carefully eased your hand from his pants. He stood straight and eyed your glistening fingers.

“Shit,” he swore as he caressed your cheek, “You made a mess of this suit.” He dropped his hand to the front of his pants as he smiled. He inhaled and pushed his shoulders back. “I forgive you, Princess.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #fic #dark!fic #let me be your ruler #mob au #mafia au #au #mcu #marvel #series #spider-man #bucky barnes #steve rogers #tony stark

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