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babyboibucky · 3 years

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The Match - Part 2

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The aftermath of matching with your boss on Tinder.

Word Count: 3,344

Warnings: FILTHY SMUT, boss x employee affair, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected office sex 🤷🏻‍♀️

A/N: Hmmm yes, part 2 of The Match is finally out and I hope this did not disappoint 😂

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“Am I really doing this?”

You asked yourself in the mirror before making a face, “Of course I am.” You huffed out and adjusted your breasts inside your bra.

After your brief yet tension-filled encounter with James, you sprinted to the bathroom as soon as you reached your floor. And mind you, you did that while wearing a tight pencil skirt and a pair of heels. It really surprised you how your thirst made you do that with ease.

If there was an olympics dedicated for thirsty bitches trying to get some, you’d probably bring home the gold with how fast you moved.

You checked your watch for the time, you still had ten minutes left so you made sure to fix yourself up. Of course, the logical part of your brain was screaming for you to get a grip because really? You were going to let your boss fuck you? In his office? During work hours? You were at a damn risk here; you could get caught or even worse, lose your job. But was that going to stop you?

Hell fucking no.

Checking yourself out in the mirror one last time, you let out a deep breath and walked out. Maybe you were just being hyper aware given that you were headed to your boss’ office to get fucked, but you felt uncomfortable as you passed by your colleagues. You offered them polite smiles and tried to act normal. Thank god the elevator was just a few steps away.

“Oh thank goodness, there you are.” Your manager immediately blocked your way and handed you a couple of folders.

“I need you to make a report out of these. I have a presentation before lunch.” She explained.

You frowned, “I’m sorry but aren’t you supposed to do these, not me? Besides, Ja— Mister Barnes called requested me to see him in his office.”

Your manager used to be on the same level as you were but was promoted a couple of months ago. Why? You absolutely have no idea. She wasn’t the best at her job, in fact, you felt like the promotion should’ve been yours. Since she became your manager, she had been passing some of her tasks to you and snatching away the credit like a fucking bitch.

Your managed narrowed her eyes at you, “The James Barnes requested for you? Why?” She asked suspiciously, hands on her hips.

Of course she would be suspicious, you never worked with James before. But the fact that you were going there for a completely different reason made you sweat.

You breathed out through your nose, shaking your head and avoiding your manager’s gaze. “I...who knows? I mean, I have no idea why. He just told me to see him in his office and that’s about it. I really don’t know the reason, why would he even ask for me? Probably not a big deal, it’s very normal to ask a subordinate into your office, right? Do you know why he asked for me?” You were a blabbering mess at this point.

Your manager scoffed, “If I did, I wouldn’t ask you.” She responded before waving a hand. “Anyway, I’ll take care of him. Go and work on the reports now. Before lunch, remember.” She commanded, pointing a finger at you before walking away.

“Wait! But I...” you trailed, looking at the folders in your hand before checking your watch. Five minutes left. “...I was gonna get fucked...” you whispered in disappointment before stomping your way back to your cubicle.

The tantrums you made when you reached your desk didn’t go unnoticed. Who wouldn’t be grumpy anyway? Your manager just cockblocked you on your way to get some D, and it’s not even some regular D. James would probably be balls-deep in you now but instead, you were getting fucked by a report that wasn’t even supposed to be your responsibility.

You were typing away on your computer when you noticed the office chatter start to die down, the loud conversations transforming into hushed whispers. The HR probably paid your floor a visit, you thought and continued to work on the report.

“Any reason why you’re here and not in my office?”

Shit.

Your whole body froze at the sound of James’ voice. No wonder the entire floor grew silent, he was always in his office or out for a meeting. He wasn’t one to visit his subordinates but here he was, standing by your cubicle and looking down at you with dark eyes.

You stood up and noticed that your colleagues were watching, whispering to each other and most definitely wondering why James paid you a little visit.

“I’m sorry, I uhh there was a—“

“Mister Barnes!” Your manager greeted, a little too chirpy, when she saw James. “I was just about to head to your office to tell you that she’s working on an important report. She’ll come to your office when she’s done. I’ll make sure of it.” She said, offering James a huge smile that made you want to gag.

James kept his eyes on you, completely ignoring your manager. You licked your lips and tried your best not to break eye contact.

“And when was it okay to bypass your boss’ orders?” James asked your manager, his eyes still trained on yours.

You bit back a smirk when your manager ended up sputtering out an apology while you and James continued eye fucking each other. While being surrounded by your colleagues. This should worry you actually, the attention you were getting from everyone else seeing that the James Barnes went out of his way to see you. You couldn’t care less at the moment though, not when James was undressing you with his gaze.

“She’s not doing any report this morning. I need her in my office.” James said and tipping his head, asking you to follow him.

You were out of your cubicle in a second and quietly trailed behind James on his way to the elevator, ignoring the curious looks from every colleague you passed by. As soon as the both of you stepped inside the elevator, the torture began yet again.

Standing beside James, a little bit closer now than before, you could feel your skin prickle with goosebumps. The thought of him being all over you in a few minutes was driving you insane. Shit, you were really down to fuck him.

“You know, I don’t like waiting.” He said, turning to you.

“I’m sorry, James. I really—“

“Ah ah ah.” James tutted, backing you up against the corner of the lift— a blind spot, to keep the both you away from the CCTV inside. “That’s not how you called me earlier. Why stop now?” He asked, resting an elbow against the wall caging you with his body.

You let out a tiny whimper, your eyes landing on James’ lips as he bit them. “I’m sorry, sir.” You whispered.

He hummed, leaning forward until his nose touched your cheekbone. “Good girl.” He whispered roughly into your ear.

Your hands found their way onto James’ necktie, tugging him down when you were unable to hold back your desire. But then the elevator dinged and the both of you scrambled away from each other when the doors slid open, revealing a few employees coming from a different floor.

A chorus of greetings for James echoed as they slowly filed into the elevator, pushing you and your boss into the very back. You let out a soft gasp when you felt James’ hands on your waist as he moved behind you, feeling his erection press against your back.

“Can’t wait to have you to myself.” He whispered, sliding a hand down to you ass, giving it a firm squeeze that almost had you keening if not for the company.

Just a few hours earlier you were worrying about crossing paths with your boss whom you matched with on Tinder. Now, you were still worried but only about whether you and James would get caught while his face was in between your legs as you sat on his desk.

“Oh my god, right there...fuck...” you breathed out, head thrown back when James’ tongue circled your sensitive clit.

The moment you James’ office door slammed shut, he was immediately all over you. Pinning you to the wall as he hungrily kissed you, hands wandering all over your body, gripping whatever he could.

James was desperate to have a taste of you, his eyes showed it all. But surprisingly, he managed to make you even more desperate for him than he was for you. He pulled away from the bruising kiss, made you stand still as he walked over to his desk, plopping down on his seat.

His eyes scanned you hungrily as he removed his coat, followed by his tie and then unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves before rolling it up to his elbows.

“Take your panties off.” James had ordered.

Your breath hitched at the roughness of his voice. Following his orders, you reached beneath your pencil skirt and slipped off your underwear and letting it fall to your ankles before stepping out of them.

“C’mere.” James said and his voice was so tender it made you feel soft.

It’s amazing how James could go from sounding soft to almost feral, now that he was lapping up your cunt like a starved man while his subordinates went on about their work just outside.

“Let me see those tits. Been wanting to see them since I saw that bikini photo you had on your profile.” James growled, reaching up to pull down the cups of your bra, setting your breasts free.

Okay, maybe you sort of overdid your Tinder profile for someone who wasn’t really interested to hook-up. It was only one beach photo though, but now you weren’t regretting uploading it, not even a bit.

You keened when James pinched a nipple at the same time he started tongue-fucking your cunt. The entire scene was straight out of a porno, like one of those Naughty America skits minus the bad acting and terrible monologue between a CEO and his secretary.

“Keep it down, will ya? Gotta stay quiet, else we might get caught.” James warned, pulling back to watch your wetness drip down from your cunt to your asshole.

You blinked your eyes as you panted, watching James as he inserted two fingers into your sopping pussy. “Fuuuuck, James...” you whimpered.

“That’s not my name, baby.” James said, stilling his fingers and chuckling when you began wiggling your hips to get some friction.

“Sir, please...” you pleaded.

“You’ve always been an obedient one, aren’t you?” James cooed, bending down to lick a stripe against your folds while pumping his fingers in and out.

“Even doing a report that isn’t even yours, so fucking obedient.” He grunted.

Your moan was cut short when James’ phone began to ring, your eyes widening in panic when he answered it with nonchalance as if his fingers weren’t knuckle deep in your pussy.

“Hi, about time you called. You have any updates about the deal? He asked casually as he stood up from his seat.

James went on to discuss business with whoever it was on the other line. And this was all the while you sat on his desk with your skirt bunched up to your waist and legs wide open. You were about to close your legs, thinking that this rendezvous needed to be put on hold, but James was quick to grab your thigh to stop you from doing so.

You made a face at him, incredulous that he didn’t seem to have any plans of stopping. In fact, he started unbuckling his belt while keeping his eyes on you.

“Excuse me, can you hold for a sec?” James spoke into the phone before putting his mic on mute.

“Not a damn sound.” He told you and raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

Your mouth parted and you weren’t sure anymore whether you were nervous or aroused that your boss was about to fuck you while having a conversation over the phone. James pinched the inside of your thigh when you failed to respond.

“Yes, sir.” You quickly breathed out with a nod.

“Hi, sorry about that. Where were we?” James asked as he unzipped his pants.

Tinder never really piqued your interest that much. It was truly boredom that made you download it. There have been times when you felt like the app had its favorites; hearing your friends gush about this amazing guy they met through the app and all that shit. You almost gave up on the app that Friday night but thank goodness James appeared right before you called it quits.

If your friends were lucky for bagging an amazing guy on Tinder, it was safe to say that you hit the fucking jackpot because not only was James an amazing guy in general, but he had a very, very impressive cock as well.

You felt your pussy throb at the sight of his cock, springing free from the confines of his Calvin Kleins. It was thick and the vein on the underside of his shaft was so prominent you might as well give it a standing ovation.

James ran a tongue over his bottom lip, taking it in between his teeth when he stepped in between your legs to slide his cock along your folds. That gesture alone made your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you threw your head back from the pleasure.

James casually talked on the phone as he lined the tip of his cock to your entrance. Placing a finger on his lips to remind you to stay quiet, he watched your face as he slowly slid inside. You choked on your moan when you felt a slight sting from how his cock was stretching you out. Inch by inch, James pushed himself inside of you until he was fully sheathed.

He stretched you out so fucking good that you suddenly clenched around him, making James cough into the phone to mask the grunt that escaped his lips.

“Fuck.” He breathed out. “That sounds like a tight plan, Sam.” James said through gritted teeth, looking at you pointedly as if warning you to stay put.

James started off with slow, languid thrusts, gauging for your reaction to ensure that you wouldn’t make any noise. Unfortunately for you though, James was hitting all the right spots and it would only be a matter of time that you’d end up whimpering as he fucked you onto his desk.

He sped up his thrusts, pushing into you with more force making you slide up onto his desk every time he slammed back in. Your elbows were aching from how you were leaning your entire weight against them but fuck, you wanted to remain in that position to watch James’ cock disappear into your cunt.

James appeared to be struggling from holding back as well, seeing how his face was turning red and how the veins on his neck were starting to show up. His free hand gripped your thigh tightly, keeping your legs open as he began to speed up his pace.

One particular thrust made you see stars and unconsciously, you let out a moan that immediately turned into a gasp when James wrapped his free hand around your throat.

“That sounds great, Sam. When are you free to meet to further discuss the details?” James asked, his eyes glued onto yours as he pounded into you mercilessly.

His grip around your throat tightened each time you squeaked out the tiniest noise. You were so out of it now; James was fucking you so good that it slipped your mind that you were at work and that James was, well, your boss— the CEO of the company actually.

James could feel your pussy flutter around his cock and quickly put his phone on mute before grunting, “C’mon, baby. Cum for me, make a mess on my cock.”

His command spurred you on and your climax hit you with no warning at all. The coil in your abdomen simply snapped, reducing you into a trembling mess as you came around James’ cock the same time he let go of your throat, only to cover your mouth with his hand as you let out a long, muffled whimper.

“Great, I’ll have my secretary schedule the meeting then. It was great talking to you, Sam.” James literally let his phone slip from his hand as soon as the call ended.

He held your waist with both hands as he chased his own orgasm, fucking you harder until he slipped out and came on your mound.

“Fuck...” he panted as he jerked off his cock, milking it until your folds were covered in his release.

Holy fucking shit, your boss was truly down to fuck. And it was one hell of a fuck too.

You had just finished cleaning up yourself when you somewhat regained your consciousness. Now what? This was what you were worried about, the aftermath of fucking the CEO.

“You good?” James asked as he sat down on his chair.

You nodded and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Yes, sir.”

“Bucky.” James corrected.

“I’m sorry?” Wait, what?

James shrugged, “If we’re going to start working closely, I prefer if you called me by my nickname.” He explained.

You frowned, “I don’t understand?”

What the hell was going on? James sorted through the stack of his papers on his desk (most of which were crumpled when you ended up grabbing them as he fucked you) and handed one over to you.

“You’re promoted as the head of your department.” He announced with a small smile.

Now you were offended. Did he promote you for letting him fuck you? Was this his plan all along? You couldn’t understand a single thing that was going on and James was attentive enough to figure out what you were thinking. You stared at the formal letter discussing your promotion and then back up at James.

“The promotion has nothing to do with us fucking.” He reassured. “Do you think I don’t pay attention to my employees? I know each and everyone in this company, their performance and how they do their jobs. And you...” James said, standing up and walking around his desk until he stood in front of you.

“I’ve been watching you for quite a while now. You have impressive skills. Your reports are exquisite, you know how to manage a team, you’re very smart. Quite the entire package.” He explained with a shrug.

“I’m not sure how my manager will take this given that—“

“That promotion was supposed to be yours but I asked the HR to give it to her instead. You deserve being more than just becoming a manager so now you’re a department head. You’re required to directly report to me moving forward.” James bit his lip as he tipped your chin.

You were at a loss for words. All this time, you thought that your hardwork and efforts haven’t been paying off.

“What do you say?” He asked, tilting his head. “And just so we’re clear, the promotion has been decided before I even stumbled upon your Tinder profile.” He explained.

You let out a chuckle, still unable to believe what had just happened. Your boss fucked you, gave you one of the best orgasms in your entire life and also gave you a promotion. Talk about good fucking luck, all thanks to Tinder.

“Uh I...yes...I’m accepting the promotion.” You said excitedly.

“Good.” James said, taking a step back from you giving you your space back.

“The announcement of the promotion will be e-mailed in a few. Congratulations and I’ll see you tonight.” James said with a smirk.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Tonight?”

“Yeah, we’ll celebrate your promotion. You’re not just the head of your department, baby. You’re mine now.”

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @5-seconds-of-mendes @whoth3hellisbucky @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @twinerd14 @bluehour-553

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag @weird-mumbling @propertyofpoeandbucky @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @mostly-marvel-musings @squishybabies @megzdoodle @little-baby-vixen @annathesillyfriend @xhollycowx @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @5-seconds-of-mendes @gogolucky13 @countonthesun

#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #sebastian stan

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 3 years

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It’s Just a Movie: Part 15 (Poly!Lost Boys x reader) fic

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: angst, depression, blood mention

Word Count: 2081

(( This chapter is mainly just exposition cause I actually want to finish this story and not lose mojo for it!! Hope you guys enjoy!! ))

Nightly visits to the boardwalk never seemed to get boring, even if it’s what you had been doing for months. With the boys, your boys, you could never be bored. Time passed like grains of sand in an hourglass, each day slipping out of your fingers and down to the bottom. As the summer months got closer, the less you felt like going home.

Of course, you had your days, and your phases. Something would happen, usually small, and you’d find yourself reaching for your phone. You had stopped bringing it with you to the boardwalk, finding that you couldn’t take it out on the boardwalk and it wasn’t like you could use it much anyways. And sometimes that was it. You’d remind yourself that you hadn’t brought it with you, that you had no use for it, and that was it. But not always. There were days, days that didn’t start occurring until after you’d been there for over three months, where that realization would encircle your heart like a cruel fist. It’d squeeze, and you would suddenly feel out of place. Wrong. Lost.

Those moments racked through you, and there was hardly much you could do to stop the aftermath the first time it happened. Sobs would escape your mouth before you could stop them, and the boys had been just as taken aback as you were. They had, unfortunately, seen you cry before. But that had been from their own actions. Your sudden break, sudden sorrow, had been confusing to all of them. Though, of course, there were a couple of them who were more vocal than the others. You were lucky that you hadn’t left the cave yet. You had cried for nearly hours, with the boys trying in various ways to get you to stop until they finally just let you let it out.

When you were finally able to explain, you found that they understood more than you thought they would. It was then that you reminded yourself that they were lost too.

You had been lying in your bed with David besides you. They were taking turns trying to cheer you up before, but there was something about the blonde that comforted you just a tad bit more than the others. Perhaps it was that he wasn’t telling you it was going to get better. Or trying to make you laugh. Or trying to cheer you up at all. He was simply there, smoking in your room no matter if you asked him not to. You were laying your head on his chest, which was silent under your ear. After an hour of silence, David decided to speak.

“We all went through, well, something similar.” He said suddenly, and you lifted your head. Confusion was evident on your face, and you said an audible,

“Huh?” David blew the smoke towards the ceiling and shook his head, gesturing to you.

“Your- whatever it was. I guess your denial stage is over.” He said, and you sat up. Denial? For some reason, David was the best at flaring your temper, and his words did exactly that. You had been dating all of them for two months at that point, and David knew what anger looked like on your face fairly well by then.

“Denial?” You echoed, and you watched as the blonde took another drag. In the past months that you’d been dating them, you’d learned to read all of them fairly well too, and you could tell David wished he hadn’t said anything. As annoying as he could be, you found that he just liked getting on your nerves. Not getting into actual fights. He sat up as well, but he leaned back against the mountain of pillows that the boys had collected for you.

“Denial. You were telling yourself that this wasn’t really happening. That you weren’t really staying here.” He said, and you couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to bring this up again. You scoffed, shaking your head as you moved away from him. Now, some things made sense. Why he’d dropped the topic so many months before. He knew you couldn’t control it, and he chose to chalk up your reluctance as denial. You couldn’t believe him, and you had half a mind to tell him to get out before he was reaching for your hand. “I’m saying this because we went through it too, y/n. We all had to mourn our old lives.” He said, and you stared at him in a whirlwind of confusion and anger. But there was something about what he’d said that struck you. It never occurred to you that the boys had anything to leave behind. Sure, you had read the prequel script, but there wasn’t anything solid. Anything that had made it to the screen. You shook your head.

“But I’m not- I’m not like you. I’m not a vampire. And I’m not- We don’t know if I’m staying forever.” You said, and he stared at you. You watched the way his eyes changed. How just the tiniest bit of disappointment had crept into them. In the two months since you’d started dating, David had become more affectionate. You weren’t surprised when he reached out to cup your cheek, and you let him. Even if your anger was still brewing.

“I know.” You could tell that he wanted to say more. Hell, it was rare that he was ever this quiet, and now you almost wished that he would monologue at you. But, whatever he wanted to say, it seemed he had decided you weren’t ready for it yet. Or that he didn’t want the fight that would follow it. Instead, he held out his arms and said, “C’mere.” It was a small command, and you narrowed your eyes at him before you sighed and gave in. You crawled back into his arms, tucking your head under his chin as his arms wrapped around you. Neither of you spoke of the topic anymore, even if his words had caused a new flurry of thoughts inside your head.

You’d been depressed for a few weeks afterwards. Angry and irritable. And, sometimes, just the tad bit resentful of the four. But, you quickly reminded yourself that this wasn’t their fault, and those feelings dissolved as time moved on and the wound began to heal. There were other moments when the wound would reopen, just as painful and wrenching as the first time that you realized you may be stuck there for good, but those times became fewer and farther in-between until the approaching summer brought on a whole new wave of something else. Excitement. Anxiety. Doubt.

And the closer it got, the more difficult it became to ignore your situation. It was finally a week in late March that you asked David what he had in mind for when you met Star, and it had taken all of the boys by surprise. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been planning for the summer, but none of them had dared to discuss any plans that involved factoring you into it. And when you asked, you couldn’t help but notice how it had pleased your boyfriends. Even if they did their best to hide it, though some were better than others. It was growing increasingly difficult to pay attention to David’s ideas when Paul kept kissing down your neck, and Marko wasn’t helping either. He was holding your hand, and if you dared to look in his direction then he would take that as an opportunity to lean in and steal a quick press of your lips. And if you didn’t? Well, he would simply nuzzle your cheek instead. Finally, after a glare from David, you had settled to sit in Dwayne’s lap. Even then, the brunette kept squeezing your waist every so often, and you swore that you could feel him smiling, just ever so slightly, into your hair.

By the time June arrived, acceptance was inevitable. It was officially summer, and there you were. Still in sunny Santa Carla. Not that you got to see the sun that often. But you had been in their world for seven months, and your world seemed like a thing of the past. And as your nerves for the upcoming events grew, you could hardly spare a thought for your home.

There was no clear indicator as to when the Emersons would arrive, and you didn’t have the internet to research. The best you could do once summer arrived was wait. You weren’t the only one that this was proving difficult for, and certain boys seemed ready to pull their hair out when a hint of what was to arrive finally came. Max, no matter how well the boys hid you, had asked if the boys had started seeing anyone. He assured that he hadn’t actually seen you, but he’d said he could rather smell you. Apparently, a feminine scent was hanging off of all of them. The boys did their best to dodge the topic, and dodge mentioning you. The five of you were worrying about how you were going to cover your tracks when you finally caught sight of a curly haired brunette just at the turn of the month.

The five of you had been on the boardwalk together, going on one of your weekly group dates. Dwayne had his arm around you, even if Paul was trying his best to snatch you out from under him. Your breath had hitched when you saw her. You had to admit. She was gorgeous, even if the sight of her made you feel like you were going to faint. Or throw up. Or both. It was Dwayne that called your name before he asked,

“You okay?” And you quickly looked up at the brunette. You looked ahead, pointing with your eyes, at the barefooted and red lipped girl floating through the crowd. When the others saw her, it sobered any fun that they’d been having. It was time. You’d all been discussing it for literal months, and now it was time to put that plan into action. You reached out for the boy besides you, your hand tangling into Pauls’, and you gave it a hard squeeze. The thought repeated in your mind. It was time.

You didn’t know if it was anxiety or adrenaline, but the night seemed to pass by in a blur. You remembered David approaching her, the drive back to the cave, and now you were sitting on the couch with the girl, Star, sitting besides you. You felt a similar feeling as to the first time you met the boys. Disbelief. Surprise. A strange feeling that this couldn’t be real, even if the past seven months made it obvious that it was.

You didn’t expect to get along with her, but it came as a welcome surprise. Stars face had a way of lighting up as she laughed, and it was helped with how much Paul joked with her from his spot on the wall. Both you and Dwayne smiled, Dwayne’s arm wrapped around the back of your seat on the couch. Marko stood besides David’s chair, egging Paul’s joke on further while David sat in his chair, smoked, and laughed at their banter. You were having a good time, even if what was going to happen soon itched at the back of your mind. Even if you knew the events of the future, it was hard to imagine, at least right now, that Star would be alright with betraying them. Even if you had just met, you had to admit that she fit into the group almost a little too well. And you tried to not let jealousy crowd your thoughts, even if it was David's flirting that had gotten her to come to the cave. You reminded yourself that she ended up with Michael. Whatever she thought of your boys now, it'd change the second she saw Michael. If not the second she turned.

When David finally offered her the bottle, you almost felt bad. Almost wanted to stop it. You even went as far as flicking your gaze to David's. But you couldn’t change what needed to be done. Not when she was the one who reeled in Michael. Not when Max was starting to become suspicious. Not when the boys' lives were at stake. That's exactly what David's eyes told you. So, you watched as Star drank the blood.

#the lost boys #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys david #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko #marko the lost boys #david the lost boys #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #The Lost Boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines

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papers4me · 3 years

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Fruits Basket Reboot: Analytical Overview of the Anime

Fruits Basket’s reboot is one of most successful anime reboots since it has:

Amazing story that celebrates human weakness, digs into the depths of human identity & doesn’t shy away from depicting child trauma & abuse. Teaches the values of letting go & walking forward.

The author’s blessing, nostalgia factor from loyal fanbase.

Fixed scheduled 3 season comeback with 63 eps in total planned from the very beginning.

Finished source material with its ending approved by manga fans.

Anime follows the official manga ending.

The “slice of life/shojo” genre doesn’t need budget for fight scenes or big scale realistic animation for its lore.

All these factors contributed to its success, however, this doesn't mean the anime was a masterpiece. It is very good but had issues aren’t in the writing, but rather in the format, overall vision & its effect on characters’ depths.

1. Format:

a. ( Is Fruits Basket an episodic anime or a plot-driving story?)

-The anime couldn’t decide how to adapt the manga content, should it follow it literally & combine two chapters together each time, or take the core plot & drive it by character, or focus on its vision or what? they KNOW that can’t adapt everything. They have 63 eps in total so they have good number of eps to do any choice. However, since the anime is advertised as “ a faithful adaptation” they wanted to cement this announcement in se01 & chose “character of the day” format. Once, the manga fans are assured & hooked, they can drive the rest wherever.

-Se02 was slightly less episodic (minus the beach arc which had perfect pacing). Afterwards, the yuki content was approached similarly to se1 but centered around “ episodic themes”. Lots of characters arcs are pushed to se3 to keep the “mother” theme of se2. that’s why all eps ended happily minus few eps such as tohru’s nightmare ending in isuzu’s ep.

-Se03 is where the anime really had the biggest issues & couldn’t decided between keeping themes or rolling like a true well-written drama-infused story. Thus we see them trying to keep the episodic themes as long as possible in 5 eps & once ep 6 starts & they can no longer label a flowing plot into themes, they rolled into the climax. The entirety of tohru’s neglected issues outside of her role as a mother was condensed in one ep via audio narration, since ep 7 should drive akito into the climax spot, ep 8 is kyo’s & ep 9 is female antagonist vs female protagonist clash. The rest of the eps focus around wrapping the growth arcs of kyo, akito, yuki & tohru.

I wish they kept the episodic forma for se01 only. Se01 is episodic by design since you can’t maneuver around character introduction, but they should’ve let season 2 & 3 flow smoothly without imposing episodic themes that a junior high schooler could detect, simply because the theme will choose which character fits this ep & which must be cut. Hardly a smart decision for a drama-focused story. Example: Se02 post-beach arc, being “mother tohru” themed meant the cut content of any “teenage girl tohru content”, focusing only on her role as a mother & shoving the rest of “tohru” into the unbelievably packed se03.

b. ( How the seasons are divided & which one is best?)

Lots of fans believed that: se1 (kyo focus), se2 (yuki focus), se3 (tohru focus), I don’t think this is the correct official anime format at all, but rather the fans wishful thinking, here’s why:

se01 isn’t kyo’s focus at all. Kyo has ONE focused ep each season: se01:ep24, se3: ep9, & se03: ep8. He gets more screen time in se03 to deal with the aftermath of ep8 & to mark his growth & close his arc. But, yuki had more focused eps in se01 than kyo. Example, se01, ep 12, yuki tells the audience abt his dream of new friends, home & new self, sth he achieved gradually ever since that ep ended, thus, Kisa’s ep is a yuki centered ep as well as it marked the beginning of (a) “mother tohru” issues, (b) him deciding to join student council & get out of his comfort zone which is the beginning of “ new yuki”.

se2 is indeed a yuki centered season.

se03 is not a tohru’s focus at all, we still had (akito, shigure, kyo, kureno, momiji, isuzi, haru, machi, motoko, & more yuki) to start or finish their arcs & it is 13 eps only. tho, Tohru had a self-focused role at last which is good.

-I believe the following format better describes the anime’s seasons’ division since it is driven by themes:

se01: Life teachings for the youngsters, due to the direct format of advise given by mother kyoko thro her daughter to the characters/ audience.

se02: Life teachings thro a coming of age story. The trio are struggling to choose a future, afraid & burdened by their trauma’s. Yuki with the help of “mother tohru” , leaves the nest “youngster stage” & sets his foot into the future & struggles to: have fiends, express himself, face his parents, be honest with himself, form an identity & understand himself.

se03: Life teachings of mature issues to those who have already chosen wrong once or twice. bigger issues are presented such as: guilt, death, trauma, extreme self-loath, self-destructive tendencies (kyo), grief, lack of self-esteem, refusing to let go of the past, abandonment issues, constructed polite girl identity with false happy mask (tohru), superiority complex, false forced identity, sins & misdeeds (akito), other themes such as adultery, manipulation, passiveness & enabling can fit the other characters.

So, naturally, season 3 is the richest in content, extremely entertaining story-focused, plot-driven, multi characters depth, plethora of themes, issues & variety of fascinating character writing to distinguish between various arcs & wrap ups. Honestly, se03 carries the whole success since it IS the story of Fruits Basket ( a basket of different fruits & we get to hear/see them all, including the rice-cake!). Still, se03 suffered from the issues of pacing & format I mentioned above, plus condensed content due to short number of eps dedicated to 12 characters.

2. Overall Vision:

Tohru being the main protagonist carries the story’s vision, however, I think Taklaya-san wanted the vision to expand to all her characters. I duno abt the author’s true vision since I haven’t read the manga, but if I were to guess based on the overall story: it is “the acceptance of human weakness”. Yuki isn't the perfect prince, tohru isn't the angelic mom, kyo isn't the horrible monster. These assumptions are the OTHER characters’ perspective of them. Not their true identity or reality. We later even learn that the abusive akito herself, chose a healthier identity, the atoned family head. However, in the anime, characters’ weakness isn’t the center of the anime’s vision, rather its vision is abt the “nurturing effects of the mother figure”, which is supported by the writing as well, but shouldn't be the core driving plot. The anime is more centered around mothers & more narrowly guided. The characters’ weaknesses takes a second seat until the focus on the mother role is over. This does not affect tohru only, but all characters including yuki himself.

-Tohru being the female protagonist shouldn’t be angelic as this contradicts the core theme, thus tohru is given her own set of (human aspects): trauma, frustrating character traits, faulty coping mechanism: the fake happy mask. Her role as yuki’s mother is only ONE part of her, as big as it is his life & as huge as it is from his perspective. It should NOT be what the audience can only see & feel from tohru. If it is, then Tohru is forever the 16 year-old mother of her peers, sth a normal teenager shouldn't, contradicting the basic existence of the human aspects mentioned above.

a. How does the overall vision being focused on “tohru’s motherly role” affect characters’ depths?

-For Tohru: In the anime, tohru being yuki’s mother lasted for 2 seasons, during that time, we are ONLY allowed to see HER from HIS perspective. Everything abt her human weakness is either vaguely hinted “ few scenes here & there” or pushed to se03. In se01 & 2, tohru is only allowed to act as a “teenage girl” in front of two male characters: (kyo & momiji):

How is tohru depicted in front of kyo & momiji? If you re-watch the anime, once tohru is around these two, her character is very different & she stops giving advice & instead “listen” to them. She is shown more lively & drawn younger & girly, asking more than talking, receiving advice, they both look at her as a normal girl with burdens on her shoulder rather than “savior/care taker”. Kyo complains to her few times abt that & calls her out on her self-denying antics, momoji takes a different approach & subtly provides chances for her to be a “teenage girl”: going to a hot spring & vacation. She opens up to kyo slowly in all her scenes with him, but while she doesn't open up to momiji, she allows herself to show vulnerability & throw her mask a bit in front of him (se01, ep12: she listened to his talk abt his mom, related to him, cried & hugged him with NO advice even tho she didnt tell him abt her mom), se02, she listened to his talk abt his sister, related to him, cried & gave NO advice even tho she didnt tell him she thought abt her mom).

The anime’s heavy focus on her “motherly”side, contradicts showing her as vulnerable & traumatized, hence her backstory lasted for 4 minutes in her own ep, se03, ep6. Later when she faces akito, tohru’s growth kicks in & she starts relating to her issues of abandonment but all this growth came from those 4 minutes of backstory in ep6. In ep9, in front of akito, tohru was depicted just like how she is depicted in all yuki centered eps, ( giving an advice, smiling, a hallow of light around her, the sun rises, the rain stops & she shines her kindness to heal the wounds).

-For Yuki: In the anime, Yuki is shown seeking a mother & all the right monologues & issues are perfectly presented. However, his weakness isn’t only wanting a mother!! yuki is depicted as a prince by others, so a huge part of his growth is to leave the princely persona behind, which is sth that was not focused on in the anime. Outside of his issues on viewing tohru as a mother & wanting friends, yuki continued to be depicted as prince & wasn't much allowed the freedom of being “a normal teenage boy”. Machi narrated that part of his growth, motoko too, but it wasnt depicted much on screen & yuki continued to have dashing bubbles, sparkles, hair flowing on wind & extreme focus on beautiful face. Him becoming a dynamic character outside of his “finishing my tohru-mother confession to my friend” is very short lived. This would’ve easily been fixed if less attention was given to his “mom tohru” phase. He is more than “I used to look at tohru as my mom”.

-For kyo: In the anime, kyo never looked at tohru as a mom, hence from the beginning kyo didn’t fit the overall vision. Hence, all his issues are pushed into se03 when tohru’s “mom role” is finished. There is a reason we have ONE kyo centered ep in se1 & 2. it IS contradicting the current tohru-image of being a mom. Also, kyo’s thoughts are blocked completely for dramatic purposes but he didnt need to be absent from tons of eps which he was, even his growth ever since se01 finale is very subtle in order to not derive from tohru’s image as a mom. We have some scenes of kyo & tohru interacting, but they should be sparse se01, ep 23 (soup ep) or se02, ep2, or short scenes such kyoto scene or tohru’s worried abt her grandpa scene in se2, ep14. Most of kyo’s & tohru’s scenes aren’t solely romantic in their nature but they provide in depth peek into their true personality & identity as humans. With her kyo isn’t angry or annoyed & with him tohru isn’t bubbly with the “I’m okay” mask.

Side Notes:

There is no doubt that the anime was made with respect & love to the source material & the author. I can see this clearly & I don’t deny it at all. This isn’t meant to ridicule them at all. I respect them all plenty.

There is no doubt that the anime team were trying their best & if you like everything, then good for you, if you like some parts & don’t agree with others, then that’s fine. Criticizing is a form of loving, too. Just be respectful.

Preferences, tastes, visions, & outlooks, all differ from one human to another. This is normal & healthy.

The director or decision maker in the anime having different vision from the author is fine, too. After all, he’s a different person. His perspective & understanding of her characters is different. Disagreeing with him is fine. All medium of art are exposed to the audience perspective. I disagree with him on lots of creative decisions such as reliance on monologues, wide shots on intense moments, lack of zoom on facial expressions, most parallel scenes are very in the nose, need for exaggerated drama & over dramatic drawing of tohru & akito at times.

You can even differ with the writer herself on some parts of her writing, that’s fine, too.

I enjoyed this anime lots, it helped me make new friends, discuss lots of fascinating content, & practiced writing short critical reviews, which is sth I’ve missed from my college days!

I love the writing for the main male characters: Yuki & Kyo. I love their arcs so much! Yuki got the best focus on his core issues. Kyo, in particular surprised me as I used to think, due to the minimum content on him, that he’s only the secondary rival of the main male protagonist. But kyo’s story turned out fascinating & very psychological informed.

Still, the anime is lacking to me for its depiction & presentation of women. The main female characters (Tohru & akito) are lacking realistic depiction of their core issues & time dedicated to that. The focus on tohru’s mom role steals from realistic existence as a character on her own right. Akito is a villain for so long & her atonement is quick & her love story is quicker. Both females didn’t get to tell us their traumatic backstory in detail like the boys & they didn’t have enough focus on their human side.

Altho kyo had (1) way less screen time than yuki or even tohru, (2) his true backstory was only revealed in the climax, (3) his inner thoughts were blocked for suspense, he was written wearing his emotions on his sleeve from ep1, so, we grew to feel for him & dreaded what could’ve broken such endearing boy, hence, once it was shown we understood the psychological trauma that destroyed him. One third of the puzzle of his story was revealed each season gradually. (1) se01 (true form), (2) se02 (his bet with akito, knowing kyoko & loving tohru), (3) se03 (His whole backstory including the abusive father).

I wouldn’t say, I wish tohru was given the (yuki treatment) cuz then we’ll need more than 13 eps for se03, I just wished her story & emotions to at least be given the (kyo treatment): Divided into clear thirds (parts).

The anime is a lovely treat that I can recommend to lots of ppl with ease. You dont have to be into shojo to get into it, but it’ll undoubtedly trick you into its subtle main love story that subvert most shojo tropes. The other love stories are good as well, there’s a type of love for every fan!

There’s a number of platonic friendships which is very refreshing!

My Final Verdict of the anime: Very Endearing as it tugs at my heart!

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #overall impression #analytical overview #tried paper #Recommended anime for sure!#Will read the manga!#se03 sells the manga good!

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a-snow-decahedron · 3 years

Text

A Flower's Guide for Happy Endings - Chapter One

Spanish version: coming soon

Summary:

Flowey witnesses the aftermath of the human's journey across the Underground, and tries to make sense of his life now that he's not in control of the timeline. Will it last? Or will he take desperate measures?

Words: 3892

Read on AO3: Link here!

Flowey was still processing the last moments of his life as he left the human's side and watched them cross the Barrier, leaving the Underground behind. The child had chosen to give him mercy, time and time again. The nonsense of this action was so overwhelming, he fled. He didn't pay attention to his surroundings as he moved through the hallways of the King's Castle in New Home. He just kept going, emerging at times to look at a certain turn or wait for the right time to move his roots to another surface. It was almost a matter of reflexes to him. After so many resets, he felt like he could wander across the Underground with his eyes closed and he would know exactly where he was. Environments were something he wasn't able to change, at least not by himself. He didn't find the idea appealing, either. People were much more interesting to interact with... Until they weren't.

There was a wide range of things that could happen at any time in the Underground, and he had done pretty much everything. Some things never changed, though. The Amalgamates were never freed; it was more likely for Alphys to give up than for the truth inside the Lab to come out. Toriel never left the Ruins, no matter what you told her, or what happened outside the closed doors. Asgore never let him see the human souls, no matter how much he insisted. All his efforts were futile in a way, as none of it amounted to anything significant. All could be undone by his will, but not even those things he did held much meaning after a while. It was like watching the same simulation over and over again.

Flowey usually spent about a month or two at most messing around before resetting. In this timeline he had settled for waiting and not being an intervention as much as possible, until new days came by. It was incredibly boring, sadly. So he decided to do meaningless things to pass the time. Nothing much, not like pestering some Moldsmals ever achieved anything. He didn't kill, since that usually meant trouble, and the whole point of this was seeing a world without him. He also watched people he knew. Toriel carried on with her day; sometimes she fell asleep on her reading chair, with one too many cups of wine. Flowey may have given her some water one time, without a reason, simply to make an insignificant difference. Papyrus, a skeleton in Snowdin he had encountered after spying on the Royal Guard, was also an interesting monster to visit. He always had a remark or an anecdote for every place. He was full of such nonsense and contradictions, Flowey always got a laugh or two from his conversations. It was impossible not to play some tricks on him. Every once in a while he dropped predictions in their conversations, which the skeleton seemed to take very seriously at times.

And just when the timeline was starting to get too monotonous, he heard a loud noise on the Ruins, shortly after he had left checking on the flowers. That place.... it always reminded him of his sibling. Golden Flowers were their favorite. That day, at the Ruins, life took an unexpected turn: a human had fallen down, and with them, his control. Needless to say, he freaked out. Not only was this child a fallen human, they were just so much like them— but they couldn't be, could they? In the end. Flowey did what he knew best: got to know this human, acted nice, and then tested their reaction when he betrayed them. The stupid kid fell for his tricks, but Toriel stopped his movements, and took the child with her. The soulless monster, frustrated, tried to go back to his save point, yet he failed: another force was overwriting his mark in spacetime. From then, he decided to follow the human. and see what they did. Soon enough, he found out that the human was the one in control of the timeline, using it to get their way. Through the Ruins, the Snowdin cold, the dark Waterfall and the steaming Hotland, Flowey followed them, catching glimpses of their journey.

What came after the human spared King Asgore was a blur. His determination flowed in a chaotic way when he tried to reminisce about his attempt to take the human souls. It felt so good to have something within that wasn't just willpower fuel. He felt so good, so intense, so alive. That human kid was about to face his true power, to see what he was capable of doing. He had never met someone that could remember overwritten timelines like him, and he wasn't wasting his chance to make the most of it. But human souls are determined and that includes the six within him. They turned against him, and took him back to zero in moments. And then... well. He simply couldn't understand. His control was lost again. The human just needed one blow to finish him off, but they refused and crossed the Barrier. Why not even try? Why not give him the same pain? Why does it matter if he lives or not, anyways?

He was back in Snowdin town by the time his inner monologue had gone full circle, all caused by the human who’d come and gone in what felt like a mere blink. By the time he got to the town it was early night, the time many monsters had dinner. Snowdin had a system of streetlights that was usually too high for non-flying monsters to reach. They were powered by the CORE, and to tell apart day and night, they had set a gradual energy-saving mode that reduced the amount of lights during the night, synchronized with the time on the Surface. The lights were said to resemble stars. Real stars were prettier, but it did the job well enough for the thousands of monsters that had never seen the Surface.

Flowey was standing on a residential street, still muttering to himself, looking at the houses' windows filled with light and the smell of homemade food. He wasn't quick enough to hide after hearing a muffled voice and a door being bumped open. A yellow striped kid, holding a bag of trash with their mouth and on their way to the trashcan, gasped at Flowey and dropped the bag on the snow.

"The talking flower's real?!" They opened their eyes wide, like they had seen the surface. As Flowey tried to curl underground to leave, the monster child spoke. "Yo, don't leave! Papyrus told me about you!"

At the mention of the name, the soulless flower hesitated, then turned around "Howdy! I'm Flowey the flower.” He forced a grin. "And just what has he told you?" he asked, slightly squinting.

"Well..." The kid stared at a point beyond Flowey, thinking of their answer. "We just met today! I mean, I've seen him before, but we never, like, talked. I was on my way back to Snowdin after I left the human in Water— yo, did you hear a human showed up in town today? It's crazy!" They hopped excitedly, shaking their tail happily.

Flowey raised a brow and waved with one of the roots he pulled from the ground, signaling the kid to keep talking. He supposed hearing some gossip was good enough for now, until he figured out what to do now, or found a way to gain his control of the timeline again.

"I didn't know they were human at first, but man, they were so nice! I showed them some caverns in Waterfall on our way. I was so excited to see Undyne fight bad guys! But it turns out they, uhm, were the bad guy Undyne was going after?" They trailed off, looking for a way to follow their story. "She told me that the human was bad, that i could get hurt. And she tried to attack them! But they saved me so they can’t be bad! I had to show her! Yo I dunno what came over me, it felt like my heart was pounding out of my chest. But I told her, s-she would not. I was really scared, but I think it worked! And then I... left them to go home because my parents would worry if I was out late", they mumbled the last part, feeling their rush of energy decrease.

Flowey shot them an impatient glance. "Ok, got you. But when does Papyrus show up in all this?"

"Oh yeah! Right! We met when I was on my way to Snowdin. He said some things about using friendship for his duties as a future royal guardsman, and then we talked about Undyne. He said she is training him to be part of the guard- it sounds so cool! I wanna be just like him one day!" They hopped on one foot. "Then... I asked him about the friend stuff he said, and he told me he didn't have many friends, but Undyne was really close. And then he spoke of a talking flower, that had like, prediction powers. He said you gave encouragement, advice and stuff. I didn't think you were real, but man, was I wrong."

"Is that it?" Flowey raised a brow, getting tired of the kid's chatter. Maybe someone else would have liked talkative friends, but he had enough for that day, and frankly he just wanted to get healed. All the talking was making him dizzy.

"Yeah! It has to be you, right? Man, if we become friends I would break my friend-making record. Three people in one day! Yo this is so great." Their tail moved from side to side.

Flowey yawned, feigning sleepiness "Hey kid, it's nice talking, but don't you have anything better to do?" He pointed to the trashbag with his body.

"Oh right! I forgot. Thanks dude!" they said, picking up the bag with their teeth and walking to the trashcan on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, you don't want to get in trouble, right? I don't think your parents are very happy you went too far into Waterfall on your own with some stranger."

Flowey shrank a bit to appear smaller as the child walked towards him. "Before you leave, I need something. Do it for your new friend, wontcha? Can you get me a snack? I got in a friendly fight and my HP isn't the best right now. I could use some help." He pulled the most innocent smile he could, which was always convincing.

"Ok! Be right back, yo!" They dashed to their house and came out a minute later, pulling two cinnamon bunnies from their inventory and almost dropping them on the floor.

Flowey picked them up with his roots and saved them on his own inventory with a poof. "Thanks, kid!"

"Yeah, no problem Flowey!" They paused and then added "Yo, I forgot to tell you my name, it's M—" Before they had finished their sentence, the flower was gone, like it was never there.

As Flowey moved under the snow, he didn't notice the recent footsteps or the furry monster that made them as they made their way towards the Riverperson place.

Flowey emerged at the side of the skeleton brothers’ house, careful not to be seen. He took a cinnamon bunny, took a bite, and then tried to rest. Sleeping as a flower wasn't easy. It wasn't like laying down in a bed. He technically didn't need to sleep, as long as he had energy from the lights around him or food. As a plant, the most he could do was fold his petals on his face, and find a place where the wind wouldn't bother him and nobody would step on him by accident. Despite this, if he wanted to recover from his injuries, he needed to rest in order to restore his HP.

Flowey was making himself comfortable —as much as he could in a town like Snowdin—, when he heard a door shut strongly on the second floor of the house. It seemed people were at home. He moved closer to eavesdrop on them, but it wasn't necessary, as the speakers were loud enough on their own.

"So... I'm staying here tonight, right? Until I fix my house."

"YOU'RE ALWAYS WELCOME TO STAY HERE, BUT YES, WE'LL FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO ABOUT THE HOUSE TOMORROW!"

"When do you think the human's coming back? Do you think they'll stay at the inn?

"IT'S WHAT I EXPECT, BUT MAYBE THEY WENT TO NEW HOME AND FOUND SOMEWHERE ELSE TO SLEEP? THEY HAVEN'T CALLED SINCE THEY GOT TO THE CORE."

"They better not be hanging outside late or they'll get in trouble with me."

"WHAT IF THE HUMAN'S NOCTURNAL?”

"Who knows? Not ME at least. Anime says all kinds of things that don't make sense when you put them together, like in some of them, some humans have cat ears, but in others that's not possible. At least they should have something cooler, like fins!"

"OR BONES! HMM, BUT WE CAN ONLY GUESS. PERHAPS THEY ARE NOCTURNAL, I HEARD HUMANS HAVE SOMETHING CALLED TIMEZONES. MY BROTHER TOLD ME ABOUT IT WHEN WE WERE TALKING ABOUT THE SUN..."

At that point Flowey stopped listening. Those two went over several topics, and whenever they didn't know something, they made it up with their theories. It was amusing in the first dozen resets, but by now Flowey had exhausted all possible topics with each of them...

Suddenly, he heard something that was new to him.

"SO UNDYNE, I SEE YOU ARE CARRYING A LETTER? IS IT FOR SOMEONE SPECIAL?" Papyrus inquired, teasingly.

A letter? Flowey had seen many letters. Several had been addressed to Dr. Alphys. He wondered why the fish monster would have one too.

"WHAT? Well, I don't want it to get damaged in case I burn down the house on accident again— BUT NOT FOR ANY SPECIAL REASON, it's just a silly thing I keep with me."

"WHO IS IT ADDRESSED TO, THEN?"

"Uh...."

"WILL YOU LET ME READ IT?"

"Absolutely NOT! It's personal!"

"SO IS IT FOR ALPHYS..." A pause. "YOU DID NOT DENY IT. SO WHY DON'T YOU JUST CALL HER, DELIVER IT, AND SEE HER REACTION?" There was the sound of a phone being unlocked. "I'LL DO THE PHONE CALL!"

"Papyrus, no! I need to rewrite it, it's not done yet! Give me the phone, darn it!" There was another pause. "Ok, thanks. Besides, she's probably busy fixing Mettaton right now. Did you see his new body? And BEFORE you make any remark on how hot or handsome he is, DON'T." Nyeh-heh-heh’s were heard in response. "Anyways, she must be busy, and I don't think I can just show her this letter. I'm afraid things could go wrong— I wouldn't know what to do!"

"FINE, BUT IF YOU EVER NEED ADVICE, LISTEN TO ME. YOU NEED THAT KIND OF BRAVERY IN YOUR LIFE" A clicking noise like a wink was heard.

"NGAAAH- shut up!" She lowered her voice. "Hey, if you don't mind, can you leave while I change my clothes?"

"OF COURSE, I STILL HAVE SOME OF YOUR CLOTHES FROM THE LAST TIME YOUR HOUSE BURNT DOWN. I'LL GIVE YOU PRIVACY."

"Thank you, now GET OUT." The door was closed. Strong pacing could be heard for a few minutes, before the window opened with a harsh movement and small shreds of paper were dropped one by one, “I really can't do it,”she muttered “It's too much. I'll make a better one soon. That will be the one.”

The humidity of the snow would soon leak into the remains of the letter and erase its message, never to be read by anyone. Well, not anyone who was meant to read it anyways. Flowey leaned closer and used a root to pick up a part of the letter. It took him five endearment terms and three uses of the verb love to know it was an excessively corny confession directed at the Royal Scientist.

It seemed almost atypical for the fish monster. However, Flowey knew better. During some of his runs he had experimented with the Royal Guard, testing their strengths and weaknesses. Undyne was a particularly difficult monster to deal with. Once you became her enemy, she would strike you down no matter what. Her green soul magic forced any monster under its effect to stay still and only use its own magic bullets as protection. Flowey, being soulless, was not affected by this kind of magic, but that still didn't make fleeing much easier. He had killed her the first time they faced each other, after dying to her several times. That had been the first timeline he decided to kill, throwing bullets at some of the weakest known monsters. Undyne had been furious, and decided to find the culprit and bring them to justice. When Flowey did manage to kill her, though, she resisted. With her last breaths, she kept on fighting, refusing to die. Her last words were dedicated to every monster in the Underground she swore to protect, and as she melted, she regretted never "telling it to Alphys". He had figured out what it was by other sources. The letter was just further confirmation.

No other monster had shown such determination to keep going, and those words rang in Flowey's head. Somehow, the possibility of making someone be honest about their feelings towards something —or someone else— made him particularly curious. He had tried to help her, more than once, but no attempt had been successful. He kept trying for a few more runs. Undyne's resilience reminded him of his own sibling. He thought that maybe staying determined and reaching, helping, and fixing things would... do something. Perhaps he had to be more like them, more like Chara. But he was hopeless now. Nothing he did ever lasted, nothing he did made him feel right.

"Hurts, doesn't it? Some things never change. She writes letters but she will never do anything with them." He dropped the letter and went back to rest for what was left of the night, hoping to restore his HP.

* * *

The "Riverperson'' was never just one monster. There were three of them. Their family had been passionate about sailing for decades; some said they had the reputation even before the war, and ever since monsters found a stream that connected all areas, the River family had dedicated itself to provide quick travel to everyone in the Underground. When it was nighttime, and most monsters outside were nocturnal creatures, only one of them was around. They gazed at the Snowdin port. All three siblings had great intuition, and that night, they agreed, was bound to be interesting.

"Greetings. Would it be possible to make use of your service tonight?" a soft voice asked.

The river monster turned to face the source of the voice and saw a tall white furry monster. They resembled most inhabitants of the small town, with a thick layer of fur covering their features. But something about their presence radiated a sense of grace. A good River monster made no distinction among their travelers, so they simply pointed to the empty space on their boat.

"Tri li li, where would you like to go?"

"Take me to Hotland, please,” the monster said calmly

The Riverperson took off with their only passenger for that ride.

It was late, but despite the time, a few nocturnal monsters could always be found wandering the streets, among the low-glowing lights. The sight of the new monster immediately sparked rumors, catching the attention of the few awake. From the forest, a Whimsun flew, carrying news from the Ruins. The great door deep in Snowdin forest had been opened, and its caretaker was making their way to the capital. Young monsters were perplexed by the story, but older, wiser ones knew this meant great incoming change for the whole kingdom. Nobody knew for certain what had become of Queen Toriel after the deaths of her children, but it seemed that the words carried by the small flying monster could be the solution to the century old mystery. Soon enough, word was spread in the snowy town among the elders. They were careful and cautious, not to make quick assumptions, but staying alert.

The ride across the cave system had not been long, but it certainly felt like eternity, even for a monster with such a long life as Toriel. She was worried sick, wondering whether the human child had been harmed. As she set foot on Hotland, and waved the Riverperson farewell, the feeling of unease only increased. She did not know where the child had gone. All the monsters she had spoken to had little to no information, seeing as they weren't awake during the day, and therefore hadn't seen anything worth noting. However, as Toriel walked through the dry roads, she noticed flyers, all related to a human kid that had been spotted in Hotland, as a guest on the Underground's greatest celebrity's shows. She walked faster, hoping to reach New Home soon. Time felt so slow, each step lasting a small eternity in her anxious mind.

By the time she had reached the castle, the artificial lights were starting to get brighter. She was determined to reach her destination. She could not allow Asgore to take another soul, and she was going to stop him herself if she had to. She would not let another child be hurt by him. Her steps covered longer distances, as she walked across the familiar hallways. Her breathing was fast, and her paws felt heated with anxiety, small fire bullets dancing around her fingers. She paid no mind to the monsters that walked around her, except to ask about the king once: a tall catlike monster indicated that the king was last seen at the throne room last evening, but was not seen leaving the place ever since. As she approached the throne room, an odd feeling made her magic shiver. There was no sight of the King.

She walked in, careful not to step on the golden flowers that decorated the room. In a way, both of them had remembered their children using those flowers. She shook the thought out of her mind, and she went across the room to a smaller entrance. That room had a single orifice at the ceiling, letting the first rays of the morning sun go through. No sign of the King, either.

She feared the worst.

She prepared her fire attacks.

She breathed deeply.

She stepped into the room that led to the Barrier.

She dropped her attacks, which disappeared in an instant.

Before her was a crown, and an armor covered in a purple cape. Dust on the floor, and an ear-ringing silence. A gardening knife was a few feet away.

This was the day the Underground's King had perished.

This was the day a human made it out of the monsters' world alive.

This was the day things would change forever for their kind.

The Queen took the crown. Her expression was solemn, and she braced herself to make the announcement known to everyone in the Underground.

"King Asgore has died."

#undertale #ut fanfiction #fic #ut fanfic #ut fic #flowey #toriel #undyne #papyrus #monster kid #geometric thoughts

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skellebonez · 3 years

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"Prompt #67" ~Red Son right b4 he passes out severely injured in front of Pigsy's. Oh, yeah, and they still think he's evil, but like... He might have other useful info once he wakes up. (And no, he did not say that bc PIF hurt him. He just wanted to let them know his mother was terrifying as well! Helping!)

After the heaviness and length of the last few prompts I'm writing today's a slight bit more light hearted! The angst shall return but today is a lighter day!

My father may look like the scary one, but it’s my mother you need to be afraid of.

Another day, another scheme from the Demon Bull Family to get... something. What that something was, Xiaotian didn't really know. Red Son had been shockingly vague in his monologues the last few attacks, probably in an attempt to actually keep more than 50% their plans secret. He didn't even seem to be taking the fight all that seriously either...

But the fight ended up going in no way that anyone had expected. How could anyone expect a third party to randomly show up proclaiming to get vengeance on both the Demon Bull King and Sun Wukong at the same time by taking out "their kids" (Xiaotian would put a cap on that for now and talk with the Monkey King asap for some clearly needed elaboration). The demon was a lot stronger than either of them has expected and they ended up back at Pigsy's Noodles, where their own battle had begun, much faster than they had anticipated. The demon wasn't having the easiest time though, and he aimed one last attack at Xiaotian with a cackle of victory and-

"I'M THE ONLY ONE ALLOWED TO DEFEAT THE NOODLE BOY!" Red Son screamed, jumping in front of Xiaotian without warning and unleashing a massive torrent of fire and wow Xiaotian was realizing that Red was really holding back in their fights.

He watched as the color seemed to almost burn away from Red Son's hair as the torrent of flames continued and burnt the other demon into ashes (presumably, he couldn't exactly see through all the FIRE), charring black at the roots and stark white at the tips like the aftermath of a charcoal flame burning out. As the flame finally dissipated Xiaotian stared, watching as Red Son stood as tall as he could muster on wobbly legs and turn to him... and then he realized the red in his hair was replaced by a different kind of red as he saw a deeper color than usual seeping into his coat.

"Oh..." Red Son said, a warble and wheeze in his voice that was more than a little concerning. "That... that wasn't supposed to happen..."

"Kid, what the- WHOA!" Pigsy ran out of his restaurant, Tang following close by, and took in the sight of the fire demon before them. "What the hell happened to you?"

"A miscalculation," Red replied in that same wheezy warble voice, and Xiaotian realized it was more of a slurring of his words than a warble at this point. He took a shaky step forward, stumbling ahead another three before stopping before slamming into Xiaotian. "Bad one."

"Why in the world did you do that?" Xiaotian asked, looking at the burnt out fire demon in rising concern. He may be his enemy but he did just save his life probably maybe? He reached out, holding his shoulder to keep him steady and the fact Red Son's gaze did not focus on him worried him even more. "UH, Pigsy? I think he needs help!"

"Oh no!" Pigsy shook his head quickly, brandishing the wooden spoon in his hand like a mighty weapon. "What if DBK finds out he's here!?"

"My father may look like the scary one," Red Son wheezed out with a cough. "But it’s my mother you need... to be afraid... of."

As he said this Xiaotian watched as his eyes rolled back in his head and he immediately collapsed backwards, just barely being caught by Xiaotian's arms.

"Oh, no, we are helping him!" Xiaotian said firmly, hefting him into his arms with absolutely no effort (thank Sun Wukong for Monkey King strength!) and walked him toward the fire escape to carry him into his apartment above the shop.

"... Maybe we can get some information out of him in exchange?" Tang offered softly, a glint in his glasses and a smirk on his lips.

Pigsy stared at him with wide eyes. "You know, sometimes you scare me."

#the idea of red son overusing his fire and burning out is very interesting #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #red son #qi xiaotian #pigsy #tang #gen fic #prompt fill #tang being secretly scary is just silly fun even if it doesn't entirely fit

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playing--koi · 4 years

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Errand Boy

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Warning(s): SMUT (18+), language, unprotected sex, infidelity

Summary: Your father, the king, has been employing Geralt of Rivia to do many jobs for him, however most find it to be quite curious considering Geralt doesn’t typically make a habit of returning to the same employers. Perhaps he’s found another purpose besides coin?

Word Count: 3.6k

MASTERLIST

Jaskier sat idly as he waited for Geralt to fetch him at the pub. Strumming his guitar lazily and nursing a beer was all he could bring himself to do in his state of boredom. Not many people were inhabiting the bar, so he had no one to entertain with his tales of grandeur. He could only imagine whatever task Geralt was doomed to endure in search of profit. Something about ghouls? He couldn’t even bother to remember what silly little task the king had sent Geralt chasing this time.

For the life of him, he really couldn’t figure out what was possessing his friend to keep up with the pathetic jobs this king had been demanding. Geralt was usually so picky with what he agreed to and the clientele he kept, usually very nomadic in his style. But, as usual, when he questioned Geralt, he wasn’t granted a response—but more of a grumble of warning.

His internal monologue was abruptly halted by the wooden door of the pub slamming against the wall. Speak of the devil. Geralt looked angry, in his signature countenance. His mane was tangled and knotted with leaves and dirt; his face sporting a few bruises and minor cuts, but nothing too alarming. Nothing like the aftermath of a more frightening beast. He could assume that the rest of Geralt’s body was fine as he wasn’t displaying any pain or difficulty on his trek to the bar, but he could never be sure with all of the leather that hid his skin.

Geralt sat down heavily on the barstool and tapped the counter twice, signaling for a beer. Once the barkeep slid it to the spot right in front of him, he began chugging it.

“All of this attitude because of a ghoul?” Jaskier chided. “You’ve gone soft on us, Geralt!” The white-haired man wordlessly narrowed his eyes at the jester, only lowering his beer for a moment before continuing.

But that sour face was never enough to dissuade Jaskier before. He was determined to get to the bottom of this very un-Geralt behavior.

“So, may I ask when you’re gonna be done being the king’s little errand boy?”

“I’m not an errand boy,” Geralt growled in response. “—it’s steady coin.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely not buying that,” Jaskier could see right through the bullshit that the Witcher was so expertly feeding him, “there are monsters everywhere and people who need help ridding of them everywhere. And those people have coin as well,”.

Geralt’s silence, while annoying, was slightly exciting to Jaskier, considering it meant he’d struck some sort of chord.

Jaskier sighed. “Look, Geralt—it’s not like I’m angry that we keep going back. Just curious is all. How could I be angry when it means I can continue to behold the king’s daughter—” The bard pursed his lips, no doubt imagining some sort of filthy scenario, “—now that is one fine specimen,”.

Geralt’s head whipped around so quickly at the mention of the princess, Jaskier almost thought his neck would snap. The mountain of a man nearly had his teeth bared. “Ah-ha!” He pointed victoriously at the Witcher. “That’s why you keep going back, I knew it!” Jaskier fancied himself a sleuth at the discovery.

“Shut up,” Geralt hissed out.

“Oh, relax, buddy. Your little crush is safe with me,”. He patted the other man on the back.

“Ah, yes! He returns,” the king proclaimed as Geralt and Jaskier’s presence was announced to the throne room, where a party of sorts had nearly bored you to tears. Your head immediately perked up at the mention of the duo, your once-heavy eyelids now light as a feather. You watched as the two both walked in, one’s stride certainly commanding more respect than his counterpart.

You could feel your husband’s eyes on you, suspicious as to why you were suddenly so interested, but his gaze was soon otherwise occupied by some other dame. It wasn’t like you cared if he knew of your interest. You knew of his continuous conquests and, since you were nowhere near ready to have children, you hadn’t touched each other since the marriage was consummated. It was purely a marriage of political gain and you had no problem with that. But one thing you hated was when he suddenly got possessive if he saw your eyes wander.

The band went silent, as did most other conversations in the room at the entrance of such a well-known figure—known for his bravery and abilities. Your father congratulating him on another job well done, but you barely heard any of it, too busy staring at him; hair deliciously unkempt and face sporting light signs of a struggle. His brows were furrowed as they usually were, showing his attention to what the king was saying.

You managed to come back to reality as Geralt was agreeing to sit in on the party and ‘let loose’, as your father had put it. But everything about the man in question made you wonder if it was even possible for him to relax in such a garish setting. The bard accompanying him, however, seemed not to have a problem with it at all as he was already grabbing himself a glass of wine and introducing himself to the company. Primarily the female company.

You giggled slightly at his antics as your eyes slowly trailed back to the Witcher. You found that he was being ushered up the few stairs leading to the large table that the royals were sat at. Where you were sat. Oh, this was just perfect, the ideas floating through your mind were reminiscent of a Cheshire cat.

Due to your brother being away on military duties, the chair to your left was vacant, so he was invited by your father to take that place as the ‘guest of honor who’d been a great help to the province’.

His presence to your left was like a boulder weighing on your mind. While it was exciting, it was also cruel to sit him next to you because it was much harder to watch him discreetly that way.

You nearly flinched as you felt the weight of your husband’s hand make contact with your thigh, wordlessly declaring himself to be your controller. It wasn’t an announcement to the rest of the party, however, because they couldn’t even see it due to the long tablecloth obscuring their vision. Oh no, it was an announcement to you and the object of your desires. You clenched your jaw to keep from dismissing his overbearing gesture, masked as some sort of romantic affection that you knew to be in vain. You had no problem spitting it back in his face, but you were encouraged to keep those matters private.

Just the arrival of Geralt was enough to make any man feel inferior and you couldn’t help but feel entertained that your husband was so upset by it. So, instead of moving his hand away, you decided to turn to Geralt and start a conversation while you knew your husband’s attention was on you.

As you faced him, you could see his golden eyes overtaken with confusion, brows furrowing. “Won’t you and your companion stay at the castle tonight?” You inquired. “I can imagine it’s been a long day and we have plenty of room to spare at the castle—” you turned back to look at your husband innocently “—don’t we, darling?” Your husband was clearly not thrilled with the idea, but nodded nonetheless.

You turned back to look at the Witcher yet again, waiting for a response. “I suppose the bard and I could use a place to stay,” you almost whimpered at the sound of his voice, deep and gritty and rough.

“Perfect,” you smirked, “I’ll let my father know to have two rooms prepared,”.

As the night continued and the music quickened, your husband eventually invited you to dance and you begrudgingly agreed. He held you tightly to him, leaving no room between your two bodies as he spun you around the room and soaked in the attention that was on you both. You grew very disillusioned with all of it long ago, but his bursting ego seemed to bask in it and would probably continue to until the day he died.

You could feel a pair of eyes following you specifically throughout the seemingly endless song you’d been trapped dancing to; and you hoped more than anything that they belonged to the guest of honor. But the endless spinning made it difficult to check.

Finally the song came to a halt and you were free to return to your seat, nursing your wine until the party’s glorious end.

Once everyone had retreated to their separate quarters of the castle and you were freed from the watchful glare of your husband, you were left alone with your harrowing desires and never-ending thoughts of a certain Witcher between your thighs. You tossed and turned in bed, mindlessly rubbing your thighs together in search of any form of release. While you enjoyed the large bed you slept in, it felt so much emptier in times of want.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed something.

Leaping from your bed, you tiptoed to the door and pulled it open, careful to work slowly and avoid any creaking. You had no idea which room Geralt was given, but you were too dazed to care, simply willing to look through all of them in search.

Your feet were freezing against the marble floors and your nipples pebbled through the fabric of your nightgown; you were too desperate to remember a robe or footwear, but you couldn’t be bothered to go back for them. If things worked out according to plan, you’d be warmed up in a jiffy.

As you arrived at the first room in question, you could hear loud sexual noises on the other side of the door that sounded suspiciously like the bard and a female companion. At least, you sincerely hoped it was the bard otherwise you’d be seeking vengeance. You were excited for him while also feeling extremely jealous that you weren’t in the same…situation.

You continued your search throughout the the interwoven hallways and corridors, your lust-filled brain proving useless in your search. Your nearly automated search continued before you gasped as you felt a hand envelope your bicep, pulling you against the wall. Your back would’ve slammed against the barrier had a strong arm not wrapped around your waist and stopped any form of collision, gently placing you so that your back was resting against the cool stone walls, goosebumps arising on your skin.

Your eyes had tightly shut upon feeling the need to brace yourself, but once your eyes opened and the culprit was revealed, you’d never felt more satiated.

The amber eyes staring back into yours held a twinge of cockiness at finding you in this position—aimlessly wandering the hallways in search of him. He caged you in, an arm circling your waist as his other hand pressed against the stone beside your head; successfully trapping you as if you’d even make an attempt to flee. His hot breath lingered across the skin of your face as you both remained silent, staring at each other. His scent was a beautiful blend of smoke, leather, and eucalyptus.

He was the first to break the silence, deep voice guiding you deeper into your trance of lust. “Couldn’t wait another few moments for me to come and find you, princess?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“I was afraid that my husband’s wordless warnings may have scared you off.” You whispered back, challenging his alleged fearlessness. “And I missed having you between my legs. It’s been too long,”.

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “It’s been but a few days, your highness,” he stated.

You smirked, eyes darting down to his lips then quickly returning to his own, “my statement still stands, Witcher. It’s been too long,”.

He captured your lips in an intense kiss; one of longing and passion. While he would never say it, you knew that the time spent apart was just as unbearable to him as it was to you. His signature flavor had already become familiar to your desperate mind, looking for a semblance of him in every delicacy you’d tasted since. Soon enough, the hand pressed against the wall joined the other, wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer.

One of your own hands settled on his chest while the other found its place on the back of his neck, keeping him in place as you both explored each other. His overwhelming presence of muscles and angular ridges pressed against you so wonderfully as his thick thigh found its way between your legs. You gasped for air as your mouths separated, now staring into each other’s eyes hungrily.

“So I see the prince didn’t exactly scare you off,” you teased, a glimmer of jest in your eyes.

His own squinted in response. “I was one moment away from ripping his arms from his shoulders,” without any forewarning, his hand administered a spank to your clothed buttocks, granting a hiss from you, “because this body is all mine, princess,” he whispered as his lips now made their way down your neck. He nipped, suckled, and caressed the sensitive areas of your throat with his mouth. He tried to pull noises from you, but your nerves prevented you from indulging in any vocal pleasures.

Soon enough, he grew fed up of the quiet you were both doomed to obey in the hallways, so he grasped your thighs and pulled you to wrap your legs around his waist. He began walking you through corridors, but you paid no attention to where he was headed. You trusted that he knew where your quarters were located after the many times you’d both given into a shared midnight tryst. While you should’ve probably proceeded with immense caution, you couldn’t find a care in the world as you grasped his mane in your greedy hands, whispering a simple, “please hurry,”. And hurry, he did.

You were soon deposited back onto your own luxurious sheets, his frantic movements calculated as he stripped you of your dressing gown and left your naked at the foot of your bed, your legs hanging off the edge as you stared up at his towering person. He stared down at you, worshipping your physique with his eyes; the soft edges of your body awaiting him as your chest rose and fell with each delicate breath you allowed.

He soon knelt, his face now level with yours as he held you tight against him and continued his earlier assault on your neck. Your breaths were now emitting other varied sounds: whimpers, gasps, pleas as his hand slithered up your thigh and made contact with your clit, slowly circling the bundle of nerves, your hips bucking at the unexpected stimulation. Your back arched, chasing any form of pleasure he’d give you.

His lips broke contact with the flesh of your throat, now pulling back to watch your expression of pleasure. “Yes, Princess,” he praised, “who does this beautiful cunt belong to?” He challenged. “Is it that little prince of yours?”

“No,” you desperately begged, your body chasing any sort of liberation, “It belongs to you. My body belongs to you,”.

Your eyes were clamped shut, so you were unable to see the soft grin in response to your words. “That’s right, princess, that’s what I wanted to hear,”. Before you could even tell what was happening, he flipped your body over; your stomach now pressed against the bed as his strong hands held your hips, slowly rubbing and pinching at the skin of your ass.

“Look at this pretty little ass,” he mused, softly spanking at the skin of your left cheek. You moaned as he massaged the skin he’d previously slapped, the delectable paradox of pleasure and pain overwhelming you after a long night of vexing desire.

Without any sort of warning, he spread your ass and licked a long striped from your clit to your pert little hole, deep voice groaning the entire distance. You let out an obscene moan of surprise, never having felt a lover as committed to your pleasure as Geralt. His name left your lips in praise.

“That’s right, kitten—” the warmth of his breath invaded every inch of your heat, “let me hear all your little sounds while I devour this pretty little ass,”. He’d rarely spoken to you like this and you had a sneaking suspicion that it was a reaction to seeing your husband get so possessive with you, but no matter the reason, it had you so turned on you could barely see straight. Your fists clenched around the fabric of the sheets, trying to find any outlet for the euphoria you were feeling.

His tongue and lips made quick work of your core, slurping at the surrounding area and lightly caressing your bud. Every few movements, his tongue would reconnect with your tight ring of muscle, earning a gasp each time. He alternated between that and sucking at your bundle, finding a pattern that your body reacted best to. Your hips were grinding against the sheets mindlessly, no doubt soaking both the fabric and Geralt’s face as you rode toward your high.

The fingers on both of his hands continued to dig into the skin of you ass, pulling you closer to his mouth and dragging you to the edge with each sound of his own satisfaction that passed his lips. Without any thought, you moved one of your hands—from its place gripping the blanket— around your back to grip his hair, pulling at it as he coaxed more noises from you; just remembering that he liked a bit of roughness while he worked you over. As he felt you nearing the end, he moved both of his hands around your thighs, pressing you tight up against his face and holding you steady as you prepared to burst, the searing red feeling of orgasm washing over you. His arms holding your thighs up were the only thing keeping you from collapsing onto the bed into a heap of shaking limbs. One your ears were done ringing, you could hear the sounds of fabric hitting the ground as he no doubt rid himself of his clothes at the foot of your bed.

Quickly aware of his own release not having been met yet, you pulled yourself up on your forearms and flipped yourself over to face him. His pupils were dilated so heavily, you could almost swear that his whole iris was black, as he smirked at you with undoubtable pride. His forehead glimmered with sweat and his partial bun was disheveled, no doubt due to your pulling.

You grasped at the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss as you tasted your own juices mixed in with his musk. You pulled him forward as you crawled yourself further onto the bed, him chasing your movements and making sure your mouths didn’t part. When you could feel the pillows at the top of your bed, you motioned for him to lie back on the bed.

He stared up at your figure as you straddled his legs, his member pressed up against his belly. You gripped it with one of your hands as you sunk down, his manhood slowly entering you, the delicious stretch of his thick cock enough to overpower you as you held onto his shoulders tightly. “Fuck, princess. That’s it,”. You mewled at his approval no matter how many times you’d heard it. He sat up straighter the further you descended onto his cock, his body closing every semblance of distance.

His hands found their way to your hips, guiding your rhythm as you rode him. Golden eyes staring at you with praise and awe as he took one of your pert nipples into his mouth. His gigantic hands just kept pulling you into him, blurring the lines between where each of you started and finished, as you both indulged in this realm of pleasure together. You yanked at his hair, drawing his lips back into a searing kiss, teeth clattering and heavy breaths veiling over one another. Your hips bucked against his, both frantically chasing your bliss. Teetering over the edge together, both bodies drenched in sweat and yearning as you met the white hot feeling of completion.

Letting out the most obscene noises, your legs no longer able to hold you up as he pulled you into a laying position beside him on the bed. Both facing each other, your release slowly dwindled as you returned to your body, finding his near-glowing eyes again in the darkness.

Once you both were no longer panting, you let a small smile adorn your face, unafraid of the vulnerability after the activities you’d both shared. And, while most people might never get to see it, a small beam adorned his face as well, his arms slithering around your waist and pulling you closer.

“Let’s hope the king has at least a few more jobs for me,” he whispered into the darkness.

You giggled at his antics, gleeful that he wasn’t sick of you yet. “I’m sure he’ll find something for you to do,”.

A/N: Another Geralt fic because I couldn’t resist! I would sincerely LOVE any sort of a feedback (as I am a whore for all comments) and I hope you all like it!! Perhaps leave it a like? Maybe even a reblog? Anyways, thank you so much for reading!!!! Have a lovely day, babies!! x g

geralt tag list: @alwayshave-faith @fairytale07 @whatawildone

#geralt of rivia #Geralt #geralt of rivia smut #geralt fic #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #the witcher #the witcher x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader

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readbyred · 3 years

Text

One very important gesture - Hatcherfield favourites pt.1

This one is very specific because it’s very late when in writing this, or should I say early, and I have this scenario in mind where I take characters I like writing and have their s/o do something for then that they weren't expecting but needed; this work is unedited

Alice

“So the she (the vampire lesbian) just takes-” she passed realizing how a simple ‘how are you?’ just turned into a big monologue about her new project. Great now you’ll think she’s weird! Not giving you time to respond and just rambling like a maniac about undead murder lesbians. And if you found out she actually based the coffee shop owner’s character on you- that whole thing was am embarrassing mistake and she should have learned to shut up by now. If no one’s asking about her play then there’s literally no reason to shove it down people’s throats. That's the most pathetic thing she could do “geez, sorry for the ramble”

“No, no, please continue! I enjoy hearing you talk about things you like” smiling you look at her expectantly to continue her tale adding “i should be thankful America’s next most successful playwright is sharing her ideas with me”

Putting down her phone completely Alice looked at you wide eyed and you half expected to see those anime girl sparkle appear around her irises. She then looked away timidly smiling and putting her soft small hand atop of yours. After the pause ended she continued. Still smiling “so then she grabs the gun and[...]”

Lex

Lex cringed at her reddened face in the mirror, the aftermath of a crying session wrapped in your arm. She was scared, she felt very drained and lonely lately. But no matter what she had to keep her brave facade for Hannah.

“You alright?” you asked from your room seeing how your girlfriend only went to wash her face but was taking a very long time to come put of the bathroom.

“Why does it always go to shit like that?” sighing she fell back down of your bed “I really want her to have a better life but so far I'm doing nothing help”

“No, Lex” she expected to see pity when she turned to look you in the eyes but instead she was met with a sympathetic look “you’re doing enough and I know it's hard but I swear you are not alone in this”

As corny as it sounded it did paint a weak smile on her lips as she wrapped her hands around your torso lightly kissing your cheek

Lucy

The first date was going swell but you could tell the British woman across the table was getting distracted glancing at her phone.

“Is something wrong?” cocking your head you examined your date as her head snapped back up to look at you like a deer in headlights. She must have thought she was being sneaky with looking into her purse but she definitely was not.

“Oh! Sorry for that” avoiding the answer she sent you an apologetic smile.

“I won't press but did something happen?”

“No, not really. But if I told you, you’d just leave me here and call me crazy” she took a sip of her drink but despite her words she continued “Have you heard the ‘legend’ of the Ape Man who lives in the forests nearby?”

“So it is true that you’re looking for him” his could you not have heard the colourful stories about the creature, after all this town was where you grew up in and just like every child you too we're scared into obedience by tales of the beast that could lurk just outside your window. They didn't scare you but many of them stayed in your mind, vivid as ever.

“So you knew before you asked me out?” her eyebrows travelled almost all the way up to her hairline.

“Don’t get me wrong but those rumours were the reason I approached you in the first place...” looking away nervously you did not get the reaction you anticipated.

“Wait, really? I’m flattered, I really am” she smiled at your confusion “would you like to hear me talk about it then? I... I haven't had anyone to share my research with, in a while, and my ex-fiance wasn't very keen on the subject, you could say”

Nodding happily you took a sip of you hot chocolate listening to everything she had to say, seeing your date grow more excited as you followed along and asked questions about what she had to say

Emdroid

Walking over the bridge you stopped noticing that your partner had stopped to look over the railing. Here, some moths ago you helped her dump the bodies of her ‘human prototype’ as you called her and that man, her ex-fiance, who decided to be a bother and call off the wedding upon learning her identity.

She was the mastermind in your duo, way more confident about your crimes than you were. Yet she was still cursed with an awfully human mind and was no stranger to feeling doubt. And so as soon as you noticed her brown and blue eyes gazing into the black unforgiving mass of water underneath you knew what she was thinking.

“You know that we did the right thing, right?” approaching you put down your one hand next to hers on the railing and wrapped the other one around her, giving her sort of a light side-hug “she didn't use her life, you did a lot more than she could ever accomplish. You deserve happiness too”

Squeezing her shoulder lightly you felt her head lean on your (shoulder/head) as her small hand landed atop of yours. It was Sunday evening and it felt eru good news is t to rush and just stand there, with her, thinking.

Bonus for Starr that she gave me the idea for (I literally wrote nothing on my own here so all credit to @stopgettingonmynerves )

Ethan

After sneaking into the drive-in theatre at the outskirts of Hatchetfield, one of your personal favourite places in this small boring town, you took your favourite spot waiting for the film to start. You were really excited when you heard they would be playing “the rope” as you enjoyed revisiting it every chance you got. Sort of a weird comfort movie but your boyfriend didn't seem to mind. You felt a bit guilty actually with how much you mentioned it because ever since them Ethan went beyond himself to get some money and get you there legally. But it didn't work out and he had to resort to your usual plan. He wasn't very wealthy to say the least but it was never something that mattered to you. Yet it clearly embarrassed him, it was clear in the way his expression always changed to shameful when you two did something like that. It seemed that he (falsely of course) believed that if he didn't treat you to all those things you’d think less of him.

Finally, you couldn't bare to look at how he did all this and how he made himself feel about not doing more and when you cuddled into him, still waiting for the movie to start you leaned in and said to him quietly “You really don't gave to do this, you know? I know you don't like to sneak in every time and lie your way out of trouble. So please don't. You are worth much more than what you give and you don't have to ‘buy’ yourself space to exist in this relationship... please”

You weren't met with any verbal response but you felt him grip you tighter and rest his chin on your (head/shoulder).

Henry

“What is it?” you practically forced your way into his house frantically. When in the middle of the night your partner called you that there's been an emergency you rushed to get to him. But there he stood, fine as ever.

“I just had a revelation dear!” he said but it didn't go unnoticed that he had snuck around you and as he took your coat he was most likely trying to lock the door “come in and take a sit next to Alexa! How moronic of me not to think about this solution! So, it's about the ‘workin‘ boys’ I-”

“Henry” you stopped his rambling “is that why you called me to get here?”

To your surprise the man scoffed as if the answer was obvious.

“How else was I supposed to get you to come?” now it was your time to look at him baffled. You were extremely worried that he was hurt and for what?

“You could have just told me you wanted to talk, I would gladly listen to you” you explained making him freeze like a deer in the headlights.

“That's absurd!” the man objected “It never works! If I didn't use half truths i would never get an audience”

“Look, I'm not Emma or Ted” you responded taking a deep sigh “I'm with you now and I’ll gladly listen to what you have to say. Just... No weird lies and schemes from now on, alright?”

A genuine smile stretched his lips as he led you to his cozy kitchen “you certainly are a peculiar companion, I must say. But truly, the best one I could ask for. So! As I was saying [...]”

#starkid #tgwdlm #tgwdlm x reader #black friday x reader #tgwdlm preference #emdroid #black friday lex #ethan green #henry hidgens #lucy nightmare time #alice woodward #tgwdlm alice #x reader #preference

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class1akids · 3 years

Note

I was just reading up on your Endeavor Meta’s, which are amazing by the way like all your meta’s. And I was thinking he still hasn’t really had a heartfelt moment with Shouto. Like he told Shouto to watch him, and that he will work to be the father and #1 hero Shouto deserves but that was really not like the heartfelt moment he had with Natsuo. He still needs to give Shouto an apology and maybe even help Shouto finally confront the fact that he was abused like his mother was.

Yeah. That discussion couldn’t really happen, because Shouto pretty much shut down any personal discussions between them and Endeavor is trying to respect that. Even in the battle-field - near life-death, Shouto has maintained this professionalism only addressing him as Endeavor, and it only cracked now after Touya dragged them squarely into the middle of a family drama.

There is quite a lot of build-up to the question of whether Shouto forgives or not, from the start of the Stain arc, when he says, he hasn’t forgiven Endeavor and probably never will, to the Pro Hero arc, where he says that he will be watching, to the Endeavor Internship arc where at least Deku feels like Shouto getting close to forgiving.

And of course, he was watching Endeavor interact with Natsuo, and his reactions were obviously important, but it’s still hidden what he was thinking (just like Bakugou’s thoughts were hidden - but we are now getting in flashbacks as well as in the present storytelling what was going on with him).

I hope we will get further insight into Shouto too - so far we didn’t get any internal monologue on how he’s processing - but also probably he’s too much in shock, and had no time to process. I’m expecting either a flashback or some sort of personal interaction between him and Endeavor, at the climax of this arc or in the aftermath.

Obviously, now the Touya reveal will throw more complexity into whatever progress they had, probably even a setback, and if Shouto came close to forgiving, it may not happen now.

But I think you are right that Endeavor owes Shouto a direct apology for taking away his childhood, his mom, his relationship with his siblings and of course, all the violence. Also, now he’s burdened as a young hero with all of Endeavor’s toxic legacy - which makes Shouto’s path to being a hero on his own right who people see and feel relieved a very steep uphill climb.

I think maybe the apology he owes to Shouto is the other side of the one he owes to Touya - as out of the siblings, they are the ones who were most burdened by Endeavor’s ambition. So it may happen at the same time.

This is why I don’t want Endeavor to fight Touya to protect Shouto - because it would just perpetrate that favoritism message.

I think that as a father, what he really owes them is to acknowledge the hurt he caused both of them and tell them that they are equally important.

Then if forgiveness is ever on the card and if Endeavor survives this arc - I think it will be in the last arc.

#bnha speculation #endeavor #todoroki shouto #todoroki enji #keeping up with the todorokis #bnha manga spoilers

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pawprintsmoon · 3 years

Text

Henry has no clue; The Aftermath

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31306808/chapters/77401784

Once Alex leans into the kiss, the prince is royally screwed. An immense energy encompasses them, and he loses his breath along with all his remaining sensibilities. He pulls Alex’s hair, eliciting the sweetest, smallest sound. If he doesn’t stop right now, he won’t be able to stop at all.

“Fuck,” Henry swears, pulling back. Apparently, he still has an ounce of sense after all, or at least an ounce of self-preservation. “I’m just, shit. I’m sorry.”

Snow crunches beneath his stumbling feet as he practically runs away from the freshly snogged boy. The boy who must be having a total identity crisis. Even drunk, he could taste Alex’s confused wanting and a yearning that might even match his own. Impossible. The type of impossible that makes you question your interpretation of reality.

The humid heat and festive noises of the Gala overwhelm him as he re-enters the White House. He is sweating under his wool coat and his collar is too tight around his throat. The champagne in his system is tilting the floor, and it’s too much. Where the fuck is Pez?

Eventually, he finds his best friend between June and Nora, all dancing scandalously close to each other. It’s a testament to Pez’s loyalty that as soon as he looks at Henry, he exits the dancefloor, bowing to the ladies.

“What did you do?” Pez asks, leaning close to talk over the music.

“The most foolish thing possible.” He grabs Pez’s arm. “We have to go.”

After a beat, Pez nods. “Okay, let’s go.”

They walk through the party together, Pez’s presence keeping him from unravelling completely. It’s unlikely that Henry is effectively hiding his emotions, what with the drinking and kissing and panicking. Hopefully everyone around them is too intoxicated to notice.

“So, are we just getting some air or are we calling it a night?” Pez asks as they meet their PPOs at the front door. “Should I call a car to take us to the hotel?”

“No.” He imagines Alex showing up at their hotel the next morning, hungover and demanding answers. “No, we’re going home.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.” Henry’s throat is dry and his eyes are unforgivably wet. “Please.”

Pez stares at him, presumably assessing the severity of the situation, before nodding again.

“Okay, I’ll call a car to take us to the airport,” Pez says, pulling out his phone. “And as soon as we board the plane you are telling me everything.”

Within ten minutes, Shaun arrives with their luggage, a shiny black car, and three burly PPOs. Within two hours they are flying over the Atlantic Ocean, Henry pacing up and down the aisle of their private jet while Pez sips champagne.

"What the hell, Hen?" Pez says at last. Henry had been monologuing his panic spirals since they’d boarded the plane and is finally taking a breath.

"It just kind of happened?" Henry replies. He had fucked up, real bad this time.

"Well, to be completely honest with you, that was too fucking awesome!".

"You mean I did the right thing?" Henry asks, disbelief coloring his face. He isn’t sure if he’s asking approval of his choice to kiss Alex or his choice to run away afterwards.

"I don't know, Hen,” Pez says in an apologetic tone. “All I know about Alexander Claremont-Diaz is that you’re obsessed with him. This was bound to happen eventually, right?"

Henry has no clue how to answer, so he sighs and starts his pacing again. He knows he isn't going to sleep tonight, maybe not ever if he has a say in it. Alex might murder him in his sleep, even if he is protected by PPOs all the bloody time. He makes a mental note to ask Shaan to keep an eye out for Alex and his transatlantic flights.

…

"So yeah that happened." Henry finishes telling last night's events to his therapist who sports an impassive expression.

"Henry, why are you so afraid of Alex's reaction? For all you know he might feel the same way," Shannon says. The sincerity and calm in her voice almost soothes his racing heart.

"Because I do know he feels the same way, but he wasn't ready to know that. His obliviousness was the only thing saving us from falling together; the only thing stopping me from losing control. But then I lost control anyways because he’s just so bloody dense! It’s torture. Hell, both Nora and June have caught on. He’s going to be the last person to figure out he is queer! And I don’t, well, I shouldn’t have pushed it. Rash and careless.” Henry is rambling, but isn’t that the point of therapy? “Sometimes I think I reread Jane Austin too much, because I can’t help pining. Fantasizing. I thought, sure, he’ll see our mutual attraction eventually, and I can wait, and generally, or I can resist making idiotic choices I like to think I’m patient, but-"

He stops speaking abruptly and looks away from her sharp gaze. Even after so many years of therapy, it's still hard for him to talk about his feelings.

"But what Henry?" Shannon gently prods him.

"But I was...I got jealous when I saw them kissing and I just couldn't wait any longer for him to be ready. I know it was not fair, but I’ve known for years now.” He sighs. “I was actually just waiting for Pez to have his fun so we could leave. But...but Alex- he came outside looking for me and he was infuriating and couldn’t take a hint. I just couldn't stop myself. God, I'm such an idiot."

"Henry, we have talked about this before. Not everything is your fault. You need to understand that.” She pauses as if to give him an opportunity to agree with her. When he doesn’t, she continues, “And you told me Alex kissed you back so how can you be sure that he doesn't know that he’s queer?"

"Because I know Alex. I’m his best friend, we’ve talked for hours on end and he’s an obliviously stupid prat and I'm in love with him!" Henry snaps, but Shannon already has an answer ready for that.

"Yes Henry, but it doesn't mean that it was a mistake. You may be in love, but that doesn’t mean you know everything about him and his relationship with his sexuality. You aren’t a mind reader. Maybe he’s just playing dumb, and it’s a farce just like yours. The difference is you appear heterosexual while he appears to be oblivious. You can't know for sure."

That gives Henry something to think about, and he goes quiet for several moments.

Could it be that Alex acting so oblivious was just for the public? But that couldn't be. He knows Alex, knows him, knows him. Not only from the months of constant texting and late-night phone calls but also from countless tabloids and magazines. It didn’t feel like Alex was hiding anything from him. But who knows? Maybe he did it so that he could be himself but still not be himself. Maybe, he could enjoy the queerness but pretend not to know in order to save his political career?

No, that is not the Alexander Gabriel Claremont Diaz, he has come to know. He would be out and proud if he knew. Henry suddenly registers the fact that he is overthinking again when Shannon calls his name.

"Yes, Shannon?" Henry asks politely. Apparently she’d been speaking, but he has no idea what she was saying.

“You can tell me what you’re thinking, you know. That’s literally my job.” She smiles wryly and he grants her a weak laugh. “I was just saying that you can’t possibly try to know what he’s thinking about the kiss, or where he is with his sexuality.”

“Exactly! That’s the other thing.” Henry shakes his head. “Maybe I’ve been wrong this whole time. I thought I knew what he wanted, and that I knew what I wanted, but now I don’t know anything. Maybe Alex is just a very flirty guy. Maybe it’s just an American thing. I haven’t been friends with an American before-”

“Henry”

“- and he was drunk and I kissed him and he probably thinks I took advantage. At the very least, I ran away like a scared twelve-year-old.”

“Let’s try to take a non-judgemental stance here,” suggests Shannon gently. “And for now, let’s just imagine a hypothetical. What if you were right all along, and he really does like you? That’s very much possible, so let’s explore what that would mean, yeah?

Henry shrugs noncommittally.

“You mentioned a couple of weeks ago that you think that if you two get too close you’ll be doomed,” she continues. “Do you still think that?”

“Well, yeah,” replies Henry, looking at his hands. “If he likes me -which I’m not sure he does anymore- then inevitably he’ll get sick of me. I like him so, so much, you know? He might be attracted to me, but he can’t possibly like me the way I like him. And even if by some horrible miracle he does like me back, then what? I’m a bloody prince and he’s an aspiring politician, and there’s no way it wouldn’t end in disaster. The whole world would be looking at us. I’m just… I’m…”

“You’re afraid of getting hurt.”

“I… I guess. Yeah. I feel like I’m about to fall off a cliff, holding onto the unstable rocks, and I have no idea where I’ll land.” Henry chuckled a little at his cliche metaphor. “He must think I’m a complete tosser.”

“Henry,” she gives him that Therapist Look. “You can’t read minds. Journal on that topic this week?”

Henry sighs and nods, letting that sink in. She has said it before, numerous times, and Henry never quite believes her.

They sit in silence before Shannon redirects the conversation.

"When are you meeting Alex again?"

That's an easy question, Henry has known the answer ever since he left D.C. He answers immediately, "Oh never."

"Henry," Shannon reprimands.

"No, you don't get it. I'm going to be murdered if I so much as go within 10 feet near Alex."

"No.” She’s holding back a laugh as she tries to look stern. “The answer is that you're going to the state dinner and you're going to talk to Alex like a mature adult and listen to what he says instead of guessing what he’s thinking. Meanwhile, I want you to think about what we discussed today and tell me next week what you might want to say to him."

"Hour's up then?" Henry asks, because he suddenly can't wait to get out of Shannon’s office. He needs time to think about everything. Or maybe he needs time to avoid thinking about anything.

"We have five more minutes, but if you don't have anything to add today, we can end early." Shannon smiles warmly at him and he knows that if he wishes to continue she wouldn’t mind, but right now he can't. Enough talking of emotions for one eternity, thank you.

So he leaves and as he hurries to the car he texts Shaan: SOS I need about a million boxes of Jaffa Cakes from the nearest corner shop.

Then, sliding into the back seat: Please.

…

The weeks pass by quickly with Henry trying his best to ignore Alex's texts and trying to convince everyone that he oughtn’t to go to the state dinner in D.C. No one listens to him, not Shannon or even Pez. Not even his own sister, rather Bea tries to make him see reason as to why he should go.

It's all 'you never know,’ 'just trust me, Hen' and other bits of vague encouragement. Predictably, Bea decides to drop Henry off at the airport herself so he can't escape at the last minute. When he accuses her of this, however, she’s all 'Can’t a girl escort her dear younger brother to the airport, or what?’

As they leave Kensington palace she explicitly instructs his PPOs that Henry should at all costs stay in America for the allotted time and should not be allowed back even a minute too soon. Shaan, for some reason, seems extremely happy to hear those instructions and can't stop smiling. Henry scowls at him whenever he sees him, thinking that he is Henry's personal equerry. It’s a lot.

"Do I really have to, Bea?" he asks her as they near the airport.

"Henry, you know this is important and by that, I do not mean the state dinner. That can go fuck itself for all I care, but you need to talk to Alex. Hiding from him like this is doing no one any good. Talk to him, see what he says and do not overthink this, Hen please." Bea squeezes his hand lightly as the car stops.

They walk silently side by side to the plane where Bea hugs him and sees him off.

As the plane starts to take off, the panic that had been sedated by her hug starts to grow again, fiercer than ever. Henry keeps repeating the same phrase throughout the flight.

Don't overthink this. It's going to be okay.

#Henry has no clue #The Whole Bloody Time #Henry Knew sequel #The Aftermath #pawprints.on.the.moon #slytherinnbitch #first prince #rwrb #fanfic #henry pov fanfiction #ao3 update #read on ao3 #rwrb ao3 feed

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big-oof-bi-goof · 4 years

Text

So there’s this meme going around with TMA fans, the whole “hello Jon” thing, but it kind of disappoints me. We, as a fandom, are capable of more. We can do better than this. We just need to Hello Jon. Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.

I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen.

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

Statement begins.

I hope you’ll forgive me the self-indulgence, but I have worked so very hard for this moment, a culmination of two centuries of work. It’s rare that you get the chance to monologue through another, and you can’t tell me you’re not curious.

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my god. The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear.

It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, Jon, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.

I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.

Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When Smirke first gathered our little band – Lukas, Scott, and the rest – to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of the things he had learned from Rayner, I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear.

But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. Smirke was so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of our patrons.

I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world.

At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race.

Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror?

I convinced Smirke to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked.

It. Took. Years, for the dread of the prisoners to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man before I made my first attempt at the Watcher’s Crown, sat in the center of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet.

It was… flawed, of course, as all Smirke’s rituals were, and none of the inmates survived as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was built consumed it.

But it left me a gift: For sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to.

It was a dizzying power, and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organization I had founded to assist in my research down to London, and the Institute as you know it was born.

I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own.

Surely my interpretation of the Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.

It was not until I met Gertrude Robinson that things began to really come into focus.

You see, the role of Archivist has been part of the Beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn’t uncommon for the Powers; most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings.

But Gertrude was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about compiling experiences or collecting the fears of others. She was driven to stop those who served the Powers.

More than once I thought she must secretly be of the Hunt – but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times.

I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the Desolation had killed her cat.

I don’t know if she was joking, and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.

In any case, Gertrude’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years: In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded?

Perhaps there were a long line of Gertrude Robinsons throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed?

She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People’s Church.

When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realized she was putting into practice a theory, and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain as mine had all hose years ago.

Knowing Gertrude, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated – but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realized what had to be done.

You see, the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the fear of hunted prey? When does the mask of the Stranger become the deception of the Spiral?

Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as up relies on down.

To try and create a world with only the Buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only down.

Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself impossible. They could bring their patron close, but never sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back into the place next to reality where they dwell.

The solution, then, is simple: A new ritual must be devised which will bring through all the Powers at once. All fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new powers such as Extinction were able to fully emerge. All under the Eye’s auspices, of course. We mustn’t forget our roots.

And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to Gertrude’s ill-timed retirement plans.

Because the thing about the Archivist is that – well, it’s a bit of a misnomer.

It might, perhaps, be better named: The Archive.

Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, Jon. You are a record of fear, both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you.

You are a living chronicle of terror.

Perhaps, then, if I could find an Archivist and have each Power mark them, have them confront each one and each in turn instill in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this – nightmare kingdom.

Do you see where I’m going, Jon?

It does tickle me, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.

I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but My God, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was.

Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked – So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during Gertrude’s tenure, and, while she was always prepared, I made sure you would not be.

I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So, when Jane Prentiss attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start.

You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how far you would get, though I waited until the worms were in you before I pulled the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.

The discovery that one of the Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that vague wrongness you couldn’t quite place wouldn’t count as a mark, it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct and affecting matter.

Admittedly, given the advent of the Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered. But what’s the old saying about hindsight?

More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with the Distortion. If it had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path.

So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement.

Poor Helen. I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost in those narrow London side streets.

It worked, though.

Between the stabbing and at least two desperate flights into its doors – you’re marked very deeply by the Spiral.

Jurgen Leitner was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to improvise. I had no idea how much Gertrude would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast.

I… justified it to myself saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway, if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.

Still. I’d requested Detective Tonner be assigned to the case when they found Gertrude’s body in the hope that having a Hunter in the mix would eventually lead to a confrontation, and setting you up as a killer certainly hastened that.

Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a few Avatars I thought were likely to harm you – but probably would stop short of actually killing you.

Jude served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr Crew, marking you for the Desolation and the Vast.

Honestly, I had – nothing to do with Melanie and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here, so when her rage bubbled over you would be right there, a ready target.

I didn’t foresee the mark coming from surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

The Unknowing was a distraction, but not an unwelcome one. For this to work, you needed more than just the marks; you needed power. And that was something the Unknowing served to test, though it posed no actual danger in the grand scheme of things.

And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront death, a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die. Too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why.

As it was, it was just right, and once again, you came through with flying colors.

By this point, your abilities were coming along in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you Knowing something you shouldn’t.

I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal.

All that remained, then, were the Dark, the Flesh, the Buried, and the Lonely.

I was a little put out when that idiot Jared Hopworth misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then – Ho, you should have see my face when you voluntarily went to him.

I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.

I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting.

Honestly, Detective Tonner has been proving invaluable through this process. I’d been racking my brains for months about what I could use to lure you in.

And, of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting. So when it came time, I just whipped up another apocalypse and sent you on your merry way.

Then all that remained was the Lonely.

Poor Peter. He really should have left well enough alone. Or just done what I’d asked in the first place.

Ah well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about Martin.

Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.

How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.

And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience.

You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here.

Don’t worry, Jon. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made.

Now. Repeat after me.

You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.

Come to us in your wholeness.

Come to us in your perfection.

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and leads and dies!

Come to us.

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!

#tma #the magnus archives #jonah magnus

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actuallybarb · 3 years

Text

The Aftermath ~ Part 10

Summary: y/n almost murders someone but jake peralta talks her out of it

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, trauma, the end is nigh

Word Count: 2095

A/N: it’s almost done.

//////////

Wong dropped Peter and I off on the roof of my apartment. “Stay safe.” Then he was gone, and we were alone. Well, alone until the calvary could get there. The Avengers were working with the FBI and the Nine-Nine for a perimeter, but I didn’t really think it would matter. This person was clearly determined to get to me, they wouldn’t let a police perimeter get in the way.

“Who do you think it is?” Peter asked quietly, his eyes on the sky. He was decked out in his Spider-Man suit, his first appearance since his name was cleared, and I could feel his leg bouncing with joy. Sam mentioned a suit at some point for me, but we were a bit preoccupied to actually get around to it. I had to make do with my Vans and the comm in my ear.

I kept my eyes on the ground. My apartment building wasn’t exceedingly tall, but it gave me a fairly good vantage point for the happenings of New York City. “Someone from Beck’s crew. I did kind of ruin their lives, someone is bound to be pissed as hell.”

“I didn’t even — do you feel that?”

It started out subtle. Barely a flinch. But then the ground started to shake harder and harder. And then I saw the cause.

Sand. Tons of it. Rolling in from the coast.

And straight toward a person.

The sand piled around him and he just kept getting bigger and bigger until a giant sand man was standing in the middle of Fourth Street.

And all I could think of was Mr. Sandman by The Chordettes.

“Y/N Y/L/N!” he (It? Do we even worry about proper pronouns?) shouted. Peter flinched at how loud his voice was, but that was the least of my concerns. “It is time for you to meet your doom!”

“Good!” I shouted back. “Make it quick, I hear they have unlimited mimosas in heaven!”

Maybe (definitely) my self-preservation skills were skewed, but I couldn’t miss the opportunity. And the longer I had him monologuing, the longer he didn’t kill people.

“You made me become this,” he shouted again, “and now you will pay the price!”

Then he slammed his sand-fist as close to me and Peter as he could reach.

“At least he just got right to the point,” I mumbled. I looked at Peter. “I’m really hoping him being this big makes him slower. I’ll see if I can do something about the sand.”

“I’ll try and web him up, see if we can topple him over.”

“Great.” Peter swung away and I lifted myself between buildings, trying to get close enough without being in hitting distance.

Sand is trickier than rocks because the particles are loose. But if I could compress them, or maybe add some water...

Fuck it, let’s just do it.

I got closer (my first mistake) until I could feel the sand particles whirling around me. I latched onto a few (my second mistake) and tried to pull them away from the Sand Man (my third mistake).

Why are these mistakes, Y/N, this sounds like a foolproof plan.

Well, you see, I thought I was pulling the sand away from the body.

Nope.

I was pulling the Sand Man toward me.

And I realized it a second too late.

His hand swiped me off the roof and sent me crashing into the ground below. “You won’t fool me so easily, Y/N. You’re going to pay for what you did.” I brushed the gravel off my palms and groaned as I stood up, my ribs on fire. Before I could get my bearings, though, sand started to swirl around me and lifted me into the sky. Sand Man tossed me around like a rag doll, trying to give me whiplash, before he threw me up in the air and let me fall, no support.

He wasn’t expecting Peter, though.

“I gotcha,” his voice rang in my ear. We landed a couple blocks away and his hands immediately reached for my shoulders. “Are you okay, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I snapped probably a bit too harshly. “Look, if we’re going to be successful at all with this thing, just assume I’m okay, okay? Thanks for catching me.” I leaned forward and kissed him right on his jaw, mask and all, then I ran back into the center of the street.

“You want a piece of me?” I shouted at him (I’ve decided on ‘him’). “Come and get me.”

Then I pulled a Bolin and made the street split with lava.

Peter stayed up top and tried to tie up the Sand Man, but I pushed the lava forward, underneath his feet. I was hoping it would start to melt the sand, but he just compressed the particles and held his ground.

“It’s like he is the sand,” Peter’s voice echoed in my ear.

He is the sand.

“I have an idea! I could really use some back up.”

“What’s up?” Peter, Sam, and Wanda met me on the ground.

“Distract him. Get as many bits of sand away from him as possible. Not enough to notice, but enough to start shaking him down. Got it?”

They nodded. “You’re the boss, Y/N,” Sam said with a wink, then he flew up in the sky.

I stayed low, but close. And I let my senses take over.

This guy, he was literally the sand. The more sand, the bigger he got. So, take away the sand, and he’ll get smaller. I just had to keep the sand away.

I was chucking rocks and balls of fire and gusts of air at the Sand Man, but that was all on autopilot. The main part of my brain was focusing on the sand that fell, and making sure to blow it far enough away to stop him from getting it back so quickly.

And it started to work. Slowly but surely, Sand Man was getting smaller, and he didn’t notice.

But he would eventually, and I needed a plan for that.

Sand castles stick together better when the sand is damp, that’s just how they work. But when sand is too wet, it falls apart.

No sand, no man.

“When you guys see the big wave coming in, get the hell out of here, got it?”

“Y/N, what are you planning?”

“It’s kind of a long shot, but just let me try it. Keep the sand away until the last second, okay?”

I walked out into the middle of the road and reached for the water. There were thousands of gallons rushing beneath me, but those were too damaging to New York City, and it’s been through enough. I reached further and further until I felt the salt of the ocean and I let it take over my senses. There was a huge tug in my gut and the sound of the waves rushed over my ears.

I looked at the Sand Man, the guy responsible for my parents’ disappearance, the guy who had made my life a living hell the past week, and I screamed.

A huge maverick of a wave came through New York City and crashed on the Sand Man. Wanda, Peter, and Sam got out of the way just in time.

The Sand Man toppled over and lost even more sand, but he started to get back up.

“Hell no.” My hand formed a fist and I felt the water following my movements. The huge water fist came up and landed one huge uppercut to his jaw and sent him down all over again. Then I made my own hurricane with him in the middle of it. More and more sand was lost in the water, and once he was down to size...

I dropped him.

But he didn’t have Peter to catch him.

He slammed against the asphalt and finally dissipated into a normal-sized man, even if he was still made out of sand. I unclenched my fists and the water made its way back to the ocean, taking a few park benches and a hot dog stand with it.

I stood over him and shouted, “Who the hell are you?” hoping he would open his eyes at my unrelenting fury. This jackass had my parents, I wasn’t going to show mercy.

And he had the audacity to laugh. “You’ll never find them, Y/N. Over my dead body.”

My hands flickered with lightning. “That can be arranged.”

“No killing, Y/N,” a new voice rang out in my ear.

“Jake? You’re on comms?”

“I know, cool, right? I’m talking directly into Spider-Man’s ear. Whatever, anyway, no killing, we still need information from him.”

I glared at the Sand Man and he just blinked lazily at me. “What’s your name?”

“Like I said, over my—“ I zapped him once, just a little spark, but his body (can we even call it that? it’s literally sand) shuddered. “Bitch.”

“That’s not very nice.” Peter landed softly beside me and glared at him too, his mask eyes narrowed. “If anyone’s a bitch, here, it’s definitely you.” Sam and Wanda joined us on the ground, and eventually the 99 joined us too, Jake at the front.

“Y/N that was awesome! The way you got the huge wave to come through and then you made a hurricane and ohmygoditsspiderman.” Jake couldn’t help but start blushing, just a little bit. “Can — can I have your autograph?”

Peter glanced at me, a smirk on my face, before responding, “Uh, yeah, sure, ‘course. You got a pen and paper?”

“How are we supposed to cuff this guy?” Diaz asked, looking at the Sand Man. “Last I checked sand isn’t the most stable.”

We all just kind of looked at each other for a second before I stepped forward and grabbed Sand Man’s wrists. My concentration was kind of shot, but I had enough left to focus all of my energy into my hands, heating them to a temperature well above comfortable. Slowly, glass started to form from the melted sand, and I slammed his wrists together, bonding them. “You’re not going anywhere any time soon.”

“That seems like cruel and unusual punishment.”

“Tell me where my parents are and maybe I’ll let you out.”

He just grinned and followed the detectives into the squad car, where Detective Diaz may or may not have smashed some sand in the door.

I turned to Peter and wrapped my arm around his waist. “Can we go?”

“I don’t see why not.” His grip tightened around me and we swung out of the wreckage. I completely wrapped my legs around his hips and latched my other arm around his shoulders, but I kept my eyes wide open.

I could get used to this.

I recognized the apartment building we landed on — I’d visited Peter up here plenty of times to remember the small dying plant in the corner of the roof and the twinkle lights that ran out of battery a long time ago. “C’mon,” Peter said as he started for the fire escape, “let’s get cleaned up.”

May washed my jeans while I showered and I airbended them dry, but my shirt was torn to pieces. Peter left out his old band t-shirt, but I could barely get it on. My rib cage was already starting to splotch with blue and purple bruises, and with my adrenaline wearing off, I felt every hit I took today. After a few grunts a multiple hisses of pain I looked over at my jeans then back down at my legs and had one definitive thought: “there’s no way in hell I’m putting those back on.”

I stuck my head out the bathroom door and whispered, “Pst, Peter.”

His own head popped out of his bedroom door. “What?”

“Can I steal some sweats?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” His head disappeared and reappeared a second later. “Here.”

“Thanks.” A couple more grunts later and I was completely dressed in Peter Parker’s wardrobe (no complaints there). I walked back into his room and he was laying on his bed, Gilmore Girls playing on his laptop. “I got you hooked, didn’t I?”

“I just want Luke and Lorelai to end up together, is that too much to ask?”

I snickered. “No.” I laid down beside him and, ignoring the painful protests my ribs screamed at me, I curled into his side. We got ten minutes into an episode before I whispered, “Do you really think we’ll find them?”

“Yeah, I really do.”

His heart was steady.

tags: @eridanuswave @vampirestrawberries @yougottalovefandoms

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman far from home #marvel #mcu #marvel comics #peter parker imagine #peter parker series #peter parker oneshot #avengers #peter parker x mj #ned leeds #michelle jones #flash thompson #reader insert

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les-mooserables · 3 years

Text

Hello, John

[AS SOON AS HE BEGINS SPEAKING, A WHIZZING STATIC KICKS IN FROM THE BACKGROUND.]

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.

I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. (slightly strained) I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen.

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

[THE ARCHIVIST MAKES A PAINED COUPLE OF SOUNDS OUT-OF-STATEMENT-CHARACTER, AS IF HE’S TRYING TO TEAR HIMSELF AWAY FROM THE STATEMENT AND PHYSICALLY CANNOT.][WHEN HE PICKS THE STATEMENT BACK UP, THE WORDS SOUND LIKE THEY’RE BEING TORN FROM HIS LIPS.]ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

Statement begins.

[A SLAP ON THE TABLE – OR A CRACK? SPOOKY.]

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, John, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.