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noaltbruh · 3 years

Note

I hope this follows the rules! But is it okay if I request a scenario where Giorno has a nightmare of turning into Diavolo and S/O comforts him when he wakes up?

My first request in so long, what an honor!

You're surely a fan of this scenario, I've seen you requesting it quite a lot of times.

Either way, let's get into it!

Esci dalla mia testa

06/04/2004

Midnight had just struck, it had already been three years.

Three years since Giovanna had become the new Don of Passione, and since the former had been punished for his actions.

But in reality, time had lost meaning to the young boy years ago. Everything he did, it felt so...Mechanic, so frivolous, simply keeping track of the days in order not to forget an important reunion.

He buried himself under thousands of piles of work, which only seemed to grow bigger and bigger with every day that passed. This was supposed to be his dream, his greatest goal, and he had reached it at such a young age.

But then...Why did he feel so empty?

He was supposed to be happy, after all the sacrifices that had been made to arrive so far, he had to be grateful for everything that's been given to him.

But he couldn't be, because those sacrifices were not his own, because innocent lives had been taken away, because he had come.

He truly was no different than the man whom he had condemned to suffer for all eternity. But he had to clinch his teeth, and keep on going with his head high, for the few people that were still by his side. Most importantly, for his partner.

As everyone around him had found a significant other, pressured by his best friend, he had decided to reluctantly indulge in this so called 'romance'.

And when you two finally met, he felt like a tiny fickle of faith had risen inside of his heart again.

You listened to him, to his struggles, to his doubts, to each one of his complaints like the were the only worries in the world. He failed to express how much you meant to him, after those...'Accidents', he had become even more close-up about his feelings.

You were very well aware of his workaholic tendencies, as most nights, you were the one to ask him to put down all the documents and get some rest

And this...Was one of those.

As you rapidly fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from your own day, you felt a soft hand gently caressing your forehead. You were so warm and comforting, like a puppy, the only one able to give him hope in this twisted world.

But sadly, your presence could not magically make all his guilt and insecurities go away, and he had accepted that.

After contemplating your dreaming figure for a minute, he slowly closed his eyes, wishing to escape, just for a short while, from all those crushing responsibilities and expectations.

His consciousness started to slip away, he felt ready to conclude another day. Until, he heard whispering. Weak, confused, peculiar sounds, he could not understand a word of what those voices were trying to tell him, they were too far from the boy.

But they wouldn't stop. Delicate, constant and unbearable like the sound of a drip of water falling into a sink. They were playing with the Don's patience, a sleeping lion that should not disturbed, unless you wanted to be torn to pieces.

His mind immediately connected the situation to a possible Stand attack, nothing out of his normality, per se, but he was not concerned for himself. You were still peacefully resting, clinging to your sheets, it was a quite cold night. He wouldn't have let a single soul cause any harm to his darling, she was his only true happiness, his sunshine.

In the moment he stepped outside of the bedroom, what he was faced with sent a frozen shiver down his spine, as he brought his hand to his chest, to control his heartbeat.

There were four doors, floating in absolute darkness. A weak stream of light, that seemed to be originated from nothingness, illuminated each one of them singularly.

The whispering got louder and louder, faint giggles could occasionally be heard. The young one turned around to look at the entrance of this cursed place, the one he had just walked through.

But there was nothing there.

And so, like a captured prey that had nothing left to lose, he ventured himself into the first door, only to be met with a monochromatic version of Fugo. He was breathing heavily, desperately sobbing and all curled up on himself, on the shore of the same place where the rest of the gang had decided to betray Passione.

Giorno was standing on top of the water, unable to move a single inch of his body.

"Look at what you did"

A deep voice murmured in his ear. One he hadn't heard in a long time, one he wished he could have erased from his memories, that infected his mind and was more deadly than the sobbing boy's stand.

Diavolo.

"Me? Fugo chose not to leave, it was his own fault if-"

"If he was abandoned by everyone he loved? Do you have any idea of how selfish it sounds?"

The boy hesitated for a brief moment, staring at those warm tears falling into the canal.

"It was just...A temporary matter, he rejoined Passione, he's doing better now"

"My, it must have surely been fun to prove your loyalty to someone who caused the death of half of the people you cared about, after refusing to participate in his little suicide mission"

The blond's legs started to tremble, mantainig his composure was starting to look impossible.

"They...They didn't die because of me, they sacrificed themselves for a noble cause, for making Italy a better place, they wished it as much as I did"

The man contained his laughter, then he continued.

"Is that so? Why don't say that in their faces then?"

The image of the lonely boy disappeared, together with everything in the room. Giorno was back to that black space, but the door was now missing.

And the next one...Had nothing better reserved for him.

He found himself in the island of Sardegna, the only sound that could be heard were the small waves that met with the coast.

He knew perfectly why he was here. He took a closer look at the seaside, there were some footsteps printed on it. He felt a knot in his stomach at the thought of where they would have brought him.

Abbacchio's lifeless body was laying on top of a rock, surrounded by dead flowers. His entire torso had been torn apart, and yet... His corpse was smiling. A tiny, melancholic smile on his purple lips.

"Do you still have the courage to repeat what you said?"

Diavolo began, in a mocking tone.

"When he became part of the Organization, he was at his lowest, he had nowhere else to go, every path he took brought him nothing but sorrow and disappointment. The only thing that gave him comfort was following Bucciarati...And so, with that excuse, I transformed him in one of minions"

The thought of calling out Gold Experience hit Giorno's mind, but he knew that there was no point of lying to himself. The albino was gone, his soul had left his body long ago.

"I don't need you to tell me just how disgusting you are"

He said, his voice was filled with a suffocated rage, as he knelt over to look closer at his former companion.

"Abbacchio couldn't have cared less about killing me, he came with you because Bucciarati did, because he so desperately wanted to follow him, he felt like scum at the thought of no longer having him in his life"

The boy with emerald eyes felt an hand touching him on his shoulder, but there was no one there, except for himself.

"You exploited his dependence from the man, and used at your advantage, just as I did"

He stopped for a brief moment, enjoying the desperation in the other's eyes.

"But at least, he didn't die under my guidance

And with that, the second room disappeared as well. The boy contemplated whether to remain in that hellish void or to move forward, the image of what was waiting on the other side hurt way too much, his juvenile soul was starting to crush.

But he couldn't remain there, it would have meant giving up to Diavolo's twisted games, seeing him break down was exactly what he was waiting for.

He turned the doorknob, when he felt something humid staining his clothes: there was fresh blood streaming from his lady bug pins. The trail that it formed on the ground invited him to follow its path. He knew he couldn't decline, none of what he wanted seemed to matter in this place.

A metallic railing stood in front of him, his entire pins bled so much to the point of consuming themselves. An horrific scream coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time echoed through the room, as he directed his gaze to the top of the grey construction.

"What a shame...Oh well, he was the most disposable member of the team anyway"

Narancia's corpse was resting among dozens of spikes, his faded orange bandage slipped from his dark hair, landing right next to Giorno's feet.

"Oh Narancia...So young, so naive, just another victim of this unfair world. That's what you're thinking, isn't that right, Giovanna?"

"This is why people like him should not be involved in this business..."

"Mh? And why is that? Childish minds are the easiest to manipulate"

Ignoring his last statement, the other leaned down to pick up the bandage, but his hand went through it. His body was starting to feel dizzy, like it belonged to somebody else.

"Not answering won't make me go away, the damage has already been done, after all"

"Narancia should have NEVER joined Passione in the first place. He could have gone to school...Have a normal life, but-"

"But he died for your cause before he could. What he said before I activated King Crimson melted my heart a little, how cute...He really trusted you that much to the point of thinking that he would have come out of it alive"

The railing emanated a cracking sound. For a second, he was afraid it would have fallen off, causing him to get impaled as well.

"I took away his chance of living an happy, standard life when he decided to work for me, and you did the same, allowing him to come along with the rest of your team"

The small boy suddenly faded away, together with the rest.

"But at least, he didn't die under my guidance"

At last, there it was: only one room left. Despite how deeply he cared about each one of his former team members, the premonition of what would have come next was more painful than everything he's seen so far altogether.

He sat down, staring at the door from a distance, his eyes emptier than the ones of his old allies. They say that eyes are the window of the soul, and nothing else could have been used to describe his inner turmoil. Nothing but a faded, dull green, testimony of all his battle scars and the survivor guilt that he tried so much to repress.

Perhaps his eternal punishment had arrived: having the chance to confront his inner demons, to move on, to show how fearless he was.

...But never truly grasping the idea of freedom, never facing and accepting what really happened, he was never given the time to. So much had oppressed him all at once, he couldn't keep up with it.

He was a child, a child that had to grow too fast.

But then, someone came out of the door. A bittersweet figment of his imagination, that made his heart stop beating for a second.

The one he hadn't seen in years, the one he had tried to subdue the most, the one that showed him for the first time in his life what love was, stood in front of him. There was no hole in his chest, no sign of blood or wounds, a reassuring smile accompanied his face, as he held out his hand to the grieving kid.

"What are you doing all alone in here? The others are worried for you. Let's not make them wait any longer, shall we?"

Giorno ignored his help, his gaze was stuck on that endless floor. He didn't have the courage to look at the other, his presence alone felt like a sadistic joke.

He didn't look sad, depressed, miserable... He was just...Tired.

He wanted to cry those tears that he had denied in the last three years, he wanted to yell at that illusion to leave him alone, that wasn't the real Bruno, it couldn't be.

But, as he impeded any of this from coming out, something he didn't think he would have felt in a thousand of years struck him.

Bucciarati hugged him.

A tight, comforting hug like one of a mother, that he was waiting for his child to reciprocate. The latter's breathing became heavier and heavier with every moment that passed, as weak laments rapidly turned into audible sobs.

"There's no reason to be sad now, I'm real, you can feel it, can't you?"

"Y-You...You're here...But h-how is it p-possible?"

The brunette chuckled, the sound of his laughter was more comforting than an angel's voice.

"It isn't"

Giovanna's stand penetrated the man's torso, but its arm...It was not Gold Experience's. It had a checkered red and white pattern that extended in its entirety, and it possessed an amount of physical strength which was out of any possible expectations for the creature able to give life.

"Foolish child, I thought you were better than this, I'd lie if I said I wasn't a bit disappointed"

The sound of Bruno's corpse falling to the ground resonated through that empty space, as the last door vanished. A puddle of blood originated from his horrible injury, it was big enough for the boy to see his reflection in.

"You are no better than me under any point of view. We took advantage of his kindness, we used him as a simple pawn for our own gain. The only difference between us, is that I was not manipulating enough to convince him to join my side voluntarily. He was a tool to the both of us, but you were the one who caused his demise"

The mirror that had been created showed two people, but the transparent figure of Diavolo immediately ceased to be visible. The only one left was Giorno, though his reflection seemed to mutate with every second that passed.

His blond curls started to change shape, turning into a fuchsia mess, with dirty green stains on it. His eyes had a killer, maniacal look inside of them, his pupils got smaller in horror. His entire body structure was different. He looked older, more muscular, his clothes, too, were no longer his own.

"Mista loved him, and you killed him"

"Fugo loved him, and you killed him"

"Trish loved him, and you killed him"

"Narancia loved him, and you killed him"

"Abbacchio loved him, and you killed him"

"You loved him, and you killed him"

...

"Giorno? Giorno please, wake up!"

You screamed, your sleep was interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend hyperventilating, as he desperately held you to himself, still trapped in that horrible dream.

You sighed in relief when he abruptly opened his eyes, so swollen and red from all the tears he's shed.

"Another nightmare, uh?"

You asked, gently caressing his back to try and calm him down, he was as vulnerable as a baby that runs to his parents after having a bad dream. Waking up in the middle of the night to comfort him is something you had grown accustomed to, but you had never seen him this shaken up.

He slightly nodded in response, grabbing the top of your pajamas. You put an hand behind his head, making him rest on your chest, and kissed him softly on his forehead.

You could hear him murmuring something, you couldn't tell wherever he was talking to you, or to himself.

"I-I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm s-so sorry..."

He repeated like a broken record, you could barely make out what he was trying to say.

"Tesoro, you've done nothing wrong, there's no one you owe your apologizes to"

The boy raised his head slightly, intertwining your fingers with his, he needed to feel sure that this was not another tremendous trick of his mind.

"See? I'm here, you don't have to be afraid. I know that you feel unworthy of my feelings, but there is no one out there that deserves love more than you do. Nobody is perfect, Giorno, you did everything that was in your power to help them"

"But I...I was the one w-who put them in danger in the first place"

"No, you were not. You all shared the same ideals, you saved them from the oppression they were put in"

As you swept those remaining drops away from his face, you could still feel his entire body shaking like a dried leaf in a windy day of autumn.

"N-None of this would have happened if I didn't come along..."

"Exactly, none of them would have known what it meant to be free. I...Understand that the sacrifices that were made are not easy to forget, but blaming yourself like this...Do you really think that's what they would have wanted?"

Not receiving an answer, you laid down once again, still holding him in your arms. You forced a tiny smile, kissing him delicately on his lips, and whispered in his ear that everything would have been okay.

But, in reality...You felt you were trying to reassure yourself as well. This was not something you could have solely resolved through staying by his side, healing from this would have taken a lot of time, but...At least, you could offer some temporary safety, and it seemed to be enough for the time being.

In fact, after some minutes, everything seemed to cease. The boy fell asleep once again, this time with the knowledge that you were there to protect him.

You sighed, praying for your darling to finally find some peace.

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lazarettta · 3 years

Text

Misthios III

Characters (Mother Miranda, Alcina Dimitrescu, Reader)

Word count (2k)

Rating (T)

Warning (straight zooted, none)

Countess Dimitrescu takes you home.

Any mistakes you find, blame it on the herbs.

Only taking a few steps from your holding cell, you were startled with what awaited you.

You weren't sure what to expect when you were about to meet Lady Dimitrescu but what you got wasn't on the top of your list; her inhuman beauty or her height. She was taller than tall and for a split second you actually gawked at the woman before remembering yourself and thankfully your jaw snapped shut inaudibly but she'd already caught you.

“This is (Y/n), take her to your castle and keep her there until I call.” You frowned at her words, you weren't some goddamn pet to keep and she had another thing coming if she thought that you were just going to sit around twiddling your thumbs. Miranda stopped next to the tall woman near the door and a small torch light, “Not a scratch, Alcina.”

“Of course, Mother Miranda.” She seemed amused and she clearly wasn't as human as she portrayed herself to be. You'd place a bet wagering that she is one of the myths you haven't yet tracked down...but which one?

Miranda didn't spare you another glance and she was gone within a blink of an eye, leaving you two alone, you cleared your throat bringing the woman's honey eyes to you again. “But you will refer to me as lady Dimitrescu.”

Keeping up with Alcina's long strides down the dreary pathway wasn't an easy feature especially given that the hallway itself was narrow and you didn't really have any interest in touching the walls. They were wet but it did not look or smell like water. Eventually the woman came to a stop, right in front of an iron door that turned out to be an elevator shaft—a bit like the ones used when mining was still a thing.

Prison cells in some abandoned underground mining tunnels, Miranda? Always so dark and mysterious...

The silence between you both was thick and a bit awkward and you could feel her caution and curiosity rolling off of her in waves and you knew that she was occasionally glancing at you because you were doing the same thing while you both waited for the elevator shaft to come down. This place just continued to get more and more curious—what other wonders was this village in the mountains hiding away from the rest of the world? But you were quick to chastise yourself for the thought, curiosity always killed the cat, (Y/n)...

“Yes,” her voice was low and deep this time opposed to the thunderous tone she was using earlier, “but satisfaction brought it back.”

You hadn't been aware that you spoke out loud. Having allowed yourself to be distracted with your thoughts that you failed to take notice of how much more observant the other woman became towards you the minute you both loaded onto the old shaft. Though the old thing hardly made a sound under lady Dimitrescu's weight despite the fact that in order to enter she had to duck a little for herself and her large brimmed hat.

Shoving your hands in your pocket, you turned slightly to look up at her making sure to keep your eyes above those pearls wrapped around her pale neck and accenting that decolletage—no doubt purposely done. “Ah, I haven't had that recited back to me in a very long time.”’

“Then you’re not keeping the right company.”

Your mouth twitched around a smile before you schooled it away, “That would be true if I actually had any friends...or family.”

Lady Dimitrescu raised an eyebrow, not that you’d see it because of her hat casting a shadow over a majority of her face, “Handsome thing like you without friends or family? Doubtful. Surely you have someone waiting for you? You seem like the type to have a maiden or two at your feet.”

This time you couldn’t push back your smile, you knew that she was fishing for some answers about your character—and no doubt trying to figure out why Miranda thought you were special enough to be placed under her word of protection, as if you actually needed it.

But that was all fine because you’d do the same thing, in fact you already were but you’d give her something—an inevitable piece of information that will come to light soon enough. She was already suspicious so it really was just a matter of you beating her to the punchline.

“Nope, none of the above. People just have this pesky little habit of dying on me.”

She chuckled, low and deep and you felt it a bit (and fuck was this the longest elevator ride you’ve ever been on), “Oh I know of that nuisance all too well myself.”

“Do you now?”

“Oh quite dear.” There was a bit of a sinister flare to her tone behind that innocent smile and shrug she tried to sell you. “One could even say it's my favorite pastime.”

And right as you were about to press another question the shaft came to a screeching halt, oh…how convenient. You swore you saw Lady Dimitrescu outright grinning before she ducked out ahead of you, if you didn’t know better you’d say she read your mind.

The moment you stepped out of the shaft and through the opening of the alcove, you were severely unprepared for the harsh winter wind or how well into the evening it’s become and the conversation earlier was placed on the backburner.

Less than two hundred feet away there was a stagecoach waiting with four black horses attached. The stagecoach was all black with gold trimmings, a style fit for royalty—you’ve seen enough of them in your lifetime to know.

There was a young man half frozen next to it as he waited for Lady Dimitrescu’s approach, nearly stuttering out all of his teeth to greet her but she hardly paid him any attention, gracefully ducking inside. The young man gawked at you as you entered the coach behind his employer but was quick to close the door after you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, the tips of your ears heating up when you had to brush past her crossed legs to sit on the bench across from her and she made no effort to move, only watching you while smoking from her cigarette stick.

The stagecoach had a bigger interior than the exterior let on, accommodating the dark haired beauty perfectly. Though she was sitting at a sideways angle she seemed very comfortable and she was easily dumping the ashes outside of the cracked window.

“Is there anyway to get my things back…it had a majority of my clothes in there.” Or get back to your camp—it was probably ruined by now, either by wild animals or nature itself.

“We will accommodate you at the castle.” Her gaze was on you again but you were busy looking out of the window down at the village, now that it was nightfall everyone had their lights on—it was bigger than what you expected. “I don’t suppose you like dresses?”

As you suspected, the inside of her castle was just as massive and beautiful in it's antiquity as it was on the outside. The estate was kept in pristine condition and you were honestly impressed with what you saw. But it was really warm though not uncomfortably so. You two had barely stepped into the lobby of her castle with you mostly admiring how easily she was able to bend at the waist without batting an eye to get through a door that wasn't custom sized for her. She seemed used to it but you wondered why she didn't correct the doors.

“Hmm. Nice castle but why is it so warm? I might have to sleep with a window open.” you joked, still taking in everything and you had yet to notice how your words affected your host.

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned on you so fast you actually did run into the taller woman. Your entire face was lost in a world of firm fluffiness and your senses were filled with the very essence of Lady Dimitrescu. Though before you could scramble away with an apology on the tip of your tongue, Lady Dimitrescu was moving before you and she had reached down and she fisted the back of your parka and kept you right where you were, close and trapped.

You were forced to look up at her between her bust, or let them suffocate you, and she was already looking down at you with a hard look but you had no idea what the hell you did.

“You open a window in my castle and you won't be sleeping at all, guest to Mother Miranda be damned.” she snarled, her tone steely and you had no choice but to listen—even if she didn’t have you in a death grip, “The windows are off limits. Do not open them. Do not touch them. Are we clear?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, still struggling against her unyielding hold and against your rising temper, “What the—”

“Do you understand?” she tightened her grip on the back of your clothing, forcing the collar of every layer you wore to constrict around your throat at an alarming fast rate.

“Understood.” you gritted, your blunt nails digging her soft flesh beneath your hands that was her stomach but you doubted that your nails were as deadly as hers. You didn't bother to tell her that it was a joke and you were quick to straighten yourself out as you caught your balance when she released you with a bit of a pull against your parka forcing you away from her. You cursed her in your native tongue but her attentions were now focused on something to your left—no, on someone.

“Ah, good! Servant, come here,” a young girl no older than twenty quickly came over, bowing her head awkwardly.

“Y-yes Lady Dimitrescu, how may I serve—”

Alcina cut in quickly as if she had better things to do, and she did, “You're not serving me tonight, girl. This (Y/n). She will be staying in the guest room to the left of the wine room and you will be tending to her every need for the duration of her stay, and I do mean her every need.” though her tone was cheerful there was an undertone of a threat if her instructions went under-performed. Alcina winked at you as she hadn't almost choked you out in the middle of her foyer.

“Yes ma'am, I understand.”

The maiden nearly nodded her head from her shoulders. She was so terrified. If you were blind you would've assumed it was her first day, but a good portion of you knew that it was something else—you remembered quite well how Miranda preferred to run her own kingdom and you weren't surprised that this woman had similar tastes.

“Keep your pleasantries. Just show me to my room and leave me before I really lose my fucking temper.” you snarled at both of them, namely the Lady of the castle. You were able to physically restrain yourself from starting a brawl with this woman but your mouth has almost always gotten you into more than half the situations that left marks all over your body.

Lady Dimitrescu looked back to you, tilting her head back slightly as if she was just finally taking notice of how hard you were glaring at her. She did not know why as it could've been for a number of things that have happened within the last five minutes.

Alcina's eyes shifted from you to the trembling maiden between the two of you, then back to you again, “Are we going to have an issue, (Y/n)?” and clearly misunderstanding the reason for your ire.

You scoffed knowing when to pick your battles and how she handles her staff was not one of them. But how she handled you was, “Manhandle me again and we will.”

The maiden gasped at your audacity and flinched sharply when Alcina chuckled while setting her hand on her hip. She found more and more curious and she was starting to see why Miranda liked you so much before. There was a spirit that burned inside of you—strong and rattling in its cage, she could see it in your eyes even as you restrained yourself.

The maiden opened her eyes when she didn't feel the whoosh of Lady Dimitrescu slapping you through the wall, she was surprised to see you still standing there alive. The maiden looked at you in awe before bowing her head, “P-please follow me, ma'am.”

Alcina still stood there with her hand on her hip and another one of her cigarettes was lit, watching you follow the little maiden through one of the side doors when a familiar buzzing made itself known until Bela was standing next to her, snuggled close as she wiped the blood from her mouth with the sleeve of her black shift. It needed to be washed anyway.

“Mother, who is that? Another meal?”

“No,” Alcina answered softly, reaching down with her free hand to push back Bela's hood so she could comb out a few tangles in her eldest daughter's blonde hair, “But she is very interesting, isn't she?”

“Yes, but who is she?” Bela asked again, this time looking up at Alcina.

“Perhaps a friend, or foe, that has yet to reveal itself. But for now, go and collect your sisters dear and meet me in my study...I wish to talk to them about something more pressing.”

Bela was gone in an instant, the synchronized buzzing of dozens of blowflies disappearing quickly leaving Alcina alone with her thoughts.

Here is a link to the Ao3 version of this story...if it's easier than tumblr...

#resident evil village #mother miranda x reader #alcina x reader #resident evil 8 #mother miranda #lady alcina x reader #resident evil miranda x reader

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syndxlla · 3 years

Text

Part nine of the More to Love series

Summary: Plans for the ball are in full swing, the concealment of your relationship with the knight dwindles and you make a deal with one another that leads to both of you learning a new and valuable skill

Word Count: 8.9k, NO USE OF ‘Y/N’

Warnings: SMUT (oral sex F receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms), swearing, mentions of wounds

Author’s Note: and we’re back to your regularly scheduled royalty and princesscore writings. this chapter is very chill honestly, but i still really enjoyed writing it! there’s also the introduction of THE DRESS. y’all this dress is insane you really aren’t ready i am OBSESSED with this dress.

Part eight

“Are you listening, Princess?” You hadn’t even realized you had zoned out. Your cheek was bright red from resting against your palm, and your eyes had glazed over with boredom. You hoped you didn’t look too uninterested, but considering the literal Queen of Mandalore looked down at you with folded arms and one arched eyebrow, you were less than confident that you looked engrossed in the conversation.

The Queen, Lady Reeves and yourself have been inside a yellow-themed parlor all morning discussing plans for the ball. Your Knight stood patiently by the door, overseeing the entire meeting. You wore a long sleeve dress that was too hot for the summer sun, which was slowly drying out the mud and puddles from then two-day long rainstorm that no one predicted. You spent the entire day yesterday pretending to rest from the exhausting day previous, but you were really hiding your arm from everyone else. You tried to argue with Koska that a long sleeve in the middle of summer would look for more suspicious than a simple bandage on your bicep, but she disagreed to say the least. The Knight stopped limping this morning, although you were convinced he was just faking it for good measure. If others knew he was injured, it could raise suspicion that you were too. You also think he didn’t want you to worry about him. The stab wound really wasn’t that deep, but you knew it had to have hurt more than he was showing. You thought he should take a few days off to rest his leg and to really spend time with his son, but he refused to.

You look up from your emotionless stare out the window, which showed the sea in the distance. The ocean was so different here compared to what it’s like in Corellia. There are sandy beaches and the water’s warm, whereas back home, it’s often frozen over, and is lined with rocky fjords and coves. You wanted to go down to one of those beaches soon if you could. They looked relaxing and much more intruiging than a wordy meeting that you stopped listening in on Lord knows when.

“Sorry, I just… zoned out for a minute.” You clear your throat, looking up at the ginger above you. You bat your eyelashes, trying do play off innocent and truthful. She shrugged, and turned around to pull something out of Koska’s hands.

“I was saying that now that we have the food and decor arranged for the ball, we can talk about the important things.” She says as she whips around for the big reveal that you weren’t expecting: iher arms was the most extravagant, fluffy gown you had ever seen. It was a soft rose gold, the skirt was huge and round, tulle pillowing out from the bodice which had clearly been hand-beaded by nimble fingers to have five-pedaled flowers with curly vines growing out of them. There was a soft sweet-heart neckline, the lace and beading of the bodice came up past the structure to overlap where your skin would be, The sleeves were off the shoulder, which was common for Mandalorian summer gowns. The skirt had a soft hint of sparkles and real diamonds had been sewn into the centers of each flower along the gown.

You perked up as you saw the ornament, your attention being drawn from the crashing waves of the ocean to the prettiest dress you had ever seen. You think you sighed, but you weren’t really sure. Dresses have always been a part of your life, designers from all over the world would send you their best sets, and it’s rare for you to wear the same gown more than once. This isn’t the first time you had been presented with a dress that costed more than some of the houses in the kingdom, but there was something different about it. It had a special glow to it, unlike anything you had ever seen.

“Her Radiance Ahsoka brought it, it’s a wedding gift from the Woodland elves.” Koska speaks up when she sees your reaction. Both her and the Queen were amused at your childlike awe. “That’s why it has that shimmer, they used silk spinners and gold.”

“I… I can’t accept this.” You wanted to, but you were desperately trying to be humble and calm in this situation. The dresses never meant that much to you, it’s just a piece of clothing. You have always been far more into the politics that came with royalty, not the fashion, so this was a first.

“Well of course you can.” The queen chuckled, “It would be rude not to.” You wished you could tell her that wearing such an extravagance would feel in vain because you did not feel affection towards the person you’ll be wearing it for. However, you supposed she was right, it would be rude to turn down a gift from the literal elves. You stand up from where you sat, walking over the dress that took your breath away. You wondered what the Knight thought of it, and you turn around to look at him. You know that he wouldn’t show any type of reaction over this thing, especially if the Queen is watching, but you wanted to show him that you were thinking of him. You smiled, raising your eyebrows to really show how beautiful you thought the gown was, you’ll get to talk about it with him later. This is the second time Koska see’s something like this between the two of you, and she first looks at you, and the knight, raising a sharp eyebrow.

You place your hand over the fabric, running your palm over it. You did nothing to deserve this, but you were honored that it’s yours. “It’s like a faerie’s dress.” You sigh. “It’s wonderful, when can I thank her Radiance?”

“She’s out and about, she usually meditates in the gardens on sunny days, I can retrieve her, if you’d like.” Koska speaks up.

“Oh that’s alright, I’ll find her eventually.” You smile.

“Interesting that you brought up the fae…” The Queen brings up, “Allow me to ask, it is your engagement ball, is there anything specific you would like to have incorporated?” A few days ago, you would have had no answer, because a few days ago there was nothing about Mandalore worth it to you. However, things have changed. You’ve spent sleepless nights thinking about the boy in the beskar armor, and you would give anything to dance with him at that ball. You knew damn well that if you asked nicely, and maybe gave him head in return, he would do almost anything you asked. He would happily dance with you alone in the room after the events of the night, although you weren’t even sure if he knew how to dance. You did want to waltz with him, but not in that way.

So, last night you stayed up late, laying on your back with the balcony doors just cracked open to let in the smell fo fresh rain and a cool breeze into the hot room, thinking about him. You especially thought about the soft skin of his thighs and the way he shuddered when you raked your fingernails down his abdomen. But you also thought about how you could dance with him at the ball, where everyone could see. You knew that you would be dancing with far more people than Korkie, it would be many people’s last (and only) chance to dance with you before you’re married, and so you’re expected to give everyone the opportunity and attention they desired. It wasn’t your favorite thing you’d have to do, especially considering you would be dancing with a number of complete strangers and total creeps of Viziers, Grand Dukes and old viscounts who would probably whisper dirty things in your ear. And that is part of why you wanted this one thing for yourself so badly.

Dancing with a mysterious stranger wouldn’t be a problem. You wanted to share your affection towards him, and you especially wanted him to see you in your true element of balls and parties and gowns and tiaras. You knew it was risky, especially considering you can hardly control yourself around him, who knows what the crowd may be whispering as you dreamily look up at him. But after having to move and change your entire life, marry a man you resent in a kingdom that goes against everything you’ve ever believed in, you owe yourself this one thing. Just this one.

However, dancing with a literal knight would be far too suspicious and obnoxious for the biggest event in the western part of the world. And you knew that he would never remove his helmet, even if his life depended on it. It would be no easy feat to convince him to do something like that in such little time, but that’s when you got the best idea to have possibly ever cross your mind.

When you were just a little girl, your nursery caretaker would sit you on her lap when you had droopy, tired eyes, and read you a story. You can’t remember what it was called, it’s been so long since you heard it, but it was your favorite. It was the tale of the masquerade ball where the young peasant girl fell in love with the handsome magician. You were always drawn into it, because you once hoped you would fall in love with a mysterious and handsome man, too.The point of the story was that she never saw his face, as they both had on extravagant swan masks covering their eyes. If everyone had their face covered, it wouldn’t look suspicious if he did, too. You knew it would be a big thing to ask, and he may not even agree to it if the Queen approves of the short-noticed theme, but you wanted to live at least one night as the young peasant girl.

“Yes, actually.” You began to reply, “I would love for my engagement ball to be a masquerade.” You made sure to add in the ‘my’ to reinstate that it is for you. The Queen stopped to consider what you asked, and Koska looked suprised. It’s rare for anyone to ask the Queen for something like that out flat. But, she was the one who brought it up.

The Queen made you wait in suspense for her answer, and every fiber of your being wanted to turn around and wink at the knight to let him know that you asked for him, but even you, the naive princess, knew that you needed to be more careful with sharing your memories with him when others are around. “I suppose we could arrange that.” She thinks out loud, and you can’t stop the smile that stretches across your face. The Queen really only agreed because she knew it would cause more buzz and conversation around her last event as Queen. Even you could see that, but if it meant you would get a chance to share the memory with your guard, it was worth it.

“Your Majesty, forgive me, but the ball is this weekend, I fear we will not have enough time to prepare for such a change in plans…” Koska spoke up.

“Well, not if we don’t have everyone in the palace working double time,” Both yours and Koska’s faces dropped, that is not what you wanted at all. “Every servant will be required to make ten masks before the ball on Saturday. Knights are exempt, obviously.” She placed the rose gold dress back in Koska’s arms. You immediately felt guilty.

“Oh that won’t be necessary, Your Majesty, I don’t want everyone to-“

“Oh nonsense,” She interrupted, “I love the masquerade idea, it will be grand. It will be the envy of Coruscant.” Was everything a battle for her? An endless contest of who’s the best between Mandalore and Coruscant? If everyone had extra work to do on top of their usual load, you would feel absolutely terrible, but there would be no changing the Queen’s mind. “As the head of the servants, you will oversee the masks, Lady Reeves.” Your face was in shock, pale and sick. Koska shot you an annoyed glare. You tried to respond with an apologetic smile, but the Queen was speaking up again, pacing as she spoke. “Of course we need the royals to stand out from everyone else, we’ll already have our gowns but the masks will make a difference too…” She thought out loud. “Koska I would like an owl mask as per usual, there will be gems incorporated as well I trust?”

“Yes, your Majesty.” She was not amused with her new task.

“As for our little Princess,” She was referring to you, but you couldn’t even listen out of guilt. Everything you tried in Mandalore somehow backfired on you. “Her dress is lovely, but her mask must also be the most extravagant in the room, after mine, of course. It would also be best if hers and my nephew’s matched, Yes?” Koska nodded, struggling to hold the heavy dress with her small stature. “Lovely, aren’t you just full of surprises, Your Highness?” The Queen smiled at you, and you forced a polite smile. “Now, excuse me, I have a designer to meet with to get as many feathers and adornments for masks as possible.” The redhead hastily exits the room, her high guard following her, leaving just you and Koska with your knight.

“What the fuck was that about?” Koska asked afterwards.

“I didn’t mean for any of the extra work to happen, I swear.” You defensively respond.

“You just love giving me a hard time, don’t you?” She asks.

“No- that not at all what-“

“Let her be, Koska.” Your knight steps into the conversation.

“Ugh you knights are so frustrating sometimes.” She rolls her eyes. “I mean, what is going on with you two?” She asks and your heart drops to your ass. Was it that obvious there was something more there? Your knight tensed up, too. “Yeah, I can see exactly what’s going on here. Would either of you like to explain?” She asks.

The two of you stood awkwardly like children who got caught stealing sweets from the kitchen. You wondered how you were going to get out of this one. Your entire world could come crashing down right now if you didn’t play this out correctly, and a thousand outcomes of this situation simultaneously played out in your head. Would she rat you out? Would it lead to your knights expulsion? Or would she keep it to herself? She seemed to have a history with your knight, although you didn’t know what that might be. Maybe she would be on your side, but you highly doubted it.

You blame yourself for all of this. You should have put a stop to all of this long ago, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. He has you tied around your finger, and you like it. You wondered what was going on through his mind, was he as nervous as you? He had to be, if not more worried about what would happen. Someone knowing about your secret relationship would only lead to you getting a tap on your knuckles and then they would try to hide it from society to keep your reputation clean, but it would be the end of his career and safety for him. You were selfish for this, and you knew it.

“What?” Is all your stupid mouth says. As if you hadn’t just had the most sporadic and stressful thought process of your entire life. After all that, the only thing you were able to come up with was “what?”. You thought your body might be shaking, but you weren’t totally sure. You wanted to look at the knight by your side, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Koska must have thought the same thing as you because after you just responded with an arrogant rhetorical question, her eyebrows raised like a mother angry with her teenage son. She scoffs, and walks to the other side of the parlor to place the gown down on a sofa. When her back was turned to you, you were somehow able to muster up the courage to look at the beskar-clad figure to your left. He didn’t look any different than, well, ever. Tall and broad and stoically looking ahead as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. But you knew better. He had to have had a similar thought process to your own. He never turned to look back at you, and that’s when the guilt really set in. This could have been prevented. It should have been prevented. You fiddle with your sleeve.

Koska comes back too soon, her arms folded over her chest and the same unamused look on her stupidly perfect face. “So, one of you better start talking now, or else I’m going to get impatient and go catch up with the Queen to do your chore.” She nods to you. Why was she doing this? What did she gain out of knowing any of this? It could be to protect Korkie, although you found that seriously hard to believe. From what you can tell, Koska could care less about the Mandalorian Prince.

You sigh out of embarrassment mostly, but know that you are the one who needs to speak up. This was your mistake, and so it was your responsibility to fix it. “This is all my fault,” You have to clear your throat after beginning because of how uncomfortably your words sit in your throat. “I take full responsibility for everything. Don’t blame him for anything.” You nod. He turns his head to look at you after you say this, and you wanted nothing more than to look back at him, but Koska had your gaze trapped.

“And what exactly do you mean by ‘everything’ and ‘anything’?” The lady-in-waiting asks.

You sigh again, knowing this was going to be hard to say. “I...allowed myself to be…” You carefully considered your word choice, “i-infatuated with the wrong man.” You finally get out. That was the first time you had said it in front of him, and only the second time you had said it outloud ever, the first being to the Elven Queen last week. “I shouldn’t have let it get so out of hand, but I fell under the spell of this Knight, and I don’t even know his name. I’ve never seen his face. In many ways, he’s a complete stranger to me.” You debated saying the next thing, but it just kind of spilled out, ‘A stranger who’s plagued my thoughts and actions since the day I got here.” It was hard for you to say, but there was something so liberating about saying it.

He never took his eyes off of you the entire time you spoke, but this time you were able to look back at him. Your eyes first looking down at the floor guiltily, and then they slowly make their way up his armor and to the visor on his helmet. You just looked there for a little bit while Koska processed what you were saying. You smiled genuinely at the knight, desperately trying to show him that everything you just said was true. For a moment, you weren’t sure if she was going to say anything at all, and the room fell silent.

“Well…” She begins, you can’t hear any disappointment in her tone yet, “You’re terrible at hiding it.” She sighs. Of all the things she could have said, you did not expect that.

“What?” You say like an absolute idiot for the second time. You look back at the woman.

“Look, I’ve known him for a long time.” She shakily breathes, looking at him, “We’ve actually been through a lot together.” He was still looking at you, “And honestly, Neither of us were ever cut out for the Royal life we’ve been living for a while now.” You wondered what she meant by that. “And to be frank, I could care less about your personal life.” She said to you about you, “But since he’s a friend, and you really don’t mean very much to me, no offense,”

“None taken.”

“I suppose I’ll just keep it to myself-“

The relief that overcame your body was unmatched. You can’t stop the grin that goes from ear to ear or the sigh of relief that danced on your lips and out of your lungs. You look over at him, who still hasn’t looked away from your face, but he sighs of relief, too. You see it in the way his armor shifts.

“-Under one condition.”

“Okay…”

“You have to start hiding it better, no more over the shoulder glances. Okay? This is me looking out for him.” She gestures to him with a nod. Was she really going to do this for you?

“No more glances, got it.” You repeat.

“There’s no telling what might happen to him if the wrong person finds out.” She clears her throat, and that statement scares you. You try not to let it take up too much of your thought. “And you have to act like nothing is different. You’re still engaged to the Prince and you’re still the future Queen-consort. I don’t give a damn about what happens behind closed doors, but when others are around you have to behave yourselves. This is me looking out for my kingdom, understood?”

“Understood.” You nod back, although you weren’t the biggest fan of that condition, you knew that was the price you had to pay to get what you wanted… well at least what you think you wanted. “You’re not going to tell the Queen?”

“If you do those things, she won’t hear a word about it.” Koska shrugs.

“And what about Korkie?”

“Stars, I cannot stand that boy. I don’t even talk to him.” She rolls her eyes and you chuckle. You’re happy you aren’t the only one who feels that way about the prince. “But I’m not going to cover or lie for you two, I’m not going to help you hide it or anything. Alright?”

“Of course.” You reply.

“Great. I have over five-hundered masks to make by Saturday, so I’ll be leaving now.” She finished and on her way out, she pushes the knight on the shoulder playfully.

The door closes.

“Stars.” You clear your throat and turn to look at him, before you can say anything, though, he’s picking you up by the waist, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of weightless flour, and carrying you over to the second sofa that isn’t taken up by a ridiculously large dress. You giggle when he does, blushing at his enthusiasm. You’re placed on your back and he kneels between your legs.

“You’re excited.” You chuckle and he hums in response. There isn’t very much room on the sofa but he makes his place. He then grabs the hem of your dress, pulling it up over first your thighs, then up past your hips, over the corset and up to your face. He covers your eyes with the skirt and it hides the cheesiest smile on your face. light still poured in from the fabric, but you weren’t able to see anything.

You then heard the sound of metal being placed on the floor next to you, and to your pleasant surprise, his lips and pressed tightly to yours through the fabric. The kiss obviously doesn’t make any contact, but you’ve learned that with the knight, it’s the thought that always counts. You’re smiling into the kiss like a dork, and you shudder when you feel his bare hands against your bare thighs. He pulls your legs open, and then pulls away from your separated kiss.

Your first moan comes when you feel his lips against your soft thighs. He licks up and down your right thigh first, his fingertips strong and faithful against the outer part of your legs. Your breathing hitches, and you hum with pleasure when he moves to your left thigh, taking the same amount of time to kiss, nibble and suck on your pillowy skin.

Then, before you can think any more about the heat and want in between your legs, he’s pulling down your petticoat painfully slow. You bite your lip, you knew where he was headed with this, and you were more than happy to welcome it. His index and middle finger run soft lines around your cunt, massaging the swollen and wet skin around your opening that only got wetter. Your clit begged for attention, but your arms were trapped under the position of the dress skirt, and you didn’t want to risk adjusting it in a way that would make him stop. You would have to patiently wait as he teased and prodded your lips, his free hand rubbing your thigh and occasionally making its way to firmly squeeze your ass cheek. Your breathing was needy and short as he took his time to get to know your core with the tips of his fingers, which were now wet and slick and making the friction smoother.

He then gently places a light kiss on your clit. It’s so soft that you’re only able to feel it because of how sensitive and hungry you are for that type of contact. You slightly finch when his lips touch the nerve, and you’re able to feel him smile against your skin. What you would give to see his face right now…. Then, before you can think any more, he’s licking a flat stripe up from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit where he flicks three times with the tip of his tongue. You gasp at the sensation, and try to suppress a moan. He then take his time to lick each separate lip of your sex, avoiding your actual opening but teasing in such an addictive way that you were willing to be patient for him.

The knight then finally wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, pulsing with his lips and flicking back and forth quickly with the tip of his tongue. You do moan this time, a broken cry falling off of your needy lips. It was a euphoric feeling unlike anything you’ve experienced before and you loved every moment of it. His arms wrap around your upper thighs, holding you in place around his head as he moves down to lap at your pussy lips. He moans at the taste of you, diving his tongue into your folds and prodding your sensitive clit with his nose.

You whine short and quietly as he does, biting your lip and bucking your hips every now and then as he took care of your sex. He must have gone down on you for close to ten minutes straight, never coming up for fresh air and never stopping the steady pace he had. You aren’t sure how you didn’t cum immediately at the feeling of his plump lips against your clit, but you also aren’t sure how you didn’t blackout from the sheer pleasure of the feeling. It was addictive, and it only got better after he pulled away to spit on your cunt. He spits onto your folds and then brings his fingers up again to start fingering you, sliding in his pointer finger with no resistance and slowly pumping it in and out. His mouth finds its way back to your slit, sucking on it as he fingers you. The sound was filthy, it filled the parlor with wet, obscene noises accompanied by breathy moans and gentle hums. Every time he hummed against your clit, your back arched from the added pleasure. The vibrating of it was pure euphoric, and you knew you were a sopping mess in between your thighs.

His chin was wet from spit and arousal and for one quick moment he pulled his wet mouth away from your core to kiss and rub the juices of your cunt on your thighs. He nibbles a few times on either thigh, marking each with a litter of purple and red hickeys. Before adding a second finger, he pulls his hand out to gently and playfully slap your cunt. He uses his wet hand to tap your core five or six times, each tap getting harder. You moan out at the feeling, and squeeze your legs together against the feeling in a horny attempt to get more pleasure from the moment.

“Huh, would you look at that?” He asks, his voice low and hungry and full of lust. It’s the first thing he’s said in a while, and the indulgence of the oral sex cause you to nearly forget how much you loved his rough voice. “Do you like it when I slap your cunt?” You whine in response. “With your words, Princess.”

“Yes, Sir.” You whine like a bitch. He chuckles and slaps it again, harder this time. You shudder at the feeling and feel your climax coming on. You want to delay it for as long as possible, but your thighs start to shake when he puts his mouth back in you and pushed both his index and middle finger into your opening, pumping and curling and twisting his wrist to make the most wonderful combination of finger-fucking you could of have imagined.

“I’m gonna cum.” You barely get out before your spine is burning and your stomach is flexing as you cum hard and long against his tongue and on his fingers. You cry out in broken, heavenly bliss, and look for something to grasp onto as you hit your high, but you can’t find anything, which leads to your sporadic back arches. You’re panting, and he doesn’t stop kissing against your core while you cum on his tongue. You bite your lip and swear you might make it bleed a little. His grip on your thighs tightens while he pulls you against his mouth, preventing you from pulling away from the addictive exhilaration that is his kiss.

He licks you through the entire orgasm, and then some after. You think you’re being over-stimulated but you never have been before, so you aren’t really sure. Just when you think he’s going to stop, he doesn’t and he just takes his sweet old time lapping against your core and slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you. You sharply breath in, your chest heaving against the dress and you desperately want to pull your dress down to see him and breath freshly again. The way he eats you out is so methodical, like he’s done it a thousand times (which wouldn’t necessarily surprise you), like it’s the only thing he’s ever eaten or the sweetest honey to ever grace his lips.

It begins to turn you on again, the pleasure shooting into your spine and down your littered thighs and melting against your clit. You can feel the gentle rub of his fingers against your thighs, stroking your skin as he takes you in. It’s heavenly and is the only thing you can think about. Your thoughts go numb and the only important thing in the entire world is the curly-haired boy at your expense.

You mutter and whisper swears, dirty words that aren’t meant to come out of a princess’ mouth but you can’t help it when you’re seeing white hot behind your eyes. He groans a few times too before his fingers speed back up to the pace they were at before you came the first time. Your dainty hands stroke lightly on your collar-bones as the pleasure fills your soul, licking your lips and trying to hold on for as long as possible before you cum again but you can already feel your second orgasm coming on. He uses a third finger to outline your lips, coating the tip in your slick and then slowly inserting the third and final finger into your cunt, helping you chase that final hit of release. The stretch is amazing, and you were surprised you were able to take it so well. This is when you realized that he’s been training you for something much bigger. The first time he fingered you wasn’t even any penetration, the second time was two fingers, just enough to stretch you that it hurt the right amount, and now this time, three fingers that felt amazing. You remembered the size of his cock, you knew it would be a challenge to take, but he was making sure you would be able to handle it and enjoy it as much as he will.

His focus goes from licking your clit to the fingers inside. He twists his wrist to make the curl and stretch your entrance. He collects the wetness and lets it make the glide and pump smoother. You’re so drenched and needy that the fluid is running out past his fingers and dripping onto the sofa cushion, staining it with your lust. He nips so slightly at your clit and just like that, your whole world comes crashing down. The orgasm is actually mind-numbing this time, and all you can do is moan and sob and claw at your own skin. Your scratch into your shoulders and collar-bone and it’s deliciously painful. Your thighs clamp against his head and he continues to finger you long and hard through the climax, cleaning your folds up as you cum against his tongue and fingers. You’re finally able to catch your breath, painting with droopy, lustful eyes but feeling completely fulfilled. He cleans up all the juices around your entrance, collecting the cum on his tongue and happily swallowing it down like it’s his last meal. You aren’t able to see it, but he then puts his fingers into his mouth, cleaning off the three that were knuckle-deep into your cunt. He groans at the taste, and wipes his mouth before planting one last, gentle kiss to the soft, angelic skin of the mound between your legs. You're so sensitive that the light kiss makes you flinch, and he chuckles at the involuntary reaction.

He puts his helmet back on and then pulls your dress skirt down to see your face. You’re surprised by the light initially, and you blink a few times to adjust to it. Your lungs fill with crisp air and you look at your favorite sight: the helm of the knight you think you’re falling in love with. You can’t stop the smile on your face. He chuckles and then readjusts your dress to cover you up better. He takes such good care of you. You see him freeze when he sees the scratch marks on your skin, and his bare hand softly runs over the red lines, outlining the marks. You blush at him, looking up at his expressionless face with a puppy-love look.

“Everytime I think it can’t get any better, you prove me wrong.” You sigh. Every orgasm has been better than the last.

“Just you wait.” You hear the smirk under the helmet and it causes butterflies to flutter in your tummy. You sigh, still catching your breath and you just take him in, looking up at how he’s propped up above you. He has hands on either side of your head and he’s just a brudding force of metal and sex and good kissing and caring about things that you didn’t even know you needed someone to care about. You probably look like a dork just smiling up at him but you don’t even care and now your hands are free to wrap around his neck and you just wish you could see his face and kiss it all over right now.

Your fingers lock behind his neck and the positioning of his armor and the way his head is bent makes it so you can just barely feel the skin of his neck. You move your index fingers up to look for the curls at the nape of his neck. You think you could sing out when you found the prize: some strands of dark, brown, thick hair hidden under the helmet. You twirl them around your fingers and that action alone is worth a million kisses. The feeling in your heart is second to none and you wished you could stay in this still moment forever.

“Did you mean what you said?” He speaks up in reference to what you told Koska about him.

“Every word of it.” You state, genuinely meaning it as you said it. He did respond but something told you he was smiling under all that armor. He sighs, and then lets his arms go weak so he’s falling onto you. You groan at the surprise and the sheer weight of both his broad body and the heavy armor on top. The air is pushed out of your lungs but at least he’s pressed into you, your hands still toying with his curly hair. You can hear him chuckle, and you wanted to freeze time.

“Someone’s gonna see us if we stay like this.” He mutters as you tilt your head to have it rest on top of his helmet.

“Then let them.”

He doesn’t reply to what you say, and you debate if it was even the right thing to say. When you’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted, it’s hard to grasp the concept that someone may not want the same thing. You’re selfish for not caring about his safety and status in these types of situations. He grunts as he pushes himself back up and stands again, leaving only you on the sofa.

“How’s the arm?”

“It’s fine.” You roll your eyes, you don’t want everyone to worry so much anymore.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You reply more forcefully this time, sitting up on the couch.

“Just making sure.”

“Yeah, yeah…” You sigh, and consider your next words, “I was wondering if I could ask you something.” You sit with your palms flat against the cushion, making aware of the wet spot on the fabric and smirking fondly at it.

“Anything, your Highness.” He nods.

“Well… I wondered if maybe I could teach you how to dance?” You were nervous about what his response may be.

“Oh Stars-“ He chuckles.

“What!?”

“I had a feeling that masquerade might have something to do with me.” He puts his hands on his hips like he’s scolding you but there’s a guilty part of you that you like about it.

“Well it isn’t just about you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“...no.” He already knew you so well. He chuckles at your response. “So… what’s your answer?”

“Dancing isn't my style…”

“I don’t believe that.” You tilt your head. “Come on, it’s super easy and it would mean a lot to me.” You try convincing. He sighs and considers what you’re offering. “I can give you something in return…” You bite your lip, teasing. He chuckles just once.

“Alright-”

“What!? Really??” You stand up from excitement, you weren’t really expecting him to agree.

“But, only if you let me teach you something in return.” You nod in agreement, your hands coming to fold in your lap. You were expecting him to refer to something sexual, but his words prove you wrong, “I wanna teach you how to fight.”

“What?” Why would you ever need that?” It’s rare for royals to learn such a skill, especially princesses. You understood that it would be valuable, but you weren’t completely sure if you were up to the task.

“Well more than anything, I want to teach you how to defend yourself. So something like Keldabe doesn’t happen again.”

“Okay…” You were tentative to agree.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You shrug, “If it means I get to dance with you at the ball, I would be more than happy to learn.”

“Great. Let’s start then.” He takes a step back and holds his hand out for you to take.

“What?” You place your palm in his and he pulls you up off the couch, “right now?”

“Yes, c’mere.” You were nervous and honestly your legs were still weak from cumming twice, but you follow him as he begins to talk. “I’ll just teach you a few things and then you can teach me how to dance I guess.”

“Stop being a pill.” You tease.

“Only if you stop, too.” He teases right back at you which leads to a scoff from your lips. He ignores you. “When you're defending yourself, you always wanna protect your face, okay?”

“Protect my face, got it.” You repeat. He holds his arms up in front of his helmet, his hands fisted.

“Mimic my pose.” You roll your eyes but mirror him, holding your arms to guard your face. “See, is that so hard?”

“Shut up.”

“Yes ma’am.” He sarcastically replies. “You can’t do much if you can’t see, so that’s why you gotta protect your face. If you wore a helmet you wouldn’t need to do this.”

“But I would always be wearing a helmet…”

“It’s not so bad.” He shrugs.

“Something tells me that you don’t believe that.” You drop your arms from your face to say that, which was obviously a mistake, because instead of responding to your claim (which was probably right), he's jabbing his arm out towards your face. He’s not close enough to hit you but the quick and unexpected action is enough to startle you back. You lose your balance and fall down on the ground, wincing when you hit the ground and regretting agreeing to this. Your arms wrap into a frustrated position and you frown up at him. You look up at him surprised and a little pissed, and he just starts laughing. “What was that?”

“You let your guard down.” He says between laughs. He does hold his hand out for you to help you back up, and you take it to your own dismay. He hoists you up quickly, and you have to re-establish your balance.

“You are impossible.” You put your arms back over your face, ready to try again.

“You like it.”

“Are you gonna teach me or not?” He wasn't wrong but you figured you’d have to try and beat him at his own game.

“Are you gonna let me?”

“Just go.” You roll your eyes again.

“This will also protect your ribs. Can’t do much if the wind is knocked out of you, either.” He explains. “You also want to stand wide, it’ll help you keep your balance.” He kicks your feet out to be shoulder width which breaks every rule in the book of princess manners. “And prevent… falling on the floor.”

“This isn’t exactly easy to do in a corset, you know.” You argue.

“And dancing won’t be easy in armor but here we are.” He shrugs, and you suppose he’s right. Neither of you are cut out for the tasks at hand. “When fighting someone without armor, you’re gonna want to go for their face, their eyes are vulnerable and you can do real damage on their nose.”

“Okay….” You try to remember what he was saying, making a mental note for any future situations, although you’re still skeptical. “And what about someone with armor on?” You ask, trying not to show the smirk on your face.

“Well the guy in Keldabe did everything right, he found where the weak points of my armor was and attacked them-“

“So here?” You ask before reeling back your arm and swinging it as hard as you can into his shoulder where there was only chain mail. Your fist crashes into the metal, and you immediately regret it. “Shit!” You pull your hand back and look at your bright red knuckles, shaking your hand a few times as you try to brush the shock away.

“...Yeah, right there.” On the bright side, he seemed to be surprised by it enough that he made a little groan from the contact that turned you on way more than it should have. “But now you fucked up your hand.”

“You think?” You place the angry knuckles at your mouth, trying not to be too upset about the pain shooting through your hand.

“Punching chainmail is always gonna hurt, especially if you do it wrong… like that.”

“So how do I do it right!?” You’re determined now. No one has ever put you in your place, you’ve always gotten what you wanted, and you wanted to prove to him that you could do it.

“Why are you so eager to inflict pain on me?” He asks, you can hear the teasing in his tone but you can’t blame him for feeling that way. Perhaps you did come off a little anxious.

“I don’t know… I guess I just want to prove something to you.” You sigh, still pissed off by the pain in your hand. You’re so distracted by it that you hardly notice him walking towards you. His gentle and soft bare hands take your fist away from your mouth. You’re tentative at first, but let him take it in his hand, cupping it in between his and looking down at your red skin. You frown mostly out of frustration, but the pain is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. Princesses aren’t supposed to feel pain.

Before you can blink, he pulls his top hand away and takes it to lift up his helmet just above his lips. The angle makes it so you can’t see any of his face but you understand. He bends down and kisses your knuckles in the same fashion one would when greeting you, but this was so much more intimate. His lips were like satin against your skin and the butterflies in your stomach fly right back. The physical pain didn’t go away, but the anger around it did. Your heart softened and wished he would kiss your lips but he’s already pulling the beskar back over his jaw. You sigh from the gesture, he was so romantic and you don’t even think he’s trying to be. He’s just trying to be kind and patient with you and it’s doing something to your heart that you don’t know if you can handle anymore.

“So… how do you waltz?” He asks, his hand still holding onto yours. You smile and sheepishly look down at your feet. You were unsure of how to begin, but were happy he was willing to learn.

“Okay.” You smile, “Well, you first need to loosen up. Stop being so stiff.” He tilts his head like you’re speaking a foreign language. “Like this.” You press your hands down on his shoulder pauldrons, he tries to rest them but fails and you chuckle just a little. “Roll them back.” You explain and do it yourself, he attempts to follow, and actually is able to relax a little bit more this time. Knights are always so stiff, you think it will be good for him to relax every now and then. “Good, now this hand goes here…” You lift his right hand to rest on your waist and he immediately settles into it, already feeling more comfortable now that he is holding you. You place your left hand on his shoulder, pulling your bodies a little closer together. He wanted your torsos to be flush against one another, “No, we have to keep our distance so we have room to do the steps.” You explain.

“Well that’s no fun.” He sighs. You blush and giggle.

“If we get this done I promise you can hold me as long as you want.” You tilt your head trying to make a fair compromise.

“Fine.” He’ll take it.

“Great, now we hold these hands.” You take his left hand and hold it into yours. “That’s the basic position, I learned it as home position, got it?”

“Home position…?” He repeats.

“Mhm.” You nod, your faces are close and you would give anything to feel his breath against yours. “It’s important that we sort of… ‘glide’ like we bounce as we dance, it will make it prettier.” He was convinced you were always pretty no matter what you tried or did, but we guessed he would comply this time. Your voice goes quiet and soft, the mood immediately changing from teasing to harmonious. “And your feet… okay this is sort of complicated but your left foot will go forward as my right goes back-“ You keep looking down at the floor as you try to explain the steps but his gaze is on your face, hardly listening to what you're saying and only being engulfed in your face and the way you talked about doing something you loved. You were so beautiful and you didn’t even know it.

You must have been talking for a while without really listening to yourself because he was slowly pulling you into his torso and closing the space without you really noticing that you were inches closer than you were before. “-and then your left foot will slide to meet your right foot-“ the last word fades out as you slowly look back up to his face which was now up close to yours, your bodies pressed together and both of his hands on your hips, his thumb rubbing soft circles into your back. Your heart skips a beat and you forget how to breathe as you look up at him and it just felt… right.

Your hands lift from his pauldron to his helmet and you want to take it off so badly. You knew it was too fast still, and he would remove his helmet for you when he felt like he could. At least that’s what you hoped for. It should be his decision, no one else’s. But your hands are grazing the bottom of the beskar and everything feels so right. He’s so still and his breath is quiet and for just a moment you think he might let you and then-

The door knob is turning slowly and both of you are splitting away all too fast, trying to make enough space between the two of you so it didn’t look suspicious. You both scramble, trying to put yourselves back together. The still and perfect moment was entirely gone when Prince Korkie opened up the door into the parlor. You tried not to look too shocked when his stupid perfect hair and young face looked on you. The knight held his hands behind his back to hide the fact that they were bare and side-eyed the gloves on the sofa that laid by the wet stain on the cushion. He silently prayed that the Prince wouldn’t notice them.

“Ah, princess I was wondering where you were.” He looked between the two of you. He didn’t seem too suspicious, thank the stars.

“Korkie! What are you doing?” You awkwardly laugh. Your hands fold at waist level, and you fix your posture.

“Did… I walk in on something?” He asks and your whole body goes numb. You swallow and try not to pass out. The truth is yes, he did walk in on something very important to you, but here we are.

“Oh! No, we were just…” You search around the room looking for something to take the attention away from you and the knight, “Admiring the beautiful dress the Elves gave me!” You walk to the heavy, iridescent gown on the clean sofa, picking it up to show him. You smile desperately, hoping that would be enough.

“Ah yes! It is beautiful, isn’t it?” He nods, smiling. You sigh of relief when he falls for the bait. You set the dress back down.

“Can I do anything for you?” You ask,a king sure there was no attention on the knight being you.

“I… just wanted to spend a bit of time with you. My aunt informed me of the changes to the Ball. What a wonderful idea!”

“Why thank you.” You smile, taking a few steps towards him in a hopeless attempt to not seem so suspicious.

“Yes! I had just received the RSVPS from a number of the guests. Your parents, the twins of Naboo, the senator of Alderaan and Princess of Chandrila and I’m pleased to say that we’ve found no suspicion of any attack from Coruscant!” Stars, he talks a lot. You aren’t sure how he can have any more breath to talk. You were starting to decide that you liked the boys who were more reserved.

Well… one boy.

“Oh… Um, of course. That’s great news.” You nod and finish your walk towards him, suddenly hyper-aware of the fading scratches on your collar bone.

“Come with me, we should review the letters together.” You look back at the knight apologetically before walking into the hallway with the Prince. This isn’t exactly how you hoped your afternoon would go...

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Part ten

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prxttypxrker · 3 years

Text

secrets: rewritten [peter parker]

fandom: marvel/spider-man

pairing: peter parker x female!reader, dad!tony stark x reader

word count: 4.1k

part: one two three four

summary: y/n transferred to midtown for her junior year. after becoming fast friends with the trio, a rift forms when peter starts his stark internship for a second year. distance makes two hearts grow fonder, and with them come secrets. will anyone come clean when the class takes a trip across the ocean?

disclaimer: takes place during the events of far from home but in a world where tony barely survived and deals with the after effects; dialogue that follows the movie will be word for word excluding (of course) the reader’s lines, and all action scenes for peter (and others) will be written to the best of my ability. events in europe will all be adjusted to fit the change in storyline

taglist: @hollymac79 @lost-in-translating @avengerstanforlife @ex0

three

The intense stare you were receiving made you shrink back in your seat, arms crossed as the only sliver of defiance you had in that moment. The events of that same afternoon felt like a blur, yet at the same time you remembered every detail.

You were frozen once the ringing echoed its way around the white walls of the store. Continuing to leave would have only brought more attention, meaning that even though there would be more witnesses to the robbery, they’d also be in a form of danger. Heavy footsteps approached your still figure, and you whirled around ready to act on whatever it was the man would be.

What stopped you from doing so was the mask.

Amongst the dark shades of his clothes was the main event of his disguise. If it weren’t under such circumstances there was a very high chance you would question why he chose such a thing to cover his facial features. The red and gold of the cover-up was too familiar, and you remembered feeling a scowl form at the sight of it.

You just didn’t understand why people continued to use the faces of those who defended them time and time again to commit a crime. There was nothing to gain but more money coming in on the end of the stores they bought the masks from, anyway. The fact that one of the heroic symbols was being used to do such a thing riled you up to a level that wasn’t recommended for the situation.

And still, you glared up at the man, the left side of your brain wanting nothing more than for you to listen and wait until someone came to help. “Take it off.” He didn’t respond verbally, only grabbed your forearm to bring you to where the rest of the bodies in the room were. It didn’t take much struggling to bring your arm back to your side but instead of returning to a clear spot, you chose to stand behind the counter. The anonymous man let out a groan, going toward you once more only to watch as you moved further with each step he took. “Come on. Do you really want to be the one responsible for the life of an innocent child? Harmed by your hands?”

A rough, humorless chuckle. “You’re bold, kid.”

You perked up, leaning against the back wall of the shop as the other patrons looked on in worry and confusion. “Thank you! I get it from my dad. If you ask me though, he’s more impulsive than bold-”

“That little snippet about me isn’t going to get you out of trouble. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

When you opened your mouth to retaliate, the stern gaze kept you from doing so. Instead, you mumbled a statement that - even though it sounded better in your head - didn’t come out that way. “He didn’t even have a weapon.”

“I’m sorry, hold on—are you mumbling at me? Are you trying to get grounded?”

Sinking into the interior of the couch, you grew silent once again, maintaining the wide eyed stare of the man standing in front you. He was never very intimidating to you unless it was during a state of emergency or you accidentally interrupted him when he was working. This was one of the rare occasions you’d done something reckless, and barely a year into you living with him, no less. It was moments like these you wished his fiancé was around to soften any blows and keep him calm. Unfortunately for you, she was handling business out of state and wouldn’t be back for several days.

After thirty seconds of uncomfortable silence, you sighed and looked at him pleadingly. “Please don’t ground me. I have plans with my friends to map out our school trip.”

“I’m going to ignore the weird fact that you made plans to make plans.” He responded, a hand sliding down his face. When he made eye contact with you again, there was a sternness that didn’t bloom much when it came to family. Not unless it was out of exhaustion or concern—just as it was right now. “Do you not understand what could’ve happened?”

“Yes, I do-”

“Really? Because talking back to a criminal and refusing to cooperate doesn’t make it seem like you do. What if he was armed? Did you think about that?”

“Dad-”

“You not only put your life at risk, you risked the lives of the other people who were there. You didn’t think at all.” He barely let you get words in for a defense or an actual explanation, and seeing him close his eyes in order to take deep breaths made you realize just how serious this was. Not that it wasn’t before, however the gravity of the situation didn’t exactly hit until you were watching him try to keep his cool. A man who was known for his witty remarks and snarky side comments, inhaling and exhaling so he wouldn’t spiral in front of his teenage daughter. “Go to your room, please.”

Glancing up at his anxious state, you just gave a meek nod before pushing yourself off the couch. When you looked back, he was already slack against the sofa, trying to stretch out his right shoulder.

The steps were quiet against the carpet, yet even then they seemed to be the loudest things in the world. You were dumb to do what you did, you knew that. You were just as impulsive as he was (or used to be), but it didn’t deter from the look on his face when he arrived at the scene and saw you there.

Confining you to school and the house seemed unfair in the short moment of rebellion, especially when he announced it would last for a month. You had to check in when you arrived at Midtown and when you left, and thanks to MJ telling the others like she said she would, you were also subject to Ned asking questions and Peter worrying over you. You were more grateful than ever for your best friend’s nonchalant stance on things during those lunch hours.

You thought it would be exhausting, having to bustle around the house with only chores to really keep you busy. But the more you would lounge around doing homework and projects, the more time you also spent with your dad.

Growing up, you had no idea who your father was. All you were ever told was that your parents met at a party in New York City, had nothing short of a one night stand more than anything, and when your mother found out she was pregnant she made the decision to keep you a secret. Having been out of her second round of college for just a few years, she moved in with your aunt to a more suburban area. That was where you were raised, and when your mom passed away during fifth grade, her sister became your legal guardian. Regardless of all the love and support you’d felt, losing your mom only sparked the question of who had the other half of the gene pool. After extensive begging research, you found out who he was, and with the worst case of timing.

It was right before the spaceship was seen traveling through the blue sky of New York. All you could do that day was stare at the news channel as they reported Iron Man was seen flying towards the giant wheel, and when he disappeared with it the breath hitched in your throat. You felt like everything was spinning and about to crash down on you.

It’s been six years since the Snap took out half of the universe. Two since he made the ultimate sacrifice with the rest of the heroes and brought back everyone who got taken away. One and a half since convincing your aunt to let you travel alone and ended up knocking on the door of a mansion in Upstate New York. One since he accepted you with open arms and you moved in because holy shit he really did have family before Pepper and Morgan, and now his almost seven year old will have a big sister. You were more surprised than anyone when he introduced you to them and after shock faded away you were suddenly in a hug; a woman’s arms around you and a little girl tugging your shirt to ask such simple questions. As much as you loved your mom’s side of the family and would always be grateful for your aunt, being at that big house on the cliff felt like home. And when you saw the damage his sacrifice had done to his body, you promised not to cause too much trouble. You were too afraid of the risk that you’d lose him as quickly as you found him.

But here you were, a week of probation remaining until you were thrown back into a normal world of friends and socialization outside the walls of education.

It wasn’t as bad as movies and tv shows made them out to be. You didn’t want to sneak out or convince your parents to let you have someone over just once and then you wouldn’t ask again. Pepper returned from the business trip several days after your punishment was put into play, which was the only reason you were allowed to keep the A.I you started building up and running. Morgan was also helping herself to your room every chance she got to tell stories about what happened at her own school and ask you to play with her. And Happy was definitely tired of you asking him to give updates on the thing with Peter’s aunt since you couldn’t ask the boy yourself without him cringing.

You occasionally went out on the terrace that overlooked the oceanic cliff after finishing up any chores or upgrades for your A.I, and every time you did there he stood, staring at nothing. You bonded with Tony more in this one spot than when he’d let you assist him and vice versa. There weren’t gadgets or holograms or scientific discoveries being made. Just you and the man who helped bring you into this world, having talks that no one but those closest to him had ever experienced. You counted it as a blessing that he thought you’d grown so close to one another he could talk about his personal life.

It was just small things at first: how he and Pepper met, the number of suits he’d built over the years, what Morgan was like as a baby. At some point in the past three weeks, however, it changed. He started telling his story from the very beginning. Getting kidnapped in the desert and building the first suit of iron. Making the decision to use it to help keep people safe. The countless amount of bad guys and aliens he’d fought either by himself or with the Avengers. The inner circle war (in which he conveniently left out the part about a certain boy joining in). Almost losing Pepper or her losing him. The universal war against Thanos and the major toll on his body. He didn’t know if he’d recover in a way where he wouldn’t feel shooting pain across his limbs every time something made him stressed or tense. The one time you actually said anything yourself during the stories was when the anxiety shakes and panic attacks came in. That was when you opened up about your own struggles before barging into his life and then after, making him swear that if not his wife or best friend, he would go to you when he felt everything start to crumble in on him. A lot for a seventeen year old to carry on her shoulders, but you were insistent.

Today was a little odd, though, because when you took your place beside him the air felt awkward. “What’s up, Dad?”

There it was: the little smirk you’d get every time you called him Dad or joked around and called him Daddio. “Happy’s been keeping me up to date on all your interactions outside of school.”

You nodded, leaning on the railing in front of you as you dramatically stretched your arms towards the sea. “So it’s come to this.. the father has begun to spy on the teenage daughter. And begrudgingly, she begs to know what it is he’s come to find that he felt he must meet her in such a way as staring out at the ocean on the terrace. And while she begs.. she also recoils at the thought.” You finished, bowing your head just enough to signal the end of the scene.

“Wow. That was quite the performance. A little much, I have to say but we’ll work on that later.” He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving a smile that you learned a while ago meant he had a secret he so desperately wanted to tell. “I want to talk about the kid.”

“Well, Pepper is inside reading her a story. Did you want me to-?”

“Not what I meant.” Tony cut you off, turning so his back was against the glass fencing. You watched with curiosity as he fished a cell phone out of his pocket, flipping it once in the air before presenting it to you. “Why exactly is my intern sending you twice as many messages as your other friends?”

All he received was a soft hum before you turned toward him fully. Thinking the reason he held the device out was his way of saying you could have it back, you reached out to grab it, just for him to pull it away. Letting out a quiet huff, you looked up at him. “You know, I really do love the enthusiasm in trying to get something out of me. But the fact is that deep down you don’t want to know the answer because this is high school stuff and the thought of me and Peter is a little too much for you to handle.”

Tony Stark stared down at the high school student who had no problem bluntly putting herself out there. He tried to read her gaze and failed. As tempted as he was to invade your privacy even more just to find out that one detail, it was true that he wanted no part in that. No parent wanted to know that someone they took under their wing regained a crush on their kid. It didn’t even matter if he somehow survived the ordeal of what he did two years ago. Nor did it matter that before now, he battled enough people, extraterrestrials and panic attacks to last him a lifetime. His girls jumping into the dating pool was a whole other ball park. Especially when the other half of the pair was a crime fighting hero clad in red and blue.

Leveling the stare he was being given, he was still itching to make a remark. Yet before another word could be uttered, heels could be heard clicking their way onto the shining ground of the very large balcony. “We talked about this.” Pepper stated, files she had to go through already piled in her arms as she stared at her fiancé. Every time you saw the ring, you wondered why a date wasn’t set before remembering past events, figuring that the symbolism was more important than the physical marriage. “You can’t just come out here and ambush her in a sentimental moment to get information.”

“Just to clarify for everyone here,” Tony gestured to you both before pointing at her, “you talked. I was listening until I heard the word no, and then you lost me.”

The playfully smug look on his face wiped away when she raised an eyebrow. The redhead looked down at you with a smile, shifting the files before tilting her head toward the glass doors. “Go ahead. I’m sure you still have some homework.”

“Yes, I do. I definitely do. Thank you so much.” You almost whispered, the words rushing out all at once as you gave her a quick side hug and made your way.

Letting the banter between the couple fall into the background, you traveled to the kitchen in order to grab some snacks before heading back to your room. While rummaging through the refrigerator, a sort of static buzz filled the open concept area, signaling someone was at the door downstairs. “Mr. Stark? A-are you there? I got your message,” came through the speakers.

Oh shit. Your eyes grew at the familiar voice, and as quickly as your dad made his way back into the house you made a b-line to your bedroom.

A sudden whirring could be felt coming from the silver medal pendant hanging around your neck, and another voice introduced itself. “Your heart rate is higher than usual, Miss Y/N. Shall I conduct the Parker Protocol?”

Shushing your A.I system with as much calmness as possible, you waited until the door to your room was shut all the way. Sliding down the closed entryway, you let out a huge sigh. “No offense, AVA.. but I kind of wish I added a volumizer to your program.”

“My apologies, Miss. It’s just that your heart at this moment matches the same rhythm as when you speak to Peter. I assumed you would want to initiate-”

Cutting her off, and apologizing after doing so, you let out an anxious breath as you flopped onto your bed. “Please do.”

“Of course.” Within seconds, the usual interior of where you slept transformed into a holographic version that included a view of Queens from a smaller window, less modern furniture, no photos of you with anyone you lived with, and pet supplies with a circular bed in the corner beside your door because your aunt had a cat. You really needed to convince someone to get a dog or something later on.

The Parker Protocol was put in almost immediately when you first started programming them into AVA (Advanced Virtual Assistant). You didn’t necessarily have a crush on him at the time, or at least it was before you noticed. It was right before he started his internship at Stark Industries, and he’d been doubting himself as an intern because there was a lack of contact for a couple of months. There was a moment of panic when he mentioned giving the tech mogul a visit before the first day back. Having already been good friends with the small group, and wanting to avoid more aftermath chaos for your family, you felt keeping your relation under wraps was the best course of action. You spent that whole weekend putting together the new addition to AVA’s system; a camouflage effect that would make your bedroom look less tech savvy and more homey. After all, you also had to keep up the facade that your aunt moved to Queens and that’s who you continued to live with because your dad was a busy man.

“Mr. Stark, please.”

“We already talked about this.”

“Peter?” You uttered quietly, turning your head towards the door that was perfectly plain on the other side.

Footsteps were heard making their way down the hallway. You knew it wasn’t right to eavesdrop. And taking into consideration that you were trying very hard to remain a hidden factor in Tony’s life, it added more of a do not disturb vibe. Although, if someone close to you was pleading, you just had to know. It was human instinct. Sometimes things just took over without your permission or having full control over your body. A natural reaction to accidentally catching even a fraction of what could turn out to be interesting news. You would deal with any remorse or guilt later if need be. But right now? Right now you had to do it; mainly because AVA sensed your curiosity and already heightened the noise from outside your room to the speakers that were previously shut off.

Quickly and silently you fished around for the headphones in your nightstand and plugged them into your laptop, the bodiless persona transferring the live feed audio to the open device. You could practically feel the stress and anxiety of your father as AVA used the security cameras to follow the pair and keep the sound steady.

“I was out there, too. I was gone for a long time but we all came back, and I helped go up against Thanos. You made me an Avenger when we were on a spaceship, Mr. Stark. You told me I did the best I’d ever done.”

What was he talking about? Thanos? An Avenger?

You leaned into the dimly lit screen, senses now on high alert the more you listened in.

“We’re gone, kid.” Your dad stated, now in his office as the other teenager in the house sat in a chair, hunched over with his hands folded together. “The Avengers are done. There’s no Iron Man without me and I can’t do anything like this.” You watched your dad gesture to the scars that were barely showing underneath the clothes and blazer, a breath catching in your throat at the underlying sadness he had of not being able to help people with the suit anymore. “You did do your best work on Titan, and I’m proud of you but-”

“Can I say something?”

“I was kind of on a roll here but.. yeah.” You couldn’t even chuckle at the casual way he addressed what was going on.

Peter sucked in a deep breath before looking up at his mentor, his legs shaking a bit before he stood up to look the billionaire in the eye. “I’m so grateful for everything you’ve taught me, and all the things you’ve done to help me get better. You can’t snap your fingers and make something happen but at least keep me up to date. I can handle more than what’s in Queens. I want to do more. I want to be more... like you.”

Remembering a similar conversation from over five years ago struck a chord with the man, and he looked down at the brunette. Being like him meant putting your life on a much higher line. “And I will always want you to be better.”

Peter ruffled his hair out of the frustration that was steeping through, his exhausted tone softening because of the conversation and sentiment at hand. “I can’t just go back to being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

“I can’t just go back to being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

“...go back to being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

“being Spider-Man.”

“Spider-Man.”

As your movements stopped and senses left and emotions faltered, the whirring returned in the cool metal sitting upon the top of your chest. All three voices faded out as you held the necklace in your hand, hoping the feeling of it would keep you intact with the current reality.

No one you knew was Spider-Man; the closest anyone ever got was Flash fangirling over him. Meaning it was a joke—right? A friendly game between him and your dad because everyone knew who was inside the iron suit and that he was affiliated with the webbed hero.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe. The air became trapped in your throat and every inch of the room was spinning and you could barely make out AVA keeping track of the rapid heartbeat while trying to instruct you on how to remain calm.

Was this the internship? Were you that oblivious to not make the connection? Peter keeping the secret was one thing because you were keeping something from him, too. But did Ned and MJ already know? Were they aware their best friend had been out risking his life for who knows how long? And why didn’t your dad ever tell you? Surely it was worth mentioning at some point. Was anyone ever going to tell you what was going on outside these walls?

As your breathing got heavier, the metal of the pendant expanded. It crawled across your shoulders, down your arms and torso, and covered the rest of your body in a sleek, metallic suit that you had never seen before. A helmet followed soon after, spraying out a puff of mist that cooled you down for barely a moment. Staring down at the new appearance, your eyes widened more than you felt was possible. Glancing at the screen to find the office now empty and talk ended, footsteps coming back down the hall towards the open living room, you looked back down at yourself.

“What the hell is going on?”

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eleven-times-lively · 4 years

Text

Cheeky Niffler

Hello👋 I have a request for Newt Scamander where the reader is an archeologists and they met when the niffler tried to steal something that the reader had found

I love this gif for many reasons. I was thirsty while writing this and ummm... it’s obvious💕

Summary: One of Newt’s nifflers caused a disruption in your work, forcing you and Newt together. Word Count: 2000 Note: I love this idea and story! I was in kind of a writing slump the past week and couldn’t seem to write (I even abandoned a story), so I’m glad to finally get something out! slightttt smut?

You sniffled lightly, carefully dusting off the glinting object in your hand. It had only been a few years since you graduated, but you were now a leading archaeologist with the ministry. Your job took you to many interesting places, and you met many interesting people. Little did you know that today would be no different. You turned the object over in your hands, some ancient looking piece of jewelry. Perhaps a bracelet that had succumbed to the efforts of time. Several small gems peaked out amongst the gold strands, catching the light perfectly. You placed the object down for a moment so you could write your notes on the tiny notepad you carried, but when you turned back the bracelet was gone. You searched the ground around you, but to no avail. You then heard a light shouting, growing increasingly loud.

“Get back here you cheeky- ooohh running away again I see!”

You stood up and looked around, bewildered and concerned. That was when you saw him. A kind looking man dressed in a dapper blue coat with a yellow vest underneath, tied together with a neat black bow. He didn’t look wrong, just out of place. You were in the middle of a vast, dry forest, and he looked like he belonged in the city. You had just realised that he was charging directly at you. You stared on in surprise, eyes wide, and you braced for impact. He stopped short just a foot away from you, crouching down to the ground. You were so frightened and perplexed that you stayed frozen in your spot, even as the man stood and was speaking to you.

“Miss?”, he repeated for the umpteenth time.

Finally snapping out of your daze you met his gaze, “Huh?”, was all you could manage. You were already enthralled by the very sight of him. His eyes held such depth and emotion you could practically see the countless stories they held. The deep, complex blue stared back at you, narrowing slightly.

“Umm,” he muttered, “Terribly sorry but I believe I have something of yours.” He held up the bracelet, inviting you to take it back. You once again snapped out of your daze, lightly grabbing the bracelet and placing it in your bag, never breaking eye contact. You had never seen someone so… beautiful. He wasn’t extraordinarily striking, he certainly wasn’t some sought after bachelor, but there was something so fascinating about him. The innocent smile, the rounded cheekbones, and the peppering of freckles all came together to create the stunning man that was mere inches from you. What felt like an eternity went by before he spoke again, realising you wouldn’t. “One of my nifflers snatched your…”

“Bracelet!” You interjected, a little too excited.

“Right,” he smiled, “They’re terribly attracted to shiny objects I’m afraid.” He chuckled, fiddling with the creature in his hands awkwardly.

“No bother,” you smiled at him, reaching forward to pet the niffler, “I think he’s adorable.” You could have sworn you saw the man blush.

“Oh how rude of me!”, he exclaimed, meeting your gaze one again. “Newt Scamander,” he said, letting the niffler climb up his arm so he could extend a hand to you.

“Charmed,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “Y/n.” There was an awkward lull of silence, neither of you knowing how to proceed.

“So you’re here for work?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, his kind expression almost overwhelming.

“Yes!” You loved any opportunity to talk about your job. “I’m with the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” you smiled proudly at him. “ The International Magical Trading Standards Body to be specific,” you added, blushing and turning away slightly.

You didn’t notice Newt’s eyes narrowed as he looked at you up and down. A lightbulb went off in his head and he nearly jumped up and down in excitement. “Pardon, but are you Y/n Y/l/n, as in the head of the Trading Standards Body?”

You turned back, a shy smile creeping across your face. “I am. Youngest ever to be appointed, actually. I started as an archaeologist with Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, but I suppose my knowledge was more useful elsewhere. I was brought in to settle disputes on the origins of objects, and a few projects later… I was appointed,” you chuckled awkwardly, hoping you didn’t sound boastful.

“Outstanding!”, he mused. “I heard about you and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed. And don’t sell yourself short! Merlin, I’ve read both of your books, and Miss you are extremely brilliant. I’m afraid my position may be less impressive to you,” he slowly trailed off, yet his gaze never left yours. “Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, beast division.” He smiled proudly, quite pleased with himself.

“Brilliant!”, you exclaimed. “Magical creatures have always fascinated me. If I wasn’t devoted to archaeology I probably would have pursued something in your field, Mr. Scamander.” You flashed a warm smile, but could sense him growing nervous.

“I apologise, Miss,” he quickly said. “I feel I may have sounded a bit crass or perhaps out of place. Do forgive me.” His face blushed a cherry red as his eyes cast downward. The niffler on his shoulder cocked an eye at you.

“Pardon?”, you question as it quickly pieced together in your head. Surely you were right around the same age as him, but you must terrify him. The amount of power you hold, and what you can do with it, must be at least a little intimidating. “Oh! Merlin, it’s quite alright. Please, don’t treat me any different.”

Newt felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders as he let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Well, pleasure to meet you Miss y/l/n. Here’s to the hope that we shall cross paths again.” He nodded his head at you and turned to return to wherever he came from.

“Wait!,” you called after him, “Mr. Scamander!”

He turned back, lifting an eyebrow as his head tilted to the side. He slowly walked back over to you. His lips pursed slightly as he stood before you, waiting expectantly.

“If you aren’t busy, would you like to join me for tea? I’m just about finished here.” You smiled at him, hiding your nerves well. You took in his expression: poorly masked excitement. You quickly added, “And not for a business meeting, Newt” You flashed a cheeky grin up at him.

“Oh… oh.” That would be lovely, Miss. I know a fantastic cafe just around a ways away in the town. He was blushing, returning your smile.

“Brilliant. We can meet there in…” you glanced at your watch, “thirty minutes?” He nodded and smiled at you, taking a mental note. “Oh and Newt,” you replied, “Call me y/n.”

***

The short time later you were seated in the quaint cafe, gazing out the large front window. You spotted Newt coming up the long road, looking absolutely giddy. You smiled to yourself, perking your head up at him when he entered. He took a seat, looking as if he had dashed here in a hurry. He placed his case down, finally stopping his movements for a moment to get a good look at you.

You gingerly picked up your teacup, motioning towards him. “It’s a rare blend, Newt. Imported from France.”

He hummed in interest, picking up his own cup and taking a sip. Once again humming in satisfaction, he placed the cup down and looked at you. “So, y/n, if I may ask, what is this if not a business meeting?”

“I think you know Newt.” You lightly chuckled as he returned the smile. “So, tell me, what brings you here? So far from London.”

“Oh, well,” he responded, immediately perking up, “I’m studying the land in an attempt to find a rather elusive type of pixie. They’re known to be picky about climate, so I’ve been sent all across the country to determine where they might be.”

“Fascinating,” you replied.

“And yourself?”

“Yes, well, the sight was the known location of a civilization ages ago, but our neighbors to the north have laid claim to any objects found at the sight. My team and I are trying to find as many objects as possible to hopefully connect a story as to their true origin. Or at least work out a deal with the wizards in Scotland. Normally I wouldn’t join in on the excavations, but this one seemed particularly interesting.”

“Well it worked out fantastically for you didn’t it?” He winked over the brim of his cup, taking another sip.

“I suppose it did.” You winked back at him, laughing playfully.

The two of you spent the next hours or so chatting like old friends. Everything from Hogwarts and climbing the ministry ladder to the changing economy and where Newt purchased his exquisite outfit.

You both stood, heading out the door and stopping at the street. “I hate to sound overzealous, but it’s getting late. Newt, care to return to my hotel with me.”

Newt was about to pass out as his jaw practically hit the ground. “Absolutely.” He smiled, lacing his fingers with your own as the two of you walked.

You reached the nice hotel a few blocks later. The two of you ventured up to your room, where you fumbled with the key. Once the door was shut, you swiftly locked it and pulled Newt into a kiss.

He tensed in surprise at first, but quickly reciprocated. The kiss quickly deepend, and your tongue was about to meet his when he pulled away. “Y/n,” he breathed out, cupping your face in his hands, “Are you sure about this?” You nodded, fumbling with the buttons of his vest. He chuckled, placing a hand over yours on his chest. “I want to hear you, love.”

“Yes, Newt,” you practically moaned out. Satisfied, he leaned back down to press hips lips to your own.

The kiss quickly returned to the same passion, the two of you stumbling over to the bed. You both quickly flung your clothes off, never stopping your actions.

***

The next morning you woke up to a sleeping Newt beside you. You ran a hand along his bare chest, causing him to stir.

“Morning, love,” he groaned, voice laden with sleep.

“Morning, Newtie.” You both shared a blush and a smile before reluctantly leaving the bed.

You both dressed when he came over to you, wrapping his arms around your waste. “This was all wonderful, dear. What a pleasure it was to have met you.”

You chuckled, leaning up to give him a kiss. You both so obviously didn’t want to return to work. “It’s a shame I’ll be heading back to London tomorrow. When will I see you at the Ministry offices again?”

He glanced downward, not wanting to respond. “I’m afraid I don’t know. I have all of England to explore, and I’m only just over halfway there.”

“Oh,” you whispered. “How long have you been out so far?”

“Four months.” A heady air washed over the room, the two of you each taking a step back.

“I can maybe move some things around…” you offered, “have your assignment changed.”

“That’s not necessary.” He noticed your crestfallen expression and took a step forward, taking your hand in his own. “Y/n, my darling, I am more than confident we will meet again soon. I shall be so pleased to even hope. My work is important, as is yours. The universe and ways will align properly, and we will encounter each other again when appropriate.”

You gave a shy smile, barely nodding. “Until we meet again, Newt. Fifth floor, you know where to find me.”

All he could do was smile and nod. He gave you one last kiss before slipping out of the door.

You sighed deeply, already counting down the moments to when you’d see one and other once again.

Do we want a part 2??

Newt Taglist: @whenpugzfly @luckygirl144 @hockeyzegras @hess016 @hariosborn @it-was-three-am

#HP #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander fluff #newt scamander oneshot #newt scamander fanfiction #newt scamander smut #niffler #nifflers #fantastic beats and where to find them

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equallyloyalandlethal · 3 years

Text

Thiam Drabble #6

What’s Enough?

The air around Theo thickened as he stepped back from the hospital bed, hands curling into white-knuckled fists at his side. He hated being here. Everything was clinically sterile, but the sharp smell and fear that couldn’t be washed out or masked just due to the sheer volume saturating every inch of the building.

“I’m—I’m sorry. I'm not who you need,” he said, shaking his head again.

This whole situation was his fault. He knew it, and so did everyone else. Everyone except Liam. Stupid, infuriating, forgiving Liam who rivaled Scott’s tendency for seeing the better side of people. This should have finally woken Liam up enough for the wolf to tell him to fuck off and put the kibosh on whatever this thing was between them. Unfortunately, he overestimated the level of rationality he was capable of. That and and Liam’s engrained stubbornness far exceeded what Theo could talk around with the state his animals were in.

The coyote was still screaming for blood, itching to track down the idiot who landed the blows and rend him limb from limb, while his wolf wanted nothing more than to plant himself next to Liam and not move again. They were ripping him in two in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time. Merging their desires wasn’t hard, most of the time. Survival was the coyote’s main instinct, which was easy enough to twist around when he needed to. The wolf was harder. Those instincts screamed about pack and connection louder than anything else. Before he was thrown in Hell he could manipulate it well enough. But since then…

He huffed, dreaded the moment both of them got on the same page, what with his self-control reserves at an all time low.

"But you're who I want. Isn't that enough?” Liam’s question was so quiet, he wouldn’t have thought he had said it at all if he wasn’t in the room.

He shrank back a step, turning his head away as his eyes started to prickle. Where was the chimera that murdered his friends without a care, who schemed his way into a pack by breaking up a lifelong friendship? Hot tears gathered at the corner of his eyes, damn near burning his skin the longer he let them sit there. Wiping them away would mean acknowledging them, which he was not about to do. He had a reputation to maintain.

“Theo scrunched his face, hating the sharp sourness leeching into Liam’s scent, his chest clenched, like a vise-grip was tightening around, knowing he caused the hurt. “Besides, it’s not like I ever really belonged here anyway.”

“Wait.” Liam sat up so abruptly Theo cringed internally at the thought of how the stitches had to have pulled. “You’re leaving?”

The way his voice nearly broke, straining to get the words out before the pain and fear overtook the ability, made Theo flinch. This was supposed to keep Liam from being hurt, not make it worse. It’s all I’m good at, he grumped to himself, teeth grinding. It didn’t matter how much he changed in Hell, he would never be good or even good enough. Failure was the name of his game, and there was no changing it.

“Yes,” he said as he forced his head to turn and lifted his eyes.

Regret zinged through him as Liam met his gaze. Instead of the rough, volatile anger he was ready to battle against, he found soft brows and pained, glassy eyes. He took a breath to steady himself, only to be gut-punched by the sharp tang of Liam’s pain.

Tears rolled down both their cheeks.

“Theo, please—”

“You almost died because I’m a freak of nature, because I couldn’t step up, because I—” He grimaced as words caught in his throat, hating how it let him think about the words that nearly flew out of him.

Silence stretched between them, grating at his nerves more than the tears he couldn’t stop. His wolf and coyote were howling in unison, damn near screaming their want for the human version of sunshine laying in the hospital bed. He couldn’t listen to them, not this time, not after the woods.

“The best thing I can do is leave,” he said, turning to the door.

“That’s absolute bullshit,” Liam snapped, the growl in his words making Theo stop and look back at him. “You’re afraid and you’re running the other direction, just like with the Ghost Riders.”

He bit at the inside of his lips, trying to stop himself from back sliding the small distance he had managed to put between them. The hurt puppy-dog eyes Liam was giving him were decidedly not helping his resolve in the slightest.

“You put on a brave face, convincing everyone you’re happy on your own, but the truth is you’re terrified of any emotional connection.” Liam paused as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing and letting out a near inaudible squeak.

“Get back in bed before Melissa tranqs you.” Theo meant to say it as a threat, but the awkward tightness in his throat made it sound more like he was pleading.

As usual, Liam threw caution to the wind, white-knuckling the bed as he stood, never dropping his eyes from Theo’s. “Do you even know what love feels like?”

He couldn’t stop the snarl that ripped from him as his eyes flashed gold. Of course he knew! That’s why this whole mess was killing him. If he didn’t, nothing would have changed. Everything he was now started with that stupid emotion.

“When would I have had the chance to learn about it, huh? Between them shoving needles in my arms and opening my chest over and over and over again? When they praised my initiative for tearing out a failing chimera’s throat for the first time with no prompting? After I lied to yet another kid they conned into their clutches and told them it’d all be okay, despite the stench of death leaking out along with their black blood?”

His heart tightened at the memory of the sweet little girl, too young and innocent for such a wretched end. It was the only time his sister’s heart roared to life in all his years with the Doctors. She was so gentle. Too much so.

A roaring snarl ripped out of Theo as he shoved away her last moments, ignoring how his scar burned where her tiny fingers had grazed the skin. “I think I’m in love with you, but I’m not good enough. I never will be,” he said, turning away again. “And that sc—” He stumbled over the word, grinding his teeth, fighting against finishing the sentence. “It terrifies me, okay? It makes me shit bricks every time you go near a fight and paralyzes me when I think about losing you because I don’t want to go back to classic Theo but I don’t know how else I’d survive without you.”

For a moment he stood there, frozen. Those words had barely been given shape as thoughts. They weren’t supposed to leap out so readily! He shrank back, arms cinched across his chest like he could hold himself together through sheer force of will as he fought against his shoulders rolling forward.

He jerked back, claws and fangs dropping in a blink, as something touched his cheek. Luckily his head caught up in time to not rip through the already injured Liam standing right in front of him. Right in front, less than an arm’s length between them, with a soft smile he only ever saw once directed at someone that was definitely not him.

“Li—”

“No talking. Just listen, okay?” Liam moved his thumb to sit on Theo’s lips, effectively silencing the chimera. “I don’t care what you think of yourself, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You came back from so much trauma, shit that most people won’t even experience a sliver of in their whole lives, and you’ve been trying to do better every single day since I brought you back. There’s not a person alive, or dead, that I could ever feel safer with or more in love with than you, Theo.”

One second stretched into two, silent except for their erratic heartbeats. For once, his head was as quiet as the room, no instincts screaming at him to act differently. Instead, his inner wolf was damn near purring, overjoyed at the warm hand on his cheek, and the coyote was begrudgingly admitting that it agreed with this turn of events. Of all the times for you two to agree, he huffed, slowly closing his eyes and leaning into Liam’s touch.

Even he couldn’t argue how right it felt, but that didn’t mean his stomach knotted itself any less or the tremors in his hand subsided in the least. Letting positivity in had yet to end well for him or anyone else involved, and Liam was a positive in his life. The most positive thing, actually. The man was sunshine incarnate, just like that stupid princess movie he made them watch the other day. If whoever she was could help a shifty, no-good thief redeem themselves, maybe he could trust his sunshine to do the same.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28894329

#thiam #angst #theo raeken liam dunbar #Theo raeken needs a hug #Why do my teen wolf things end up with someone in the hospital?#Liam DunbarXTheo Raeken #Theo needs some self-esteem #Liam is sunshine #God i love these idiots #posted on AO3 #teen wolf #liam dunbar

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fadingcoast · 4 years

Text

Death Of The Lie || Chapter 28: Firstborn

AUTHORS: @fandom-and-feminism & @fadingcoast

Summary: Odin and his daughter Hela are the perfect conquerors of the universe. The nine realms fall one after the other into their clutch. After Odin takes a second wife and has a son with her, he doesn’t need Hela anymore. Hela abandons her father and ends up marrying Laufey, a sworn enemy of the Aesir people. Not long after, she becomes pregnant with Laufey’s child. Odin cannot let that son be born, but against all odds, the boy survives. Odin is forced to bring him back to Asgard to be raised as his own until he could make further use of him. The half-Jotun-half-Aesir boy grows up to look and act a lot like his mother, which disturbs Odin, and makes him treat the boy horribly. Odin’s lies are deep and complex, but one day the boy will find out the truth about everything he is.

PAIRING: Multi RATING: Teen

MASTERLIST

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs are encouraged!!

Chapter 28: Firstborn

The throne room was in ruins. Massive pieces of plaster littered the ground, forcing Thor to step over several of them as he looked around. Dust scattered around his feet with each step, the eerie silence broken only by the occasional clamor outside the castle walls. A piece of his own face looking at him made a shiver run down his spine.

Staring up at the ceiling, the images of war and bloodshed, slavery and death, made his stomach churn. Hela and Odin side by side. The king with his spear, Hela raising Mjolnir over her head. The king and his firstborn riding into battle, slaves building the very castle he was in right now. Images of a bygone era of which he knew nothing but what he had been told by Odin.

It disgusted him. Not only had his father lied to him about Hela’s existence, but about everything they did together. Everything they destroyed. These weren’t images of battles against enemies. This was slaughter. Nothing noble or glorious about it. The taste of bile burned his throat as he imagined just how many innocent people had to die for Odin to build his empire.

It was clear to Thor that Hela would want to continue this bloodshed. The evidence lay before his eyes, in a mural of death. There was a reason why his father had banished and imprisoned her. If he was to right his father’s mistakes, he had to start with the biggest one.

I can’t let her sit on the throne of Asgard.

Thor approached the throne, seeing it in a new light. His whole life he had known he would ascend to it, it was promised to him the moment he was born. He remembered looking at it when he was a little kid, how big it was, how big Odin seemed to be when sitting on it. Now it was a symbol of his own father’s tyranny, and it nearly made him sick to think about claiming it. But he was left with no choice. He gripped Gungnir with a shaking hand and took a deep breath before sitting on the throne.

A low rumble of thunder reverberated through the palace, and it was the first thing Hela and Loki felt when they appeared in his chambers.

Thor.

Conflicting thoughts warred in Loki’s head. On one hand he was relieved that Thor had survived, but if there was one thing he knew about his brother, it was that he wouldn’t give up the throne without a fight.

Forestalling whatever Hela might do, Loki stood in front of her.

“Let me go talk to him.”

“No,” Hela said. She attempted to push Loki aside but he stood his ground. “This is my battle. You’ve no need to interfere.”

“Please,” Loki implored her. “He has to know the truth.”

Hela smiled at her son. “Do you truly think knowing the truth will convince him to step down?”

Loki swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Thor wasn’t the one to listen before striking. Even if he did give Hela the time to explain, her words likely wouldn’t mean anything to him. If a fight started, it wouldn’t end until one of them was cold on the floor.

Once again, he would have to play mediator.

“Just…” Loki sighed, knowing full well that soon he’d have to make a choice between his brother and his own mother. And if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t certain who he would choose. “I only ask that you don’t attack him unless he attacks you.”

Hela considered this for a moment and nodded. “I suppose that’s fair enough, it’d be a shame to have to kill him.”

As they neared the throne room, Loki could sense a drastic surge of magic coming from his mother, likely the result of her strong connection to Asgard’s power. She walked taller, with a more commanding stride and a magical aura that Loki could feel crawling across his skin. At her full strength like this, she could easily collapse the castle if she engaged Thor in a fight.

The air in the hallway directly before the throne room carried the smell and taste of a thunderstorm, thick and metallic and all too familiar. Loki nearly froze when he came to a dangerous conclusion. Thor had possession of the King’s spear, Gungnir. Which meant only one thing.

Thor’s power had grown as well.

“Sister.”

It didn’t surprise Loki that Thor knew of their presence. Smiling, Hela walked closer to Thor, her palms facing him to show she was unarmed. Thor stared only at her, as though Loki wasn’t less than a step behind her.

“I see that you managed to find your way home, princeling,” Hela sneered, stepping over the pieces of plaster as she walked. “Like what you see?” She gestured towards the paintings on the ceiling.

Thor gulped hard. He had hardly looked away from the image of Hela holding Mjolnir since he sat on the throne. Again his eyes wandered back up of their own volition, betraying his thoughts.

“Ah. Mjolnir.” Hela followed Thor’s gaze and frowned at the mural in disgust. “Odin must have told you you were worthy. He said the same thing to me.” Thor remained silent but his grip on the spear tightened. “Worthy merely meant to be useful to Odin, following in his steps of course. I did, for a while.”

Thor stared at Hela, his fingers gripping Gungnir until his knuckles turned white.

“Odin, as Bor before him, drowned entire civilizations in blood and tears. Stole their gold, stole their people.” Hela advanced slowly towards the throne, never taking her eyes off Thor. “How do you think this very palace was built?” She pointed up towards the thousands of slaves depicted on the ceiling.

Thor shook his head. “I understand why you’re angry. You are my older sister, after all, and you have a claim to the throne. But if you wish to continue what our father stopped, I can’t let you sit on it.”

Hela laughed coldly and shook her head. “I see our father didn’t spare you the lies.”

Thor clenched his jaw, casting his eyes around the room. Briefly he looked over at Loki, then back at Hela. “That’s in the past.”

“That won’t give me my life back!” Hela swung her right arm out to her side and a jagged sword appeared in her hand. For a second, her mind traveled to the last time she had been in that room, in that same position talking to the King. The day her life was ruined. “You remind me too much of him. Step down or I’ll make you.”

Hela pointed her sword towards Thor, waiting for his reaction, sizing him up. Thor tensed, posed to jump at less than a second’s warning. Hela noted that he had the advantage of the throne’s height, and knew she had to either lure him off of it or get close enough for the difference not to matter.

Extending her other arm, she conjured another long jagged sword. The split second that Thor was distracted by it was enough time for Hela to swing her sword back over her shoulder and spin around, releasing the weapon towards Thor, who had to roll off the throne to avoid it. The sword wedged deep in the golden backrest.

When Thor looked up again, Hela was right above him, bringing her sword down and ready to split him in half. Thor grabbed Gungnir and held it over his head. Sword clashed against spear, the clang of metal on metal reverberating around the room as brother and sister dared the other to take the next strike.

Hela brought the other sword beneath the end of the spear and swung it upward, pulling it out of Thor’s grip and throwing it behind her. Gungnir slid across the floor and clattered at Loki’s feet. Loki looked down at the spear, stunned into silence and frozen into place, unable to do anything but watch.

Before Thor had a chance to react, Hela’s hand was around his throat. She leaned up from the floor and slammed Thor into the nearest wall with a wicked chuckle.

“Wait!” Loki called, slowly approaching Hela. Thor cut his eyes at Loki as he struggled to break free. “He’s unarmed. This is your chance to tell him the truth and spill no more blood.”

Hela didn’t take her eyes off of Thor, but the grip on the sword in her free hand slacked until it fell to the floor. “Stay out of this,” she hissed at Loki, and she raised her palm in warning. “Or I’ll make you.”

Loki took a step forward and immediately met powerful resistance. Hela had cast a shield around herself and Thor. Thor’s feet were no longer touching the ground as he uselessly clawed at Hela’s arm, trying to break free, his face beginning to take on a purple hue.

“Please!” Loki insisted. “He knows nothing of what you’ve told me. What Asgard has hidden from us all. He must know!”

But Hela would not listen. Having Thor this close only made her resentment grow. Had Odin not sired Thor, her whole life would have not gone down the path it did. His birth was the catalyst behind her banishment, behind Odin forsaking her. A fresh mind to twist to his will when I would no longer obey. To his credit, Odin had done a much better job with Thor.

The massacre of Jotunheim, a thousand years of imprisonment, the theft of her own child and all the misery Odin put Loki through.

Everything had been because of Thor.

She didn’t need him, she had no reason to keep him alive. In fact, alive he was a threat more than he was an asset.

“Odin destroyed my life, and yours, because of him.” Hela spoke to Loki again, but her eyes never left Thor’s. “I will repay the favor and do the same to his golden child.”

With a powerful blast of magic, Hela sent Loki out of the throne room and locked the doors. Try as he might, Loki could not counteract Hela’s seidr. He could not open the doors, he could not teleport inside, and he knew any weapon he could conjure would be useless against the gold and steel. Thor would have to fend for himself against an enemy he didn’t know how to deal with.

Inside the throne room, Hela put her jagged necrosword to Thor’s throat, right above where her hand was crushing his windpipe.

“Send my regards to the All-Father. I hope you both enjoy watching me take his place.”

Thor closed his eyes and gathered what strength still remained within him. Tendrils of lightning sparked from his hands and he managed to blast Hela backwards. It was a small shock, but it bought him enough time. He didn’t have time to recover, and rolled over to grab Gungnir once again.

Just in time, as a necrosword was already coming down toward his head. He blocked the blow with the spear and spun it towards Hela, sending a blast that hit her straight on the abdomen and pushed her back several feet.

Thor staggered to his feet and braced himself. Gripping Gungnir with both hands he felt the spear come alive, giving him strength. Hela might have been Odin’s firstborn, but secrets or not, Thor was Odin’s chosen one. Gungnir would protect him.

Hela stood before him, a jagged necrosword on each hand. Her attacks were fast and light, as if she was performing a dance around him, and Thor could barely keep up. It took all his energy but he blocked and parried her blows with the spear, reflexes on point to dodge her attacks. His lighting helped, but as Hela grew more and more impatient, Thor quickly realized this was a battle he wouldn’t win. He had to think of something else.

Hela cornered Thor on a pillar, necroswords mere inches from his throat, stopped only by Gungnir in between them, preventing Hela from closing them around his neck.

“Yield, little princeling, and your death will be swift and painless.”

Her swords slipped further close, biting the skin of Thor’s neck with a rush of searing pain. A thin trickle of blood ran down to his clavicle. Thor closed his eyes and took a deep breath, when something occurred to him.

She draws her strength from Asgard.

Asgard is not a place.

You are a destroyer, son of Odin. Heimdall’s yellow gaze bore in Thor’s eyes. You will bring about Ragnarok. You will destroy us all and save us all.

Ragnarok.

The Skull of Surtur.

With an anguished cry, Thor summoned a storm. Static filled the hall, making the metallic structures crackle and sparkle. A blinding flash of light exploded inside the throne room, and the sonic boom of the thunder that followed sent Hela flying to the dais. The doors were blasted off their hinges and the palace shook to its foundations.

Stumbling to his feet, a disoriented Thor sprinted out the throne room. Loki was just getting from under the debris when he saw Thor. Conflicted, he decided to follow him, wondering about his brother’s plan. Why was Thor going to the vaults? When he got to the door, he saw Thor placing Surtur’s crown on top of the Eternal Flame and everything made sense. Thor planned to destroy Asgard, and Hela with it.

“By the power of the eternal flame, you are reborn.” Thor recited.

“Do you have any idea of what you’ve done?!” Loki asked, stunned.

Thor didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed Loki’s clothes and slammed him against the nearest pillar.

“Make your choice, Loki. Ragnarok will be unleashed and Asgard destroyed.” Thor’s voice was quivering, as he found no joy in the decision he had to make. “You either come with me, or you stay and die with your mother.”

Loki gulped hard, and clenched his jaw. “Father taught you well if you’d rather destroy Asgard than to yield to the truth,” he spat.

Thor growled loudly with a deep disappointment written on his face. He threw Loki to the floor and ran out of the vaults.

Loki turned to watch the crown of Surtur. The flames engulfing the metal sparked the crown into life. It was impossible to do anything about it, no matter how powerful his seidr was. He could not stay to watch Surtur be reborn, he had to get Hela out of Asgard.

Back in the throne room, Hela was slowly gaining focus again after bashing her head on the throne’s steps. The first thing she saw was Loki sliding to the floor by her side.

“Thor has unleashed Surtur,” he said. “We don’t have time. We must go.”

To Loki’s surprise, Hela laughed as she slowly sat up to regain her bearings. The rumbling of the floor and the harsh scent of sulfur in the air didn’t seem to phase her. Finally she rose to her feet, her smile stretched unnaturally wide, and summoned yet another necrosword to her hand.

Loki’s heart sank, even in his panic. “You plan to fight him.”

“It is my duty to protect Asgard,” she simply said. “You must go.”

Loki shook his head. “I don’t want to leave you. You have to come with me.”

“Loptr,” Hela raised her hand as if she was going to touch Loki’s face, hesitating at the last moment. “I will always be grateful for these past few days. It might not have been much, but it was enough.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Oh, my son.” For the first time, Hela’s smile was not hard or forced. It was probably the first genuine smile Loki had seen on her. “You know the truth now, the whole truth. That will have to be enough.”

Loki clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. He knew if Surtur succeeded in destroying Asgard, Hela would die with it. And Hela knew it too. Part of him refused to lose what he had found.

Loki cupped Hela’s face with his hands and touched her forehead with his. “Thank you.”

Hela returned the gesture, her cold fingers trembling against Loki’s face.

“Go.”

Loki reluctantly took a step back and closed his eyes. He teleported to the rainbow bridge, where Thor and Heimdall were guiding the people on board a strange cruiser. He summoned a long cape and disguised himself to blend with the last group of Asgardians getting on board so he wouldn’t be seen or recognized.

“Heimdall,” Thor said, still staring at the city gates. “Where is he?”

“I cannot see him,” Heimdall answered. “Hela is the only one who remains inside the castle.”

A growing rumbling sound shook the ground, and the crystal beneath their feet began to crack. They had to leave. Thor clenched his fists and walked backwards to the door, as the last to board the cruiser.

Quietly, Loki made his way through the refugees, trying to keep a low profile. The cruiser was already airborne and soaring away from Asgard, but the echoes of the battle being held on land could be heard. And felt, as the cruiser jolted with each wave of sound that reached it.

Most of the Asgardians had gathered in a wide hall on one side of the cruiser, and watched the fight below through a massive glass pane. Thor was standing right in the center, body tense and jaw clenched. Eyes full of tears he could not yet spill.

Loki stood to the side, still hidden. In the distance he could see a small wisp of green light that he knew was Hela fighting the reborn fire giant that was Surtur. Several spikes pierced Surtur’s body, but they did little to slow him down. His obsidian sword slashed back and forth, tearing the golden palace to pieces. The fire that emanated from his feet spread unchallenged throughout the whole land, scorching forests, rivers, and mountains, and leaving behind rivers of molten rock.

A huge lance pierced Surtur’s neck, and his pained bellow was heard even in the cruiser. Loki allowed himself to have hope for one second, but then he saw Surtur raise his sword over his head and bring it down right into the crystalline heart of the realm, destroying the very thing that kept the land alive.

Every single asgardian felt it in their chest. Some even fell to their knees and silently cried. Loki saw the flickering green light of Hela’s seidr put up one last fight. Yet another huge lance was thrust through Surtur’s chest. With his mission accomplished, the giant didn’t fight back, and his body started to disintegrate into ash, raining down the blackened dead terrain.

A tight knot formed in Loki’s stomach when the green light died down.

The Realm Eternal was no more.

<< Chapter 27 – Chapter 29 >>

@nikkalia @xalgaliareptx @christy-winchester @silverhart93 @honeybournehippy @unseelie1963 @angryowlet @thelittlestlittlecutiepie @moonlightprime @velvetzybanshee @bengalaas @damalseer

#Loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki helason #hela (marvel)#Loki (Marvel)#DOTL #death of the lie #Hela fanfic #hela fanfiction #loki laufeyson

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talesofsonicasura · 4 years

Text

Stand Needed

Snatcher and Moonjumper contract a nasty undead illness. Luckily, Hat Kid knows someone who could help in exchange for a price. Too bad it's another weirdo on a whole other level.

Every creature can get sick. Dogs can contract illnesses, cats can get sick, rats can carry sickness and humans get sick from small colds or deadly diseases. Though no one ever thought the undead could contract an illness but it is possible especially for soul-devouring species.

There is an illness that can disturb the magic energy of powerful spirits, particularly those whose power grew greatly by consuming the life force of innocence more than the damned or vice versa. This causes their magic to malfunction, spells to fail or backfire, and if not treated in time that spirit in question will become stone.

The Subcon Forest, a dark and mysterious biological creature born from the ghostly energy that soaks deep in the soil. A fallen kingdom that's entire population was devastated in a single day by deadly frost and then revitalized into this maze of trees by powerful ghostly fire. Magic flows throughout the forest, haunted noose that come alive to snatch their victims, cherries that became crystalized then exploded when introduced to ghostly energies, swamps that drag treaders into the deep abyss and even bells that affect the spiritual plane.

Two types of inhabitants make this dead land their home under the laws of their ruler. Dwellers, spirits that are tied to the world by the masks they wear and capable of revealing the spiritual plane to others. And then there are the Subconites, dwellers whose spirits are given physical form through puppet bodies so they can interact with the world.

Both under the rule of the Snatcher, a powerful ghost that haunted the land. Trespassers he caught are forced to sign magical contracts with their souls as the price. All but one had made it out with their soul not getting devoured and bodies dumped like garbage. Another spirit did dwell within this ghostly forest and commanded the Dwellers that didn't want to be involved with the ghostly ruler.

This spirit known as Moonjumper also was a soul stealing entity that was at odds with the Snatcher. Clashes between both spirits were given and often depleted their magic to the point souls were required to replenish them. Snatcher fed on ones that belonged mostly to the innocent since they trespassed on his land more often and Moonjumper took those who were destined for hell as they fled to his part of the forest after performing dastardly deeds.

And this is where their problem all started. In a large tree lined with giant mushrooms and carved into with a jack o lantern was the dwelling for a particular specter. The Snatcher, a ghost around 20 ft long in size with a body similar to a serpent but covered completely in a mane of dark purple fur, a thick curly tip mane followed by glowing yellow eyes and mouth often found on a child's jack o' lantern with two fangs and spindly arms with two clawed fingers.

The spirit had a book in hand that's cover read 'Ghostly Magic and Illnesses' with eyes narrowed in annoyance and frowning in distaste. His powers had been acting finicky as late as last night. His warping magic left him in the wrong location than what he wanted, hands burst into flame without reason but the biggest sign was one of his contracts. The paper looked dead than it's pristine yellow cut.

Thus he delayed any new contracts and halted his duties to immediately find what was going on with his powers. A magical sickness wasn't what he expected. Especially as one as deadly to him like this. The Chaos Petrification, a sickness that manifests in soul eating entity's who had too much of innocent or damned energy in their appetite.

"...The only cure is the energy from a being with an immense fighting spirit. A soul whose willpower is so powerful that they can bring their inner being to life. By consuming some of this energy, the sick spirit's powers will return to proper balance. These souls are very rare and the illness will take four days to permanently petrify the spirit. What the peck?!" He shut the book with a huff.

"How the peck am I supposed to find a soul with an immense fighting spirit? What does that even mean by willpower that can come to life?!" He exclaimed with his animalistic rough growl mixed alongside the mischievous jovial balanced tone of his voice echoing through the forest. This wasn't something that needed to happen. You can't rule over a forest if you are a stone statue.

"Guess I'm not the only in this same predicament." A much softer male voice with an echo made the Snatcher's frown turn into an annoyed snarl. Turning around to bore holes into the head of the corpse possessing spirit at his home's doorway. The spirit was much smaller than him, around the size of a human man if he was missing his legs.

Their head was a pale blue moon shaped mask flipped on its back, red stripes going down the bottom side of the mouth, two eyes of slightly different sizes with red stripes or star spots in them, the fangs making the mask bear an aura of madness, his spindly body covered in torn remains of a prince attire consisting of a white ascot and red coat but manacles with broken chains around his wrists.

"Moonjumper, how did you get here? Have you forgotten you are banned from this part of my forest?" Snatcher growled whilst looking at this intruder with aggravation. "Trust me, I wouldn't have impeded on your land if it wasn't for good reason. I believe Chaos Petrification being both our problems." Those words were enough for the violet ghost to drop the book an instant.

"You have it too? This is really bad. Magic is the only thing keeping that witch's frost from eating the whole forest. And I really don't want her anywhere near that pecking border." The spirit shivered upon the thought of the ice witch that dwelled in a small section of the forest. All three of them were at odds but neither of the two males hated the other more than the female demon by their borders.

"As much as you hate me, neither of us wants our land to become frozen over with ghostly ice. We need each other to keep her at bay. From what I overheard is that the cure is the energy of a soul with a powerful inner will?" Moonjumper said, picking up the dropped book and opened it back to the page the other specter had it on.

The page in question held a person shaped hieroglyph and multiple wisps around them with a giant wisp at the center. Underneath the image was a scrap of text that seemed unreadable. With a flick of his fingers, red string manifested on that tiny part of the page. It covered the area before they vanished upon burrowing into the pages as restored text that read 'Stand User' in its place.

"Stand User? A bizarre name but much better than nothing. Though it's the first I heard of it." Moonjumper hummed looking at those two words that were the key to their salvation. "Maybe the kid might know. She may be a weirdo but she's a weirdo from space so the Hat Brat might have a clue." As if on signal by the violet ghost, a soft thump was heard by his tree alongside a childish girl saying Tada.

Then walked in a little girl who seemed to be around 8 years old in age, hair a chocolate brown ponytail and bright blue eyes wearing a purple top hat with a gold ribbon, a purple Victorian looking shirt, white pants, black shoes and a violet umbrella decorated in stickers. "Hey Snatcher! And Moonjumper you here too?! Bowie was wondering where you were!" The child who was known as Hat Kid said with honest surprise.

Both ghosts decided to inform the young child about their current predicament. The girl may be young but her actions in the past showed she was a force to be reckoned and a good source of help. After all, no one had ever bested Snatcher in a fight or escaped the manor of the Subcon's Ice Queen alive.

"A Stand User? Don't know what that is but I think my new friend might know!" That caught the attention of the two specters. Hat Kid has a habit of making friends with very interesting individuals. These very people were often useful to Snatcher in particular considering his special contacts known as Death Wishes.

"Really? Who's this new friend of yours and where are they now?" Snatcher questioned nearly getting into the kid's face. "Her name is Jodie Joestar and I met her in Mafia Town! She looked extremely lost and said something about a Stand thingy that took her from her friends! In fact she's waiting on my ship right now since I said you guys might know a way for her to get back!" Hat Kid exclaimed, both ghosts were quite pleased to hear this.

It shouldn't be so hard to ask the woman about it. Though even if the Snatcher wouldn't think or much less admit it, Moonjumper was quite curious on what kind of person was this Jodie Joestar. A question he was glad to ask Hat Kid about on their way to her ship.

"What kind of person Jodie is like? She's quite cool and very nice! Her hair is blue and the surprising thing is that it's completely natural! Jodie also knows some cool tricks I could do with my hat and apparently loves to sing. I plan on asking her if she wants to hang out later and show me these special comics she has called Manga! Oh and she has a lot of siblings, like 7 brothers and one sister! One of her brothers is her twin too!"

Snatcher could only do a small dry cackle in his head. This Jodie sounded like another weirdo. They had to be crazy to stand the little purple hat wearing alien girl known as Hat Kid. Plus having 8 siblings was guaranteed to drive someone up the wall with madness. Then again, might be another soul that could be a new contractor. His forest did need some maintenance that didn't involve the kid.

Hat Kid's spaceship could be described as very colorful and imaginative to anyone who goes inside. Various rooms with bright color carpets, different setups being connected by various sized tunnels which most were crawlspaces to any adult guests, displays with the subjects of each one floating in midair or the massive pile of pillows that could be found in the bedroom.

Each room contains a telescope, a type of transporter that took others to certain parts of the planet that it was locked on to. Funnily, the telescope in her room leads straight to Subcon Forest which was also the same place the trio arrived in. Though they weren't exactly counting on the sound of music above them.

This music sounded very strange. It was like a flute with a higher pitch mixed with the tone of a harmonica and light notes found in an ocarina. The song itself was very soothing despite it's somber tune and all three of them had different thoughts upon it. To Hat Kid, it sounded like something that could be heard from a fairytale. There was this sort of magic to it that you would only find from unexplained wonders.

For Moonjumper, it was very calming to him. It reminded him of whenever he was stargazing, his inner turmoils were quelled and he could feel himself at peace despite his cursed afterlife. And for Snatcher, the tune reminded him of home. Before Subcon had become the haunted forest it was now. Where children were playing, the sun was shining and everything was filled with peaceful life. The time he was truly happy and had a better honest outlook of the world.

They all looked to see the source of that melody on top of the pillow mountain. It was a young woman with slightly long curly blue hair and the music was coming from a leaf she had pressed to her mouth. She appeared to be around 5'10 in height with light peach skin and her body completely covered in a peculiar style of clothing.

It consisted of a black long sleeve kimono to the point that it completely swallowed her arms and legs, a torn sleeveless white long coat with seagreen bottom starting from halfway, a long blue sash like harness around her waist and brown hiking boots. This had to be the girl that Hat Kid was talking about, Jodie Joestar.

From her closed eyes and no reaction to their arrival, it was clear she didn't notice them yet. 'She's quite talented if she can create such music with a simple leaf. And cute…' Moonjumper immediately shoved that last thought in the back of his mind. No ogling a human girl especially one you don't know nothing about.

Jodie opened her eyes and immediately spotted the little girl alongside the two ghostly guests. She then placed the small plant piece in her pocket before sliding down the pillow mountain. "Welcome back Hattie-san! I see you brought guests too! Konnichiwa!" Her voice was light, peppy and had a soft energy to it as she bowed to the two ghosts much to their surprise.

"Konnichi-what? Sorry girlie but I don't speak alien or bow to random strangers." Snatcher snarked but the young woman didn't let it bother her much. "Sorry about that. Konnichiwa means Hello in Japanese and bowing to someone you first meet is a sign of respect from Japan as well." Jodie explained, her voice riddled with modest honesty.

"Quite an interesting custom. Sorry for not introducing ourselves. I am Moonjumper and the large fellow beside me is Snatcher. You must be Jodie Joestar?" The chained ghost's question was met with a small nod. "Correct. Hattie-san said you could be of assistance with my particular situation." That's right, Hat Kid did say she was stranded but how bad could it be?

"It depends on how bad it is and what you can give in return, kiddo. Nothing in this world is free." Snatcher had slithered around her side before his face got up close and personal to the woman with a finger to her face. She merely moved his finger aside much to the specter's surprise. "It's rude to put your fingers in someone's face Snatcher. You wouldn't want someone to do the same to you." And then she booped him on the area where his nose would be if the ghost had one.

Hat Kid giggled and Moonjumper had put his own down seeing the flustered face of Snatcher as Jodie walked over to Hat's bed and sat at the end. He clearly was having trouble processing the fact that some random stranger booped him, Snatcher the Ruler of Subcon, on his face in pure nonchalance. The sound of the kid's laughter and Moonjumper's amused look had him push it to the side as he glared at the two then Jodie.

The bluenette wasn't even a bit fazed as she spoke once more. "To put it simply, this isn't my world. I was sent here by the power of an enemy Stand, I believe he called it 'When They Come For Me'. Stands are the manifestation of a person's fighting spirit and each one is different from the other. They come in many shapes, types and forms. Some are named after the tarot deck and lately music or songs."

It had to be another world. He had to jinx himself. Moonjumper had to resist facepalming for that one. "Stand Users have a habit of attracting other Stand Users and some aren't really nice learning that." The violet ghost decided to butt in. "I guess that means you're a Stand User too since 'Stand Users have a habit of attracting other Stand Users.'" Jodie ignored his snarky interruption with a placid face.

Snatcher really was trying to aggravate her but he wasn't going to be easily satisfied. "Very astute. I am a Stand User but lucky for you is that I'm one of the friendlier and more rational ones. If you would've asked someone else that then they would attack or in a worse case scenario kill you in very gruesome ways. Trust me when I say you don't want to make an enemy of someone who could erase you from existence or turn you into a living bomb with a single touch."

And the peaceful ambient mood immediately shriveled up and died from Jodie's words. 'Erase someone from existence? That peck neck kid could've got us destroyed in an instant if she brought some fool capable of that on board! I may be powerful but I'm not stupid. Though I had to applaud her for killing the mood so quickly.' Snatcher had to reluctantly admit that last bit in his head.

Jodie then continued. "Don't worry though if there are any other nasty Stand Users then I can easily handle them. It's sort of my job to keep the bad nuts under control with my Stand: What's Up Danger!" Almost on cue something large and white had appeared in front of the bluenette causing the two ghosts and child to jump back in surprise.

Standing proudly before then was a white lion/dog hybrid beast with a ragged green and red bowtie on their chest around a good 12 ft in size, a seagreen underbelly alongside horn like ears and sharp bladed claws of that same color, a mouth of oversized monstrous fangs and tusks that looked like something from a horror movie, two eye sockets filled with various colored eyes than just one, dark blue bladed spikes on each side of the back, and a blue tail ending with a plush viper head that had blue bunny ears alongside a stitched mouth.

"That is a big freakish cat. And seriously 'What's Up Danger?' At least some fool knows what they're getting into once that comes out." The beast or What's Up Danger rolled their eyes at the violet specter's snark. "Kitty!" Then Hat Kid just pounced on the large feline with a big hug much to everyone's surprise. Jodie immediately became as flustered as her Stand who clearly was not used to random hugs.

"Hattie-san, you are one of a kind because no one has ever called Danger a kitty and hugged her." The woman couldn't help but chuckle as the feline plucked the child off her leg and settled the little girl on her back with her tail. Moonjumper merely looked at the peculiar creature with a curious gaze. It's not everyday a ghostly demonic feline jumps out of someone.

He then noticed Jodie giving the two ghosts a look that clearly read: 'You can get closer if you want.' Moonjumper came closer with no issue while Snatcher held back a groan and settled with a skeptical look before begrudgingly coming over. Danger merely sat down and watched them making it clear she had no problem with what they did. Especially since Hat Kid was petting her much to the feline's pleasure.

"So you said you were looking for my assistance but for what?" Filling her in on the situation was apparently easier than they expected. "Turning to stone sounds really awful. If you need some of my Stand Energy then take what you need. Danger and I have no problem with it. Right, girl?" A soft mew confirmed the feline's answer to her partner.

"Thank you very much Jodie. You are a 'lifesaver' I believe what people say these days. Please hold out your hand or paw." The duo followed Moonjumper's instruction and pulled out their respective left limb. Snatcher had cautiously taken Jodie's while Moonjumper took Danger's. he vast difference in size was made clear as the violet ghost and feline practically overshadowed their respective partner's hand.

Both females felt a large prick at the center of their being that vanished as fast it came, a flu shot being the closest to compare the feeling. The reactions of the two ghosts were instant once they let go. A large burst of blue flame ignited from Snatcher's hand before manifesting as a pristine gold contract paper with a large bright smile and strings whipped from Moonjumper's in an elegant controlled fashion.

"I'm back in business! Maybe even better than ever since my contracts never had such a perfect pristine look to them." The specter couldn't help but admire the elegant masterful craftsmanship of the calligraphy and detailed fabric/paper of the very item in his claws. "My magic feels much better as well. It has been some time to be able to manipulate my strings like this after escaping the Horizon. You have an incredible spirit Miss Joestar."

Jodie and Danger couldn't help the big smile on their beaming faces at the Moonjumper's praise and the sorta gratitude from Snatcher. "Now to get you home! You know the telescopes on my ship, the ones that I use to travel on different parts of the planet." Hat Kid's inquiry earned a round of nods from the room's occupants.

"I was thinking that we can power up one of the telescopes so it can send you back! And the best ones for the job was Snatcher and Moonjumper." That didn't sound like a bad idea. All of them had seen how the strange objects worked, most of them even used it, they were very accurate on where they warped to and from.

"Doesn't sound too hard considering we got a sample of the kiddo's soul. It'll act like a guide to her planet and last location before ending up in that stupidity infested town. The telescope used for my forest will boost our chances since it's linked to the realm of yours truly." A larger smug smile grew on the specter's face that earned him an eye roll from the other ghost.

With a simple spell, the telescope to Subcon had undergone a significant change. It was now larger with the brown cover replaced with a deep violet marked by red spirals, a second notch by the lenses marked with a J, and a mechanism that changed the lense for a bright sea green one. "There we go. Now the telescope can warp to your world and not just Subcon Forest with a turn of the notch." Moonjumper didn't expect the sudden hug from the woman and Snatcher didn't expect her to hug him next. Hat Kid's hug wasn't a surprise.

What's Up Danger vanished as Jodie recalled the being back into her own soul. "Thank you guys! I hope we can meet again in the future someday but for now this is goodbye. My family is probably worried or on a crusade for that Stand User so best to put out the flaming torches and put down any Stand Rushes quickly as possible. Sayonara and Arigato." With a smile on her face, the girl vanished in the light of the telescope.

Snatcher and Moonjumper stared at the object a bit longer before instinctively looking at Hat Kid. She had a very familiar disaster impending smile on her face. "You're going to follow her, aren't you?" The chained specter was answered by the smug look in the child's eyes. "At least give her three days. I want to see what kind of face she makes when we pop up. Plus there's a book of spells that might come in handy."

An impossible thing to knock about Snatcher and Hat Kid. When you grab their interest expect to follow you with every chance they get. And prepare for the impending mayhem to follow. Ghosts and children always tend to cause mischievous mishaps after all.

This is another Hat in Time crossover but instead I used Jojo's Bizarre Adventure. Hat Kid here is a bit more chatty because I want to practice all sorts of interactions especially with two diverse sets of characters from two different franchises.

While Unappreciated Hunter was exploration in its style, this is more of how these very unique series interact with another when you take into consideration how vastly different they are. Kind of like a melting pot as characters handle brand new situations and the oddities provided.

This is all my first attempt at writing Moonjumper so I hope I did good. Until next time folks!

This is Jodie Joestar and her Stand What's Up Danger! Alongside the song that her name comes from.

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold - Ch.1

Know the Enemy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 1700

Summary: Avenger!reader AU. Part 2 of Melting Hearts series. Part 1 HERE.

Your parents have been taken, parents who didn’t even know you were still alive and playing hero. And now it’s time to negotiate.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of kidnapping, death threat,... crying? Light angst.

Prologue | Story Masterlist

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Tony barely managed to plug in the phone to his magical tech when the annoying ringtone cut the air again.

You had been sitting on one of the stools in his lab, staring ahead blindly. Instead of a science lair, you saw your parents, family dinners and tiny cute birthday parties in a close circle of the few people who still cared. You saw your dad’s proud smile when you finished high school despite all the odds of your poor health and your mother’s tears on the same occasion, the small diner they took you to after, because you loved it there and you had preferred it to some fancy restaurant.

A squeeze on your hand brought you back to the present and you blinked, looking up to Steve’s face. A shadow of concern was there, but he gave you an encouraging smile. You gulped, eyeing the phone as if it could explode.

“Gonna put in on speaker, sounds good?” Tony hummed, already accepting the call and truly setting it so all of you could hear the caller. Steve’s hand never left yours.

“He-hello?” you spoke up quietly, mentally cursing. Too low. Yet, the person on the other end of the line must have heard you, because he responded.

“Hello, my darling!”

Steve’s grip tightened as the man greeted you cheerfully and Tony quickly started typing sounlessly in order to trace the call. You closed your eyes, the picture of your parents, each tied to a chair and a tape covering their mouths, swimming behind your eyelids.

“What do you want?”

There was a short silence following your question.

“Straight to business, I like that,” the man commented, his voice, immediately burned into your brain like a brand, causing you to sober up. “I wanted you attention.”

“You have it.” You have no idea how much attention you have, you dickbag. Touch them and I swear I’ll rip you open with my teeth.

“Obviously, Snowflake.” You winced, just like Steve, who was trying to keep composed by your side. “I’d like a meeting.”

“Why? Why would you kidnap those people? What-“

“Told ya. Wanted your attention. Gotta admit, your backstory is less interesting then I thought, but the Michaels always had high expectations.”

There was a bitter note behind his words and your lips parted. What the fuck? Was he trying to lead you astray? Or did he really just introduce himself? Both men present with you seemed as surprised as you were – Tony’s eyebrows were up, while Steve’s face darkened. He didn’t like the man revealing himself so easily-- and honestly neither did you.

“Why do you want to meet?”

To kill me?

“Big fan of yours. But with how much fan mail you get, I figured I needed something… bigger.”

You gritted your teeth at the painful pang of anxiety attacking your stomach. Yeah, sure, kidnapping your parents was a bit bigger. How the hell had he figured it out? There was no chance this Michaels didn’t know who you were, no chance of your parents being abducted being a coincidence. Yet, you needed to be sure.

“And you thought kidnapping two innocent people would do?” you strained through your teeth.

Tony gave you a thumbs up and lighted up the big screen – he traced the call. Naturally, it was from Pennsylvania; right at the source.

“Worked, didn’t it? I’m sure your friends already traced the call to the right building, so now nothing stands in the way of our meeting-“ You shot Steve a panicked look – this guy knew very well what he was doing. He must have known how precise the program was, when using the military network combined with Tony’s. How could he know that? “-so why don’t you come tomorrow at 8 a.m.? I would set the meeting earlier, but I tend to be cranky before I have my coffee.”

Steve’s expression was one of furious, veins on his arms ascending as his free hand curled up into a fist. His other forearm was pale; you realized you had been subconsciously tightening your grip on his hand and what was worse, your powers started working on their own, cooling the limb down.

You immediately let go, shocked and horrified. After that, you didn’t think your horror could escalate, but obviously, you were wrong.

“Also, leave your group of merry men and deadly woman home. If you don’t come alone, I’ll know. And if I know, they die.”

Steve shook his head rapidly, his eyes hard and disapproving. Tony was trying to get your attention, waving his hands. ‘Prove of life,’ he mouthed.

You breathed in shakily, closing your eyes. You were out of options. You whole body, every single instinct was screaming at you to tell him to go screw himself, because it was an obvious trap, but you didn’t have a choice.

He had your parents. There was only thing you could do.

“8 a.m. it is. I’ll come. Alone,” you added firmly, ignoring Steve’s hand grabbing your arm and pulling lightly to make you face him.

You opened your eyes slowly, meeting his – they were speaking to you soundlessly, scolding your for even thinking about negotiating with the man and meeting him on your own. You allowed yourself to drown in the sea of outraged blue, surprisingly calming you despite the emotions promising a fight in it. You found yourself strangely relaxed, an insane reaction to this mess.

“But I’m gonna need a non-stop prove of these people being alive.”

Steve’s gaze softened with compassion and you pretended it didn’t do things to you. You fooled no one.

“Obviously. Accept the video feed,” Michaels ordered and Tony clicked on the icon, another big screen lighting up with a face of a man.

JARVIS automatically started the recognition program, while you instinctively started asserting the man. White male in his forties, a bit round face, dark stubble, piercing grey eyes. Two-inch scar above his left eyebrow. It was impossible to guess his built with his body out of the frame.

“And you know, you can cut the game of calling them ‘people’. I know who they are to you,” he exclaimed, one corner of his lips rising.

You swallowed loudly as he disappeared from the frame then, angling the phone and showing you old industrial metallic door. He nudged it with his foot and it opened easily.

You ceased to breathe, your heart stopping as well. Your palm fled to cover your mouth as tears gathered in your eyes.

Here they were; the scene in front of you resembled the photo you had received, so he must have taken it from the very same angle. There wasn’t any change really, but for that you were actually grateful. You parents were still alive and breathing, their scared eyes flashing to the camera for a second before they lowered their gazes to the floor again. Your mother’s shoulders shook, her sobs muffled by the tape over her mouth.

The table you set your fist onto covered in thick layer of ice. You quickly raised it again.

“See, Frostbite? Living and kicking. Let’s keep it this way. You’ll hear from me every half an hour so you know your precious p-“ you held your breath in anticipation. Had he told them? Was he about to tell them now? “-people are still breathing. Can’t wait to meet you, Snowflake.”

And then the line went dead.

You sobbed, folding like a house of cards under a slight breeze. Steve shifted in his position, wrapping his strong arms around you instead of the simple challenging grip on your arm, and you instantly reached for the comfort he was offering. He placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Hey, we’ll handle this-“

“Alone,” you whimpered, your voice muffled by his t-shirt. You could feel him shaking his head.

“Not an option. We’ll figure something out. Tony? Who’s this guy?”

“Frederick Michaels. Former employee of… well, me. Stark Industries. MIT graduate, summa cum laude. Just your average IT guy here. Fired a year ago,” Tony informed him swiftly. He didn’t need an encouragement to elaborate. “For harassment. That poor woman had to take a half-year of therapy. Jeez, I wouldn’t be surprised if Pepper had been the one to pack his bag herself. She’s allergic to that stuff.”

You allowed yourself breathe in at the mention of Pepper Potts. That woman was a goddess among men, ultimately badass in a bit different way than Natasha. And you needed to be all kind of badass now. You retreated from Steve’s hug, rising from your stool. Yet, you didn’t quite leave Steve’s personal space, comforted by the heat he was radiating. You eyed Tony.

“Why would he target me?” Why would he target my parents?

“Given his history, I would say it’s your outfit, it’s very tight on the right places-“ Tony hummed, cut off by Steve’s murderous glare, “-but this seems much more complicated than that. Why don’t you chill while everyone else gets here? JARVIS?”

“Already sent an alert to Agents Romanov and Barton as well as Doctor Banner, sir.”

“That’s what I’m talking about, the team working like swish watch. He picked the wrong team to mess with. We’ll deal with that bastard in no time, no worries, Frosty.”

Despite yourself and the air so thick in the room you could cut it with a knife, you smiled.

“Also, get that ice from my table, Elsa. Your manners suck.”

You did as he asked, trying to ignore the anxiety at your powers going haywire – you had other things to worry about now. But you could feel Steve’s worried gaze at the back of your head as your hand hovered over the mess you had made.

He was shaken by that as much as you were, but you never got to talk about it, because Clint entered the laboratory with a yawn.

“What’s up, ki-“ The words died in his throat when he saw the frozen frame of two civilians tied to chairs. “Where’s the fight?” he asked instead and Tony sighed, zooming the map out, replacing the ugly picture.

When the red dot appeared in a town called Snow Shoe, you almost send an icicle through the hologram, really not appreciating the irony.

────── ·❆· ──────

Part 2

────── ·❆· ──────

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart, @murdermornings, @elisaa-shelby @ask-hellbent-tweek @cxptain, @kallafrench

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #avenger reader #avengers #captain america #steve rogers #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #heart too cold but friends of gold #anika ann

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hitchell-mope · 5 years

Text

(First film. Prologue. Instead of an iPad activated by Mal, Jay is in a white void room dressed for the coronation his hands are glowing brightest gold with magic)

Jay: once upon a time, well, two decades ago. The town loony’s daughter. Married the accursed beast. Of course he wasn’t a beast when they tied the knot (his magic creates images of the story as he tells it) true loves kiss solves everything. They had no honeymoon. Instead. Adam brought the kingdoms together and became the king of the United States of Auradon. And guess what he did? (Chuckles darkly) the overly shaved bastard pooled together his resources and magic. And engaged in necromancy, bringing back all the villains (passing by a line of said villains) you know the usual suspects, crown head, dragon lady, the psychotic furrier and my father. The mad genie. (He pauses in front of Jafar’s frozen form). Along with many many others who died in their stories. The “heroes”, for want of a better word, brought them all back. Along with the sidekicks and basically anyone who didntbfir in their perfect widdle bubble. To add insult to injury. The barrier they put up around the prison prevented them leaving even though the god of the dead were among the throngs punished. Can’t get out with out the fairy godmothers wand you see. There’s also no WiFi. So the days and nights are positively tedious. So it left them with nothing to do but procreate. How did they think villains would tear their own offspring when they’ve tried to murder innocents on multiple occasions. Needless to say their absolutely shit as parents. So we try to stay away as much as we can. Form gangs. Safety in numbers. It helps when you can turn some creepy old man who’s looking at your friend inside out with a snap of your fingers. You’ll meet more of us soon. But for now (he walks up to Ben’s portrait) you get to see the oh so handsome prince fight on our behalf against his nimrod of a father to give us basic human rights. See you soon

(His body glows completely gold and he disappears in a flash of light. Ben’s portrait is zoomed in on and changes to him rushing down a hallway with Doug)

Ben: oh darn we’re late

Doug: it’s alright. It’s not like they can start the meeting without you. You did call it after all

Ben: good point. Ohhhh if this doesn’t work I swear I’m holing myself up in my room with teenage dirtbag on repeat for a week

Doug: it’ll work

Ben: oh I hope so

(They burst into the meeting room. Several adults turn to look at him. Ben looks like he might pass out)

Ben: heh hhhhhhhhi heh heh

(He falls backwards but Doug catches him)

Doug: sorry about that but it was a long walk

Belle: it’s ok Doug. There was more then enough tea.

Adam: son.

Ben: mom. Pop. Uhhhh

Leah: Benjamin will this take long. I’m sure Audrey is waiting for you

Ben: pardon.

Leah: I’ve set reservations at a What was it Aurora?

Aurora: Burger King mommie. I suggested it.

Leah: why?

Belle (every fibre of her being fighting to not roll her eyes): anyway. Ben. What is it you wanted to talk to us about.

Ben: uh. Heh heh. As you all know I’m going to be king in a few months.

Adam: and we couldn’t be prouder

Leah: Audrey is so looking forward to your coronation then there’s the cotillion and we all know what comes after.

Snow: your majesty’s. Please. Let Ben speak. The poor child looks as though he might faint. Hello Doug dear

Doug: hi aunt Snow.

Snow: carry on Ben dear

Ben (slightly less nervous now): thank you your highness. As I was saying. I’m going to be king in a few months and I needed to decide on my first proclamation. And I’ve finally thought of one-hang on. Where are mr and Mrs Dearly

Beast: who?

Snow: the ones with all the delightful doggies

Leah: mutts. They are mutts. Who need to be shot

Aurora: I’m sorry for her. She’s recently been taken ill and hasn’t been quite the same since

Belle: she broke a leg coming back from a hunting trip. That is no excuse for her god awful behaviour

Leah: whatever do you mean?

Belle: I’d tell you. But then we’d be here forever

(Ben stays standing there unsure of what to do)

Doug: I think it may be time for Ben to say his piece yes?

Belle, Aurora and Snow: yes.

Doug: thank you. Carry on Ben

Adam: why are you here.

Doug: pardon?

Leah: yes Adam. I would like to know as well. Why are you here. Whoever you are

Doug: ah ha ooh boy. I’m Doug. Ben’s future major-domo. I’ve been in his class since pre-K.

(Leah just stares blankly at him)

Doug (long suffering sigh): my father is dopey the dwarf. Diamond miner. Made Audrey’s tennis bracelet

Leah: oh yes. So why are you in a meeting meant for royalty

Ben: IWANTTOBRINGCHILDRENOVERFROMTHEISLANDOFTHELOST

(All adults are silent. The the Dearly’s burst in)

Anita: we are so sorry we’re late. BB-8 got hold of my patent leather pumps and why does it feel like death warmed up

Belle: Ben. I’m. I’m

Leah: appalled. And so is everyone else. You have have something to do with this don’t you dwarf?

Doug (under his breath): that didn’t take long

Adam: this. Really. This is your first proclamation? Of all things

Leah (damn near hysterical): why not just tax the rich!

Aladdin: oh shut up you old bitch. Go on Ben

Ben: thank you. Al

Leah: you will address the sultan by his proper title you little bollocks

Belle: ok that’s it. Get out you psychotic old biddy

(Leah gasps dramatically)

Belle: Lumiere would you please?

Lumiere: of course ma’am

(He physically drags Leah from the room)

Jasmine: I’m assuming that us being here has something to do with what children you are picking

Ben: I

Doug (not willing to let Ben take the blame if it all goes wrong): we

Ben (immensely grateful): we, thank you Doug, looked through records and dossiers and found the first four, of many, we’d like to bring over.

Belle (encouragingly): go on dear

Ben (more firmly): the children of, Jafar, Cruella De Vil, Queen Grimhilde. And Maleficent

(From the hallway Leah lets out a hysterical screech. Belle throws a stress ball at the door to shut her up. The rest remain silent)

Roger: they, they uh. Oh my god.

Adam (trying to regain control of the situation): Dearly calm down. It’s not as bad as you believe

Anita (laughing hollowly): not bad. N. Not bad. How can it not be bad. Cruella De Vil has a child!

Aurora: oh those poor dears

Snow: stepmother has a baby? I’m a sister. No. Wait. They wouldn’t be fathers.

Phillip: how old are they.

Adam: it matters not how old they are

Aladdin, Roger and Phillip: THE HELL IT DOESN’T

Phillip: TWENTY YEARS. I SLAYED THE DRAGON. YOU BROUGHT HER BACK. AND NOW WE FIND OUT SHE HAS A CHILD. Oh my god!

Snow: I feel sick.

Adam: now look what you’ve done Ben.

Aurora: Ben didn’t engage in necromancy and bring people who have hurt us back from the dead, dump them on an island that we can all see from our windows. And leave them to raise children. I for one commend him on wanting to try and do what’s right by those that we have left to squander.

Ben: thank you Aurora

Belle: when do you plan on bringing them over dear?

Ben: about that.

(Aladdin laughs. Well. Cackles is more like it)

Jasmine: today?

Ben: yes. At least. I hope so.

Anita: pardon dear?

Doug: we don’t know what their parents are like. If they are like the sultan and her husband or if they are like

Phillip (looking directly at Adam): I completely understand. It’s just

Aurora: we’re going on vacation to Malta. Right after this meeting in fact. So

Ben: no matter how much you want to meet Maleficent’s child. You can’t.

Aurora: if it helps. Audrey will be here I’m sure she’ll support you in your des... (Belle gives her a withering stare) yeah I know.

Ben: I told her last month, when I came up with the idea in fact

Phillip: and

Ben: she laughed me off. Then made me take her shopping.

Doug: if it helps Lonnie Jane fairy godmother and I are 100% behind him king Phillip

Phillip: it does actually Doug. Thank you

Ben: dad. Just hear me out. Every time I look out there over the water I feel like we abandoned them.

Adam: then close the drapes

Leah (from the hallway): hear hear

Belle: SHUDDIT

Aladdin: I for one love the idea. I look forward to meeting them.

Ben: thank you sir

Belle: when do we expect them

Ben: this afternoon. Hopefully.

Belle: and I’m assuming you’ve had this set up for a while

Doug: fairy godmother had helps us get everything ready.

Belle: that’s good. I suggest we adjourn this meeting so Ben can put the finishing touches on the task.

(Everyone leaves the room. Ben and Doug stay behind with Belle)

Ben: thanks mom

Doug: thank you your majesty

Belle: you’re welcome boys. Remember. My door is always open

(All three leave and go their separate ways. The boys head to Ben’s room where two girls are waiting)

Lonnie: well?

Ben: mom’s on board

Lonnie: and your dad?

Doug: who gives a shit what he thinks?

Lonnie: true.

Ben: thank you. All three of you. I couldn’t have done it without you all

Jane: you didn’t need me.

Ben: I did. Your my friends. I can hardly do anything without you guys

Lonnie: well there are a couple of things you need to do with our us. Exams for instance

Doug: thank god you said exams

Jane: uh oh

Ben: what?

Jane: 3...2...1...

(Another girl throws open the door and walks in like she owns the place)

Doug (aside to Jane): you have to teach me that

Jane: it’s magic. You can’t learn it. I don’t even want it.

Audrey: of course you don’t

#disney descendants #zendaya!mal #jay son of jafar #ben florian #anti leah descendants #belle descendants #anti beast descendants #snow white descendants

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iloveyouthree-thousand · 5 years

Text

and we might not be able to save everyone (but I’ll be damned if I can’t save you)

I wrote this a while back, but I never posted it on here, so I cleaned it up a little and decided to put it up because, god help me, I can’t think of anything new to write.

Warning: this fic contains mentions of suicide. Please stay safe.

/ / /

"Kid, I'm going to need you to listen to me—just this once—and I promise I'll let you go to bed at whatever time you want for the rest of your long, long life," Tony starts, his attempt at being calm becoming less and less convincing with every passing second, "but I need you to step away from that ledge."

"I just wanted to help, Mr. Stark. I just—I didn't want anybody to get hurt," Peter stammers, a dark blue jacket and jeans fluttering in the wind while his face—his horribly pallid face—was left exposed to the night air.

The kid's innocence had worn off steadily throughout the past few years. Oh, he still had a heart of gold and manners fit for the Queen of England herself, and you would be hard-pressed to find someone who still didn't see eighteen-year-old Peter Parker as the living embodiment of an actual fucking ray of sunshine. This kid, despite losing nearly everything he ever loved, never ceased to be the count-your-blessings-glass-half-full kind of person. It was remarkable.

Behind that happy-go-lucky exterior, though, Tony knew he hid a world of hurt.

He knew that several times a month Peter retreated to a soundproof room in the basement of the Compound and buried himself in a pillow, only to return hours later with blood in his ears and looking like he had seen a ghost. He knew that sometimes Peter went home and held his eyes shut until the sounds of Ben's cries were drowned out by sleep. He knew that, tucked into the back of his closet, was the small black suit and the shoes he had worn to his parents' funeral, still caked with the same dirt that he watched the groundskeepers cover his parents' graves with, long after everyone else had left.

Tony also knew a thing or two about emotional baggage—about carrying around the loss of people you love well after everyone else has moved on. He also knew that Peter would grin and bear it for as long as he lived, hiding behind the Spider-Man mask by night and behind his own bubbly façade during the day.

Peter took the worst things that life could throw at him and turned them into strength and resilience and unrestrained compassion, and it was precisely those character traits that had Spider-Man parading around a children's hospital that morning.

The visit was part of a charity event to raise money for and put smiles on the faces of terminally ill children, and Peter had been looking forward to the visit for weeks with an excitement that was palpable. Tony had gone as himself, leaving the Iron Man suit at home while still giving the kid some much-needed moral support. He stood in the background, not bothering to hide his pride as Peter displayed his webbing abilities for the children, a grin no doubt spread across his face under the mask.

And then everything had gone wrong.

A maniac had heard about the hospital visit. An explosion destroyed an entire wing of a hospital. Sixteen people were dead in a little less than a second, before Peter or Tony could even blink. Eleven of them were children. There was nothing Spider-Man could do but watch in horror.

The Daily Bugle headline for the evening had read 'Spider-Man: Don't our children deserve better?'

Tony would’ve purchased every single copy, would’ve strung the ratty journalist up by his toes if it meant that Peter would never see the stupid headline, but the damage was done.

And now his kid was standing on a roof, ready to jump into the wind like he’d done so many times before, but there were no webs to catch him this time.

"Peter, it's not your fault. Those people—those kids, there was nothing we could do."

Tony was in his suit, poised to catch the boy if the unthinkable were to happen. They were sixteen stories up, one for each of the victims that Peter hadn't been able to save. Rhodey was also suited up, on call to swoop in just in case. No one was going to be scraping Peter Parker off of the sidewalk tonight.

Peter's hands were trembling at his sides, no, his whole body was trembling. His eyes were wide-open, locked onto the streets below, and he was crying so hard he was hiccuping, snot dripping down his nose and tears pooling in his eyes. He looked like a shadow out there—a broken, fleeting wisp of the boy Tony knew and loved.

Peter lacked the physical energy to fight anymore. At some point, even Atlas buckles under the weight of the world. Everyone has their breaking point. And while Tony was certain Peter's name wouldn't be written in the obituaries tomorrow—he wouldn't let that happen—he was terrified that something inside of Peter had finally given in. It didn't matter if Tony or Rhodes snatched him out of the air or not, if Peter jumped, a part of him had already died.

"Pete, look at me, please." His impossibly wide eyes were still vacant and frozen, but they managed to train on Tony.

"I've been here, at the end of my rope, when it was too much. I know what it feels like, that helplessness, that absence of control. Because you're a superhero, right," he chokes, "a card-carrying member of the 'earth's mightiest heroes' club, but they don't tell you when you sign up how much it absolutely sucks.”

And it does, it sucks and it’s not fair, because for every person you save there are dozen more that you lose, innocent people that die without a hero to fight for them.

“They don't sit you down and explain that sometimes the bad guys win, and that most of the time, even when they don't, the good guys lose. We lose and we lose and we lose over and over again."

"Death doesn't discriminate, Pete," the tears are streaming down his face now, "it takes and takes and takes and you know what the worst part is? We get knocked on our ass again and again, but we have to keep fighting. We have to keep living and carrying the weight of the ones that aren’t so lucky and it’s hard. I know that sometimes it feels easier to just break the cycle, to just jump and let it all be over with. Trust me, I know. But heroes--they have to get back up, even when it feels like there’s nothing left to fight for, even if it sucks and even if it’s not fair, because that’s what heroes do.”

Peter's eyes shift nervously to the bustling street hundreds of feet below him.

"Yea, yea," he whispers, "with great power comes great responsibility."

"Yea, kid,” Tony says softly, his words carrying in the wind, “and I wish more than anything that you didn't have to bear that responsibility, that you could just be a normal kid worrying about normal things. But I know that some higher being out there gave you these powers knowing that you could handle them—that you could use them to change the world. And as much as I want to kick that someone's ass for robbing you of your childhood and making this your life," he gestures to the trembling child, "we need you Peter."

"You've never had a selfish bone in that entire body of yours, it's infuriating, really," he chuckles drily, "and I know you didn't suddenly grow one tonight. Peter, think about May. You’re her whole world. And Ned, and MJ; Peter those kids need you. Queens needs its favorite superhero. And I--I have always been selfish, so I’m not afraid to admit that I need you too," his voice is so thin now, but he desperately tries to keep his cool composure as Peter turns back to stare out into the night sky, tears precariously close to falling, his chest heaving in a way that makes Tony's heart skip a beat.

"We can't always save everyone, but I'll be damned if I can’t save you. We can work through this together, in time, but first I need you come here. Please, Pete,” he says, and his voice is breaking, he’s breaking, “please, just come here."

It takes him a minute of staring at Tony and then the ground below, but he takes a step back and then two and three and in less than a moment he's in Tony's arms, tears leaving hot trails down his face. Tony stumbles out of the suit, taking the kid to ground with him, clutching him like he might disappear at any second.

"This world doesn't deserve you kid. I don't deserve you."

"Mr. Stark, I-I'm s-s-sorry," he sobs, gripping the man's shoulders and bleeding tears into the fabric of his expensive suit.

"Nope, no apologies, not tonight kid."

Tony thinks back to one gruesome night, back when he was still a kid—just around Peter's age. Howard Stark had come in and seen the pills strewn everywhere, his son lying in a daze, eyes glossed over, clinging to life. He remembered the screaming, Tony, Tony! How could you do this—how—how could you do this to us? And then it was a mess of hospital lights and a tube down his throat and he had pulled through, but Howard barely even looked at him for the next couple of weeks, and it just made him curse those damn pills for not taking him soon enough. He knew his father cared, that he was probably more scared that night than he'd ever admit, but that feeling of utter loneliness in the darkest moment of his life is something that Tony never wants Peter to feel.

So he just holds Peter, reaching a hand up to brush his hair back before resting his chin on the top of his head. His fingers toy with the navy material of Peter's sweater, needing to just feel him, as he repeats, whispering into his hair, "not tonight kid."

#irondad #tony stark #peter parker

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lothirielswan · 5 years

Text

“Wanna Smell Books with Me?” [19]

Join the journey on AO3 too!

Quest Objective: Someone please hold Jaina's beer.

~Wrathion, the Violet Citadel~

“You have what was promised?”

The banners of lilac and cobalt churned at the top of the alabaster steps. Torches played games with shadows across the floor. Dalaran was known for its knowledge, and yet everything seemed hidden by a layer of smoke.

Grand Magister Rommath gestured with his hands, and a wooden crate settled on the cold ground.

Left and Right guarded the staircase at the bottom, so no one would interfere with our transaction. Anyone who came close was given a death stare along with a long rifle pointed at their nose. Such ferocity. Such power.

I lifted a talon. Two more agents descended from the shadows and cracked open the lid with their blades. Rommath raised a slender eyebrow, but gave no reply.

The artifact rested on cushions of silk. It's intricate golden design was uncanny, created by beings of much higher thinking. Certain parts of the strange machine gave off a soft glow. There was a subtle familiarity to it; it looked exactly like my visions from the Thunder King.

“Our archeologists scoured Northrend, the Badlands, Uldum. We found the pieces scattered throughout.” The Grand Magister explained. His features were bathed in twilight hues of gold, azure and violet that made up the room. The dark velvet of my robes were sun-kissed by the gleam of the artifact, like the first rays of dawn. A new beginning.

I hummed with satisfaction. No more hiding. No more shame. The Black Dragonflight will reclaim what is rightfully ours.

“It was a pleasure doing business, Grand Magister,” His title rolled off my tongue. I snapped my fingers, and two more lackeys emerged from the darkness of the room to carry the crate out of sight. Rommath’s quirked eyebrow grew more rigid.

“You have an abundance of recruits.” He said.

I lightly shrugged my shoulders with a pinch of modesty. “I’m comfortable. I’m afraid you can't say the same.”

I heard of the plight of the sin’dorei. The filthy remains of the Scourge still ran across their homeland, and the elves’ numbers were few. It was a shame, such powerful sorcerers turned to arcane addicts. They did not wander ruins simply for the joy of finding lost artifacts.

Rommath did not appear pleased to bring up the state of his homeland. “That is not a Black dragon’s business.”

“But it could be.” I said.

The bare muscles of his arms stiffened. Rommath muttered, “In what way?”

“I have plans, Grand Magister. Plans that will change the course of Azeroth,” Said I. I was poised and proud, shoulders out as if I had my wings on display.

“Your people are near extinction; I can modify that. Your forces can join mine, and I will reward you.”

Rommath was silent for a moment. “You sound like the Betrayer.”

Illidan Stormrage. Another famous figure. I never had the luxury to meet the former Lord of Outland, but he surely lived up to his reputation during the Legion’s recent invasion.

I replied, “The Betrayer did what was necessary to achieve a higher goal; he opposed the Legion-–”

“And many died in that campaign.” Rommath took another step closer. His fists were clenched like two threatening boulders of marble. The bridge of his nose creased like cracked alabaster. “Many suffered. Many are still paying the price. I would caution you with whatever plot you have come up with.”

“...So that's a no on joining me?” I remarked, unfazed by his closeness and the pain laced within his voice.

The Grand Magister’s head cocked to the side. “The fate of my people is not for me to decide; that is the Regent Lord’s will, what little remains of it. I will inform him of your offer, and the costs.”

Rommath gave a curt nod with his scarf still covering his lips, a last mockery that I still did not know everything he did.

His back was to me when I called out one last time. “Grand Magister?”

His shoulders slumped from exhaustion, and faced me with his expression still disguised behind scarlet silk. “Yes, Black Prince?”

My lips curled into a smile, baring my teeth with sharp points to be persuasive. “I urge you to consider my proposal. I doubt your people would like to be on the wrong side of history a second time.”

Rommath’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you should follow your own advice.”

~Eona, the Purple Parlor~

“Jaina, please-–”

“No. Jaina’s not here right now. Jaina’s on vacation.” Jaina held up a cautionary finger as she slumped down into one of the padded chairs. Her interest moved to the bookshelf near her as I pleaded with her.

“I don't know where Khadgar is and I got a bad-omens vibe from Chromie! Please? I’ll pay you back for the danish.” I replied.

Jaina shot me a foul look at the mere mention of the pastry. But she didn't answer. Instead, Jaina pulled a random book from the shelves, opened it, and hid her face behind the cover.

“Oh,” She moaned into the ink-smothered parchment filled with knowledge. “I miss that smell. I miss books. I miss my youth.”

I lowered her book so I could meet her gaze. “You’re still incredibly young.”

“Ha!” Jaina settled back in her chair and propped her feet up on the nearest table. “Young. What is young? Innocence. Ambition. Love…”

Her fingers suddenly clenched the leather cover of the novel. “Arthas is dead.”

I flinched and felt a pang of guilt. I managed a breathy response, “Yes, he is.”

Jaina gently tugged at the bottom of her braid. So much of her blonde locks had been consumed by the frosty white arcane. Her eyes were black and blue, like ice in the dark. Her voice was melodic like a river, and it had been frozen over. She was still young. But she looked exhausted, like the years had feasted on her spirit.

“It's an odd thing to say, but...I feel like him now.” Jaina’s attention was lost to some illusion that I could not see. Her fingers twitched towards the brooch. “Arthas, he was such a contradiction. He loved his people. He fought undead. He opposed dreadlords. Then he changed. He killed his people. He lead the undead. He took orders from dreadlords.”

Jaina stroked the crest with her thumb. “And now here I am. I used to have faith that everything would work out alright. I used to have faith in myself. Now...”

She shook her head, not for long, but with intensity, as if she could banish the thoughts like one could wring blood out of a healer’s rag. “Now I'm young. And my youth is gone.”

I didn't know what to say. I stole a chair from the other side of the table and dragged it next to hers. At random I plucked a book from one of the shelves and glanced over at her.

I bit my lip as I held up the novel. “Wanna smell books with me…?”

Jaina’s eyes were glassy as she stared at the cover. She nodded, a small smile on her lips. She wiped at her eyes. “I thought you would never ask.”

Our arms brushed together as I opened the first page and started to read. Yes, Khadgar and Dalaran needed us. But Jaina needed this more.

“The girl’s fiance dies in that one.” Jaina remarked.

I looked up at her smirk. “This is what I get for stealing your danish?”

“You brought a bookworm along to smell books, Eona. You should’ve known that something would get spoiled.”

~*~

We were still reading in the Purple Parlor when the air thickened from a teleportation spell. Arcane crackled across my skin and light filled the chamber.

I blinked a few times, stunned by the new change in the atmosphere. Jaina was used to the way of magics and was already standing, staff in hand. Her expression turned grim.

“Khadgar!” I ran to him as I made out his form.

I caught his arm as he stumbled, feeling the coldness of his skin through his dark blue robes. He was pale, and his forehead glistened with sweat as he swayed on his feet.

Archmages Modera and Aethas materialized on his sides. They wore the same drained expressions. Jaina helped Modera down as Khadgar teetered in my grasp.

“Eona...you never told me you had sisters,” Khadgar gasped. I held onto his arms, trying to still him as best as I could.

“Huh?” I said.

“Yes,” Khadgar held up a finger, pointing to the air around me. “There’s three of you...am I counting right? Aethas! What do your elf eyes see?”

“Stars...so many stars...” Aethas groaned and yanked off his hood to massage his temples.

I lead Khadgar to a one-armed sofa as he spoke in his dreamy state of delirium. “You know, I bet if Sylvanas raised me from the dead...I’d be like Beetlejuice.”

I sat the Archmage down and frowned as I leaned over him. “Please don't give me that mental image, Khadgar.”

“No, it's perfect! You can be Lydia! IT’S SHOWTIME-–wee!” I urged Khadgar down to lie on the sofa, smoothing out his hair as I did so.

I glanced over at Jaina as she examined the other two mages.

“What happened to them?” I asked. I wonder if Anduin is still here. He’s a skilled healer, he might know.

“You know, Eona, you smell really nice.” Khadgar rasped below me. “Kind of like strawberries. Which is funny, you look like a strawberry. You’re covered in seeds…”

I crossed my arms. My white linen shirt came down to my elbows, so the freckles drizzled across my arms were still visible.

“Where were you last, Modera?” I heard Jaina ask.

I joined the two mages across the parlor. Modera seemed less hysterical than Khadgar, but just as exhausted.

“Violet Hold,” She gasped. “the prisoners escaped...we went to track them...they trapped us there. Kalecgos is still with them-–”

My eyes flew open. Jaina and I exchanged a look.

“–-then we faced the Vampyr…” Modera’s head tipped back as she gulped in air.

Jaina nudged my arm. She didn't need to. The two red dots on Modera’s neck said it all. I sprinted back to Khadgar. His skin was branded with the same two marks.

“Aethas too,” Jaina said quietly, smoothing her robes as she stood upright.

We backed away from the three limp mages, watching as their movements seemed to slow.

“If they…” I swallowed. “does that mean they’re stuck that way?”

“No. We have spells to remove it, and it's usually temporary. I can ask Anduin or Malfurion to tend to them.” Jaina glanced up at her own staff, then quickly retrieved the long weapons from where the mages lay.

I nodded, moving my hair away from the front of my face. As I did so, Khadgar leaned up slightly, sniffing the air.

“What about Kalec?” I said.

Jaina returned to my side with their staffs and her eyes flickered over the sleeping bodies. “We’ll get him together. I’ll meet you at Violet Hold. Let’s clean up the Kirin Tor’s mess before the summit has the chance to notice.”

We stepped back into the shimmering portal and our feet echoed as we appeared at the staircase of the Violet Citadel. Jaina raced towards the Anduin; I took the steps two at a time with my thoughts on Kalec.

I squinted as a familiar face lingered at the bottom of the steps. Grand Magister Rommath looked to my coming, his eyes analyzing me like a spellbook.

“Eona, I must speak with you.” He said as I was halfway down the mountain of steps. My calves were burning and I didn't care. Kalec’s face kept flashing before my eyes.

“I'm sorry, now is not a good time.” I remarked.

“It’s important-–”

“Then we’ll discuss it later.” I finally reached the bottom of the stairs and sped past him.

“You are going to slip if you move too swiftly, Lady Sunstrider.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I love cliffhangers :3

Chromie: Me too! Although, I usually see them coming with my powers, but they're still entertaining--but that's not why I'm here. Author, you're messing with the timestreams!

Author: Don't worry, I have a permit.

Chromie: I'm sorry, Author. That bowl of edible cookie dough that you offered the Bronze Dragonflight was delicious, but it does not allow you to go willy-nilly with the past. The Dark Portal was closed for twenty years, making Eona's existence impossible!

*Awesome freaky lightshow happens. Nozdormu, Lord of Time, appears*

Nozdormu: Author, well met. I must say, your work with this new future for Azeroth is...entertaining, but Chronomu is correct.

Author: Jeez, Marvel didn't have these kinds of laws set up--then again, Deadpool was my co-writer. Protectors of Time, please hear me out! I have a loophole!

Nozdormu: Very well, Author. Do as you must. We will be watching...and if you can spare me a cameo, it would touch this old dragon's heart. You even let Kalecgos have a minor role in this story, and he's practically invisible!

Kalec: ...Thanks.

Author: Will do, Lord Nozdormu! Thanks for stopping by, Chromie! As for you Awesome Adventurers, you can actually witness the first time Eona's parents met now, in the recently updated "Protectors of the Present"! Hope you enjoyed c: love, fortune and glory to you!!

#featuring Khadgar the undead Beetlejuice #thrilling adventures of eona #World of Warcraft #khadgar #Jaina Proudmoore #kalecgos #archmage modera #aethas sunreaver #Eona Strider

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