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brain-rot-central · 3 months

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Home

Rating: E, but a soft E Pairing: Spawn!A/Fem!Tav CW: 18+, dry humping, breeding kink, non-penetrative sex, trauma mention, intimacy issues, soft Astarion (emotionally, not physically), possessive Astarion, verbalized consent Word count: 1.9k Summary: Astarion and Tav have resumed being intimate, though sometimes, Astarion can't quite commit to the full act. Not to worry, there are still other activities to enjoy!

They barely make it up the stairs of the Elfsong Tavern and back into their rented suite.

Articles of clothing come peeling off in a flash as soon as the door clicks shut behind them. With the elf’s deft hands, the lock is sealed, now steering the couple back toward the bed.

His human partner’s knees bump against the edge of the bed, and both bodies are suddenly toppling over onto the sea of silken sheets adorning the mattress below.

The human’s legs instinctively bend at the knee as the elf slots himself between them, grinding himself down into her warm, inviting center. He lowers his head, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that speaks to the depths of his lust.

Teasing his tongue into her mouth, his rutting grows more heated and desperate. The woman moans softly against his mouth, inviting his tongue to a dance as hands find purchase in the silver curls atop his head.

Bare from the waist up, they continue grinding, the human hooking her ankles around the small of the man's back for leverage. He groans in response to the added friction, cock now straining against the front of his pants.

Physical intimacy is still something they’re easing back into, though tonight it’s taken a leap into new territory.

The elf breaks the kiss as he pushes himself up onto his hands, saying, “Scoot a bit higher, Tav, darling. I need more leverage for what I have planned for us.”

A shiver runs across Tav’s body, and she nods her head in agreement. She unlocks her ankles from around his hips and drags herself back until she’s in the center of the bed.

He follows close behind, bringing himself up onto his knees between her splayed thighs. His arms wrap around the underside of her thighs.

Tav moans again as he sinks his fingertips into the clothed flesh, pulling her roughly against his crotch. She can feel the evidence of his desire with every roll of his hips into her center, a familiar heat and pulling sensation filling her abdomen with every press of his clothed length against her.

“These need to come off,” the elf growls out, and within seconds his fingers hook into the waistband of her trousers. Pulling them down her wide hips and off her legs, he throws them across the room to join the pile of previously discarded clothing, promptly returning to his place between her legs.

She’s left in just her underwear, bearing a deep wet spot at its center on full display. A rich, ruby blush sits high across her face as she watches her partner survey her clothed sex. She feels exposed like this, and yet, incredibly fulfilled. She knows the effect her body is having on him, as well.

The pale elf growls in anticipation above her as his hands make quick work of undoing the laces of his own leathers. He slips a hand down the front of his pants, a soft sigh escaping his lips, eyes rolling closed for a brief moment as his hand wraps around his erection. He adjusts his length, now laying up against his abdomen, and groans as he unwillingly peels his hand away.

Tav’s eyes fall upon the bulge now straining against the undone laces of his pants. A small dark spot can be seen on his underclothes, where the head of his cock lay hidden.

“Can I touch you, Astarion?” she asks, shyly. Her hands begin to trace the outline of his biceps, gently stroking his skin with the tips of her fingers.

Astarion hums, the ghost of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips before replying, “Oh? Where exactly do you have in mind?”

Tav meets his gaze, eyes traveling between his and the spot between his legs, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

The elf huffs, sitting up on his knees. He narrows his eyes, looking at her from under his lashes. “Cheeky pup,” he purrs, “at least offer some assistance first.”

Her cheeks burn at his bold invitation and she rises from her position on the bed, placing one finger on his sculpted chest.

Astarion's eyes look to the single digit pressed into the center of his chest, rising and falling with the uptick of his breathing. He allows Tav to begin pushing him back to the edge of the bed. He stands up off the bed, his crotch now at level with her hands.

Tav hooks her fingers into the hem of his leathers, tugging them down his toned thighs until they pool on the floor around his ankles. Astarion kicks them briskly to the side to join the other articles of clothing littered about the room.

“Are you okay?” she asks. She knows the challenge that physical intimacy imposes on him. She wants reassurance that he’s still comfortable, still willing to continue.

“Quite,” he replies, voice husky, watching her finger trail down toward his underwear. His undergarments do little to conceal the outline of his cock, her finger settling on the small wet patch gathering right at the tip of him. Laying her palm against his clothed shaft, he sucks in a sharp breath as she squeezes him gently.

With genuine concern, Tav inquires, “How far can we go?”

Hips twitching into her touch, he answers, “T-this. This is, aahh, good.”

She smiles before asking, “Can I ride you?”

Entire body seizing under her touch, he moans, loud and uncaring as to who might hear. “Fuck, darling,” Astarion huffs out, hips bucking involuntarily. “There is nothing I'd like more.��

Tav’s gives him a few more pumps along his length. “You should lay down, then,” she states.

He nods, cautiously climbing onto the bed. She gives him space to make himself comfortable, which doesn't fall unnoticed.

Suddenly, he feels small, anxious - his stomach churns as she climbs over his hips to settle herself in his lap. He's slept with countless others in the past, including her. Why feel this way now?

Because this is Tav, Astarion tells himself.

Something about this being with her makes it… different.

She's careful not to apply much pressure too soon, testing the waters as she sinks down onto his lap.

The elf hisses as her clothed center envelopes his covered cock, biting his lip to stifle his moan. His hands find purchase atop her thighs, keeping her steady.

“Is this okay, Astarion? Please, tell me,” Tav says, beginning to grind slowly against him.

Astarion's mind is a battlefield, filled with shame, lust, disgust, desire, but above all, love.

He loves this woman. He's known this for quite some time, though too afraid to admit it.

Love has always meant pain. Attachment meant control.

But, with Tav…

Love is safe. Attachment is freedom.

Free, and safe, to be his own person. To live life for himself.

“I'm okay, dear,” he affirms, holding the hands she has over his chest. “I'm still here.”

Tav smiles down at him as she grinds over the length of him again, bending over to capture his lips in a chaste kiss. “Good,” she tells him, “I really like when you're here.”

Astarion tangles a hand in her hair, holding her close. She relaxes under him as he rolls his hips up against her core, a moan escaping his lips.

“I- I want-” he chokes out between broken moans.

Tav hums softly against his ear before asking, “Want what, Astarion? Tell me.”

“I… I want to come inside you,” he tells her, punctuating his statement with another thrust of his hips.

She moans against his ear, meeting his thrusts with her own. “...Right now?” Tav asks.

“N-no,” he admits, “not now. Eventually.” His other arm wraps around the middle of her back, holding her tighter to his chest. The pleasure begins to coil like a spring, tighter and tighter, eyes falling closed as his head falls back against the pillow.

“I… I want to feel you around me as I fill you.” Astarion opens his eyes, turning his head to meet her gaze through heavy lids. “...I think about it often,” he further admits.

Tav giggles, grinding down harder before saying in a sultry voice, “That can get me pregnant, you know.”

Eyes closing again, Astarion groans, hips bucking against her core. “I don't care,” he growls out. “I would show you off to the entire world, everyone knowing what we've done.”

“You want to knock me up, Astarion?” Tav asks, more in acknowledgement than in question.

“Fuck, darling, yes,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

Tav pushes herself upright in his lap, bending back to brace herself on his thighs. “Would you still fuck me, Astarion?” she questions, continuing their prior rhythm.

“What a silly question,” he replies, placing a hand on her lower abdomen. “I would lavish every change of your body as it swells with my child.”

Humming, Tav tosses her head back, losing herself as he bucks up into her from below. Her own arousal is quickly mounting, threatening to spill over.

“Lucky for you,” she tells him, her voice strained, “I, too, wish the same.”

Tav feels his cock twitch under her as she confesses. The waistband of his underwear has slipped under his glans from their activities, pre-cum starting to pool against his lower abdomen.

“But,” she adds, breathily, “only when you're ready for it.”

Astarion’s hands quickly drag her back down over him, and she holds her arms out just in time to brace herself above him. His hips buck up into her heated center as he holds her face, bringing their lips together with a throaty groan.

“Gods, I love you,” he tells her, breaking the kiss momentarily. He tugs at her bottom lip with blunted teeth before capturing her lips again, their tongues intertwining.

They find a rhythm to their seemingly ceaseless rutting, breaths hitching. They're panting now, hard, Tav running her hands through silver curls as she nears completion.

“Astarion, I’m almost there,” she pants against his neck.

His arms wrap around her lower back as he brings his face to her ear. “Tell me what you need, darling,” he purrs, nipping at her earlobe with a fang.

“My… my neck,” Tav says. “K-kiss my neck, please. Your favorite spot…”

Astarion's lips descend upon her neck, suckling at his usual spot. He's fed from this particular spot enough that she's beginning to develop scars - the same scars that he himself bears.

She's given so much to him, he realizes. Her blood, her body, her trust. Never once has she doubted him, even if it was the more reasonable thing to do.

Astarion teases her skin with his fangs, applying enough pressure to feel like he's going to bite, without actually piercing. Tav’s body shakes above him.

“Gods, fuck, Astarion-!” Tav cries, toppling over the ledge. Her hips grind messily over his crotch. He quickly follows her, ropes of his spend shooting between their stomachs as they lay pressed together, mouths agape as they drift softly down from their high.

Astarion groans softly against her neck, planting soft kisses against her jawline as her hands play idly with his hair.

They lay together for some time before Tav speaks up, “Hey, Astarion?”

He hums in acknowledgement, giving her the confidence to continue.

She lifts herself up by her arms, looking into his eyes and she tells him, “I love you, too.”

A relieved smile fills Astarion's face as she settles back against his chest.

Neither mind the mess between them as they continue to lay together, enjoying the genuine peace of co-existing.

I'm finally safe, he reminds himself.

This is home.

#bg3 astarion #astarion smut #astarion x reader #bg3 #astarion #fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x female reader

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shuyamino · 2 years

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LUXIEM IN COLLEGE

pairing(s) : ✒ ،، mysta rias x reader | ike eveland x reader | vox akuma x reader | luca kaneshiro x reader | shu yamino x reader

summary : ✒ ،، You're attending Nijisanji University and meet a couple of interesting characters ...

note : ✒ ،، my 100th post, ayoooo!! some of the details here are from my own experience in uni, which hopefully adds more realism to it :3 i'm currently working on 3 longer wips, so ive been a bit slow with writing. i hope this makes up for it <3!!!

SHU YAMINO AS THE TECH SUPPORT ʿ ⟢

SHU is works at your campus' Genius Center — which is just a fancy way of saying the college IT workers. From what you remembered, they help out with various of tech-related services. Which is perfect for you, after your laptop suddenly died one night.

You basically ran into the campus support center the following morning and thrusted your laptop into the nearest Tech Support you can spot — this essay was due that evening! You knew you shouldn't have procrastinated, but you did anyways.

Shu wasn't too shocked about your actions — by now, it was fairly normal to have various college students panicking in the lobby. He holds your laptop, voice calm as he asks you what the problem is.

You're rambling a bit too much. Jumping around topics and making a flurry of hand movements. But he's nodding along, lips still curved to a comforting smile as he leads you towards one of the desks in the small building.

Once you finish your explanation, he has your laptop open and clicking away at the keyboard.

"Um — s-so, can you fix it?" You ask quietly, peeking over his shoulder to look at your laptop screen.

"Well, it looks like you have a... couple of viruses." He answers, craning his neck just to look at you from over his shoulder. "You said you had an essay due soon?" You nod, lips pursed.

"Well… I can help fix up your laptop but if you had your essay saved in a Drive, you can borrow a laptop here and finish it up." You thank him as he heads to the back to get you a campus-issued laptop.

For a good chunk of that day, the two of you sat in this corner — him, trying to fix your laptop and you, trying to finish the rest of your essay.

SHU abruptly stops to stretch his arms up above his head, groaning slightly as he fixed his posture. You'd gotten more than half of your essay finished — thankfully you had the foresight to save all of your online references in a separate outlined document. Since you ran to the tech support building the moment you woke up, you didn't have time to eat breakfast. It wasn't long until your stomach began to protest that mistake. Your cheeks burn red as your stomach groaned — just loud enough to catch Shu's attention. His eyes glance over yours, lips slowly curving to a warm smile. "I...was thinking of taking a coffee break, do you want to come grab something with me?"

It isn't until much later after he helped fix your laptop that you find out that the campus tech support doesn't help students with their personal laptops.

Nor do they take them out for coffee.

MYSTA RIAS AS THE CLASS CRYPTID ʿ ⟢

MYSTA is a student that you thought was failing your shared course — he was fairly late the first day and looked like he rolled out of bed before running to the lecture hall.

He sat beside you at the back corner of the lecture hall after being sternly reprimanded by your professor. He didn't seem to be bothered by it, if anything, it looked like the scolding went in one ear and out the other.

The rest of the semester continues like this. Since it's a general edu class, you're not quite sure what his major is. There were some days when it looked like he was doing comp sci work. Another day when he was reading an online textbook about primates (Anthropology, maybe?). And there were even some slower days when he would just sit and watch anime with a pair of discrete Airpods.

There were some days when he'd notice you staring and he'd turn on subtitles and tilt his laptop towards your direction. Other than this, the two of you rarely spoke to each other. Just small talk at most — it was easy to joke with him, at least, but other than that, you didn't really see him outside of this lecture hall.

Least to say, you've grown morbidly curious about him as the semester progressed. There were a few things that you knew about him — he seemed to like the color orange, if his clothes were anything to go by, and he liked anime. In addition to these facts, you were fairly certain that he was failing this class.

So, imagine your shock after receiving the results of your first exam and you spot a clear 100% on Mysta's paper compared to your 69%.

MYSTA must have noticed you staring because his head snapped up from his exam paper directly to you. You jump slightly, startled at getting caught staring. His eyes trail down to your paper, lips curving slightly at the red mark on your paper. Just as you're about to accusatorially ask him what he was grinning at, he points at the number with a laugh. "You got a 69!" Your jaw slacks because it wasn't exactly what you'd expected to come from his mouth, all the while he keeps laughing about the funny number. You're sat there with an absolute deadpan expression all the while the oh-so mysterious classmate laughs at your score. Not because of how badly you'd done — no, he's laughing because it's a sixty-nine. "Aw, don't pout." Mysta says, wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes. His voice lowered, edging slightly towards a mockingly condescending tone. "I can help you study for the next test, if you want~"

The "study session" actually just consisted of watching more anime and eating.

IKE EVELAND AS THE CAMPUS LIBRARIAN ʿ ⟢

IKE works in the campus library!

He's known for being very friendly and approachable. Any and all anxiety disappears the moment you see him. He just has a really comforting vibe! Students that tour first years around campus make sure to tell them about Ike Eveland. ("If you ever need help around the library, find Ike!")

Ike often works behind the counter on the first floor, but there are moments in which he's putting books back where they belong in the other floors of the library.

You frequented the library — mostly taking advantage of the air conditioning, the tables and comfy chairs, and the quiet floor to take naps in during your free time.

When you weren't studying or finishing up course work, you were usually just sitting around the quiet room to take a nap or just have some downtime from your hectic classes and loud campus.

Despite this, you haven't really spoken to Ike. You never had to, anyway. But you have heard of him — more often than not, you hear people around the other floors whispering and giggling about the cute librarian on the first floor. It doesn't take a genius to know who they were talking about.

The first time you meet him was by pure coincidence.

"Stupid book…" You muttered, already standing on your toes as you stretch your arm up above your head. It wasn't even placed on the highest shelf — just a shelf above your reach. None of the step stools were around either, leaving you to fight this alone. Just as your fingertips managed to reach the book's spine, another hand came into view and easily pulled the book out from the shelf. Your head turns, ready to thank your savior, before you realize you're basically face-to-face with the one and only — "Y-You...!" You stammer before you can help it. IKE tilts is head slightly, seemingly unaffected by the distance between the two of you, or the lack there of. His torso is brushing against your back and you're basically caged between his body and the bookshelf. Your heart thrums against your chest — the loud drumming filling your ears as your cheeks fill with heat. "Sorry, it looked like you needed help." He explains, as he holds the book out for you. You close your mouth, hoping that he didn't notice the way your jaw slackened at the sight of him as you wordlessly take the book from his hand. You're fixing your hair before you can help it — a nervous habit at most. The others weren't exaggerating at all, you think, as you sneak another glance at Ike. He is just as pretty as most people say — kind eyes with long, pretty lashes and a kind smile. Is it a little weird to note that he smells like vanilla too? "I'm still around here for a bit, if you need any more help you can come ask me, okay?"

VOX AKUMA AS THE NEW PROFESSOR ʿ ⟢

VOX recently graduated from grad school and is starting his first year as a professor in Nijisanji University! You're lucky enough to be able to attend his first ever class in your last year as an undergrad.

He's teaching English Literature and even while most students are taking this class to fill in for their general education, he expected the lot of you to still take his class seriously.

It's an hour and thirty minute long class and he spends the first few minutes just talking to the class and reading a short poem every Friday.

Even though it's his first time teaching, he's really good at explaining concepts and various analysis. In addition to this, he's very attentive to what the class (and individual) needs.

It's hard to think that it was his first time teaching, not gonna lie.

On top of his attentiveness, Professor Vox was both pleasing to the eyes and ears. It wouldn't be an over-exaggeration to say that he became a fairly popular professor to the entire student body.

As easy as this class was for the most part, you were still struggling with being able to analyze and connect some literary devices.

So, seeing the bright red C- and a 'Please see me after class', in your latest exam wasn't much of a shock

Professor VOX didn't seem disappointed when you approached him at the end of class — if anything, he seemed concerned. You tried to ignore the wary looks your classmates gave you when you approached him though. It was already embarrassing to get such an awful grade, even weirder knowing that your classmates are imagining some weird porn scenario in their head right about now. He greets you kindly despite your grade and is already packing his things up for the next class. You're nervously fidgeting with your thumbs — you've always hated having to talk to professors about your grade. No matter how kind they were. "I'm really sorry," You start, before he can start his 'I'm-not-disappointed' speech. Vox's eyebrows quirk, before his lips curl to a comforting smile. "I just…I kind of understand everything — " "There's nothing to apologize for," He cuts you off with a small wave of his hand. "If anything, I want to be the one to apologize. I should have noticed one of my students struggling." Your heart skips a beat. It's unfair for him to be handsome, attentive, and kind. Your cheeks flush before you can help it — a deep flush that makes you sweat a little under his gaze. "I-I think it's just hard to connect these kinds of things for me." You explain, hoping that your voice doesn't come out too high pitched. "It really isn't your fault." Vox seems to mull it over. "Well, I won't force your hand on the matter, but if you'd prefer, I am open for one-on-one tutoring sessions."

LUCA KANESHIRO AS THE DORM CUTIE ʿ ⟢

The dorms were co-ed, though the male and female rooms were separated in different wings. When you first started college, you were required to live in the dorms.

Bumping into the opposite gender wasn't anything odd, though you'd be a liar to say that you didn't have moments of confusion upon seeing some rando standing about by your dorm room.

You meet LUCA on your way to one evening class — an unavoidable class, unfortunately, if you want to stay on track for your 4-year graduation. You bump into him past the common room, where he's making a sandwich.

You don't recognize him right away, but he does you.

"Oh hey!" He calls out, holding a sandwich in his hand. "I remember you from orientation. Where are you going?"

He seemed friendly enough, so you explain to him where you were heading. It wasn't until a few seconds into the conversation that you realize that he was in your orientation group. His name was at the tip of your tongue — Leo? Luke? — Oh, right! Luca.

LUCA blinks, looking confused when you explained to him where you were heading — almost like it didn't even cross his mind that people would take classes this late in the evening. You stare back, more or less confused about his reaction than anything else. He reminds you of the typical frat boy — wouldn't be too surprised if he did end up joining a fraternity after living in the dorms. Broad shoulders and a big build. And his thin white shirt isn't doing much to hide the dark tattoos on his chest. His medium length blonde hair is messily tied up too, like he'd done it in a hurry to make his sandwich. He is cute though. "Well, I should go." You say, pointing towards the elevator. It was the first day — or, evening, you guess — and you really didn't want to be late, even if it meant being able to talk to someone like Luca. "Oh, wait! I actually have somewhere to go right now. Is it cool if I walk with you?" Luca asks, still smiling brightly with his sandwich. You can't help but squint at him. It was clear that he wasn't planning on going out anywhere. He must have noticed your suspicion because he quickly adds, "It's late, you know. We can keep each other safe!" You realize then what he was hoping to do. You couldn't help but beam at him; your lips curling to a wide smile. You agree to his offer, deciding to play along with his excuse. Just this once. His own face lights up at your response. His response reminds you of a giant giant golden retriever. "Pog! Lemme jus' grab my jacket."

#shu yamino x reader #mysta rias x reader #ike eveland x reader #vox akuma x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader #luxiem x reader #nijisanji en x reader #luxiem imagines #luxiem imagine #college au #im so sorry if its obvious i have so much feels for shu while i was writing this jifwuehfuiwe #★﹚mysta #★﹚shu #★﹚vox #★﹚luca #★﹚ike #casper★writes

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just-here-for-the-moment · 1 year

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Secret Santa fic for @noisynaia 💖

Secret Santa fic for @noisynaia! Santa told me you wanted some Marcus Moreno fluff. I'm so glad I was able to do this for you. Enjoy!

Outline: Marcus Moreno x f!reader (no racial or physical descriptors of f!reader)

Word count: 1800

Rating: Teen/Mild angst and soft fluff

Warnings: Christmas fluff, mentions of vomiting, very mild angst, love confessions, soft fluff, and happy ending

***

You paused outside of Marcus’s office door, knuckles hovering a half-inch from the surface. Was that a groan?

You rapped tentatively, “Marcus?”

Another faint groan issued from within, and you didn’t wait for an answer before you twisted the handle and pushed through, your heart beating in your throat.

Marcus was slumped over his desk, his face ashen and perspiration beading on his brow. His tie was askew, the knot pulled loose to reveal three open buttons on his blue shirt. His glasses were tossed casually on his desk, and his leather jacket had fallen to the floor. He held his head in one hand, and looked the picture of absolute misery.

“Marcus!” You rushed toward him, dropping your manila file folders and scattering papers in your wake.

You wrapped your hands around Marcus’s broad bicep and propped him to sit up and rest against the back of his desk chair, then you propped your butt on his desk, facing him.

He huffed out a weak, “Thanks,” and rolled his big brown eyes to you, but they were glazed and unseeing.

You pressed the back of your hand to his forehead. Marcus didn’t have a fever, but the fact that he was cold and clammy wasn’t much of a relief. You worked quickly at his tie, pulling the knot down and off and piling it on his desk in a heap of rumpled navy blue.

“Marcus, what happened?” You ducked your head to catch his eye.

His voice was slurred in response, “Sushi.”

“Sushi? Guppy’s baby sister?” You frowned. “Marcus, she’s nine months old. How did a baby do this to you?”

Marcus huffed out a pained laugh and his eyes fluttered closed. “No… bad sushi. I went to lunch with Samantha… think the sushi was-”

Marcus’s eyes went wide as he gulped hard, and he suddenly lurched out of his chair and darted toward his private bathroom. The door slammed closed behind him, and you winced at the faint sound of him retching. The bathroom was mostly soundproofed, but still.

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling and hummed, trying to block out the sounds.

Your mind wandered to Samantha, the head of Accounting. You wondered what Marcus had been doing going to lunch with the tall, vivacious redhead. You were jealous, but you could understand how men were drawn to her. Samantha wielded her charm on everyone at Heroics Headquarters, and not a single person disliked her. She had broken off an engagement four months ago, and you guessed that she and Marcus had been out on a lunch date. They were both single and ridiculously attractive. Your heart squeezed at the thought, but you knew that you didn’t have the guts to ask him out, so why shouldn’t she?

You suddenly remembered that Marcus had a small fridge in his office, and you hopped down off the desk and crossed to the cabinets built into one wall. You leaned down and opened the normal-looking cabinet door that you knew concealed the fridge. To your great relief, there were plenty of bottles of water and even a few cans of soda, including a ginger ale. You picked up a can and a bottle, and swept the door closed with your toe, then opened the cabinet above your head to look for a cup. Marcus had a few brightly colored paper cups left from a party, so you grabbed two.

You heard the muted sound of the toilet flushing followed by water running in the sink, and you hoped Marcus would be okay. You popped the tab of the soda can open, and held the paper cup in one hand as you poured ice-cold ginger ale into it from a great height. Then you snagged the second paper cup and poured the ginger ale back and forth to take out as many of the bubbles as you could. Slightly flat ginger ale and a few sips of water might help Marcus, at least until you could get him home to his own bed.

You wondered whether you should call someone to help, but given that it was after 4:00 p.m. on the Friday before the long winter holiday break, the Heroics HQ building was virtually deserted. Marcus didn’t seem like he needed emergency medical help, probably just a ride home and someone to make sure he stayed hydrated. You remembered him saying that Missy was off visiting relatives for the weekend with her grandmother, so at least he could relax at home with no distractions.

The door to the bathroom opened and you looked up to see Marcus looking slightly less pale. He moved toward the sleek black leather couch in the corner and collapsed onto it, resting his head against the back of the sofa and staring blearily up at the ceiling. You brought the bottle of water and the pink paper cup of ginger ale to him and set them both on the low coffee table at his knee.

You pointed at them and gave Marcus a gentle order, “Sip, don’t gulp.”

Then you headed into his bathroom and wet a paper towel with cold water. You squeezed out the excess and smoothed it out, and then crossed to the sofa, where you hesitated for a moment. You weren’t sure if you should just give Marcus the paper towel, or hold it on his forehead yourself.

You had a massive crush on Marcus Moreno, the leader of the Heroics and technically your boss, but it’s not like this was making a move on him, right? This was just you taking care of a sick co-worker, not crossing professional lines or sexually harassing him. And you were pretty sure that he didn’t even know you had a crush on him. He was a busy man, and a single father to boot. It was hardly likely that he even knew you existed outside of your job functions.

You folded one foot under yourself to sit on the couch facing his side, and you hesitantly held the paper towel against his forehead, cupping it there with your palm.

Marcus closed his eyes and sighed, and you saw his face relax.

“This okay?” you asked.

“S’perfect,” Marcus breathed. “Feels good… you’re perfect. Thank you.” He brought one broad hand up to pat your folded knee awkwardly, and you felt a thrill of electric excitement run up your spine.

You shook it off and tried to smile, “I’m glad. Did you drink anything?”

“Not yet.”

You took the paper towel off Marcus’s forehead and leaned over to grab the cup. “Here, you need to try at least a little sip.”

Marcus opened his eyes and nodded, and then took a dutiful sip. He swallowed and then set the cup down and reached for the water bottle. After drinking a little, he sighed and leaned his head back again and closed his eyes. You gently laid the paper towel across his forehead again, and he smiled.

“Thank you,” said Marcus. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. You don’t have to stay, you can go start your holiday break if you want.”

“No, I think I should drive you home. You don’t seem like you’re in any shape to transport yourself.”

“You don’t have to,” Marcus shook his head and opened his eyes to look at you. “I’m sure you have a big date or a party, or something you would rather be doing.”

You laughed, and Marcus frowned. “Did I say something funny?”

“Yes, there are no big dates anytime in my future. I’m as single as a Pringle, unfortunately.”

“But how? You’re so-” Marcus stopped himself. “Never mind.”

You knit your brows, “No, go ahead and say it. I’m ‘so’ what?”

Marcus took a swig of the ginger ale and put the cup back down. “Nothing. It’s not appropriate.”

You laughed again, and Marcus frowned and sighed as he leaned his head back against the cushions. He rubbed his forehead, “I wish you wouldn’t laugh at me. There’s no need to kick me when I’m down.”

You put a hand on Marcus’s forearm and patted him gently, “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I’m just a little tickled by the notion that you have any thoughts that are inappropriate. You seem like such a boy scout. I’m sure whatever you were going to say was entirely appropriate.”

“I was going to say…” Marcus rolled his head to the side, his big brown eyes catching yours, and the force of his gaze and his words stole your breath, “You’re so pretty. How do you not have any dates lined up?”

“Oh,” you breathed softly. Then embarrassment crawled up your chest, as you realized that you were sitting awfully close to your very handsome boss, and that you still had your hand on his arm. You jerked it back like you’d been burned.

“Umm… I- I don’t know?” You cleared your throat, “I guess I haven’t really been interested in dating lately. I just moved here six months ago and I haven’t really… you know,” you shrugged.

“You should,” Marcus purred, “You should find someone nice.”

You shrugged and tried to play it cool, “I guess there are a few prospects I might chase down.”

Marcus’s face fell. “A few?”

You hemmed a bit, “Well, just one. But I think he’s taken.”

Marcus frowned back, “Oh.”

‘What?”

This time it was Marcus’s turn to shrug. “I thought you had your eye on someone single. If this guy is taken, then he’s an idiot.”

“What?”

Marcus sipped at the ginger ale, his brown eyes holding fast to yours over the rim of the cup. He set it down and then looked at his knees, almost shy.

“I just think if this guy is taken, if he isn’t with you, he must be some kind of an idiot.”

All the breath left your lungs, and you hesitated for only a moment before you reached out to touch Marcus’s forearm gently.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot, Marcus.”

His head snapped up, and he scowled at you intently. “Me?”

You smiled shyly, “Yes, you. I’ve had a huge crush on you almost since I started here, but you’re technically my boss, and… well, you said you had a lunch date with Samantha.”

Marcus shook his head, “No, not a date. Just friends.”

He grinned. “You thought I was taken? I’ve been asking around as discreetly as possible whether you were dating anyone.”

Your small, shy smile split into a wide grin. “You were?”

Marcus nodded. “Yeah, I was hoping I could ask you out. Well, maybe later, after I’m better…” he laughed.

You nodded, “Yeah- yes! I would love that.”

Marcus’s eyes went soft, and he reached over to cup your face. His hand was warm and gentle as he rubbed his thumb across your cheek.

You smiled at each other for a long moment, and then Marcus whispered, “Merry Christmas, beautiful.”

#secret santa fic exchange #pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift22

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canyouhearthelight · 1 year

Text

The Miys, Ch. 229

So... Kind of gave myself an anxiety attack. Opened my current master doc (for those who are curious, this story fills 3 documents to the point of locking up my computer. Insert eyeroll here), and only saw this week’s chapter in the outline.

Scrambling to write the next chapter within the next week is NOT how I want to this to end. Everyone has been so patient with the chapters where I had to do that, and I. Am. Not. Ending. It. Like. That!

And then I saw that I just hadn’t added next week’s chapter to the outline. So all that frustration was for nothing.

This week’s recognition! Obviously @baelpenrose for sticking in here so long... geez it’s been years. @gingersnap126126, welcome aboard! @dierotenixe, because I can’t not appreciate Nixe... A character so incredible I had to figure out how to put a mermaid on a space ship! And this week’s recognized speed runner, @mike-ks-66502-blog. As of posting you are up to chapter 53 as far as I am aware, but quite possibly beyond that, because every time I turn around you are 10 chapters past where I thought you were. I am SO happy that you are enjoying the story... please feel free to tell me who your favorite character is so far!

Edit: And @mustachebatschaos... omg how could I forget! You literally changed the entire course of this story!

Parvati and I were finalizing the phrasing on the dispatch to the ship and about to send it over to Hannah for one last check, when the pilot team suddenly started swearing loudly. Launching to my feet, I saw everyone else was doing the same. “Maverick, Tyche, what - “

BLAAAT. BLAAAT.

Klaxons started sounding, forcing me to cover my ears. “What is going on?!” I shouted.

“Weapons fire!” Evan yelled as she strode into the center of the room. “Firing from the Eko-mari fleet, away from the Ark!”

Over her shoulder, I could see Maverick slamming himself into his seat and pulling down the restraint system. “Noah! Turn that damned sound off, dude! No one can hear directions over that racket!”

My ears rang for a moment at the quiet before I was brave enough to remove my hands. They weren’t completely off, but at least quiet enough to talk over. “Parvati, start pulling up maps for people on recreation,” I ordered before trotting over to Tyche, who was swapping places with Evania. “Can you keep sitrep running with Xio?”

“On it,” she nodded. “Maverick and Evania are prepping for manual piloting and getting a better view of the field.”

“The Eko-Mari are firing at what appears to be a cloaked ship,” Noah announced from above. “Nothing indicates anything has been hit.”

Charly was halfway to the exit before she realized she had to stay put. She started pacing frenetically and held her hands to her ears. “Coffey, Nixe, we need Teeth in suspension yesterday. The Eko-mari are firing at something, and we think it’s the S’crirs or one of the other pirate ships. They have a right to know, but be prepared to sedate them. If they leave that medbay, there’s no telling what they’ll do.”

“Alice! Are the checks done!?” I shouted, turning back towards the pilots.

“All…. most…. YES!”

“Conor!” I shouted into my databand. “Escort Derek to the nearest med bay - wait, no. Signal Sam to see which one he is closest to, then Derek to that medbay. Bonus points if it’s - ” I cut off and whipped back around to Charly. “Twelve?”

“Twelve!” she shouted back before continuing to issue orders.

“Bonus points if it’s twelve. That’s where Charly’s family is. I’ll signal Simon and let him know, see if he’s close enough.”

“Do I need to come in and get Derek?” he asked, his tense enough that I knew he was ready to force the door if he had to.

“Noah should let him through without issue,” I responded, walking as briskly as I could without jogging to where Derek had squatted against the bulkhead, hands over his ears. “Hey,” I said softly, line still open and unmuted. “Conor is going to take you to a medbay with Sam, so it’ll be quiet. All you gotta do is make it to the door. I’ll walk with you.”

He nodded, so overwhelmed by the sudden noise and all the shouting that signing was out of the question. Instead, he rose to his feet and walked around the hand I held out.

Okay, no touching, got it, I thought, instead just making sure to walk where he could see me and getting him to the exit as quickly as possible. “Connor, we’re here.”

The door started to iris open, and before it was even halfway there, a hand thrust through with a pair of noise canceling headphones. “Here, bud.” When the door opened completely and he could see my confusion, he gave a short laugh. “When you said I may need to escort Derek away, I went and grabbed them just in case.”

“Good call,” I approved softly before handing the headphones off to Derek and kissing Conor’s wrist. “Be safe,” I whispered. “Charly filled in Nixe and Coffey, so they can give you the details.”

He dragged my hand up and kissed my palm before sweeping his arms wide to create a buffer for Derek. “Let’s go. Same drill as always - if you need to grab my shirt to stay close, go for it. I’ll big-guy my way through the crowd. Hell, if we run into Jokul, we can practically create a bubble.”

Derek weaved past me, hands trembling while he tried to sign. “Jokul big,” he said, nodding that it was a good thing.

“Yeah he is! And he’s almost as scary as Tyche when he tries.” Conor carefully escorted Derek around the curve in the corridor.

A high-pitched, semi-hysterical giggle echoed eerily behind them, and I forced myself back to the situation at hand. “Status?” I asked as calmly as possible.

“Additional shots fired, still none have landed,” Tyche rattled off. Her hands flew in a bizarre combination of dancing and conducting. “But the area is getting more focused, and if they hit one of the pirates, we’re going to be in a tough spot.”

“Evan!” Xiomara barked. “Which side of the ship is the fleet firing from?”

“Port, thirty degrees from our x.”

“Charly! Is the S’crirs on that side?”

Charly scrambled to contact, but received no response. Her eyes widened. “I am taking that as a yes.”

“ ‘Sorry, we can’t talk right now, we’re being shot at by your stalkers’ is pretty universal,” Arthur agreed. “Evan, Tyche, anyone with an engineering degree - how hard would it be for us to veer to starboard, and are micro jumps a thing?”

“Incredibly, and not for the Ark,” Tyche droned, focused on her invisible screens. “We may be able to drift pretty hard that direction, though.”

Before anyone could think of any other options, I saw Maverick brace himself and nod once, barely visible over Tyche’s shoulder. “Hold on to your butts, we’re bowling for buzzards!”

I had just enough time to splay flat on the floor before the entire Ark pitched hard to one side and dropped out from under me. Vibrations rattled through the deck and into my teeth for several minutes before the rocking and falling feeling stopped.

Rolling to my side, all I could do was gasp desperately for air while screeching came over the speakers. “Hujylsogox Vessel Yjq! You have declared an act of war against the Galactic - “

“Our sincerest apologies,” Noah’s voice cut them off. I realized, not too far behind nearly everyone else, that Noah was playing the audio solely for our benefit. “We were attempting to maneuver away from the threat you detected, in the event of stray return fire. There is still a partially healed breech in the hull on the port side, and we cannot risk our cargo being exposed to vacuum. We were unaware it could be taken as an offensive maneuver, as we only detected debris in the navigatory direction.”

“THAT WAS OUR FLEET!”

A quick tap to my ears showed no blood, and the resultant ringing was significantly less annoying than Tea-Kettle’s shouting, so I just rested my cheek against the floor.

“We only detected debris,” Noah repeated distantly. “Threat assessment indicated that the asteroids would do less damage to the Ark than stray fire, with eight nines of certitude.”

A very muffled, repulsive noise filtered through my poor hearing. “Your unapproved change in course has damaged several of our vessels. You will return your ship to its correct bearing, immediately, and schedule the Yjq for maintenance once this folly is concluded.”

“We fear the Yjq may need to be decommissioned due to age, but will take your assessment under advisement,” Noah agreed before cutting audio.

“The Ark is returning to original heading,” Maverick announced. “On auto-pilot, so to speak.”

“Pilot Okima, there is nothing automatic about how I navigate the Ark, especially when you have created such stress on the drives,” Noah scolded.

“You’re more automatic than I am. And the drives shouldn’t be too bad off - I used the forward momentum to make the curve. No braking, I swear.”

“Our ideas of breaking are very disparate.”

Everything settled into a kind of dull roar, and I started pushing myself up from the floor. I managed to get on my hands and knees before scuttling to a table for leverage. “Why is this in the same spot?” I wondered inanely.

“It’s part of the deck,” Tyche groaned as she forced herself to her feet.

Awesome. Good to know.

“I have the S’crirs!” Charly screamed. “Noah, can you patch them through so we can all hear them!?”

Rather than the buzzing answer I expected, a mellow alto voice started. “ - for the distraction your people provided.”

“This is Xiomara Kalloe. Do you know how they found you?”

“Warrior Kalloe, one of our tugs experienced a drive malfunction and the captain would not abandon their freight. It is shameful.”

“Far be it from me to reprimand someone trying to ensure they get paid,” Xio assured. “Are your people safe?”

Brol’s baritone filled the air next. “All who were willing to abandon the tug have been evacuated, yes. Any vessels able to do so have relocated to follow in the wake of the Ark.”

“Can you send Charly the current locations of your ships along with expected flight paths?” Maverick called out. “I don’t want to bump into anyone, and we’d all be grateful to know how badly the birds are aiming.”

“Who is speaking.” Ix’al wasn’t asking. She was demanding.

“This is Maverick Okima, human pilot, Your Grace. Consort to Sophia Reid, and one who loves Teeth as my own.”

Consort? I mouthed, scowling.

He grinned unrepentantly and wiggled his wrist at me.

His message was waiting for me on my datapad. “They’re matriarchal, and I’m not arguing with someone big enough to kill me by accident.”

“This will suffice.” Hell, from Ix’al it was a glowing approval. “Are any other humans piloting, or are we to give you sole credit for such…unexpected maneuvers?”

“Evania Josue, Xiomara’s second, is also piloting. Tyche Reid - “

“Charly and Sophia, you neglected to inform us that your other sister is a pilot.”

“In training,” Tyche offered, fighting a feral smile. “I am navigating, currently. When Miys is not.”

“Well met.” The filter over Brol’s voice sounded like it was laughing, which I took as a good sign. “And this Evania Josue?”

“Evan, sir and Grace,” she responded for herself. “I… am not directly affiliated with Teeth’s family.”

“She stabbed you, Ix’al,” Charly added to the utmost horror of several of us. “She’s the one who removed - “

Shouts attempted to drown her out. I stared down Xiomara and did my damnedest to develop telepathy so we could figure out where to hide Evan. Pranav actually tried to tackle Charly, but failed horribly when he underestimated her agility. The antics drew everyone’s eyes to Charly, thankfully, so we noticed when she stopped dodging and just pointed up.

That’s when we heard it.

Ix’al was laughing.

“Oh, the one who gouged out her ears!” the alien Queen crowed. “Yes, you were quite fierce! Has your leg healed fully?”

Evan’s eyes widened and she instinctively bent her left leg a few times before rubbing her thigh. “It aches now and then, but I am far fitter than I would be without the Ark’s technology.”

“Scars are trophies that last the rest of our days,” Ix’al advised. I could almost imagine her nodding.

Pranav brushed off the front of his shirt nervously, and rocked his head side to side. “Your Highness, my apologies for the interruption. I am Pranav Ranganathan, head of data security and programming.”

“The clever one who stole the squeaking vermin’s data, yes. We recall.”

He ran a hand over his scalp in relief. “We believe we have a possible weapon to assist you. How secure is this communication?”

“As secure as it can get with pirated technology and a theoretically mythical being hiding the data,” Charly answered.

“Quite secure then, superb.” Another inch of relaxation hit him. “We solicited the population for ways to block the fleet without killing them all, to ensure we were doing the right thing.”

Brol spoke up. “Yes, a rare act of conscience for a predatory mammalian species.” A thumping noise broke through before he spoke again. “Xale, do not pretend offense. You have often chided your sister for the same thinking.”

Pranav looked confused until Charly whispered something in his ear. She must have explained Xale’s job and relationship to Teeth, because he nodded in understanding. “One of our own provided an idea that we only feel confident in half of, but it is a half that you can leverage.”

Grey, in a rare moment, raised their voice. “Pranav, biological warfare, even under the GeeCee, is considered a war crime.”

“Of sorts,” Brol agreed. “There are exceptions, but your tone indicates that this is not one.”

“It is not,” Pranav confirmed. “But that isn’t the half I’m talking about, thankfully. Derek, our…. Our Teeth, if you will allow the comparison, has suggested a computer virus. He has even supplied the code within the proposal. Can we send it to your people, with the express advisement not to actually run the code outside of a sandbox?”

After a brief but heavy silence, Brol spoke again. “And this is the half you are not concerned about?”

“Correct.”

“May we ask what the half you were rejecting involved?” Ix’al broached, tone more curious than cautionary.

“Oh, sending over a load of Terran bacterial infections and viruses,” Pranav assured. “I do not approve of bioweapons, however, so I would never relay such a suggestion.”

Splashing overruled any attempt at a response from the S’crirs end, before the line went suddenly quiet. Charly glared at Pranav in accusation, but he only held his hands up and shook his head. “I said it was off the table!”

“The line is not disconnected,” Noah advised. “Merely silenced temporarily.”

“Sorry,” Charly whisper-shouted at Pranav, who nodded in acceptance.

“Our apologies,” Ix’al’s voice broke through. “We needed to calm Xale. Xe once contracted a Terran sinus infection from Teeth and was comatose for several months.”

Tyche’s head whipped over to me, and I couldn’t blame her. My eyes crossed as I stared at my own nose in accusation. Months? Really? I had been prone to sinus infections my entire life… Poor Xale.

“At least they were comatose through it,” I thought out loud. “They’re hell to be awake for.”

“We will run the program in a sandbox,” Brol advised in a rush. “If Terran computer viruses are anything like their biological ones, a quarantine is simply a prudent measure.”

<<Prev Masterlist Next>>

#the miys #found family #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #apocalypse #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #aliens #humans are space fae #hfy #haw #earth is space australia #original science fiction #original sci fi #my writing

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total-serene560 · 3 months

Text

Making this to pin to my blog for general fic info:

Current List of Completed Fics:

> The Truth Runs Wild Inside Of Me: Stranger Things, One-shot, Platonic Elmike and pre-relationship Byler, Post-ST4. Description:

Because, in a moment, El will reach out and invade his mind. She will see everything, all his memories and insecurities and all the lies he told and filed away in a box full of all his regrets and guilt. She’ll see how much of a freak he is, how much is wrong with him- a hand reaches out then, El’s fingertips pressing just barely into the top of his knee. A message. Breathe. Fuck, he's holding his breath.

> I Dare You: Stranger Things, Two-shot, Byler, Post-ST2 Divergence. Description:

"That's high praise coming from someone who's never had to kiss me,” Will meant it as a joke, but the moment it left his mouth, he wished he could just swallow his own tongue and fall through the couch, “I-I mean-“ Mike just stared at him, eyes searching his face while his hand continued to rest on that spot between his neck and shoulder. His voice was so low and quiet that Will almost didn't hear him, “Is that a dare, Byers?” Shit.

Tumblr Ficlets:

The Byers leave Hawkins, Mike doesn't know how to deal with it

The first time he figures it out, he's 13

Normal Isn't Worth It: A Wheeler Siblings Ficlet

Currently Being Posted WIPs:

> Below The Fold: Fallout 4, Canon Divergent, Piper Wright x F!Sole Survivor, Currently being posted;

A half-dead vaultdweller shows up at the gates of Diamond City, saving Piper from being trapped outside by a spiteful mayor. This both greatly simplifies and complicates Piper's life as she chases after the story of how and why and who this woman even is. And, along the way, Piper finds that, in order to truly know someone, she has to be willing to be known herself.

> What’s On Your Mind (Pure Energy): Stranger Things, Byler, ST2 divergence, 1988-89;

A movie night, a DnD campaign, a Halloween party, an unhappy compromise, a rejection, and a letter. Mike and Will spend senior year trying to navigate the past, the future, and a growing tension between them that threatens to upend their friendship. (A Post-ST2 AU)

Planned WIPs:

> A Strange Education: Stranger Things, ST3 AU/Divergence, Byler, No Vecna, No Russians, ST4 didn't happen, Begins in 1986. Most active current draft/currently in the writing stage. 3-part series:

Part 1: A Paper Cut For Two (Summer 1986) - After a difficult freshman year, Mike learns that the Byers will be returning to Hawkins for the summer so that Joyce can fix a legal issue with El’s inheritance from Hopper. With his parents fighting more than ever, Nancy navigating her upcoming move to college, and his friend group full of tension, Mike dreads the return of the two people that he has probably let down the most since last year.

Part 2: All The Dead Leaves (Winter 1986-87) - After burning every remaining bridge in his life, Mike suddenly finds himself face to face with a threat he can’t handle alone. Thrust back together by extenuating circumstances, Mike navigates his tricky relationships with his former friends as they battle against a force that threatens to completely destroy Hawkins without the help of El’s long-gone powers.

Part 3: Why Our Bodies Even Lay Here - Mike wakes up alone on a highway in the middle of nowhere after narrowly escaping death. Disoriented and afraid, Mike calls the last person he thought he’d ever reach out to again.

> Go West, Young Man: Stranger Things, 1890s Old West AU, Byler, Elumax, Jancy, Jopper, currently in the worldbuilding/outlining stage, (Still in the worldbuilding process for this one, don't have a blurb yet)

> Unison: Fallout 4, Extremely canon-divergent, Piper Wright x F!Sole Survivor, currently in the outlining stage; Nora wakes up in the Institute 200 years after the world ended, but finds that her son is not who she thought, and the world above far more complicated than she had been led to believe. Leaving the Institute, Nora returns to her home and tries to bury the past, but a chance encounter with a passing Minuteman changes the course of her life- and greatly complicates it.

> Cyclebreaker: Stranger Things, Hopper POV, Post-series, partially written at the moment; Hopper adjusts to being a father figure for Will and Jonathan, despite his hang ups from his own childhood, but finds himself in over his head when he accidentally finds out something about Will that he wasn’t supposed to know.

> The Way: Stranger Things, Byler, currently in the outlining stage; Mike reconnects with Will 20 years after defeating Vecna, but the scars left behind run deep. As they navigate reconnecting, they must choose to face the past and what drove them away from each other and from their hometown in order to come back together.

> Violent Angles: Stranger Things, ST2 divergence, 1988, Vaguely inspired by The Edge of Seventeen (1998), currently early in the writing stage; Mike gets a summer job, learns more about himself than he ever planned to, and has to deal with the consequences of the truth on everyone around him.

#my posts #my writing

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multisfabulis · 1 year

Text

A Common Rarity

An Icy Reunion (Chapter 1/7)

Word Count: 4378

Hello to all my readers! Yes, I am finally back to post this and I apologize for the long wait!

Believe me when I say I didn't plan on taking almost 4 months to post my first fic of the year but life has a funny way of showing how cruel it can be to me. As I explained on Twitter, my hard drive suddenly died on me way back in February and, due to me not having any backups available, I couldn't begin writing this until after I had my files recovered, which included the outline and rough draft for this fic. I literally finished writing the first chapter's draft the night before everything happened so I was doubly upset! So, after almost a month of settling everything IRL, I was finally able to sit down and do the process of editing and revising the chapter before sending it off to my beta reader and letting them do their magic. It took a while but that's how we got here!

So! This fic is pretty much Ferreth's version of TRFBD was to Ven. He's going to be confronting his abusers and dealing with his self-worth issues in this, with the help of his now-girlfriend Ven! I have been wanting to write this for so long, especially since this is taking place a couple years in the future after MZCR, the first fic to show Verreth being a couple, and I'm finally able to add more to Ferreth's character that isn't just him being a simp or being down over his perceived lack of value (Yes, I know LTL did a similar job to that but this is centered on and will be mostly written in his POV, unlike LTL, so it's not quite the same!). I can only say that I hope you all will enjoy reading this up to the last chapter whenever it is written!

One last thing is that the first chapter was beta'd by my friend rosemaryblues! They did a lot of work in trimming this down and making it flow better so please show them some appreciation! As always, thank you for helping me!

Read on AO3 | Read on DeviantArt | Support me on Ko-fi!

He could hardly believe it. He never thought he’d be here again, not after what happened seven years ago. A part of him wanted to turn heel and run while another kept him rooted to in place. It was no use. He may as well just accept the truth that was staring him right in the face.

Ferreth was back “home” again.

Thesriden seemed to be how he left it that night. The same cobblestone roads covered in snow, the same black lamp posts that dotted the sidewalk on main street, the same charmingly garish shops welcoming passerbys with warm glows from the inside. It was exactly like how he remembered it. Even the many paths that climbed up and around the surrounding mountains had remained as they were. Everything looked to be unchanged from his memories, to the point it was uncanny.

His heart pounded in his ears. Shivers ran down his spine, but he wasn’t cold in the least. His vision began to fade in and out as the biting chill in the air caused the ache in his arms to flare up in pain. All the thoughts rushing through his head were screaming at him to run; to run and never look back---

“Ferret? Are you okay?”

A familiar voice broke through his mind’s cacophony. His eyes turned towards Ven, who appeared to be studying him. Her brows were furrowed in concentration as she stood in front of him, and she reached a gloved hand out to touch his cheek.

“Are you with me now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Seeing the worry across her face snapped him out of his stupor. He took her hand in his and tried to steady his breathing. He was beginning to understand just a little of how she felt when they arrived in Thal Esari a couple years ago. God, how did she make it look so easy back then?

“You’re back.” Her gaze softened as the corners of her mouth curled up into a tiny smile. “I’m glad. You had that far-off look in your eyes, the one I usually get when I remember something bad.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he apologized, bringing her fingers up to his lips. He didn’t want to upset her more than he already had. “I’m all right now, though, so don’t worry about me, okay?”

“...Okay.”

He needed to be better. He couldn’t have Ven worrying herself sick just because he couldn’t handle being back here. He either had to suck it up or deal with it in a way she wouldn’t be capable of noticing.

“So,” Ven started with renewed vigor, “now that we’re here, what’s the first order of business?”

“Hmm…” Despite needing to find a place to stay, he had something else in mind. “Let’s go see my old man. I wanna get this over with sooner rather than later.”

“All right, then. Lead the way.”

So they began the long trek up to Ferreth’s childhood home. People stared at them as they walked past, some directed at him but almost all eyes were on Ven. Vlixeoxs were believed by many Dradnach to be fairy tales, scary stories to tell to children in order to spook them into being on their best behavior. She would be the first, and likely only one they’d see in their lifetimes. Her grip on his hand tightened in response to this. It was due to this that he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and brought her close. That sent a message and it was one they all read loud and clear.

His mind kept replaying the events that led up to them being here today. It was only a month or so ago now Bris had flown down to Aurora Zenith to deliver some serious news to him. His father had fallen ill and it was unclear whether he’d pull through or not. Although apparently he was alive and kicking by the time Bris received word of it, he still thought it was urgent enough to tell Ferreth of it. It was certainly a surprise to hear about what had happened.

Yet he found the whole situation strange. Why did he care whether his father lived or died? It was that man’s fault that Ferreth grew up to have such low fucking self-esteem. Both his and Kandorinth. So why did he even feel some need to care?

Maybe raising a little girl of his own was beginning to make him see things differently.

Whatever the case may be, here he was. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. There were plenty of ways he imagined this trip to be going, all of which ended pretty badly for him. At least Ven was here to help him through this.

It wasn’t even a question of whether she wanted to come with him or not. The moment he informed her of this, she was asking him when they could leave, and if they should bring Ammy along.

It was then he understood what she meant. When she had asked him to come with her to Thal Esari for her own quest, she said it was because he gave her the courage she lacked. Those words rang out in his head and he took them to heart. Much like how he was her rock back then, she was his for the now.

Eventually, after walking several miles up one of the steeper paths, they arrived at their destination; a quaint stone cabin on a little ledge that jutted out the side of the mountain, giving its residents a rather impressive view of Thesriden below. Black smoke billowed out of the chimney atop the roof as dim orange light glowed from within the house. The steps leading up to the front door looked like they had seen better days. This was certainly a sight for sore eyes, though it seemed almost smaller than he’d remembered.

The stairs creaked beneath their feet as they walked up to the door. With anxiety toiling in his stomach, he rapped his knuckles against the wood one, two, three times before stopping. It didn’t take long for him to pick up on the sound of someone shuffling around inside and that got his mind racing.

Who was going to be on the other side of the door? Would it be his father or Kandorinth? He could handle his father but if it was his brother? God, he might as well just hightail the hell outta there while he still could.

“It’ll be okay, Ferreth.” He felt Ven squeeze his hand gently. It was only then he realized he was trembling. “No matter what happens in there, I’ll be by your side, okay? So don’t worry.”

Cracking a smile for the first time since they entered Thesriden, he held her hand as tightly as he could.

The door swung open. Behind it was an older man with light brown skin similar to his own, short blond hair streaked with gray, and sharp gray eyes. He had white stubble all along his jaw and mouth, a surprising change to the full beard he usually sported. He wasn’t the only one who changed over the course of seven years. Despite all of this though, Norvicross looked good for a Dradnach in his nineties.

Their eyes met. He watched his father’s gaze shift from confusion to recognition to finally shock as he realized who was standing right in front of him.

“F-Ferreth?” His voice sounded older, raspier. “You’re here.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s been a while.” The words came out stilted as he struggled to find something else to say. “How have you been?”

Clearing his throat, Norvicross replied stiffly, “Good! Good. Um, what brings you out here? I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Bris told me you got sick a while back, said it was pretty bad. I wanted to come see you so…”

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come back!” He let out a nervous laugh before falling silent, effectively bringing the conversation to a standstill.

God, this was painfully awkward. It wasn’t like he was going to be a sparkling conversationalist throughout this meeting, but this was worse than he thought. Maybe he should’ve prepared more for this…

“Ah, I see you have someone with you!” He felt Ven jump slightly beside him as his father grasped at a new avenue of talk. “What’s your name, miss?”

“Oh, um, I-I am Venlithea Virthana--” she gave a respectful bow before continuing on, “--though most people just call me Ven. I’m Ferreth’s girlfriend.”

“Hmm, he sure knows how to pick ‘em. I must say, though, I don’t think I’ve seen an elf quite like you before.”

“That’s because she’s a, um…Vlixeox.”

“Oh. Well. Hmm.”

He didn’t think it was possible for things to be worse than they already were but he was wrong.

“How about you two come inside? I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Norvicross stepped aside to let the pair in. They walked into a small (by Dradnach standards anyway) living room that felt even more cramped due to the sheer amount of things lying around everywhere. In front of the lit fireplace was an upholstered emerald coloured sofa, two similar-looking chairs on either side of it. The one on the left seemed to be extremely worn while the other was practically spotless. Above the mantel was a family portrait, depicting a much younger Norvicross. A woman sat beside him, her warm smile highlighted by the fireplace. He and his brother were seated on their laps, their smiles equally as bright.

Ferreth’s heart ached upon seeing his mother. It had been almost a decade since her death. She had looked so healthy, and so happy back then. Visiting her resting place was another thing he needed to do while he was here. It’d be nice to tell her of everything that’s happened.

As they all sat down, Norvicross commented to Ven, “You know, in all my years, I never thought I’d see someone like you, much less meet one. Frankly, I didn’t think your kind existed!”

“You wouldn’t be the first to say something like that,” she remarked with a nervous giggle.

“Forgive me if I’m asking for too much but would you mind showing me what you can do? I’m quite curious!”

“Oh, well, uh, o-okay.” She took a deep breath in and held out her hand. Wisps of darkness trailed down her arm before forming something resembling a small ball in her palm. It then began to flicker in and out like smoldering embers in a dying fire. “Is this okay?”

Taken aback by the display of power, Norvicross leaned in to start inspecting it from every angle. “Now that is an extraordinary power, young lady.” Once Norvicross’ curiosity had been sated, he returned to his seat. “I hope you’ll show me more of that during your stay here.”

“Oh, I-I-I don’t know if that would be…”

“Can you just cut the crap already?” interrupted Ferreth, who was this close to leaving the house in a huff. “Ven and I are tired, and if we’re just here to trade fake pleasantries then we might as well go.”

“...Right.” Norvicross sat up straight and cleared his throat. “I understand you’ve come all this way, and it wouldn’t be right to just merely entertain…” The older Dradnach paused, his eyes sullen. “I know it must have been hard, just coming to face me, and well…--”

“--Ferreth…I’m sorry.”

He was…sorry?

For what?

For being a shitty father? Not loving him the way he was supposed to?

Ferreth couldn’t remember the last time his father apologized to him. He couldn’t even remember if he’d ever apologized to him. What was going through his head right now?

“I realize that many of the things I said and did to you as a child were just, well, completely unacceptable. I should’ve been better,” Norvicross confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.

After letting what he said sink in, Ferreth asked sardonically, “How long has it taken you to figure that out, huh?”

“Too long. If I really had to put a time to it, I’d say it was…around the time you left Thesriden. I’m just surprised you came back after everything.”

“Oh, that makes two of us, believe me.”

“Listen, Ferreth, I want to make it up to you. I know no amount of groveling or begging will erase the years of pain I put you through. You’re my son and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.” He breathed in deep before continuing on. “I want to do right by you so…would you care to tell me everything you’ve been through on your journey? I want to know what you’ve been up to since you left.”

He sounded genuine enough. However, Ferreth knew better than to take his father on his word. Sure, he seemed to have acknowledged his wrongdoings and the effect they had on him growing up but did he really mean it? Or was he only doing this to alleviate the guilt he felt? Ferreth didn’t know what to believe.

But there was only one way to find out.

“I won’t force you to do that if you’re not interested, though. I’m just---”

“All right, all right,” Ferreth stopped him from floundering any further. Admittedly, he liked seeing his father struggle with his words. “Pick a time and place, then we’ll talk.”

“...Thank you, Ferreth, I---”

“But I’m saying it now, if I find that you really haven’t changed over the past few years, then I’m gone. I’m not putting myself through that shit again.”

With a slow nod, Norvicross simply said, “I understand.”

He was drawing the line here. He already spent seventeen years being demeaned, belittled, and mocked by both his father and Kandorinth and he refused to give them any more of his time. Things were going to be different, whether they liked it or not.

Norvicross showed them to the door and bade them farewell with promises to meet up again sometime in the near future. Then they set off for the next stop, with Ferreth feeling mildly surprised that the reunion went as smoothly as it did.

The next order of business was checking in at the inn. It was a place that, by virtue of it being high up in the mountains and its clientele being fellow Dradnach, could rent out small cabins to visitors instead of rooms like most other inns. It gave them more privacy and space to work with, along with other little bonuses like extra storage, and a sense of peace and tranquility. Not even Thornewind had something like this during his time living there.

With night quickly descending upon them, they needed to hurry and get themselves settled in. If he was remembering correctly, the cabins came stocked with pre-packaged meals in case of emergencies. Still, with how long they’d been traveling up till now, they were exhausted. He was almost tempted to go without dinner but---

“Ah, I see you’ve returned, Ferra.”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Memories of that night flashed in his mind. A fist flying through the air to strike, snow whipping around him, ice seeping into his veins, his slit eyes. He could never forget the sheer agony he felt as thousands of tiny pinpricks stabbed his arms, right down to the very bone. He begged and pleaded for death to take him then, all in hopes it’d stop the pain.

Everything blurred together in a haze. He gasped for air as a dying man would, his hands clutching at his chest to relieve himself of the anguish he felt. Ven calling out to him barely registered in his mind, her voice growing more and more distant the louder his heart pounded.

Cold.

So cold.

He had to run.

He needed to run.

Why couldn’t he run?

Why couldn’t he move?!

But it was too late. A hand clapped his shoulder and he knew it was over.

Entering his line of sight was a familiar man. Striking blue eyes bore into his, disdain rising beneath with a tight frown. It felt like they were peering straight into Ferreth’s soul.

God, Kandorinth hadn’t changed one fucking bit.

“Are you not going to say hi to your brother, Ferra?” Kandorinth asked, his frown twisting into a dubious smirk. “It’s been about seven years, hasn’t it?”

He tried with all his might to force the words out but they just wouldn’t come to him. It was as if someone had stolen his voice, rendering him speechless.

“Oh, what’s the matter, wyvern got your tongue?” Kandorinth scoffed, his eyes never once leaving Ferreth’s as he took a step forward. “I gotta say, it’s strange not hearing you prattle on and on about---”

“Ah, you must be Kandorinth! You know, Ferreth’s told me so much about you since we arrived here!” Ven chimed in, putting herself between the two men.

As if noticing for the first time she was there, Kandorinth narrowed his gaze at her. “And who on earth are you supposed to be?”

“I’m Venlithea. I’m Ferreth’s girlfriend,” she replied. She giggled rather uncharacteristically, angling herself to look up at him. “You’ll have to excuse him, we’ve come a long way to get here and he’s feeling a little tired.”

Her name was stuck in his throat. He wished he could tell her to not engage with him, to not put herself on Kandorinth’s radar. He knew his brother wasn’t above using violence to achieve his goals, and she’d be the perfect target.

If only he wasn’t so weak, then this wouldn’t be happening!

“I see…” Kandorinth backed up a little and folded his arms across his chest, his smile only getting wider. “So tell me, Ferra.” He tilted his head towards his brother. “What made you decide to come back home? I thought you had all but abandoned us.”

“We got news that his father had fallen ill a little while ago and we wanted to come see him. Is that a problem?” Ven tilted her own head to obscure Kandorinth’s vision, causing him to blink in surprise.

“No…but I didn’t think he cared at all about Father. I mean, what kind of son runs out on his family for seven years, telling them nothing of his whereabouts or why he left them in the first place?”

“Well, that’s why we’re here. Ferreth feels really bad about leaving you and he wanted to make amends for that. We would’ve come up sooner but he just didn’t know when would be the right time. He’s really sorry and he hopes you’ll forgive him, right, sweetheart?”

“Is she right, Ferreth? Did you really come back home to make amends with me and Father?”

“Like I said, he’s really-”

“I’d suggest you keep quiet while we’re talking, Thea.”

Anger stirred from within Ferreth. It was one thing for Kandorinth to treat him like crap but he had absolutely no right to even be speaking to Ven. It was this that, despite the terror currently strangling him, had him mutter through gritted teeth,

“It’s as she said. We’re here to make amends. Nothing more, nothing less.”

A moment passed before Kandorinth sneered. “It’s nice hearing your voice again, Ferra, especially after we exchanged such harsh words the last time we talked.”

That was one hell of a way to put it. The ache in his arms flared up as he remembered the events that transpired that night.

“Well, I think we’ve done enough catching up for now, wouldn’t you say?” With yet another smirk, Kandorinth took a few steps back and turned in the direction from which they came from. “I’ll be seeing you again, Ferra. I look forward to hearing about all your little…exploits. Until then!”

With that, he turned on his heel and left. They watched him go further and further down the road till he was but a speck in the distance before he disappeared completely. It was then Ferreth dropped to one knee.

“Fuck…” he panted, “I--I can’t breathe…”

Ven knelt down in front of him, taking his face into her hands and asking, “Hey, hey, Ferreth, look at me, okay? Look at me, what’s going on? What do you need? Do you need to sit down?”

A weak nod spurred her into action. After helping him up to his feet, she threw his arm over her shoulders. Finding a set of wooden benches nearby, she sat him down, brushing the hair from his face. “Are you okay now? Do you need anything?”

“Just…stay with me, please…”

Nothing more needed to be said between them. She simply took his hands in hers and held them while he tried to steady his breathing. He’d inhale, hold for a few seconds, then exhale and repeat the process. His heart eventually stopped racing and his mind slowly cleared.

Winding his arms around her, he dropped his head onto Ven’s chest and murmured, “Sorry, I didn’t know it would get that bad.”

She breathed a sigh of relief before doing the same, carding her fingers through his hair in a soothing gesture. “So long as you’re okay. What happened back there? I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Let’s just say the last time me and Kandorinth talked, it didn’t end so well.” He pressed his ear against her chest. Her heart rang steady, comforting, and he let out a small sigh. “It…wasn’t good.”

“We don’t have to stay here, you know? We could just leave right now and no one would know.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work. Besides, it took us three weeks to get here and I don’t want the time we spent traveling to be wasted.”

“But that doesn’t mean you should suffer while we’re up here!” She lifted his face to look at hers. “You may be the strongest person I know but even you have your limits, so please--” she stroked a thumb along his cheek. “--don’t feel like you need to be brave for me, okay?”

This brought back memories of when they went to Thal Esari for her own journey and how he was saying much the same things she was to her. The quiet resolve in her eyes, the determination she had to see her quest through to the end; they were things he both envied and admired her for. So, as terrified as he was being back here again, he was going to follow her example and face his past head-on.

He would not let his father and Kandorinth run him out of town again.

Pulling back, he reached a hand out to cup her cheek. “I know and I’ll be okay. So long as you’re here with me.” He gave her a small smile. “Things are different now and I’m not the same person I was back then. I’m not going to be cowed into running away with my tail between my legs.”

“What are you going to do then?” she asked insistently. “What if Kandorinth tries to go after you? I don’t want you getting hurt because of him.”

“Well, I don’t think he’s stupid enough to try anything. He may be an asshole but he’s not dumb. Still, I want you to be careful around him. I know you can take care of yourself and all but---”

“Oh, if he tries anything, I will kick his ass. He may be a big, scary dragon but I’ve faced scarier things than him. He’s got nothing on me.”

With this, his face broke into a grin. “Thanks, Ven.”

He leaned down to kiss her before he drew her into a tight embrace, a gesture she returned by nestling her cheek into his stomach and wrapping her arms around his waist.

It was moments like these that reminded him of how strong she was, contrary to her petite stature. She may have presented herself as this soft, delicate waif of a girl but he’d seen the tough, firm might she had underneath. She was able to handle both a glaive and heavy gardening equipment with ease, not to mention her prowess and finesse over her ability to control darkness. She was a miniature powerhouse, and that was one of the many things he loved about her.

Kandorinth wouldn’t do anything to them, that much he knew. But if he was ballsy enough to try, Ferreth was fully confident in Ven’s ability to win. She would kick his ass six ways to Sunday and he’d revel in it.

That’d definitely be the show of a lifetime.

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Soon, they arrived at the inn. With a key in hand, he and Ven made their way over to the cabin they’d be staying in for a few days. The moment they stepped inside, they were greeted by a pleasant, cozy warmth the room seemed to emanate. There was wood paneling on the walls and the floor was made entirely out of a dark hardwood that creaked with each footfall. The living room, dining room, and kitchen were all in the same area, with only a meter or so of empty space dividing them into each of their own separate sections, and an enormous fireplace sat in the back.

A narrow hallway off to the right led to a small bedroom that had a king-sized bed and an armoire. Next door to it was an equally-sized bathroom, with a large vanity that had two sinks attached to it, a claw-footed tub, and a separate chamber containing a modernized garderobe.

Ferreth sighed, flopping down backwards on the bed. He didn’t think he’d be back in Thesriden again. On that night, seven years ago, he swore up and down he’d never return, not after all the things his father and brother did to him. Yet here he was, jumping on the meager chance things might’ve changed between them in his absence. Was he being too naive, too foolish in giving them this opportunity to prove that things would be different?

He didn’t know.

Whatever the case may be, the next few days were going to be interesting. Very interesting, indeed…

#airi's writing #oc; Ferreth #oc; Venlithea #oc; Norvicross #oc; Kandorinth #Corona's Shadow

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silver-tongued-bby · 3 years

Text

Devotion - Part I

Pairing: Dark!Loki x Nun!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dark!Loki fic and it explores sexual and dark religious (catholic) themes, including mind control (paralysis), loss of faith, oral sex (m and f receiving), loss of virginity, knife play, blood play, dirty talk, a dom/sub relationship, and general blasphemy. Read at your own risk!!

Words: 3,668

Summary: You chose to devout yourself to God. But did you choose the right one?

A/N: If there is a hell, I think I'll be going straight to it for this one. Please remember this is a work of fiction- if you take issue with the themes mentioned above, please do not interact.

...

It was late when you finished your prayers- much later than usual. You’d stayed by the chancel, kneeling on the soft velvet of the hassock well beyond the sunset, your Sisters excusing themselves one by one. The votive candles were mostly out by the time you stood on shaky legs, the feeling slowly coming back to them as you extinguished the remaining flames.

You sighed, hoping that the twelve hours of prayer today would be enough to rid yourself of the dream. Walking behind the altar, you turned off the lights. Things were still somewhat illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight coming through the stained glass.

Moving back around the altar towards the nave you stopped, seeing the outline of a figure before you, your heartbeat in your ears as you held a palm to your chest. You tilted your head, blinking furiously in the darkness, attempting to make sense of the form. It looked like a person- a man, standing by the open doors. Must be a trick of the light, you thought as you squinted in an attempt to make out the tall shadow.

Sighing, you gingerly stepped down the altar’s carpeted stairs to slowly approach the form, keeping your eyes on it. Suddenly, you stopped, the hairs standing on end at the back of your neck. This was how the dream started. A figure- a dark figure is what you’d see before it would float towards you, wrapping you up in its darkness and consuming you whole. You’d wake gasping for air, your eyes wet with tears.

You took a deep breath, chastising yourself for your foolishness. You were awake, and the dark mass in front of you was likely a shadow from outside, or the coat rack, or the monstrance- Sister Anne always left the monstrance out after she buffed it.

Shaking your head, you stepped down onto the cold stone floor. Then you thought you saw the figure move. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears as you stopped once more, trying to make out the shapes in the shadow. You attempted to calm yourself down- you were awake, this wasn’t a dream. Besides, in the dream you always heard that laugh- the dark, velvety laugh ringing out in the silence. There was no laugh now.

You pinched yourself for good measure, nodding when you felt the pain, ensuring that this was not a dream. Huffing, you decided to speed-walk down the nave, your steps ringing out as you approached the shadow.

You were about four paces away when you finally saw the glint of two eyes in the moonlight. You gasped and scrambled backwards, the figure before you now clear.

“At last.” A voice- the voice from your dream. It was deep, dark velvet ringing out through the silence. A sliver of moonlight was hitting two green eyes, illuminating pale skin and a dark brow. You could see the inky, black hair that fell around his face in waves.

You were stunned, and wanted so desperately to turn and run but you couldn’t bring your body to move. You opened your mouth to scream but no sound came out, just like the dream. You began reciting The Apostles Creed in your mind, attempting to calm yourself and awake from whatever this was.

The familiar deep chuckle hit your ears. “Your prayer falls on deaf ears, little one. As they always have.” He stepped closer, then slowly circled your paralysed form.

Undeterred, you kept praying, shouting each word within your mind at the presence before you.

A hand came to grip your face firmly, long fingers digging into your delicate skin. “No more of that, little one.” With that, your thoughts were silenced. Held in place like the rest of you.

Your breath was loud against the silence, shaky puffs coming in and out as the entity observed you. You were struck by the beauty of this presence, his chiseled face more breathtaking than the paintings of Christ. He stood tall, before you, lithe figure covered in a crisp black suit.

“Your god has long since abandoned you. All of you, worshipping an entity who simply flicked the switch to humanity, who left once the beginnings had been set in motion.” He let his hand fall from your face and circled you once more.

“Yet you continue to pray, to worship, to adore him. And this Jesus Christ you vow yourself to,” he laughed pitifully, “a mortal. Long gone.”

“So much work, so much devotion, to an absent god. A god who cannot solve your problems, empower you, or answer your prayers.” He stopped in front of you and reached to pull at the veil covering your head, letting it drop to the floor. Tears were welling up in your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“Beautiful,” he breathed against your ear, “what god would ask for such beauty to be hidden away, like a dirty, little secret? What god would tell their most devout followers to vow themselves to never be touched,” he lightly traced your cheekbone with his knuckle, “be pleasured by another?”

His eyes searched yours for a moment, and you felt the hold on you release. “You may answer,” he watched you as you blinked and shivered, a tear falling down either of your heated cheeks.

“You can’t know that- that He isn’t with us,” you frowned at him, your voice small.

He gave you a pitying look, his head tilting slightly. “Oh but I do, little one. And so do you.” He clasped his hands behind his back, regarding you darkly. “You prayed to your god for twelve hours this day, ten hours each day before. I heard you. I watched you.”

Your eyes widened. How could he have known? How long has he been watching you?

“A long time, little one. I heard you praying to your god to take away the dream I sent you. The dream foretelling you of my arrival.” He circled you again, leaning in to speak close- so close to your ear. You shivered. He could read your thoughts.

His mouth quirked upwards in acknowledgement before he continued. “If your god is with you, why did he not answer your prayers and protect you from me?”

“I- He must be testing me,” you said, the tears still falling.

“If your god is here with us, why is he not striking me down for standing on his ground? Speaking such blasphemy, in his own house?”

“I- I don’t know,” you said, a quiet sob shaking you. You felt alone, scared, and lost. If He was not with you, how could you carry on devoting yourself to Him? Was any of this His will? Or were all the rituals, the sacraments, fabricated by man?

You’d been having doubts for a while- since the dreams started. Instead of opening up to your sisters about it you held your tongue. Saying it out loud would have made it all so real. As it is now.

“Hush now, little one. Tears won’t do a thing.” He touched under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

You felt defeated and betrayed by the cause you’d so devoted yourself to. Pointless. What were you to do now? Without your faith you had nothing, no one.

“You started down the wrong path.” His eyes were locked with yours, a glint of something beneath the blue-green. “I can help you correct it. Worship me, and I’ll hear your prayers. Devote yourself to me, and I’ll answer them. Adore me,” he brushed his finger tips across your lips, “and I’ll empower you.”

You felt a thrill with his words, his actions, and his darkening stare. “What must I do?” You asked, your heart racing.

“Get on your knees.”

You knelt in front of him, bowing your head to his towering form, your hands clasped together in your lap.

“Eyes on me. Always.” He said, and you brought your face up to meet his stare. Before you were fully aware of what was happening he’d taken himself out, his hardened member before you.

Your eyes widened at it- you’d never seen a phallus up close in person. The vow you took promised yourself to your lord. You weren’t even supposed to touch a man, and had stuck to that for the majority of your life. You were nervous, unsure of what to do, how to please this dark entity before you. You also realised you’d never even asked him his name.

He chuckled darkly. “I am known to many as Loki, but you may call me Master. Now, bring yourself closer to me.” You leant forward. “Good. Open your mouth, little one.”

You did as you were told and he laid his thick member over your tongue, the taste of his skin salty, his heady scent enveloping you.

“Use your lips and tongue to worship me. Show me your devotion,” he angled his hips forward so more of his length filled your mouth.

You kept your eyes on his as you started to run your tongue along him, pursing your lips slightly. You took him deeper until he hit the back of your throat, which made you gag, tears springing to your eyes.

“Relax, little one. Breathe through your nose,” you did as you were told, consciously relaxing the muscle at the back of your throat. You found you could take him further, more of him pressing into you as your saliva dribbled around your lips.

“Good,” his voice sounded deeper, a small edge to it. He grasped your head, his nails lightly scraping against your scalp, bringing a little hum from you at the sensation. He twitched at that, and you took note, humming and groaning around him as he began to move you back and forth over his length.

His lips were apart as he moved you over him, his eyes running over your features. The lustful approval of his gaze made your heart flutter, and your core ache. You were so pleased to serve him, to have a God you could so tangibly show your devotion to. You wanted him to use you, use your body and soul for his pleasure.

He grunted, teeth clenched as his grip against your scalp became harsher. His hips stuttered and he groaned, his warm essence spilling into your mouth and down your throat. You were filled with pride to receive his seed, eagerly swallowing and revelling in the taste. You cleaned him off, his length remaining hard as he watched you work below him.

“Very good, little one.” He removed his hands from your scalp, gently brushing the hollows of your cheeks as you continued to suck his length. “What do you say after such a gift?” He asked.

You let him fall from your mouth, licking your lips. “Thank you, Master.” You said breathlessly.

He nodded at you in approval then motioned you to stand from the cool stone floors. You stood on shaky legs and he held up one hand, palm upwards. You tentatively put your hand in his and he gripped it lightly as he guided you towards the altar.

Once up the steps, he turned to you and in a flash of green he held a dagger. He hooked the blade into your tunic, tearing the fabric as he brought it downwards. The linen opened to expose the virginal white of your underwear. He pushed the cloth off your shoulders, letting the tunic fall to the ground. He did the same with your underwear, tearing the soft white fabric of your bra and panties to shreds, leaving you naked before the altar. He flipped the knife in his hand, catching it before disappearing it in another flash of green.

“Present yourself to me,” his eyes were busy running over your exposed skin.

“Yes Master,” you said, moving up against the altar before settling upon it and spreading your legs, exposing yourself to the cool air. You laid back, looking up at him from heavy-lidded eyes. Remembering all the times you’d prayed staring up at this altar made you ache for your new Master, needing him to feel your worship.

“So wet and needy for me,” he brushed a knuckle over your heat, forcing a shudder from you. “Though since it’s your first time, I will ready your body to take me.”

“Thank you Master,” you said again, resting on your elbow so you could maintain his gaze.

He smirked at you and bent a knee to bring his face closer to your heat. Your muscles twitched in anticipation as he lowered his gaze to your wet heat, his hands sliding up from your calves to your thighs, stopping so they could grip your tightly.

“Have you ever been touched here by another, little one? Kissed?” He asked, his breath ghosting over your heat.

You swallowed, shaking your head. “No, Master. N-never.”

“So pure,” his eyes ran over you before capturing your gaze once more. “Have you ever touched yourself here?”

You cast your eyes downwards, “yes, Master.” You whispered, feeling shame bubble within you, your face hot.

His hands tightened around your thighs. “Look at me,” he commanded, and you quickly met his gaze. “Never feel ashamed for taking your pleasure. Worship me through it. Give into your pleasure, give into me.” He licked a slow stripe up your folds, and you cried out, your back arching against the hard wood of the altar.

From the angle of your gaze you could see the crucifix, inverted at your position. Blinking your eyes up at the sculpture of Christ, you felt your Master’s tongue swirl over your bundle of nerves and you moaned, still gazing up at the crucifix, as if you were expecting it to come to life.

You heard a low chuckle. “I told you. He’s long gone, little one.” Your brow furrowed- you still felt your Master’s tongue over your centre, hot and wet. How could you hear him?

“Look at me,” you heard his voice once more and pulled yourself up on your elbows to meet his icy gaze as he dipped a finger within you, causing you to shudder. “Do not question. Surrender,” he curled the finger on a spot that had you seeing stars, “surrender to me.”

You nodded, licking your dry lips as you panted. You were close. His hand was pressing hard into your thigh, while the other was quickly moving in and out of you, his tongue moving in tandem. “Let me feel your euphoria, little one. Let me drink it from your very soul.”

It was all so much, the feel of his fingers within you, the flick of his tongue against your most sensitive part. You were lightly moaning, the sound of your voice and his ministrations echoing off the stone of the church. His eyes were cold steel, demanding your gaze as he steadily stoked the fire within you, the flames licking at your skin.

“Oh! Oh my…” you trailed off, “God.” He finished darkly, and you came undone, writhing against the altar. As you rode out the waves of your high you whispered, “thank you Master,” over and over in prayer, your eyes slipping to those of blue-green below.

“Very good, little one. You’re ready to take me now. To feel me deep within you.” He pulled his fingers from you and stood, eyes roaming over your naked form. He ran one finger, wet with your excitement down from the hollow of your throat to the soft tufts of hair between your legs and you shivered, the cool air kissing the trail he’d left.

Smirking down at you he gripped himself, coming closer to run the head of his length up against your dripping core. You inhaled sharply, your hand gripping the wood of the altar below.

“You were built for worship. Body and soul,” he spoke, his voice rough. He slowly pushed in an inch, your channel tight around him. You squirmed, feeling a sharp pain as he continued to push in.

“Relax. Deep breath, little one.” You did as you were told, filling your lungs with air and he slid the rest of the way in on your exhale. The pain turned sharper still, and you whined, your breaths quick and pained.

“That’s it. Don’t cry,” he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “It will feel better soon. But I need you to feel the pain. I need you to feel me stretch you, to feel me break you.” His eyes went to the skin where your bodies met, where he was stretching you, holding still while you desperately tried to relax your muscles, your nails digging into the wood of the altar.

He brought his hand down, swiping around your folds. Bringing his fingers before you, you could see they were wet with slick and bright red with your blood. He brought his fingers to your lips and swiped them over your tender skin. He bent to kiss you, his tongue running along your lips. He hummed at the taste before kissing you deeply, the metallic-tinged taste lingering in your mouth.

He started to move his hips, pulling back out of you before coming forward. Your back arched, the pain mingling with some deep sort of pleasure as he began setting a pace. He moved to whisper foreign words over the shell of your ear.

You felt a warmth wash over you, the pain slipping away with it, leaving the pleasure. He came away from you, standing back up to his full height as he looked at you, his head tilted. “Does that feel better, little one?”

“Yes, Master,” you moaned, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. His hands gripped either side of your waist, long fingers pressing into the skin as he continued to move with you.

“That’s it little one, worship me as I fuck you. Worship me as I taint you.” He continued to thrust into you, the stained glass windows of the church framing his dark figure. He gave a little flick with his fingers in the air and you felt a pressure on you- similar to finger tips, gently rubbing at your clitoris. You cried out, and he bent forward to clasp his fingers over your wrists, pulling them upwards to hold them firmly on the altar over your head as he continued to thrust within you.

You were writhing against him, the soft, woven material of his suit rubbing up against your sensitive skin, the phantom touch still continuing below. He was grinning at you, the glint in his eyes that of pure sin as he watched you lose control. You came fully undone beneath him, giving in to the pleasure he was wringing from your body, every nerve alit with it. Your vision blurred slightly but you kept your eyes open, his smirk taunting you as you came thanking him at the top of your lungs.

The touch below had continued as you rode out your orgasm, coming back in full force once your breath settled. He moved to grip your wrists with one hand, the other coming to firmly grasp your jaw, pushing your face to the side. You felt his tongue against the shell of your ear and you cried out at the sensation. He chuckled lowly before taking your earlobe between his teeth, marring the flesh then running his tongue over the heated skin. Your breaths were quick puffs, your chest rising against his as he continued to nip, bite and lick at your skin.

“You will cum once more, little one. Cum for your Master and I will reward you,” he nipped at your earlobe once more, “I’ll fill you little one. Would you like that?” His voice was divine, the dark tone of it bending you to his every will.

“Y-yes please, Master, please fill me,” you stuttered, your hips arching towards his thrusts, angling you slightly off the altar.

He chuckled once more, “good. Now, little one,” he licked the skin beneath your earlobe, “cum now.” With that he bit you- you could feel his teeth break the skin of your neck as you moaned, the pain mingling with the pleasure sharply bringing your release. The pleasure electrified you, you couldn’t keep your body still as it fully overtook your every sense, clouding your vision.

As if it were far away you heard your Master moan. His muscles tensed against you, and you felt him twitch within you. As your breath returned he pulled out of you, stepping backwards to admire your form.

He smirked and brought two fingers to your dripping hole, swirling them in the wet there. Removing them, he traced a line down your chest in the slick, forcing a shudder from you.

He connected the vertical line with one horizontal, painting a cross over your breasts. You flinched when his fingers skimmed across your nipples, your body still overstimulated.

“Perfect,” he breathed, his hand moving to close his trousers.

His eyes falling back to you, he held a hand out towards you. You took it and he guided you to stand, the cum dripping down the insides of your thigh.

He snapped his fingers and suddenly you were clothed in a tight fitting tunic, the neckline low and the colour a rich emerald green. A golden pendant hung between your breasts, a small, detailed snake on the end with emeralds for eyes. You could still feel the cold wet slick on your chest and between your legs- he hadn’t given you any underwear. “That will do,” he nodded, “very fitting of a high priestess.”

He swiftly turned on his heel, heading down the steps and down the nave. Your heart beat loud and fast in your ears as you watched him walk away, unsure if he wanted you to follow. Stopping at the final pew he turned, long fingers of one hand beckoning you.

“Come along. You have work to do, little one.”

Part II here.

End Notes: There will be a part 2! Keep your eyes peeled- let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list.

I apologise if I got some aspects of the church wrong- I spent some time researching but I am in no way an expert.

Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.

And as always, thank you for reading!

#dark!loki x you #dark!loki x reader #dark!loki x you smut #dark!loki x reader smut #dom!loki x you #dom!loki x reader #dom!loki x you smut #dark!loki x nun!reader #bd/sm fic #dom!loki x sub!reader #loki smut #loki fic #bd/sm smut

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warmau · 3 years

Text

not knowing what to say isn't a foreign feeling to you, yet when you come face to face with ten outside his apartment on this summer morning, you are almost too petrified to even string a sentence together

he's really just........leaving

ten shines a big smile and from the open door you hear kun's exasperated voice asking why in the world ten is packing up his entire existence for a program that's going to last two months

"you look nervous"

ten jokes first, running a hand through his dark hair which he's spent the colder months growing out

"im the one going to a different country and yet you look like you might turn green"

his laughter tickles you and you force yourself out of the weird, frozen feeling, for his sake

"im not nervous - it's just this is our first summer apart since what, highschool?"

ten leans against the frame of his door and lets kun scuttle past him with a scowl

yangyang and hendery bounce after him with ten's insane amount of luggage

"yeah but it's two months, not two decades. plus....you know how much ive always wanted to do this."

right. and here you are being selfish.

"of course, i mean it's literally the birthplace of ballet."

"technically that's italy, but france is a close second."

"i hate you"

ten pulls you into his arms before you register that this is your goodbye hug

"i'll miss you too."

kun drives everyone to the airport, he complains and cries the most.

sicheng gives you a knowing look when ten takes your wrist in his hand and tucks your arm between his.

you ignore the look, and focus on ten. on him. and then - when the switchboard pops up his flight info - he gives a bubbly and excited

"ive gotta go!"

and then summer starts, just as he's gone

"so when are you going to tell him you're in love with him."

sicheng brings the big gulp he stole from hendery up to his lips and you keep your eyes closed behind your sunglasses

"sorry, yukhei's not my type."

"you know im not talking about yukhei."

you dig your fingers into the sand beside your towel, the beach is already so noisy so you pretend you don't hear sicheng, but you still feel him looking.

you guess a part of it is true, you love ten. who doesn't?

is that the core of the issue then, that ten is so available and loveable and charming, that it makes him also unattainable?

or at least, unattainable to you.

you hear your phone buzz inside your bag and sicheng is being dragged into the water by the rowdy rest of your friend group

it could be a text from ten?

your mind excites, but you put out that fire

it's probably just spam.

ten does text and even video call the first two or so weeks while he's away

you get blurry photos of food at cafes and the eiffel tower, random fancy looking dogs being walked on the small, cramped streets

ten's connection is kind of bad - but he still gleams through the fuzzy facetime camera as he shows you around the room the dance academy has provided

pangs of his happiness and excitement seep into you

and then there's the first sign of worry comes knocking and twirling through his door

a group of other dancers, all beautiful and strong, asking ten - from the limited amount of french you catch - if he's done, they're waiting for him to go to a show with them

ten gives you a scattered, quick goodbye. he says he'll video call again.

all you get is an update text almost five days later that has no pictures attached just a;

im ok - by the way i totally miss eating hot chips with you at midnight. ive had like a banana smoothie and that's it.

sicheng and kun are the first to pick up on the shift, you are quietly withdrawing to yourself

nothing makes you laugh

ten doesn't reply to your question about what the paris metro looks like, actually he doesn't even read it

kun nearly tugs hendery's ear red when he shares a snap story of ten pressed cheek to cheek with his new dancer friends in front of the louvre when you're in the same room

the thing is you are not jealous of any of them.

you don't go around trying to find their facebooks, clicking on their instagram profiles, comparing you and them.

you are just sad to your bones that they will understand ten in such a way that no matter how long you two have been friends

you will never, truly know

"you're his best friend"

sicheng reasons on the phone as you stare up at the wall above your desk, littered in old pictures and clippings and your gaze catches on the ticket stub from ten's first-ever solo dance performance

it had been a talent show in highschool.

it had been the first time you saw ten perform outside the corner of his cramped bedroom or the glimpse you caught meeting up with him outside the dance academy

he's in paris, he's with people who love it so much more than i do - they love dancing like he loves dancing.

i cannot understand that.

"i think you were right sicheng."

"im always right."

i do love him. when am i going to tell him?

you hang up after sicheng has his i told you so moment and stare at your screen

a notification flashes across the screen and it's a text from ten

the trains here are blue. i miss you.

you want to reply right away, so you open the message and start typing

i miss you too. actually, i think i finally understand why people who are in love are so hurt when they're suddenly left without their other half and ten you are my o-

you delete the sentence and make a face

nice. i miss you too.

you don't send it - or at least you forget to because your fingers are shaking and you exit out of the messaging app before checking

abandoning your phone, you turn on your side and stretch your hand out to reach the edge of the bed

there's enough space between you and it for someone to fit, so you remember the countless times ten has laid there

smiling and laughing and tickling your face with his sleeping breath

you can't even recall a conversation because there have been hundreds

suddenly you feel a warmth creep up your skin

hundreds of opportunities to tell him - and each time i chose to be a coward.

"you should write him a letter."

"this isn't a movie, what - you think im going to write a letter and he'll jump on the first plane from france to come to my side?"

sicheng cocks an eyebrow as if to say it is a possibility

"no. im not writing a letter. i'll suck it up and confess when he comes back."

you somehow end up writing a letter.

maybe because you really do want to just send a long text spilling your mushy, soft, pink feelings

but you know that's just not what ten deserves

he deserves (and you do too, but you won't admit this) a face to face confession

so you start retelling the moments that flutter up in your heart whenever you think about him

how he makes the room brighter when he's in it, how he dances with every bone, joint, muscle in his body - how he approaches it with no inhibition and true devotion that paints its way across his face when he practices, how he fits perfectly into the hole that grows more massive every day you don't see him

standing there across the hall - coffee in hand, gym bag with his scuffed dance shoes

by the time you're finished - the letter is longer than you imagine. there are parts crossed and scribbled out, repetitive thoughts, and stupid little comments and metaphors that compare ten to flowers or clouds or anything else pretty in nature

you cringe at yourself, but you do feel better

it could be your outline for when the time to actually tell him comes.

you shove the papers into an envelope, write ten's name and the address of his parisian dance academy just for the irony

and then make the mistake of letting it sit on your desk

in a matter of days, it has been swallowed by a bunch of other papers and trinkets

and when you're rushing around your room trying to get ready for another adventure to the beach - sicheng clinks the lollipop against his teeth and fishes it out - curious at the stamp

"do you want me to mail this?"

he asks and you're trying to find those sunglasses you literally just bought and grumble that sure, whatever - you'll meet him out by kun's car.

halfway to the beach, you turn in horror from the passenger seat to look at sicheng in the back

your eyes like saucers and a tremor in a voice

"wait. what did you ask me back in my room?"

sicheng's big smile is red from the candy, "your letter to ten."

and there comes the second pang of dread and worry that takes the overwhelming shape of your summer

oh my god - oh my god - maybe the letter won't even make it. i mean it's a letter to france....it'll take at least a month to get there. wait - it probably didn't even have a stamp on it. oh god maybe the address was totally off and some poor stranger is about to be subjected to my very incoherent feelings.....

every day you look at your phone and there's no texts or emails or anything from ten

his social media has gone quiet too

you throw your dignity down a well and ask all your friends if they've heard from him and they all scratch their heads and say no, it's been maybe a week since they did

your stress then turns from your love letter to a possibility that ten is in trouble

he kind of thrives from attention so it is very weird that he's so off-grid

you decide finally, on the day that it's been exactly a month and one day since he was gone, to call

you hover over the facetime button - should i text him first?

with a yelp, you nearly drop and crack your screen when ten's name flashes across the screen

you settle your breathing and tell yourself he hasn't gotten the letter, there's no way - since when has snail mail been efficient?

you answer and are about to ask what's up when ten waves something into the camera

"i got your letter."

maybe you go into rigor. because ten's eyebrows knit and he asks if your connection is ok, you aren't saying anything

you don't know if it's just because you miss him so much that you're able to drag yourself back into consciousness or because you are curious, in the depths of your mind, what his reaction will be

"o-oh. right- i-"

ten frowns and you think it's coming. the rejection is coming.

"is that why you didn't answer my text? you sent the letter instead?"

"your text?"

"yeah, i said i missed you and you read it and never responded."

a peek of a smile stretches on his pretty, bare face

"i never thought you were so romantic to send a letter."

something burns on your skin but you just try to make sure your hand holding the phone doesn't shake

"im not - i just, it was dumb sicheng said i should write it because - i don't know. he's the romantic, blame him."

"you're the one that said i could make a shy tulip open its petals with my laughter."

"oh god"

that smile turns into a grin

"and that my dancing manages to cast a spell on you."

you hide your expression by turning your face

"are you going to re-read the whole thing to me?"

"should i, you're so poetic."

"don't make fun of me."

your voice is serious this time, small and huddled, because you mean it

worse than being told he doesn't feel the same is to be ridiculed for holding him in your heart like this for so long

"im not making fun of you, the letter is beautiful."

you still can't look at him, it's so ten to be kind before he's cruel

"i could never write something like that - so i thought i would just call you and say it."

you don't need to love song yourself into telling me you just see me as a friend

"i love you."

your head whips back so fast your phone drops and you curse and ten can't help but laugh

"sorry, sorry -what did you say?"

he runs a hand through his dark hair, the lighting in his room is dim and illuminates him perfectly

a large white t-shirt engulfs his slender shoulders as he sits up against the wall

"i love you. i know it's corny to confess over facetime, but im guessing it's more forgivable than text?"

a bubble bursts in your stomach and it makes you feel lightheaded and inhumanely blissful all at once

"i love you too."

"more then friends right, because your letter had this part about kissing im very interested in."

you bite back your lip and nod, both embarrassed that he'd bring that part up too but also seeing ten - your close friend, your secret love - talk about kissing you

makes some of the neurons in your body go haywire

"good, i seriously was scared you might have been pranking me with thi-"

"i would never. im not hendery."

"oh how are they, ive been super busy with the practice for a review so i haven't talked to anyone."

another thing you love about him, he keeps everyone in. he leaves none of his friends behind. he pretends like he couldn't have a care in the world, but he cares more than anyone else.

"he's ok, he almost crashed kun's car yesterday."

ten shrugs, "expected."

and like that - everything is still somehow the same. there is no awkward phase after you've talked about your feelings for each other at all.

because your love doesn't come as a one hit punch because ten is beautiful, although he is to an unfair degree

it comes from the experience of being around him. having so much of him. maybe even getting a little addicted.

you do talk more on the phone, no more long pauses even though ten's practices get more grueling and you tell him to take his time to rest

but he's sweaty on the practice room floor - texting you - telling you everything is sore but the thought of seeing you soon makes it all better

it's three days before ten is scheduled to fly back that he has his review and you are biting your fingernails waiting for him to tell you about it

when you get a youtube link at like three in the morning - you click it and someone has recorded ten's performance

somehow, he looks more graceful than you've ever seen him

a new text comes in when it's almost done

'i think i did well - can i get a reward?'

'you'll get a really good one when you're home'

he sends a winking emoji and you can't fall asleep after because you wonder what he's expecting, you'd meant a kiss - had he meant more?

you wouldn't mind that at all.

xiaojun is being pulled away from the conveyer belt by kun and hendery is asking sicheng for a sip of his starbucks as you all wait for ten's plane to land in the airport lobby

you two have not told anyone - mostly because you know there will be endless questions you won't have answers too and sicheng might literally never let you live it down

so you wait for ten to be here so you can suffer together

you see the gates from his flight open and sicheng mutters that you look like you're going to pop like a goddamn balloon

for once in your life, you don't snide back at him, folding your hands in front of you and tippy-toeing to see over the crowd

and then, like seeing him for the first time all the years ago when you first met, ten comes out

hendery and xiaojun try to go for a running jump, but the older members hold them back because everyone can sense whats coming

you dash toward him and ten doesn't stay still either - you two collide so hard it almost hurts, but you don't care at all

ten's duffel bag falls over his shoulder and your hands are wrapped around his neck before he can even say your name

it's a first kiss that couldn't be more characteristically fit for you

sweet, big smiles tasted on lips, and interrupted by none other than your group of friends gasping in a symphony of shock

except for sicheng - he knew

ten tastes like you imagine he would taste, maybe because in smaller ways you've already had doses of the sunshine that radiates off him before

he keeps his hands wrapped around your waist as he looks down into your eyes

"mon amour"

"is that really all you learned in france?"

"ummm yeah, i don't know how to say let's get out of here and back to my place even though im pretty sure someone said that to me at some point."

you pout, "don't try to make me jealous."

"never!"

ten chuckles as you press your face into his neck and hug him close

the only way you get pulled apart is because someone (kun) reminds you all you're still at the PUBLIC airport

the drive back is a frenzy and everyone wants to know everything and not about just you two - because you're "two" now - but about france and traveling and ten's dancing

like you'd sensed - nothing has really changed

just this time, your fingers are locked in tens. and the warmth you longed for in silence is suddenly all out in the open.

funnily enough, you and ten don't ever write letters to each other again.

ten just doesn't like writing - it takes too much sitting down

and you are horrified everytime he fishes your love confession out of the memory box and dangles it above your head as leverage

it's how he convinced you into adopting the first cat. now you two have three.

so when you and him are deciding the best way to let all your friends know about your upcoming event you cross out mailed invitations

"we can make an email list."

your legs are thrown over his thighs on the sofa and he's resting the laptop on you them

"let's just make an instagram post: wedding in our backyard on thursday - you're invited."

ten pinches his nose

"we are not having a backyard wedding. we could not fit everyone in my dance company into it anyway."

you play with your engagement band and sigh

"fine, fine. what about.....we just call everyone and tell them. if we call kun right now he'll let all of the world know by the end of the week."

ten agrees with a hum, but then starts typing and you lean over to see

"bulk wedding invites? you're giving in?"

he closes the laptop and tosses it to the side, easily and gently pushing you down onto your back to hover over you with a small content sound

"i am. but we don't even have to write the letters - some company will do it for us."

his lips are inches from yours and all of a sudden you're young again - waiting to kiss him for the first time at that airport

"you know we'll still have to write vows right."

he is about to kiss you, he's so close and your eyes are closing

"i'll just read your letter outl-"

"TEN NO!"

he laughs, laughs until he finally does kiss you and then laughs again when he pulls back - the overflowing amount of love that exists in that moment is potent

you tell him to get over that old thing, but he shakes his head

"never, when again in all the lives i live is someone going to say i could make a shy tulip open its petals with my laughter?"

#i know his bday was in february please im still working through them cries #ten au #ten imagines #ten scenarios #nct au #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv au #wayv scenarios #sfw #nostolgic!au #ten #member: ten #im sicheng through all this

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

Soup & Cuddles

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluff Summary: Bucky had a particularly rough mission but you’re there to welcome him home with a nice warm meal and comforting arms. A/N: ooof weird ending I’m sorry I sometimes don’t know how to end stuff lmao please forgive me but besides that i think this is cute, simple, and sweet so please enjoy <3

Masterlist

You’d been with Bucky long enough to know what came with welcoming him home from a mission.

For starters, whatever time his estimated arrival was was always off by at least a couple of hours (he like to put up an optimistic front for you, you had realized quickly) so you were always prepared for very late nights. Secondly, he would usually be dead tired but insist on hearing about what you did while he was gone. Thirdly, he could be touchy, unable to even lift a finger from you once he got in the door. And finally, he’d simply be hungry.

This night started like any other waiting for Bucky to come home from a mission. Early that morning he alerted you he would be home around midnight which basically translated to early morning hours. You started cooking some food for him around midnight as you waited.

You settled on vegetable soup as it not only warmed the soul but also could be reheated easily. What could you say? You favored practical recipes.

You prepped and seasoned the vegetables nicely, leaving them to wait patiently in the pot. You added in the vegetable stock along with water and a dash of more seasoning just to give it that little extra something. As it began bubbling away, you placed a lid on it, letting the broth reduce and flavors combine.

Once the soup was completed, you left it sitting on the back burner, simmering to keep warm for when Bucky arrived home. You sat on your kitchen island counter, flipping through a magazine when the door finally opened. You smiled, your head quickly turning to greet your man but everything around you seemed to stop when you noticed the state he was in.

Physically, he was just fine. There was no blood you could see, only just the outlines of bruises, but everything else about him… From his stance to his eyes… He didn’t seem okay.

It wasn’t new for Bucky to sometimes came back in unpleasant moods. That, you felt, was totally expected with such a demanding job but something about this time was different. He looked defeated, almost like everything was kicked out of him all over again.

Your heart dropped but you tried not to show it, keeping up some cheeriness in your voice. "Hi, honey," you said, sending him a small smile.

"Hi, doll," His words were weak.

Redirecting your attention to the stove, you hopped down and grabbed a bowl. Motioning towards the pot, you said, "I made you some vegetable soup if you’re hungry."

Bucky shook his head, "Maybe in the morning."

Soup? In the morning? Was… Was he even listening to you?

Stunned, you stood there, just holding the bowl and spoon meant for him. You watched him place some stuff on the counter and then head into the living room, totally bypassing you without a second glance.

Despite turning down the food, you still filled a bowl for him, adding some toast with butter to the side for dipping. You grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge and headed into the living room.

Bucky was sitting on the couch, mindlessly watching late-night TV shows. He wasn’t reacting to anything on the television, just staring off into space. He barely even register you had entered the room until you placed the soup and water directly in front of him on the coffee table.

"Doll, really," he insisted, "I don’t want anything."

You shrugged, taking a seat next to him on the couch, and said, "Well, it’s there in case you change your mind."

Silence fell over the room as Bucky turned to you, his heavy eyes met yours. He looked tired in the worst way. You bit your lip, debating if you should press him to talk about it. He’d always been hesitant to talk about, well, anything. You tried your best to respect that but this was getting to you.

Cautiously, you placed your hand over Bucky’s, intertwining your fingers. It was a small thing but he accepted it.

"Do you want to talk about anything?" You asked, your voice just hovering above a whisper. Bucky took his eyes off you, opting to look down at your connected hands. You took the opportunity to lightly run your fingers through his hair. He slightly leaned into the touch, giving you a bit of hope.

"First off, we lost some people," he simply replied, his grip on your hand suddenly getting stronger.

"What- On the team?" You asked frantically. Bucky quickly shook his head.

"No," he said. You let out a sigh of relief. "But then there were some issues with the civilians."

He acted like that was that but something in your gut could feel there was more to it. He was being so vague it was weirding you out. Bucky, on the other hand, didn’t seem concerned about his words as he disconnected your hands and finally reached for the soup bowl. He drank some broth, turning back to the television.

"Bucky," you said slowly, "is that it?"

He looked down at the soup, this time eating a spoonful of vegetables. Once he had finished his bite, there was a pause. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it as if contemplating on answering. You watched him intensely, pulling your hands to your lap, waiting.

"Kids," he mumbled as his gaze focused on his dinner, stirring the spoon idly. "We saw some kids and I… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them. I don’t know if they’re okay or not."

Your jaw dropped slightly. You brought your hand gently to his bicep. He tensed under your touch. "Oh, honey…"

You didn’t know what to say. What- What could you say? Everything on missions could be rough but the image of a child caught in problems they didn’t cause? And possibly paying for it? You couldn’t even imagine the weight of it all.

Bucky sighed, leaning forward, forcing your touch to drop, as he placed his food back on the coffee table. He took a couple of bites of the bread before leaning back, still not looking at you.

"You know, missions can be bad on their own," he mumbled. "But being reminded children are affected…"

He said so little but so much all at once. All you could do was nod, trying to ease his mind. You couldn’t pretend to even know how he was feeling. You certainly had never been in his position before. You just had to be there listen when he was ready to speak and welcome him into your arms to let him know you’re there.

When Bucky felt you wrap your arms around him, he pulled back from his empty staring to look down at you. Normally, when emotions were this strong he’d opt to be alone. And, in fact, he almost did just that earlier. His original plan was to walk right into the bedroom once he got home and bury it all.

But he knew that wouldn’t be a possibility. You were too good. You were there all sweet and radiant, waiting for him with a hot meal. He just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t turn you away no matter how much he tried. Stuff got a lot better faster when he had someone willing to comfort him.

Effortlessly, he picked you up and placed you on his lap. His arms were tight around your waist. You rested your head in the crook of his neck while his forehead met your shoulder.

You two stayed like that for a bit, just holding one another, trying to offer support any way you could. You still were at a loss for words but Bucky didn’t seem to mind. He probably wasn’t looking for a response anyway. He knew you each led two completely different lives and, sure, there was some beauty in that. There was something about coming back to one another after a full day of work and errands, ready to share stories from your day. But there were always bad sides to it, too. While you didn’t exactly have the horror stories Bucky could have, you knew he’d always listen to your problems, as you were present to listen to his.

After a moment, you felt you couldn’t keep the silence going. Gently pushing away, Bucky lifted his head from your shoulder and you faced one another again.

"I’m sorry," you said, running your thumb over his damp cheek, collecting tears.

"I love you, doll," Bucky mumbled, leaning forward to place a quick peck on your lips. "Thank you."

"I- I didn’t really do-,"

He shook his head, "You do so much for me. You listen to me, you comfort me, you make me the greatest bowls of soup ever… You do too much. Thank you."

You chuckled, your heart melting at his words. With the best smile you could muster under the circumstance, you placed a proper kiss on Bucky’s lips which he happily returned. His grip got tighter, trying to pull your bodies together. You pressed your hands against his chest, putting distance between you two. There were a lot of emotions running through you two.

"You should get some sleep," you said and tried getting off his lap. His arms wouldn’t budge. You sighed, "Bucky, honey, come on."

Shaking his head, he said, "Let’s watch a movie or something, okay? I… I don’t want to sleep yet."

You nodded, "Alright, we can do that but I would like some soup first. And maybe then cuddles."

Bucky chuckled, removing his arms from your waist. You stood and raced to the kitchen, grabbing your own bowl of soup and bread.

"Soup and cuddles?" He asked, watching you from the living room. Maybe he could spend all night like this. Watching you was enough to keep him happy.

"Soup and cuddles," you confirmed, making your way back into the living room. You placed your food on the coffee table and sat on the couch where Bucky had his arm extended, waiting for your body to curl up into his.

His hold on you was fairly strong as if needing a reminder of your presence but you didn’t say anything. It felt good to be wrapped in your man’s arms. And felt even better to be his safe spot. Your heart fluttered at the realization, making you slide closer.

Bucky certainly didn’t object.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel one shot #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu #mcu fic #oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #writing*#bucky barnes

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

Irredeemable my foot

Hi everyone, I decided to write a fic centered on Chloe; is a sugar fic. I always liked her character. And I would like to dedicate this fic to Sienna, aka @catsandfanfic. Happy 14th birthday. Her birthday is March 6th. In my time zone it’s March 6 so hopefully you’re not getting this too early. I hope your birthday is amazing, and I really hope you enjoy this fic; i heard you like Maribat. And @justdyingontheinside gives you a shout out on your special day.

Chloe knew how everyone expected it to go. The blond could admit… She was spoiled, selfish, petty, and insecure, with mommy issues galore.

But she wasn’t a villain. Yet she could understand why people thought she’d go down like one.

Nevertheless, for people to think she’d ever willingly work for Hawkmoth; a man who ruthlessly used his power to corrupt the hearts and minds of innocents (like her father, mother, Adrien, Sabrina, and everyone else in Paris) and use them to further his own agenda… was too much.

The people who believed that was basically saying Chloe was irredeemable; that there was no way she could ever be anything more than what she was. Like she couldn’t grow. Like she couldn’t better herself; like everyone in the world had that ability except for her. She was fourteen-years-old.

Only fifteen!

Why was it so easy to write her off?

Chloe Bourgeois was a bully, not a freaking serial killer.

She wasn’t a Supervillain. However, Chloe could admit, that for one brief moment when she realized she was passed over yet again by Ladybug for the chance to help save the day, hurt and anger had filled her. That if Hawkmoth had sent a butterfly after her that maybe… MAYBE for a second, she’d take his offer.

At least, he thought she could be of some use.

It wasn’t fair, Chloe remembered stomping her foot as jealously filled her. Why didn’t Ladybug pick her? She was so much better than all those other stupid heroes! So much better than that mangy Chat Noir even. Queen Bee would be a much better partner. If she could just prove it!

And that suddenly it was like a lightbulb went off above her head, the kind you only see in cartoons. A smile spread over her face.

The dark butterfly that was headed her way suddenly changed its course.

Yes, Chloe had thought, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll prove it. I’ll show them all. I’m a hero. And I’m going to save everyone!

She could be better.

She would be better.

(And once she did, maybe Ladybug would think so too)

Nevertheless, even if Ladybug never knew. Chloe would. She would know she did the right thing because it was the right thing to do; no other reason. That would be enough for her. Even if it meant she’d never be Queen Bee again.

Chloe was going to prove she was a hero after all. With or without the mask or magical powers.

The world thought she wasn’t redeemable. Well, she was going to show the world what a real redemption arc looked like.

The first thing needed to do was plan. Hawkmoth was too strong. He needed to be brought down fast before he becomes unbeatable. Ladybug was perfect but she was still just a kid. She needed more help.

Outside help. Chloe knew there were other superheroes out there. The Avengers. The flash and his team in central city. Superman and his superfam in Metropolis. The Teen Titans. The Justice League. But to beat Hawkmoth would take stealth. It took intelligence. And people used to dealing with total nutjobs in costumes. Heroes who could help finally crack the mystery of who Hawkmoth was.

Paris needs the Batfamily.

Which means Chloe was going to Gotham. But she wouldn’t go alone. She needed an Ally, or preferably Allies.

Chloe decided to figure out who was who on the best board of life.

The first was easy Ladybug was the White King; a true, just, and kick-butt hero. Chloe made herself the Queen; because whether Ladybug knew it or not, Chloe had just become her strongest protector. (She only just manage to argue against making Chat Noir a pawn; instead named him a Knight.) Sabrina, though had some major insecurity, was a good friend of Chloe. She was smart enough not to fall for Lila’s fool’s gold.

Sabrina had learned at the heel of her father when it came to detective work. She had mastered computers thanks to her mother who was a high-level computer programmer. She knew self-defense since her parents shoved her into Karate when she was younger. The redheaded was organized to the point of being OCD. She was loyal to a fault.

With a little confidence, Sabrina could be a real asset to Team Ladybug. And she would be. Chloe just needed to show that she trusted the redhead, believed in her.

Chloe wished she could bring Adrien in but he was a civilian with the backbone of a twizzler. He was too forgiving and to sheltered from the real world. It had worked in her benefit before, otherwise, he’d have dropped her as a friend a long time ago. But things had changed. Chloe needed friends who would stand up against her not just threatened to not be her friend anymore. It wouldn’t do any good in the long run after all.

Hawkmoth was the Black king; pure evil. The Peacock shrew was his Queen. And, Chloe decided, Lila was his bishop. The sausage haired was a manipulative, rancid, liar. And from what she had seen of Lila’s akumatization, the Italian girl was fully in control of her actions. Which meant Lila was working with Hawkmoth willingly.

And since Lila was the only bad guy she could give a real name for, Chloe decided she would be the key to bringing down Hawkmoth.

Thus Lila Rossi became public enemy number one.

Lila was dangerous in a way hawkmoth couldn’t be. She lied and twisted minds with no powers whatsoever. She turned nearly all of Bustier’s class into untrustworthy minions. They should’ve been White; on the side of good. But they had proven to be disloyal and easily influenced. The class couldn’t be trusted.

They had turned against the one person even Chloe had a hard time not deeming a Saint.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chloe strongly disliked the girl, mostly out of envy. The blond didn’t need therapy to know that she wanted what the bluenette had; a mom that adored her, a dad that actually tried to help and not just throw money at any situation, sheer talent, and pretty much the instant admiration of almost anyone she met.

However, she was also strong and fierce. Marinette was a force of good hard to reckoned with. Chloe needed all the help she could get.

Which meant recruiting Dupain-Cheng for the cause.

That might prove harder than getting Batman to help out.

When Chloe and Sabrina showed up at the bakery and politely asked to speak with Marinette, she was given a suspicious look by Marinette’s mother (Sabel or something, Chloe couldn’t remember). Still, she called her daughter downstairs.

Marinette walked into with a bright happy smile that quickly faded when she saw Chloe.

“We need to talk, Marinette,” Chloe forced herself to say the other girl’s first name. “Its an emergency.” Sabrina nudged her. “Please.”

It was obviously the shock of Chloe saying please that got Marinette to take them up to her bedroom.

Marinette tried her best to smile, “So what’ s the emerg-” Chloe cut her off.

“We’re going to Gotham to recruit Batman and his fam,” Chloe told her. “To help Ladybug bring down HawkLoser. You coming or not.”

The bluenette just blinked.

Sabrina winced at her best friend’s lack of tact, “What Chloe is trying to say is… We could really use your help. Ladybug could use your help. Everyone likes you. You can convince Batman to come.”

“…Why?” Marinette asked after a moment of silence.

“Ladybug needs help!” Chloe told her. “Chat Noir throws tantrums all the time. Hawkmoth has the Peacock and Lila at his deposal. Ladybug hasn’t called in Rena or Caraprace in almost a year, so there has to be a reason for that. She needs help! She needs us!”

The Asian girl nodded slowly, “I mean, why come to me? Why help Ladybug like this?”

Chloe frowned, “Because you always do what’s right; the good, noble thing even if it’s utterly ridiculous for you to do so. I’m doing this, helping, Ladybug, because she needs help. I’m a hero, no matter what anyone says or thinks. And Heroes help.”

The bluenette looked at the two girls. They had been a thorn in her side for years. But she always thought they could change. She believed they could. And coming to her, Chloe archenemy, was proof that they were changing. “What’s the plan?”

The blond smiled. “Sabrina managed to outline the patrol routes for the batfamily.”

“They switch who does what route but there is a predictability to it,” Sabrina added. “The idea is to force a confrontation. I’ve gathered evidence to show them so they could understand the gravity.”

“My job is to get us,” Chloe said. “You have plenty of time to come up with one of Disney motivational speeches to get them on board. We leave for Gotham tomorrow.”

It was after midnight. Three girls stood on top of an old condemned building in the heart of Gotham; dressed in black, shivering from the cold.

“By my calculations,” Sabrina said. She held a computer under her arm. “At least two of the bats should be by monitoring the area during this hour.”

“And we’re sure this is going to work?” Marinette asked.

Chloe smirked, “Oh yeah.” She took a deep breath and screamed. “AHHHHHHHH!! Help!! Help! Someone please!!” She gave a fake sob and fell to the ground; causing Marinette to jump back in shock. She looked up at Marinette and Sabrina with a wide grin on her face, “How was that?”

“Become an actress,” Marinette told her. “Let me design the dress you wear when you accept the Oscar.”

There were two loud thuds behind.

“What’s going on?” A tall hero they recognized as Nightwing asked.

“We heard screams,” Red Robin stated.

“Its go time,” Chloe told them as she got up.

Sabrina nodded firmly as she opened up the laptop and started quickly.

Marinette smiled at the heroes, “Hi. My name is Marinette. This is Sabrina and Chloe,” She motioned to her friends. “We’ve come from Paris to seek the aid of Batman to stop a supervillain that has been terrorizing our city.”

Red Robin stepped forward, “A supervillain? In Paris?”

“We haven’t heard anything about it,” Nightwing said. “We know there are heroes there that takedown small-time villain, But nothing too damaging that we’ve seen.”

“Hawkmoth possesses people,” Chloe hissed. “Turns them into monsters. Turns kids into monsters. Literal Babies into monsters. A girl who can control the weather and could end the world. Another who absorbed energy from people so she could travel back in time. Until the people she steals energy from will freeze and slowly disappear. A man with the power of the Egyptian gods and tried to revive the dead. A villain who could trap people in pictures. Another that can bring people the worst nightmares to life. How about one that caused most of the citizens of the city of Paris to drown. One man caused all that happened. Our city gets destroyed over and over again. People die over and over again. Hawkmoth is behind it all.”

Sabrina turned her laptop to them, and show the video they clipped together. “This is a news real, videos sent from regular smartphones.” The video showed proof of the fights, the monsters, the deaths, the damages, the terror. “Check any new channel centered in Paris. It will show you. This. IS. Real.”

Marinette fought the urge not to tremble as she remembered every villain she fought. “Ladybug fixes the damage the akuma causes; including bringing people back to life. But the people who die still remember. Ladybug can’t do this alone anymore. Even the help of Chat Noir isn’t enough. If Hawkmoth gets what he wants, it could be the end of everything and everyone.” It hadn’t been for a long time, she thought bitterly. Chat Noir loved the glamor and excitement of being a hero but it was like he never really felt the burden of the weight of Paris on his shoulders like she did. To him, it was all game. Or some stupid action movie. And he was too busy trying to get the girl to realize that they might not be able to save the day.

The bluenette looked hard at the heroes, “We need help. I know it’s not your city. I know you don’ have to care. I know you have your own villains and problems.” Tears burned in her eyes. “But we wouldn’t be here if we had other options; if we could handle it by ourselves. So We’re asking anyway. Will you please help us?”

Two identical horrified looks were on the batkids’ faces. Dick and Tim looked at the three kids, thousands of miles away from home, in the middle of the most dangerous city in the world, at night, to beg for help against what sounded like an undeniable monster. The teen girls were scared, near hopeless, and willing to ask for help from Batman and his family, heroes most civilians were too scared to even cross paths with.

Their situation was dire. Direr than the risk of being three, alone, beautiful, teenage girls in Gotham.

The other bats had been listening and or watching the conversation and were equally horrified. But that quickly gave way to fury.

“Red Robin, I want the intel off Sabrina’s computer,” Batman growled. “Oracle, I want everything you can find on Hawkmoth. We’ll start preparing to leave for Paris”

“On it,” Barabra stated. “I also brought up info on the girls. They’re all clean. Sabrina’s dad a cop. Marinette’s an all-star student, who has quite a few famous friends. Chloe’s the daughter of the Style Queen and the Mayor of Paris.”

“I get to kill Hawkmoth, right, B-man?” Jason asked. “I mean, I’m watching a video where he turned a crying baby who literally just wanted a lollipop into Gigantitan and used him to terrorize people. That’s gotta be a free pass on the killing thing.”

There was silence. No answer from Batman.

“Holy shit, are you considering it?” Jason asked stunned. “Kids really are your Achilles’ heel.”

Nightwing nodded. Batman always had a soft spot for kids. But even Dick was considering beating Hawkmoth to death. “Batman has agreed to help.” He told the girls who visibly sighed in relief as weight had come off them.

“May I use your laptop?” Tim asked the redhead. Sabrina nodded quickly and handed it over.

Nightwing observed the girls, “What else can you tell us about Hawkmoth?”

“No one knows his identity, obviously?” Chloe rolled her eyes. “His Allies include another villain named Mayura, identity unknown. And a civilian named Lila Rossi.”

Sabrina still couldn’t believe Lila stooped so low. “We have evidence that she has been willingly working with the known terrorist Hawkmoth and has allowed herself to be akumatized multiple times.” She pushed up her glasses. “She’s in our class. She has been lying and causing emotional distress to multiple students, increasing Akumas.” Lila had always caused the near break up of Ivan and Mylene, Nino and Alya, and for several friendships to nearly be destroyed. It was awful. “We think she will be the best way to finally snuffing out the villain. She has some connection to him we’re trying to figure out.”

“Suspects?” Damian asked in comms. “Stop being obtuse. We need to know who they suspect.”

“Robin, you shouldn’t be on the comms,” Batman reprimanded. “It’s your day off. Relax.”

Tim nodded, “Any leads on Hawkmoth’s identity.”

“Just one,” Marinette admitted. “A man named Gabriel Agreste. But we ruled him out after he was akumartized.”

Chloe snorted, “That’s stupid.” She said. “If Ladybug’s cure can heal the damage of an akuma, including what’s inflicting to her and that Alley Chat; there’s no logical reason, Hawkmoth can’t use his own powers on himself. To think otherwise, would be ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.”

Sabrina agreed, “Or he could’ve gotten Mayura to use it. I mean Ladybug and Chat Noir switched before. Why couldn’t they?”

Red Robin nodded, “That’s a good point. We’ll investigate him further.” He told them. “How much are you involved?”

The girls shared a look. Chloe stepped forward proudly, “I was the Hero, Queen Bee.”

“No!” Marinette said strongly. “She is the Hero Queen Bee; a loyal friend and ally of Ladybug.” She swallowed hard as she fought the nervousness. Tikki and her had talked about what would happen next. Chloe had proven herself as far as two were considered. The blond deserved a real chance to prove she what type of hero she could be.

Marinette took a deep breath and reached into her bag and pulled out a necklace and a hair comb that Chloe recognized instantly. A series of emotions flashed over the blonde’s face; recognition, understanding, disbelief, envy, embarrassment, frustration, acceptance, and then finally a look of admiration.

“Here,” She handed the comb to Chloe and the necklace to Sabrina. The kawami’s floated out.

“My queen,” Pollen purred as she landed on Chloe’s shoulder. The blonde looked ready to cry.

Trixx spun around Sabrina’s head, “Kit. I have new Kitt!”

The batfamily was just confused.

Marinette straightens up, “Chloe for your show of loyalty, for your dedication to justice, and for your willingness to help from shadows; I name you an official and permanent member of the miraculous team. Keep moving forward. Keeping bettering yourself. I believe in you. And I welcome Queen Bee back.”

“Wha…” Nightwing said only to be cut off by Chloe

She yelled, “Pollen, Buzz On!" And before they’re eyes, she transformed into the hero Queen Bee. “Eat your heart out, boys,” Chloe smirked at the stunned heroes.

Marinette giggled. She focused on Sabrina who now realized exactly what was about to happen. “Sabrina, when Chloe brought you, I didn’t know what to expect. It turned out you had spent months researching and gathering evidence. I didn’t there was proof Lila was working with Hawkmoth willingly, you did. You saw through the lies and deception to find the truth despite the danger it could bring you. Which why I give you the kwami of Illusion.”

Sabrina shakily put on the necklace. Trixx patted her head, “Now say, Trisx let's pounce.” The redhead did as she was told as was instantly transformed into a fox themed hero. Unlike Alya, Sabrina’s look was grey and a startling silver. It was more like an actual combat uniform.

“Truth is neither right nor wrong,” Sabrina stated. “It's not good or evil. It's not light or dark. Truth just is. I am Renarde Gris.”

Marinette smiled and then said, “Tikki, Spots on.” And was transformed into Ladybug. Her suit was different; darker and better armored. “I am Ladybug.” She told the bats. “And I thank you for help.”

Nightwing opened and closed his mouth repeatedly.

Red Robin just pinched his nose, “Did you just make a civilian into a superhero just like that?”

Ladybug tilted her head innocently, “Why? Isn’t that how batman got you?”

Jason snorted, “She ain’t lying.”

“You were trained before going into the field,” Batman corrected. “You all were. But let’s focus, Ladybug is a child!”

“You’re just a kid,” Nightwing said. “You’ll all just kids.”

Sabrina crossed her arms, “Weren’t you the first Robin? And didn’t you start at like ten-years-old? At least we’re teenagers.”

“And we don’t dress like traffic lights!” Marinette and Chloe snapped together, to their surprise, and then high-fived with a laugh.

Red Robin examined Ladybug in a new light, “You’ve been protective Paris for three years.”

“Alone?” Damian growled in their ears. “Father, you said I was too young. I am the same age as them. I demand to be treated befitting of my status.”

Ladybug shrugged, “The current Robin has protected Gotham on his own many times. He’s even led Teen Titans on missions. He has proven as I have that age is meaningless in the pursuit of justice. “

Nightwing shook his head, “You’re just kids. Robin is just a kid.”

“Tell me, what bothers you more?” She asked. “The line of children that followed in your footsteps. Or that current Robin is better than you ever were.”

“…I love her.” Damian said. “Father, I love her and I will marry her.” It went quiet. “Red Robin, tell her of my affections. Superboy wants Chloe’s number. Spiderman requests Sabrina’s. I still don’t understand, why, you thought a ‘kids’ game night’ was necessary, father?”

Batman just sighed.

Tim cleared his throat, “Robin would like to, uh, court you.” He said. “Superboy would like Queen Bee’s phone number.” He could wait to tell Conner that Jon had a crush. “Spiderman request Renarde Gris’.”

The girls all blushed prettily.

“Then he can hero up and ask me himself,” Sabrina smirked in a way that made Chloe proud.

“Same,” Marinette said with a smile. Chloe nodded in agreement.

“…We’re on our way,” Damian said into the comms.

The sigh that answered that statement clearly belonged to Bruce.

#ml fic #marinette dupain cheng #ml salt #Chloe deserves better #chloe bourgeois #A little bit of Adrien Salt #maribat #daminette

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ray-ray-writings · 3 years

Text

Calm During the Storm-Technoblade

This is a platonic!Ranboo x Technoblade, and Philza imagine in the dreamsmp. Fair warning, I don’t think I’ve ever written something that wasn’t an x reader so I hope I do okay.

TW: Ranboo has a panic attack

Unexpected weather strikes leaving Ranboo stranded out in the open. Techno sees him and goes to him and attempts to calm him down.

Check out my masterlist here!

Third Person POV

If there was one thing that Philza Minecraft was good at, it was adopting kids and giving them a good home and a place to stay. Above everything, Philza has always looked out for children. Which is why it came to no one’s surprise that when the newest minor on the server felt he had nowhere to go, that Philza offered him a safe place to land. Ranboo accepted immediately, claiming that he never believed in sides but this was a side he could get behind.

Phil had suggested that Ranboo build a separate house from the one Techno lived in, which Ranboo agreed with. So that was the plan for the day. Gather the materials to build his house and then build the house. Seemed simple enough. There was one issue though. The weather took an unexpected turn while Philza and Techno were out.

One would think that in the tundra biome, there is no rain. There would only be snow or hail, something Ranboo could freely walk in… Nope. Somehow, someway, there was a downpour happening. It had happened so suddenly that Ranboo wasn’t prepared. He had been outside, about 40 blocks from his hole in the mountain, cutting down trees for wood when the sky released it’s downpour upon the unsuspecting boy.

Due to the surprising nature of the rain, Ranboo had no protection. No helmet, umbrella, cape, nothing to block the liquid from splashing on him. Ranboo’s skin burned at the drops of water that landed on him. He knew that no one was home. Philza and Techno had gone adventuring for the day so he couldn’t call out to them for help. The half-enderman had no choice but to huddle close to the tree, wrapping his arms around it.

Ranboo’s breathing began to pick up in pace as he realized that he was trapped. He was unable to teleport anywhere. His home had no roof and he couldn’t build one fast enough to where he would be unarmed in the process. The idea of maybe teleporting to his panic room to calm down and wait out the storm crossed the young boy’s mind, but quickly disappeared as he realized he was 100s of blocks away from it. Too far for Ranboo’s teleporting abilities. Purple magic began swarming the panicked young boy as black dots clouded his vision. Ranboo’s arms tightened around the tree as he began to silently cry.

Technoblade grumbled as he entered his home. The rain had spoiled his adventure with his father and caused him to get all wet, something he did not enjoy. As he began to put away many of the things he had taken on the trip, something outside the window caught his eye. A cloud of purple swarmed around a spruce tree, something that had definitely not been there when he left. Scratching his head, Techno narrowed his eyes to try and make out what was happening. A small gasp escaped his throat as he realized that Ranboo was in the middle of the cloud. “Oh no” Techno murmured to himself before grabbing a random helmet and cloak before rushing out the front door toward the purple magic and the half-enderman trapped inside it.

Ranboo had no idea what was happening. He could barely hear frantic footsteps approach him as his panic attack fully overwhelmed his body. Ranboo could barely register that something had been placed on his head and then something else had been wrapped around his body. “Come on buddy. I’ve got you,” A deep monotone voice murmured in his ear. For a brief moment, he thought maybe it was one of the voices in his head attempting to trick him, but the sound was too external for Ranboo to believe that for long.

The two made their way across the open field back to Techno’s house. Techno supported most of the weight of Ranboo as he almost fully leaned himself on the pig-man. The rain was soaking Techno’s skin, but that wasn’t his number one worry at the moment. Techno’s front door had remained open from when Techno left in a rush, making it very easy for Techno to get Ranboo inside.

Techno helped Ranboo sit down on one of the lavish couches, not caring if it got wet. Ranboo’s breathing was still very erratic and Techno began to panic a little himself. He had never been good at comforting people and calming them down. Normally he was actually a catalyst, causing people to get more and more aggravated. Always poking a metaphoric stick at the bear. He had no idea how to calm someone down. “There, there” He tried, awkwardly patting the boy on the shoulder. Ranboo showed no signs of acknowledging the fact Techno was there and had said something.

Techno glanced around quickly and was relieved to find his father had caught up and had entered the back door. “Hold tight Ranboo,” Techno muttered to the boy before rushing toward his father. “Woah, slow down bud… What’s with the rush?” Philza asked, confused as to why his son was running at him. “Ranboo’s here. He’s having a panic attack, I don’t know what to do,” Techno admitted, a little bit choked up. Philza’s face immediately turned into determination, “Where is he?” Techno wasted no time, moving out of the way and leading his father back to the panicking boy.

Philza had no hesitations going to the young boy that was hyperventilating on the couch and kneeled in front of him. “Hey Ranboo,” Phil greeted softly, “Can I touch you?” Ranboo’s eyes flitted around, barely able to make out the outline of a body. The voice was warm and familiar. Ranboo trusted this voice. A nod let Phil know it was okay to rest his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We need to get you to calm down. Can you take a deep breath for me? Like this?” Philza took a slow deep breath, trying to get Ranboo to mimic him. Ranboo did in fact take a deep breath, not as deep as Phil’s but it was progress. “And out like this,” Philza slowly released the air from his lungs causing Ranboo to do the same.

Techno watched as the two just took slow and deep breaths together. The purple magic slowly faded from around Ranboo’s body as the half-enderman calmed down. “Good, that’s really good,” Philza complimented as the shakiness left Ranboo’s breath. The black spots faded from Ranboo’s vision allowing him to see that he was no longer outside but rather in Techno’s own home. His heart hammered a little at the sight of the pink-haired man over Philza’s shoulder, but it calmed after Ranboo realized that Techno didn’t look upset. No the half pig looked rather worried for the half enderman.

“Sorry… Sorry for that.” Ranboo breathed out, not really sure who he was apologizing too. “No. No kiddo, there’s nothing to be sorry for. You’ve done nothing wrong,” Phil comforted with a warm hand on the boy’s shoulder. Ranboo looked at the couch and noticed that the color was darker where he was sitting compared to the couch cushion next to him. “I got the couch wet,” Ranboo whimpered, looking over at Techno to gauge the man’s reaction. Techno simply shrugged, “It will dry… Are you okay?” Ranboo was a little taken back. The Blood God himself was asking how he was doing? Ranboo cleared his throat, “Oh. Um. I’m alright… Thank you. For saving me out there.” Techno only shrugged once more. “I couldn’t leave you like that.”

Phil stood from his kneel, removing his hand from the boy’s shoulder. “I’m going to go get you some dry clothes okay?” Ranboo nodded at the older man’s words. Philza gave Ranboo a warm smile before leaving the living room.

It was silent between the two halflings for a moment. As Ranboo took in his surroundings, he noticed there was something on his head and around his shoulders. Things that were definitely not there this morning. A shy hand came to his head and he pulled off the helmet. It was an Enchanted Turtle Shell helmet. Ranboo’s eyes flitted from the helmet to his shoulders where he found a red cape draped across him. He quickly stood from the couch and offered both things back to Techno. “Thank you so much for letting me borrow these. Here, you can have them back.”

Techno made no move to take them. “Nah, it’s alright. You can have them. I don’t need them. I have this new cape that I made. And I made that helmet for…. For someone that betrayed me… So they can be yours now.” Deciding not to question it any further, Ranboo brought the items close to his chest. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you. I’ll cherish them forever,” Ranboo babbled as he placed the items back on his person.

A slight glow made its way onto Techno’s face. “It’s whatever,” The pink haired man shrugged once more, trying to make it seem like he didn’t care. It wasn’t very effective. Ranboo smiled shyly as the cape settled on his shoulders once more, “I feel so powerful. Like I could do anything,” The half enderman admitted. Techno’s face broke into a grin as he chuckled, “Yeah, cool capes tend to have that effect on you. You always have had the ability to do anything, but now you believe it and that is magical.”

There conversation ended once Philza came back into the room with a stack of clothes. “Here you go Ranboo, the bathroom’s just down the hall, first door on the right. Go get dried off and changed and then we can hang out until the rain stops.” Ranboo gave the man a dutiful nod before bouncing down the hallway and into the bathroom.

Philza and Techno let out a sigh of relief when the door closed. “I really like that kid,” Philza admitted to his son, causing Techno to nod in agreement. “Yeah, he’s alright… Say Dadza, would you be willing to teach me how to calm someone down like you did… Ya know… Just in case.” A bright grin appeared on Philza’s face as he wrapped a loving arm around Techno’s shoulder. “Of course I will, son. Of course I will.”

There you go! I really hope I did bat anon’s vision justice and you enjoyed it! If you did enjoy it, please be sure to leave a like!

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flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash · 4 years

Text

Every Breath You Take - Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki has been stalking you for weeks, and you have no idea why. One night, he decides to claim what is his.

Characters: Loki x female reader

Words: ~6300

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!!!

Warnings: Explicit smut, explicit language, stalking, dub-con and/or non-con smut (depending where you draw the line between those), breaking and entering, choking/breath play, fear kink, power dynamics, humiliation, praise kink, basically Loki being a dominant mother fucker

Author’s Note: Major song inspiration for this is “Every Breath You Take” by Devil + Winter. Yes, I know it’s a remake of an older song, but I looove that specific cover so much.

This might officially be my favorite oneshot I’ve written thus far, so I hope y’all enjoy!

Every Breath You Take

Glancing at the clock, you puffed out a breath at the late hour. It might be Friday, but you had refused to leave the office until all weekly projects were completed by their deadline, as well as a few extras that you wanted to finish ahead of schedule. You had snagged a government job, and there was no way in hell that you were going to slack off or cause anyone to second guess whether you were the most qualified choice.

Sending off an email to your supervisor with the attached completed work, you gave a triumphant grin before logging out of the computer system, grabbing your purse, and hightailing it for the elevators. Thoughts of a long, hot bath followed by curling up on the couch with delivery pizza and a sappy movie were beckoning, and after a week full of working early mornings and even later evenings, you deserved it.

Exiting the elevator and crossing the lobby, you waved and said goodnight to the evening security guard. He was unsurprised to see you leaving so late and wished you a good weekend. The sun had set hours ago, but the street was still semi-lit from the city lights, sections of darkness broken by circles of lamp light, car headlights, and the muted glow of lit windows.

And yet, he still managed to hide within the shadows.

You wouldn’t have even noticed, if it weren’t for the fact that he had been an unfailing constant lately. Each time you exited the office, even if it was just to run down the street to the nearest food truck, he was there. Standing right across the street from your work building, intense stare fixed in your direction, tonight was no exception.

The first time it had happened, you had been sure you were hallucinating. Especially because no one else seemed to notice the tall figure, pedestrians passing by with no acknowledgement. It was as if he didn’t allow anyone to see him. Just you.

Habit made you glance across the street again, and sure enough, the shadowed outline of his lean form was still waiting between the patches of light. It was as if he had molded them to his own benefit, wrapping the night around himself so that only the inhuman flicker of his eyes glinted at you out of the darkness.

Loki, the God of Mischief, had been silently stalking you for weeks. And you had absolutely no idea why.

Starting down the street, you felt his presence as a prickle on the back of your neck. He was there as you walked a block over to the bus stop, and it was only when you were safely on board and in a seat that the sensation disappeared. You breathed a heavy sigh of relief, knowing he was gone. The reprieve was short-lived, since you also knew that he’d already be there when you got home.

Sure enough, once the bus exited the city and stopped near your block, the sensation of being followed returned. You walked quickly up the front path of your suburban home, hands shaking slightly as they fit the key into the front door. He never came too close, never followed you across the threshold, but the idea that he could made your mouth run dry. Once you were inside with the door closed and deadbolted, you went around double checking all the windows and the back door. Yep, still locked.

Peeking out between the blinds in the living room, your eyes scanned the moonlit yard, looking for movement. You didn’t see any, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t out there, lurking. For the millionth time you contemplated reporting him, but also for the millionth time you had no idea who exactly to tell. It wasn’t like you were highly-ranked enough to have Mr. Fury or the Avengers on speed dial. And the police would think you were having a mental break, since it seemed as though Loki could cloak himself from being noticed, even when in the middle of a crowd.

You had just started working for S.H.I.E.L.D a couple of months ago, as a low-level data interpreter. To say you were at the bottom of the totem pole was accurate, but you were prepared to work hard to elevate yourself within the organization. Sure, you’d never be an actual agent or spy, but there were upper level positions within your department that would one day have your name on them. You weren’t about to jeopardize those possibilities by creating waves while still in your probationary period, especially since you doubted your by-the-book, no-nonsense supervisor would do anything other than laugh in your face if you tried to tell him that a friggin god had chosen to follow you around. Hell, even your own family would probably assume you were overworked and delusional.

Which meant that you were stuck dealing with the issue of Loki yourself...and so far your grand master plan had been trying to ignore him in the fervent hopes that he would get bored and leave you alone.

Though he was impossible to totally ignore, you had made some progress with not lying in bed awake all night, staring at the ceiling and fearing the moment he’d decide to come inside the house. You still did this for about half of the night, but hey, progress. When he had shown no interest in crossing that boundary, you wondered if you were supposed to feel more terrified at his lack of intent, or safe with the knowledge that he was lurking around the house like your own personal security system.

And while you had at first been too scared to leave the office for lunch knowing he was out there, after a week of huddling in your cubicle you had been furious with yourself. It had been a piss-poor day anyways, and you had barely made it to an 8am meeting on time thanks to forgetting to set your alarm the night before (probably because you had been too busy stressing over the god lurking outside). Deciding that enough was enough, you had walked outside with head held high, ready to march down the street to the nearby deli. He had been there, of course he had, piercing gaze immediately zeroed in on you the moment you exited the building’s doors.

Lack of sleep and frustration making you feel bold, you had actually stopped and glared black at him. It was the first time you had been assertive enough to acknowledge him without any visible fear, and you were damn proud of yourself.

That pride had quickly turned to ash when the corners of his mouth curved slowly upwards, lips parting to showcase a sadistic smirk that caused your heart to drop into your ass, legs doing a 180 and practically sprinting you back into the building. Turns out you hadn’t been that hungry, after all. You had left the office for lunch a few times since then, but always kept your eyes pointed down at the sidewalk, never daring to nonverbally challenge him again.

Now, after checking for the umpteenth time that all the blinds were closed, you went through with your evening plans, the hot bath relaxing tense muscles and greasy pizza filling your soul as much as your stomach. And when you crawled into bed a few hours later and drifted off to sleep, you almost forgot about the powerful god who was stalking your every move. Almost…

~ ~ ~

Startling awake a few hours later, you sat up in bed and grabbed for the bedside lamp, flicking it on. Eyes squinting at the sudden brightness, you scanned the room with a pounding heart, relief washing over you at seeing that the corners were empty. It was just a dream, you soothed. It wasn’t real…

Said dream had been filled with flashing green eyes, lips twisted into a cruel grin, and a large, powerful form pinning you to the bed.

Licking bone-dry lips, you got out of bed and headed down to the kitchen for a glass of water. You didn’t turn on any other lights, both because you knew the layout of the house well enough to navigate it in the dark, and in hopes that your movement wouldn’t alert a certain visitor who might still be in the vicinity.

The microwave clock showed that it was a little after 3am, which meant you had only gotten a couple hours of sleep before the raven-haired god had once again disrupted your life. There were enough windows with moonlight streaming in through the blinds that you had no trouble navigating the kitchen. Not wanting to open the fridge and risk him seeing the light, you grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and went over to the sink, glancing out the small window above it but seeing only an empty yard.

The glass was half full when you felt every hair on your body stand up in warning. All those blinds had been shut earlier. You had checked them multiple times before going to bed. Your eyes flew back up, breath catching in your throat at the sight. Only seconds ago the view of the yard had been empty, but now…

Loki was standing mere feet away, on the other side of the glass. Moonlight lit up his features, the pale unblemished skin giving off an eerie glow as his emerald eyes burned into you through what, suddenly, felt like a pathetic excuse of a barrier. Shock and fear made your suddenly shaky fingers loosen their grip on the fragile water glass, causing it to fall into the sink and shatter. The noise was like a gunshot to your frozen state; you jumped and screamed in alarm before realizing the sound wasn’t from the window. Eyes jerked down to the sink, where pieces of glass lay scattered and sparkling in the dim moonlight. When you looked back up again, Loki was gone.

Suddenly, a wave of anger flowed through you, heating your blood and overtaking the fear long enough for you to make what, looking back, was a really fucking stupid decision.

You were so done with his shit, done with living in constant hypervigilance and fear because some god had decided to play with you like a bug in a jar. Without allowing yourself to fully process the stupidity of what you were about to do, you went over to the back door, opened it, and stormed out onto the porch.

Breath puffing with adrenaline, you glanced to your right, where Loki had previously been standing. Instead, there was only empty air. This served to piss you off more, as it was obvious that he was just toying with you. Well, you were done with the games.

“Listen up, asshole!” you shrieked at the empty yard. “I don’t know what your problem is, but-” you cut off abruptly as logic finally caught up to anger. Your brain was frantically waving a big, red ‘this is a really stupid idea’ sign and telling you to get back inside.

The flames of rage quickly fizzled out, replaced by an icy wave of fear when the asshole in question suddenly appeared in the middle of the yard, seemingly out of thin air. He stood silent and still as the night, all-black Asgardian clothing molded to his tall and proud form so that he blended in with the shadows.

You felt, more than saw, his eyes trail slowly down over your body, expression unreadable in the dim moonlight. You were suddenly very aware that you were only wearing a lavender tank top and grey sleep shorts, bare toes curling against the cool wood of the porch. The sheer vulnerability of your situation kicked-started the flight response, and you took a slow step backwards, not wanting to lose sight of what your survival instinct classified as a wild and unpredictable predator.

The plan failed instantly when Loki burst forward, black cape fluttering out around his form as he strode across the yard. You weren’t sure if he looked more like a fallen angel or avenging demon, but the effect was enough to jolt your body into motion as you turned and sprinted for the still-open back door.

Crossing the threshold, you felt a small spark of relief, thinking how he never came inside, that you just needed to get the door closed and…

He hit the wood with such force that you were thrown into the kitchen, stumbling back against the opposite wall when he stepped inside. His gaze zeroed in on you as he lifted one booted foot and kicked the door shut.

The loud slam made you jump, vocal cords suddenly coming back online as you opened your mouth to scream. He moved so fast that you didn’t even have time to consider fleeing, his hand cutting off the scream before it even left your throat. He slammed you into the wall, his palm so large that it covered the entire bottom half of your face and effectively cut off your oxygen. His other arm caged you in, palm flat against the wall right beside your head, making you feel utterly trapped. Eyes widening with terror, you clawed at his hand, fighting to breathe. You might as well have been an insect trying to stop an incoming shoe with all the difference your struggles made.

“You will be silent. Attempt to scream again, and I will choke the life out of you. Understood?”

His low, dark voice made you shiver with fear, but you were so desperate for air that you would agree to almost anything at this point, and so nodded frantically up at him. His eyes narrowed for a few moments, as if assessing your reliability, before sliding his hand down so that it lightly encircled your throat and anchored you to the wall.

Gasping in blessed oxygen, you panted up at him with heaving breaths, eyes shifting back and forth as you tried, and failed, to come up with an escape plan. If you thought he had been intimidating from a distance these past few weeks, it was nothing compared to the vision of him up close. He practically buzzed with power as his lean, muscular frame towered over you, the ebony-clad chest and shoulders blocking any view of the kitchen and back door. The fingers at your throat flexed slightly in silent warning, as if he could read your thoughts and was reminding you that escape was futile.

You looked up at him, still in shock and trying to process the fact that a literal god was in your kitchen. And not just any god, but one who had terrorized your city, made a crowd kneel at his feet, and declared his intent to rule the planet. His arrogance was legendary, his powers terrifying. And you were so, so fucked.

Glancing up, you took in his face, semi-shadowed in the moonlit kitchen. Flawless porcelain skin showcased features sharp enough to cut glass, your eyes scanning over his sternly clenched jaw and lips pressed into a tight grimace. They gave off a coldness that sent a shiver down your spine, but then you looked up past his straight, regal nose and found the blazing heat of his gaze. He was watching you intently, those cruel lips curving up the slightest bit at your obvious perusal.

Horrified to have been caught staring, your eyes quickly lowered, taking in the expensive fabric that covered his tall, powerful body. You felt him bend down, every muscle tensed in fearful anticipation when his face stopped right beside your own. You could practically feel the effort he made to reign in his strength, the capability for violence coiled tightly right below the surface of his skin. Still too scared to lift your eyes, you heard as he slowly inhaled through his nose before exhaling through his mouth, so that warm breath ghosted over the side of your neck and caused goosebumps to erupt across your flesh.

Holy crap, had he just sniffed you?!

He gave a dark chuckle at the noticeable shudder that ran through your body in response to his actions. The hand at your throat moved up to tightly grip your chin, tipping it upwards until your eyes fluttered up as well and were ensnared by his gaze.

He was taking you in, noting your eyes dilated with fear and mouth slightly parted as your chest heaved to take in panicked breaths. He seemed to catalog all of your reactions with a piercing intelligence, as if storing away the knowledge for later.

“Do you fear me, human?”

The low, rumbled words shouldn’t have been enticing, but you’d be lying to deny the stirring low in your gut that resulted from his voice whispering in your ear. It actually took a few seconds for the question itself to filter through your brain. Unable to nod with his fingers still gripping your chin, you instead gave a soft, breathy, “Yes,” which caused him to smirk.

“Good girl.”

Okay, now that definitely caused a reaction, your body heating up at the mixture of fear and praise he provided. Dear god, what is wrong with you?! Scream, fight, do something!

As if he could read the thoughts in your gaze, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Ah ah, little one. You’re not getting away until I allow it.”

Attempting one last ounce of bravery, you asked in a pleading voice, “Why are you doing this?”

His eyes lit up, as if he were impressed that you dared to question his motives. The fingers at your chin loosened slightly, his eyes watching as he moved a thumb slowly back and forth across your lower lip.

“This planet is exceedingly uninspiring, and I have found humans to be particularly boring. So I had to obtain entertainment in one form or another, didn’t I?”

Well that sure wasn’t the answer you had been expecting. All the weeks of following you around, scaring you to within an inch of your life as you tried to figure out what reasons he had for singling you out, and it was all because he was bored?

You were grateful to feel a spark of anger return at his callous response and utter disregard for what he had put you through these past weeks. Looking back later, you’d think that he had verbally poked at you on purpose, had wanted you to showcase a bit more fight to add to his entertainment of the situation.

Through gritted teeth, you said, “If we’re so boring, then why waste your time following me around?”

His fingers trailed back down over your throat, and for a moment you thought that your words had been a fatal mistake, that this was when he decided you weren’t worth the trouble and strangled you. Instead, his fingers flitted over the pulse in your neck, pausing there as if to measure its beating, before gliding further down and across your delicate collarbone.

“I said humans were boring.” The tips of his long, cool fingers slid underneath the right strap of your tank top, pushing it towards your shoulder. “I didn’t say that you were boring.”

Shocked into silence, you felt the fabric being dragged down over your arm, the neckline lowering with it so that the top swells of your breasts were visible. You felt like a rabbit caught in the hunter’s crosshairs, too scared to move outside the involuntary trembling that started in your knees and traveled up the length of your legs and torso.

“Please,” you whispered, staring up at him helplessly, beseeching him to let you go. Wanting this to all just be a dream in which he would suddenly disappear and you would wake up in your warm bed.

“Begging already?” he taunted. “But we’ve barely begun.”

With that, he grabbed the neckline of the tank top and yanked, the fabric no match for his inhuman strength as he literally tore it from your body. The cool air hitting your bare nipples was what thrust you into action, as you reached up to shove against his shoulders with all your might, hoping to make him stumble back long enough so that you could dart to the side and make a run for it.

Instead, you might as well have pushed against a stone wall, even the adrenaline-laced strength not making him retreat so much as an inch. The only reaction your action caused was him to huff out a dark laugh of amusement before he flung the tatters of the tank top to the side and leered down at your exposed flesh.

You watched, wide-eyed, as a large and surprisingly warm palm cupped your breast, testing the weight of it. The whimper that left your throat was purely out of fear, you told yourself, and had nothing to do with the sensation of him pinching your nipple between two of those slender and graceful, yet powerfully masculine, fingers.

“What delightful noises you make, pet. I’m eager to learn how many others I can wring from your lips.”

Oh god, this couldn’t be happening. The whole situation was too surreal, too overwhelming. Your brain couldn’t compute all the mixed signals it was getting from the rest of your body. Thighs trembled with fear and the desire to run, but your traitorous nipples were hard as stone, and not just from the chilly air.

Loki noticed as well, of course he did. He was a master of lies, and of reading them in others, so there was no way your body was going to fool him. A pleased look lit up his eyes, and the emerald blaze was too much, causing your own to squeeze tightly shut when he leaned in close.

The words were whispered from mere inches away, and they brought with them a pang of arousal that shocked you to the core. “Don’t fight it, girl. You were made to be ruled, to be owned. And I’m going to make you mine.”

You gave a little sob in response, but didn’t argue, didn’t struggle. Not even when the hand at your breast continued its pleasurable torment while his other hand left the wall to trail down over your ribs and waist until it met the top of your sleep shorts. The tips of his fingers hooked inside the fabric, and with one graceful movement he shoved both shorts and panties down over your hips, so that they fell in a pile at your feet and left your body completely bare.

“Step out of them,” he commanded, fingers dancing softly along your hip bone.

Frozen with indecision, your breath came in audible gasps as the mixture of fear, anxiety, and burgeoning desire made your head spin. The headstrong and independent mentality that was so self-ingrained insisted that you fight him to the very end. But there was another part of you, a hidden and previously unknown part, that wanted to do as he said. Wanted to give in and submit.

Before you could find out which side would win, the hand at your breasts leapt back up to your throat, the movement so quick that you barely had time to register it before your oxygen was cut off. Eyes flew back open in panic, but before you could even attempt to struggle, the long fingers of his other hand caught and held your wrists tightly together, effectively trapping you once again.

His face lowered directly in front of your own, his straight, white teeth bared as he snarled, “I said step. Out. Of. Them.”

At this point, you’d do just about anything he asked if it meant being able to breathe, and so obediently lifted first one foot and then the other out of the shorts and underwear. He used his own booted foot to shove the fabric so that it slid across the floor off to the side, but didn’t yet let up his grip on your throat.

Your vision was growing spotty from lack of oxygen as you choked and squirmed in his grip. He looked delighted at this, his gaze dropping down to watch your body’s involuntary twists and jerks before lifting back to your face.

“You’re a willful little human, I’ll give you that. But from now on, when I give an order, I expect you to obey. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded desperately, and when that didn’t seem to satisfy him, sputtered out a barely audible, “Yes”.

“Sorry, pet, I didn’t quite catch that. Try again.”

Certain you were about to pass out, you put all remaining energy into gurgling out another attempt of the word. It must’ve been enough, because he whispered ‘good girl’ at the same time his grip loosened, allowing you to cough and gag as your lungs frantically filled with air.

His hand stayed in place this time, splayed across your throat in silent warning, as his other palm released your wrists, coasted down the front of your body and, without any hesitation, delved between your thighs. When you tried to close them, he used his own leg to wedge yours back open, pressing his erection into your hip and making it clear where this was heading.

Those cruel yet seductive fingertips ran along your slit before dipping into the humiliatingly apparent wetness and spreading it up to your clit. He gave a hum of male satisfaction at your pleasured gasp, exploring your body in a way that made both shame and desire heat your skin. The tip of his finger teased at your wet opening, barely dipping inside. Your hips bucked, and you didn’t know whether it was an attempt to get away or move closer.

His voice was more raspy than before, when he asked in a condescending tone, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, my pretty little girl?”

You hoped he didn’t notice the way your pussy clenched onto the tip of his finger when he called you ‘his’, but judging by his groan, he had.

Slow, achingly slow, he pushed his finger inside you, the long digit reaching places that your own hands never could. Your head fell back against the wall with a soft thud, baring your throat to him, as desire officially overtook the will to escape.

“Yes, that’s it,” he cooed, the thumb of his other hand tracing over the rapid pulse that beat in the side of your throat. “Show how you belong to me.”

His words should’ve scared you, and they did in a far-off and hazy kind of way, but you were more focused on how he was pushing a second finger inside you. He rubbed them with knowledgeable precision against the sensitive front wall, making you cry out when they found your g-spot. And when his thumb also started rubbing quick little circles on your clit, you decided that maybe belonging to him wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.

He continued that way, relentless, his breaths coming in heavy puffs against your cheek as he finger fucked you roughly until the tension between your thighs coiled into a tight spring of need. Whimpering, you dimly realized that your hands were grasping desperately at his arms and your thighs had fallen open wide of their own accord.

“There you go, pet. Take your pleasure, be a good little girl.” The hand at your throat tightened slightly, just enough to make you have to work a bit harder to draw breath. “And then, I’m going to fuck you...and I’m not going to be gentle about it.”

The orgasm slammed into you unexpectedly, and it was unlike any you had previously experienced. The combination of his praise and threat, along with the motions of both his hands, sent your body soaring. Your cries were hoarse and strained from his grip at your throat, and your legs shook as you came all over his hand, his eyes flaring down at you with delight as your body convulsed against him.

He removed the hand from between your thighs, lifting his wet fingers to your lips and ordering you to open them. Still drunk off the orgasm, you did so without hesitation.

“Suck them clean. Taste your own desperation,” he purred, teeth nipping sharply at your ear as he ground his hips against you.

Once he was satisfied with your work, he removed his fingers from your mouth with a pop before reaching down to his crotch and starting to undo the fabric. You watched in silent awe as he removed just enough of the unearthly clothing to release his thick cock, the head a dark red and already glistening with precum. Despite your recent orgasm, you still felt a bit of apprehension, knowing it was going to be a tight fit. He gave it a few firm strokes with his fist before he grabbed your hips and twirled you around so that you were facing the wall, his feet pushing your legs open even wider, spreading you out for him.

It felt so taboo, his still fully-dressed, muscular body pressing into your naked back, his bare erection bobbing between your spread thighs. He was so tall that when the hand at your throat pushed upward, forcing your head to tip back until your face was parallel with the ceiling, he was able to lean down over you and make eye contact. You tried to look away, but his fingers pressed into your windpipe in retaliation.

“Eyes on me, girl. I want to see that little look of pain in your eyes when I press into you.”

Your eyes widened at that, causing him to chuckle. The tip of his cock notched at your opening, but he didn’t press forward, drawing out the tension of the moment.

“Who do you belong to?” he taunted.

Licking your lips with both anticipation and nervousness, you whispered, “You.”

He made a deep, approving noise in his throat. “Yes. Say it. Say my name.”

“Loki,” you answered with a cry, as he started to press his cock forward, your body twisting as it struggled to adjust to the wide head.

“No no, don’t tense up,” he hissed. “Take it. Take it all.”

With that, he pushed inside you with one long, slow thrust. You felt the slight burn as your body stretched to accommodate every thick inch. It must’ve shown in your face, because his lips curled into a smirk at the same time as he groaned deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against your back.

“Mmm, you suffer so beautifully for me. Look at you, taking all of my cock like a good little girl.”

The bastard knew what his words did to you, panting out a chuckle when he felt you involuntarily clench around him in response. Your hands were braced against the wall, back arched as he grasped your throat and hip with his hands and impaled you on his cock. You felt so full, so utterly overtaken when he ground his hips into your ass, as if to see just how deep he could go.

He withdrew slowly before thrusting back in, quick and harsh, causing you to cry out with the sharp pleasure-pain. He did it again, pulling his hips back agonizingly slow until the tip of his cock was resting at your entrance. He paused for a moment before pushing back inside, as if to recreate that initial claiming thrust. After doing this about half a dozen times, he stopped teasing and set up a steady and deep rhythm, each thrust sending sparks throughout your entire body.

Your eyes had started to flutter shut, but his hand cutting off your air caused them to reopen and focus up at him, his chiseled features hovering over you in the dim light, gaze searing down into your own. This time, you didn’t panic, didn’t tug at his arm, just stared up at him with desire-glazed eyes and let him do as he wished. You could practically feel his approval of your surrender, his fingers loosening long enough for you to draw a few breaths before tightening again.

“You’re so pretty like this, surrendering to me,” he growled through bared teeth, once again letting up on your throat so that you could gasp in air and let it out with a moan. “Every breath you take is mine. Every gasp from your lips, every flutter of your pulse...it’s because I allow it. And now, I’m going to fill up this cunt and claim it as mine.”

Your whimper was cut off as his hand tightened once more, hips picking up the pace as he thrust brutally into you, his balls smacking your clit and fingers pressing so deeply into your hip that you knew there would be bruises to match the ones at your throat. The edges of your vision were starting to become fuzzy when he let up for the last time, his hand lowering from your neck to run over your breasts, tweaking the nipples until you whined before continuing downward.

When his fingertips zeroed in on your clit, you let out a pleading noise which, under other circumstances, would’ve made you ashamed at how needy it sounded. You weren’t sure what exactly you were begging for, but you did know that he was the only one who could give it to you. The harsh bite of his cock dragging against your sensitive inner walls combined with the fast and skilled movements of his fingers drove you up to the edge, forehead dropping to the wall as you moaned uncontrollably, his answering grunts sending shivers through you.

The hand gripping your hip came up to wrap in your hair, pulling your head back so that you were once again looking up at him, and you couldn’t help but think that he was one of the most glorious creatures you had ever seen. His features looked as wrecked as you felt, cords in his neck standing out with stark relief in his pale, moonlit skin as his jaw clenched tightly, eyes focused unwaveringly on you. It was one of the most intensely intimate moments of your life, his piercing gaze breaking you wide open with nowhere to hide.

You started shaking uncontrollably, body balanced right on the knife’s edge of pleasure and wanting so badly to fall over into the abyss. His lips twisted knowingly as your pussy started to flutter around his cock.

“Yes, that’s it. Come for me.” The hand between your legs pressed in harder, moved faster. “Come for your god.”

As if the words were the final push your body needed, the orgasm flowed through you. It wasn’t as volatile a punch as the first one; instead, it drowned you in waves of blissfully intense pleasure that drew soft cries from your lips, the sound mingling with his own strangled groan. Leaning down, hand still fisted in your hair, he bit into your shoulder as he came. You felt his warm cum filling you as he did just as he promised, and claimed you as his.

Mind floating from the high of your orgasm and body trembling with little aftershocks, you felt his hips slow then still, his mouth moving from your shoulder to lick a trail of sweat that was running down the side of your neck. Whimpering, you couldn’t stop your hips from pushing back into his, grinding onto the softening cock that was still buried deep.

He hummed with approval, his hands running up over your sides, tracing your body with possession for a few long moments as both of your bodies calmed. Taking your earlobe gently between his teeth, he whispered, “You’re mine now. Anytime I want you, anywhere I choose. Is that clear, kitten?”

Part of you wanted to deny him, wanted to find the strength to fight back, now that the orgasmic stupor was starting to lift. Instead, your body responded of its own accord, head nodding with submission.

His lips pressed softly to your temple, making you gasp at the gentle touch. You realized dazedly that it was the first kiss he’d given you all night.

“Good girl.”

The words were said a moment before his body moved away, his cock slipping wetly from your body. The cool air hitting your back made you immediately miss his body heat. You turned around, unsure what to do or say next…

But he was gone.

The back door was slightly ajar from him disappearing into the night, leaving you standing there, naked and shivering, his cum starting to trickle down the inside of your thigh. Grabbing your shorts and panties, you put them on before finding the tatters of your tank top and holding it to the front of your chest. Walking over to the door, you closed it with a click that sounded unnaturally loud in the empty kitchen.

You went around to the windows and re-closed the blinds, stopping at the last one to glance out into the yard. It was empty, completely undisturbed, but you knew he hadn’t gone far...and that he wouldn’t be gone for long.

Leaving the broken glass in the sink to deal with in the morning, you grabbed another one, filled it with water, and headed for the staircase. As you tucked back into bed, body already sore in places that made your skin heat with the memory, you thought back over his final words.

You’re mine now. Anytime I want you, anywhere I choose.

You wondered when he’d return to make good on his promise...and as you drifted off to sleep, tried to ignore the dark part of you that hoped it would be soon.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Afterword: This is meant to be only a one shot. I know, I know, I left it very open-ended. But I like to leave something to the imagination, so y’all can create your own fantasy idea of what might happen to “you” next ;)

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frostsinth · 3 years

Text

A Line in the Sand - Pt. 3

Intro - Part 1|2 - MasterList - Art - Art

Ok, so this is kind of a conclusion chapter, but I left it open ended in case I want to revisit these two later. However, for now I have no plan to continue writing them. Perhaps some quick one-shots in the future, of various little snipits in their life. I just wanted to feel like this was more closed so I can continue with some other projects.

This is of course for the always lovely and patient @ivymemnoch of her Monster Match character Devaraj the reptilian monster (I prefer Nessiim, since I couldn’t decide between lizardman and dragonborn and he’s somewhere between the two). I hope everyone enjoys this soft fluffy fluff.

Like what you see? Check out my MasterList above for more babbles and stories. Please consider BuyMeACoffee while you are there. I’m open for art commissions, so please DM me if you are interested, but no writing commissions right now. As always, drop me an Ask if you have any thoughts or questions, I love to hear from everyone!

How had I gotten myself into this exactly? I wondered to myself for the hundredth time as I dropped like a sack of flour to the stone ground. Narrowly avoiding the projectiles of rocks lobbed at me from the other side of the deep cave. They clattered loudly when they landed, snapping and cracking in a way that almost distracted me from the cave’s resident. Almost.

It, or rather, ‘he’ as Deveraj insisted, did not seem in any way to be a mere spirit. Not how I would have pictured one. If I had to think of a word to describe it, I would have said… ‘tree’. But it needed more words than the one. Big tree. MOVING tree. A tree with branches that bent and wriggled and swayed like vines. Also, ‘wet tree’ would have been accurate, for while the texture of the creature was distinctly bark-like, it slithered and slapped about as it moved. Dripping what I hoped was water and sloshing about as it did. It had no head to speak of, or at least, no face. There was definitely a top to its weird mass of vines and branches that spun out from an almost humanoid torso. But I saw no eyes, no mouth.

Devaraj tucked and rolled neatly, coming to my side. A grin I took as wry was twisting his long mouth, and I would have scowled had I not currently been so preoccupied. Before the Nessiim could say anything though, we both had to dodge to opposite sides as a slapping limb cracked on the floor between us.

I noticed, as the spirit’s attention turned on me, that it seemed to keep its numerous branches and vines in limb-like shape. Two thick long columns where one might expect legs. Two long, extending protrusions where one would expect arms. Occasionally, the branches and vines diverged, but they always twisted back into the shape once more. This became more obvious as the creature advanced on me. Reaching out with snapping, rolling boughs.

I squealed, but couldn’t dodge quickly enough this time. And its arm-like appendages slowly started to wrap around me. They were wet. And I decided based upon the gooey quality it was probably not water as I had initially hoped. I also came to the realization that I had been wrong before; it did have a mouth. Which revealed itself to me as the spirit slowly dropped open its gaping maw, stepping in slowly as it entwined its branches around me. Flashing sharp white fangs amid a cavernous darkness. My heart ricocheted around my chest and throat in a rising panic to escape my breast.

“Yes! Excellent! Keep him there!” Devaraj exclaimed excitedly. “He seems to like you!”

I wriggled, sweat breaking across my brow as I struggled to keep the creature from wrapping its arms any further around me. “The feeling is not mutual!”

“It’s alright, Sera!” He called. “He is just frightened! I can feel it!”

The reptilian man stealthed closer, his booted feet moving with surprising quiet across the stone cave. And despite the panic threatening to choke me… I realized the spirit’s movements had slowed to an almost standstill. Its branches still slowly weaved around me, smearing me with thick slimy goo as they did. But it advanced forward carefully now. It still had no eyes to speak of, but that gaping maw seemed to be panting as it approached. A bit of drool dripped in a long strand from the corner of it, and I winced and grimaced as it leaned in closer.

I turned my head to the side as the spirit brought its ‘face’ to mine, and I could feel its hot, wet breath against my jaw. I don’t like this. I thought to myself, my heartbeat so fast it was just a thrum beneath my skin. I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t like this.

Devaraj’s deep voice reached me suddenly, murmuring in a strange, hissing tongue that seemed to form in his chest and move through his body without ever passing through his lips. The spirit appeared to pause at the sound of his voice, and I saw it start to turn back to look at him over his shoulder from the corner of my eye. Though I decided the word “look” was in liberal use now, as it still had no eyes to speak of. Still, it continued to curl tighter and tighter around me. Enveloping me in its slimy limbs, rubbing the rough bark against my skin. I was too busy struggling against its strong grip to shake in fear, but I could taste it plainly on my tongue.

As my employer stepped closer, I saw him lift up one palm, then gently place it on the creature’s shoulder. Those startling yellow eyes of his closed, and a soft hum seemed to fill the air. Curling tendrils stopped, and the spirit paused. Its head tilting to the side. As if it were hearing something I could not.

“There you are.” Came Devaraj’s thick voice. And at it, the spirit seemed to relax.

The tight branches wound about me suddenly came loose, and I dropped heavily back to the floor. I gave a soft gasp of pain as my bottom hit the stone, but was distracted by the soft glow now emanating from the chest of the spirit before me. Its limbs shrunk and twisted, its outline changed. My eyes went wide as a face began to form around the toothy mouth, which was shrinking itself. Into soft lips, and a delicate shape. The remaining branches tightened together, smoothing into one, and away purled the bark-like texture, leaving behind skin. Glowing blue-white skin, but definitely skin. And a distinctly human form.

He looked like he was formed of light. His eyes blinked (he had eyes now!), and he glanced over at Devaraj. I could still see his irises through his lids when he closed them. His whole body was mostly see through, but still had the distinctness of solidity. It was confusing, but also… strangely beautiful.

The spirit opened his mouth, and a soft breathy sound escaped it. It made a shiver slip down my spine and goosebumps run across my skin. I couldn’t hear words in the voice. But I saw his lips move in a poor imitation, as if he was forming something in his mouth.

Devaraj nodded. “Yes, friend. You are in the craigs beyond the town.” He replied, answering some question I had not heard. The spirit turned to face him more. “Do you remember how you got here?”

A slow head cock, a quizzical look pinching his brows. Again, that soft, breathy sound. It was almost like a whisper, breathed in and out through the lungs, but with no definition or shape to it. Nothing I could distinguish anyways. My employer did not seem to have the same issue.

“Ah, yes, I see. But she is not here.” The Nessiim gestured to me, and I stiffened as the spirit’s eyes turned back to me. “This is Sera, not your wife. Do you see her clearly now?”

I met those strange, glowing eyes nervously. Trying not to visibly shake where I still sat on the floor. Then suddenly, I felt a dull ache in my chest. A longing, a sadness. I was taken aback by it, and as I looked at the spirit, I could almost see those emotions blinking across his face.

“I’m sorry.” I told him, the words coming to my lips as instinctively as the air came to my lungs.

Again the spirit seemed to tilt his head from side to side, and that whispering breathing speech came out after a long pause. His hand came up, and I stiffened as those glowing fingers wisped across the edge of my jaw. Tracing its shape down to my chin.

Devaraj chuckled, and I nervously glanced over the spirit’s shoulder at him. “He says you are very kind, Sera, and almost as beautiful as his wife.” The reptilian man explained, a mischievous glint in his sharp yellow eyes. “He is glad you came to help him.”

I blinked stupidly, then looked back at the spirit. He stared at me quietly for another long moment, and I felt a few beads of nervous sweat prick the back of my neck. Finally, he straightened, and spoke again. Devaraj did not answer at first, nodding along with what I imagined might be taken for a thoughtful expression on his face. At the end of his strange, whispering words, the glowing shape turned back to my employer, who bowed to him slightly.

“It would be my honor, good sir.” He assured him. “Consider it done.”

Relief flooded through me, rising from someplace deep in my heart. But I could not quite place where it had come from. Only I knew it was not mine, despite its strange familiarity. I watched as the spirit considered me one last time, then took a step back, fading into a soft, wispy twist of blue smoke. And then, just like that... he was gone.

“Come.” Devaraj intoned, turning towards the back of the cave we had entered not one hour before. I spent a few more moments blinking at the spot where the spirit had just been, not fully hearing him until he called my name from the far wall.

“W-what are you doing?” I asked, scrambling numbly to my feet and darting over. Glancing about anxiously as I shlucked the last of the goo from my arms in case the strange phenomenon I had just experienced would have a repeat performance at any moment. I decided it was probably be best to be near the larger man if that was a possibility.

He kneeled down, sweeping his hand delicately over a pile of what appeared to be rubble to me. “Fulfilling his final wish.” He replied, and his long, claw tipped finger hooked around his prize.

As he lifted the glittering necklace from amid the stones, his elongated mouth curled up. Twisting into that strange smile. Once a frightening smile, but now I couldn’t help but feel a mirror of it curl upon my own lips as his intense eyes met mine.

“What is it?” I breathed, a little surprised to be nearly as excited as he was.

My heart thudded a few of its previously missed beats out of rhythm as Devaraj stood and the movement brought him precariously close to me. I swallowed hard to find the shape of my tongue in my mouth again as I had to drop my head back to look up at him. His scaly lips peeled back lightly to reveal his sharp white teeth, and his eyes seemed to sparkle with delight at my question. I didn’t even notice his big hand come around and clap lightly onto my shoulder.

“This, Sera, is the necklace of his wife.” He slowly brought it down, and nodded encouragingly as my hands hesitated to reach for it. “He asked that we return it to their shared grave. It seems some errant fools disturbed their final resting place, and he was wont to unrest until it was returned.”

I delicately cupped the ancient looking pendant in my hands, tracing one thumb over it. It felt warm, as though it had only just previously been removed from its seat at someone’s collarbone for my inspection. As my thumb traced the gem, a corresponding warmth pulsed in my chest, and I felt my smile soften.

“They must have been very fond of it.” I exclaimed softly, entranced by the way the dim light of the shallow cave caught the metal.

A rumbling sound came from my companion’s chest, agreeable and soothing. “I would agree. Such sentiment carries long after death. But come,” He squeezed my shoulder lightly, “Let us return it, so that they may once more be at peace.”

“Why was he all the way out here with it?” I asked, following behind him obediently with barely a side glance as we exited the cave. It felt different as we left. Less hostile and menacing. Now it was just… hollow. Lifeless stone, silent amid the small patch of trees.

“It seems the theft left him so enraged, he had quite forgotten his original purpose for rising.” Devaraj mused, lifting a low branch to allow me to pass with more ease. “He followed the would-be thief here, then was tethered to the place. Unable to travel far from it once the robber abandoned his prize and fled for his life. Unfortunately, this is a common story.”

I kept both hands clasped around the necklace, holding it close to my heart. It made me feel better, for some reason, and I didn’t bother to question it. “But how do we make sure no one tries to take it again?”

The corners of his lips twitched, and I saw his thin pupils flick to me out the corners of his eyes. “... Would you endeavor to take it, Sera?” He returned. “I am certain it must be quite valuable.”

I didn’t hesitate, shaking my head quickly. “N-no… Not this…” I paused, my step faltering, and slowly brought the pendant away from my heart to peer down at it. “It… it is too special…”

“I thought as much.” He sounded pleased, and my head jerked as I looked up at him in surprise. He bared his teeth at me, and his long tongue flicked out. “You have a particularly powerful dushrasha, Sera. I noticed the moment I met you.” I opened my mouth to respond, but he had already turned and was making his way between the trees to the open plains beyond once more. “As to your question, I shall make sure it is properly interred and warded against such things for the future. That should ensure the husband and his wife might rest in eternal peace together.”

“W-wait!” I stammered, clutching the necklace to my chest once more and sprinting after him. “What did you mean? What you said before, about my… um…”

“Your dushrasha.” He offered, but didn’t slow his long stride. Now that we had left the small copse of trees behind, I was finding it difficult to keep up with him on the beveled plain. “It is as I said, Sera.”

“You said… but…” I darted around to stand in front of him, blocking his path. “Wait!”

Devaraj stopped, the ridges of his brow raising slightly. I saw his tongue skitter out once more, and he tilted his great horned head to the side. “What troubles you, Sera?”

“You said you noticed the moment you met me.” I craned my neck back again to look up at him. “What do you mean? What did you notice?”

“It is as I said,” He sounded slightly puzzled, “Your dushrasha is particularly powerful. Especially for a human. I have not seen one its like since I first came to your lands.”

“... You can see it?”

He hummed softly at this, nodding slightly as if the reasoning behind my words was suddenly clear to him. “Yes, in a sense. I am a master prizrasha, after all.”

I waited, but when there seemed to be no further explanation forthcoming, I sighed heavily. I spared a glance about, hesitating, then looked down at the pendant still tightly clasped in my palms. It didn’t matter. I told myself. I was planning on leaving soon anyways. I didn’t need him to explain anything, I didn’t need to know... I should just be happy to be safe again. It seemed the longer I stayed with this strange man the more hazardous my life became… still, my chest burned with questions.

“... You are unsatisfied with this answer?” Devaraj suggested.

Again, I hesitated, then managed to find a bit of courage to look up at him. “I just.. I don’t understand…”

He nodded. “That is not a crime, Sera. You can not be expected to know everything there is to know.” He cocked his head to the opposite side. “Would you like to understand?”

I swallowed nervously again, shifting from foot to foot. “... I-if you think I can.”

The reptilian man scoffed, and his fat tail twitched. “Of course! I am happy to explain.” I jumped slightly as his big hand scooped into the crook of my elbow. “Come, Nur is not far from here. I can tell you more on the way.”

“I-I don’t mean to be a bother-”

“I can sense dushrasha,” He continued, interrupting me as if he hadn’t heard me speak at all, his hand still gently tucked into the bend of my arm, “In the way you might see light sparkling out of falling water, or in the mists.” He gave me a soft tug, prompting me to pick up my pace to match his stride, which he thoughtfully shortened to accommodate me. “Most I cannot ‘see’, so to speak, without some effort on my part. A… what is this word… meditation, perhaps, or a spell. Though these are still not the right words.” His tail twitched, brushing against the long grass with a soft rustling as we passed. “But yours… I can see it… no, I do not like this word either…” He fell silent, his long tongue flicking out as he debated it for a moment. “I can feel it.” Fierce eyes fixed on me, peering down over his scaled cheeks. “It is warm. I like how it feels.”

My pace slowed as I processed this, and again, he slowed to match. I hadn’t even noticed he had left his hand cupped around my arm. He turned me slowly to face him as I chewed it over, my thumbs absentmindedly running over the pendant clasped between them.

“... Does it mean something?” I asked, surprised with my own timid voice. “To… have a… um…”

His long tongue snaked out again, and his scaled brows raised as his lips pursed out slightly. Thoughtful, I decided, cataloging the shape his foreign features took in application of this. Every moment that passed, I realized I was finding him easier and easier to read. I shifted from foot to foot nervously.

“For the Nessiim, it is a blessing.” He began, seeming to pick his words as he went. “For us, warmth is… is everything. And so a warm dushrasha… Well, it is very near divine.”

“Divine?” I echoed, a little flabbergasted, already shaking my head. “I-I’m certainly not-”

“I know this is not your belief, Sera.” he told me, and I felt his hand slowly slide down my arm. Gently pulling one of my hands free from the pendant to cup in his. “But I would still like to keep you with me… If you would be willing.” He ran his clawed thumb out, pushing my fingers apart gently to run its pad over my palm.

I felt a hot flush rise to my face, and my breath stuttered in my throat. “O-oh, I-I mean…” My thoughts raced about a mile a minute, and I couldn’t quite seem to keep my heart in my chest where it belonged. I slowly pulled my hand out of his, and started to back away. “I don’t… I don’t know if…”

“Apologies, Sera,” He interjected quickly as I struggled to speak, “I am certain that came off as far too forward. I did not mean it to sound quite so… ah, what is word…” His big horned head cocked to the side. “I mean to say only that I enjoy your company. Your warmth.” Sharp teeth flashed out, and his elongated mouth curled up. Yellow eyes glinting. Comforting. Reassuring. I documented it, blinking at him slowly. “I would like to continue our relationship. And explore it further.”

“E-explore?” I mumbled, taking another step back. My heart skipping.

He nodded. “Yes! You are an excellent assistant!” His forked tongue appeared ever so briefly before disappearing back between his lips. The thoughtful look returned. “I am not sure if a human can become a prizrasha, but I would be willing to teach you, if you would like.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Oh.”

His gaze flicked over me. “You are surprised?”

I swallowed hard. “I-I thought you… umm…” I flushed an even deeper shade of red. “N-no, nevermind.” I suddenly remembered the pendant in my hand, and looked down at it. Thinking and chewing over everything he had just told me. “... You want me to be your apprentice?”

“Is this the word?” Devaraj replied, his voice curious. “Apprentice? I like it. It has a pleasant hiss at the end. Assistant has one at the beginning, but it is less satisfying. I cannot linger on it.” He nodded again. “You have a natural talent, I think, Sera. You might enjoy this work.”

I glanced over his shoulder at the craigs where we had encountered the spirit. “I don’t know…”

I jumped as the large lizard man closed the space between us with a single stride, and boldly took up my free hand again. I had to crane my neck back to look up at him, and his tongue flicked at the tip of my nose as I did.

“It is up to you, Sera, of course. I sense you are… restless with me still.” He ran his thumb over my knuckles, his chin angled down slightly. “Perhaps you wish to leave.”

I choked on my next breath. Had I really been so obvious? Or was that talent of being a prizrasha? A stab of guilt hit me solidly, and I thought to pull my hand out of his again. His fingers tightened around it as it twitched in his grasp. Gentle, cool to the touch, but firm. As if to tell me that it didn’t matter; he didn’t mind. It didn’t hurt him to know I had such plans. I felt my heart skip erratically at his touch, yet I didn’t fight his grip further. I was surprised to find myself… strangely comforted by it.

“I’m… I just…”

“I like you, Sera.” He told me as I dropped off again. “I like your wit, and your warmth. I like your curiosity, and your good heart. Much as you try to hide it.” I glanced up at him, and he curled his lips upward more softly. Fondness, I decided. A warmth of its own… I cataloged that expression in a special place beside my throbbing heart. “If you want to leave, I understand, and I won’t stop you… But I would like very much if you would stay with me.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” I half whispered, distracted by the way the fading sunlight glinted in his eyes.

He cocked his head back to the side. “Do I need to?” I twitched as his tongue flicked the tip of my nose again. “I don’t need to know your history to like who you are. I am certain you would share it with me in time, or that you do not wish me to know. Either way, it does not matter to me.”

“You don’t even know my name!” I argued.

His smile returned. “You are Sera. You have the warmth of the sun in your dushrasha.” One brow raised slightly. “... That’s what ‘Sera’ means, you know.” He nodded, and I decided this expression of his was smug. “It means ‘fiery one’, and we use it in greeting to the sun.”

I stared at him, slack jawed. “... You named me after the sun?”

His expression changed again, softer around the edges. I could see the subtle movements of the muscles beneath his scales. “... Yes. It seemed most fitting… and… I would court you better, if I knew how.”

I jerked as if he had slapped me. “C-court me??”

Another nod, but shallow. Timid. He was avoiding my eyes now. “Yes, Sera. I find you… fascinating. I like to be near you. I like the smell of you. But I do not know how humans approach this matter.” He shifted in place, still looking off to the side. “And I thought perhaps you would not find appeal in a Nessiim like me…”

I laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of that, bewildered and shocked. Did the man not know how handsome he was?? I stopped short as his eyes jumped to me, and felt my face flush hot as the realization hit me as well. Those fierce eyes shifted to the side again, and he seemed to curl back from me. He began to pull his hand away, and I felt my fingers suddenly tighten around his. Devaraj paused, looking at me with his scaly brows raised and his eyes wide.

“I-I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh… I was just surprised.” I told him quickly. “I was… um… I didn’t think you meant to… ah…”

“I did not, at first.” He assured me softly, and I noticed him take a tiny step closer to me. A bit of his confidence restored as my fingers remained around his. “But… I have been thinking about it since we first met yesterday. It seems like masiimir, no? That of all the doors you could have opened, it was mine you walked through.”

“Masiimir?” I echoed, still flushed and my tongue feeling far too large for my mouth.

He shifted his jaw, obviously trying to find the proper translation and working his tongue around his mouth while he did. “Masiimir… ah, as if planned, yes? As if some higher being or power or such thing made it so we should meet. As if it was already written for history to remember that way.”

I shifted, glancing down at our hands. “Fate.” I told him softly.

His strong fingers squeezed mine gently. “I am a stranger to these lands. Yet in you I feel a piece of my home.” I peeked up at him through my lashes, and noticed him curl his thick neck down, his muzzle coming closer to my temple. “You were looking for a place to hide… and I offer you a place to belong.” He gave a deep, hissing sigh. “Perhaps I look into this too much, but… It is custom for Nessiim to begin courtship when they meet a potential partner. We are not ones for wasting energy on uncertainties.”

I hesitated again, looking back down at my hand which looked so tiny in his. I thought back over the last two days, and felt my heart flip a few times in my chest. I tried to press back the overwhelming thoughts and emotions that assaulted me. Tried to pull some sort of cohesiveness from their midst. It all seemed to crash into me at that moment. Everything that had happened. The strange draw I felt, the reluctance to leave.

“... Would you be alright with this, Sera?” He asked me quietly, and I realized we had been standing in silence for more than a few moments. “May I court you? It will likely be a fair bit experimental at first. I am uncertain how human courtship differs from Nessiim, but I am eager to explore it.” He cleared his throat, glancing off to the side. “But I will only pursue this if you are… erm… interested, I believe is the correct word.”

I swallowed, my head beginning to throb. “Oh… well…” I closed my hand tighter around the pendant still clutched in my other palm. Then glanced at our clasped hands again. I couldn’t hear anything beyond the thrum of my own heart, and I struggled to keep myself from quivering. “I… well…” My cheeks were so red, I was surprised they didn’t catch fire. I glanced at him out the corner of my eye again, and saw him watching me carefully with those intense eyes of his. I cleared my own throat. “I would… I-I would be interested...” I stammered out finally. “In you… ah, in you courting me, I mean.”

I jumped slightly as his nose nudged against my cheek gently, and I felt his tongue flick out to skip against my jaw. He dropped my hand, and skimmed his fingertips along my wrist and up to my arm.

“... For my people, it would be customary next to ask you to sun bathe with me.” He told me. “That we might share our warmth, and learn more about each other’s bodies.”

I nearly squeaked, but looked up at him. “Ah… W-would that require clothes?”

He chuckled, a deep and rolling sound. “Humans are more reserved with their skins, yes? If it makes you more comfortable, it is the company kept that is important.” When I didn’t pull away from his touch, he snaked his hand around my waist, stepping closer so I had to crane my head back to look up at him. “But I would be pleased to once again share warmth with you, Sera.” He nudged me with his nose again, and I turned slightly to look at him out the corner of my eye. His fierce yellow eyes looked somehow soft in the afternoon sunlight. “Nessiim bond through touch... How do humans bond with their partners?”

I felt my pulse throb beneath my cheeks, and laughed nervously. “W-well… we uh… spend time together… we talk…” He nodded along with my words, and goosebumps raced across my skin as his tongue flicked against my collarbone again. “... We kiss…”

“Kiss?” He echoed, and my ears burned. “What does it mean? I like this word, the sound is most pleasant on my tongue.”

I shifted the pendant in my grip, looking down at it as I became flustered. “Oh… I-it’s… it’s hard to describe…” I peeked at him again, and felt my lips tingle as I did. A powerful urge came over me, and I swallowed hard. “Maybe… I should show you?”

He nodded eagerly. “I would like to see.”

I hesitated, feeling my heart thrum in my chest, beating recklessly against my ribs. I swallowed again, slowly slipping my hand from his. Again, I paused, belying a breath that skipped from my throat with a wispy quality, then gently rested my palm against his broad cheek. Then I debated how best to go about it, as his mouth protruded a fair bit from his face, and I realized it might not work the same. Could he even feel my skin against his scales? He did have lips, of course, but were they as… dexterous as mine? I gently used my hand on his cheek to tilt him into position, hesitating again. He watched me quietly, curiously. Finally, I leaned forward, and pressed my lips against the cool scales at the point of his snout.

Beneath my kiss, I felt the scales move, felt his mouth part slightly. I drew back after half a moment, flushing dark and uncertain. But suddenly, his arm hooked the rest of the way around my waist, and he tugged me closer to his body. Tucking me into the curve of his chest and craning his thick neck to nudge me gently with his nose.

“... I like this thing.” He purred, and I shivered to feel it move beneath my palm and through his chest pressed against me. “This… ‘Kiss’...” He nuzzled against me again. “... Is there a daily limit on ‘kiss’? Or can we do it more? I would like to try.” His long tongue flicked out, brushing across my lips.

I laughed shyly, tilting my head down to hide the bright scarlet color filling my cheeks. “No, there’s not a limit-”

“Good.” He interrupted, and I snuck a glance back up at him, my hand at his jaw coming down to rest against the broad scales on his chest. Devaraj’s mouth split, revealing his sharp teeth. “We must return the pendant first… but then I would like to explore your ‘kiss’ more, if you are willing.” His tongue came out again, skimming over my lips once more. I shivered with excitement at the touch. “And perhaps then I can show you what Nessiim do with their mouths...”

To be continued?

#lizardman boyfriend #lizardman lover #lizardman #dragonborn boyfriend #dragonborn #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster x human #terato #exophilia #reptilian monster #reptile boyfriend #tails-and-scales

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

HASO, “The Veil.”

More things are slowly being revealed about my universe, and I hope you like it. This was an interesting exercise in writing.

Deus

...

Adam freezes in place.

The red mist swells and churns around him as the monoliths tower high overhead.

The word echoes and repeats down the vast streetways and up into the high reaches of the cavernous spaces overhead blending with the moaning of creaking metal.

He turns in a sharp circle and immediately begins a broadcast to the ship, “Omen one this is admiral vir calling for immediate backup. I am not alone, I repeat, I am not alone.”

He got only static back.

Frozen in place and staring into the res haze, he becomes very unsettled as he notices a thickening in the clouds, great billowing resthat presses downward from above, covering the monoliths where they had once been rather visible.

He couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him now, and hugs the wall tight with fear gripping his chest. He reaches down to his hip and unholsters the gun that is strapped there.

The advanced sensory systems in his gloves transfers the feeling of hard metal directly into his fingertips. He kept his finger outside the trigger guard, worries being jumpy would lead him to doing something stupid.

He looks up and sees nothing but resmist.

It continues to billow around his feet, and now it is getting hard to see his hands.

He presses his back against the wall as he scoots back in the direction he had come following the map on his wrist indicator.

The Geiger counter on his wrist blinks to life and inside his helmet he begins hearing the slow rattling clicks as he is given an audio indication of the radiation. It seems to be rolling in with the fog.

That hardly makes sense as he hasn’t been detecting any hint of radiation before this, but he supposes small concentrations of smoke is nothing like the billowing mist that now surrounds him. He keeps his back against the wall as the clicking grows faster.

The radiation is rising, though he isn’t much worried about its effects on him. The suit was designed to withstand radiation in the direct light of a star, so it doesn't much concern him.

What concerns him is the slowly invading ressmoke, and how he can no longer see his own hand in front of his face.

His breathing comes hard and fast inside his helmet creating a surprisingly humid environment inside the climate controllessuit.

He turns off all of his lights as the billowing smoke keeps interfering with his line of sight, and he has a horrible feeling that the light is only giving him a halo effect, and making him more obvious to whatever could be watching him.

That voice hasn’t spoken in some minutes, and in a way he almost begins to believe that it was some sort of hallucination. Perhaps it was all a figment of a torturesimagination on a strange alien world, and nothing was watching him after all. Maybeit was some sort of auditory hallucination brought on by an imbalance of atmosphere inside his suit.

He looks down to check his wrist indicator, but pauses halfway there. If that isn’t the case, he isn’t sure he wants to know. The thought of the voice being real scares him more than he would like to admit, so he stays quiet and keeps his way along the wall.

If he can just make it back to his ship, then he knows he ill be fine.

He feels better in the air than he does on the ground after all.

He is a pilot, and any issues he could run into while in the air are things than he is comfortable dealing with.

He has reached the edge of the monolith now, feeling it’s cold steel pressing against his back.

The red mist swirls before him so thick that the scattered light reaching through to him is no better than the last fingers of twilight.

He stares into the abyss.

He is breathing hard and his fingers tingle inside his gloves with his back pressed against the wall.

He takes a deep breath glancing quickly down the side passage as he hears a deep and low groaning. He knows it is probably just the metal monoliths creaking overhead, but he can’t help but think about the Ancient Greek Labyrinth and the minotaur that wandered it's corridors.

Quickly,he kicks the gravity fields on his boots to life,and presses back against the wall in preparation to launch himself forward into the mist.

He is just readying himself to push off the wall when...

Suddenly his fingers are touching nothing.

His breath catches in his throat, cutting off a scream as he silent pitches backwards into darkness.

His hands flail and his feet kick for a second before a hard impact reverberates through his suit, knocking the wind from his body.

His vision is completely obscured by blackness.

He can’t breath.

Adam rolls onto his side gasping and choking mouth opening and closing like a fish as his stunned diaphragm struggles to take in air.

A warning light on his suit begins going off as his blood oxygen content takes a sharp downward spike.

He rocks from ide to side in a panic trying to find his breath again, and finally gasps in a loud wheeze of air.

The warning light in his suit slows down before finally stopping.

He lays on his side in the darkness gasping and taking long, slow deep breaths groaning slightly as he regains his breath. The suit’s warning lights fade and then vanish.

He is left alone in the dark breathing heavily.

Adam rolls onto his stomach and then onto his hands and knees. The sensors in the suit’s gloves can detect the hard smoothness of the metal under his hands. He doesn’t see anything else at first, and is about to turn on his lights when a soft resglow begins out of the darkness. At first, he thinks it is just a hallucination or his imagination like he assumes the voice had.

But the light continues to grow, and, as it does, others join it.

A hundresmaye even be a thousand glowing resorbs about the size of his fist or a little bit bigger.

They line the hallway before him clustered on the walls and on the floor in groups that reminde him, not so comfortingly, of alien parasitic spores from popular science fiction.

He tries to crawl backward, but his foot hit something hard, and he turns to find a dark metal surface slick and impenetrable lit up by reslight.

He swallowes hard.

He was alone,

He tries engaging his comm though nothing works, and he was simply left alone in the silence.

Inside his chest, his heart pounded, and he does his best to breathe slowly and evenly.

With some trepidation, he stands and begins forward into the hallway.

The one mission he had actually wanted to bring other people on, and he couldn’t. The shuttles were to clunky to handle an atmosphere like this and far too large to navigate all of the strange obstacles that he had spotted on his way down. It had been a one man job to make it here, and it looked like it was going to be a one man job getting out.

Sure the marines could take the pods down at his request, and they probably would if they receive his transmission, but he would rather they didn’t it is far too dangerous.

Red light spills in through his face mask and glows off his skin.

The little red orbs pulse slowly brighter and then fading away giving him the foreboding impression of a beating heart or blood rushing through veins. The very thought itself sends shivers up his back as he makes his way down the dark hallway.

He doesn’t realize it at first, but the expanse was much larger than he had thought, and the hallway in which he walks spannes quite wide, across a great entrance hall -- or so it seems to him.

As he walks, the hallway seems to morph until it is no more a hallway but a large room.

Pillars rise up at the center, covered in the clusters of little red pulsing orbs.

The room is massive, so large in fact, that he can barely make out the ceiling in the darkness aboe, it seems to rise up into the very tops of the monolith itself.

The vastness of the room makes him feel very small, but he continues walking, knowing there is no point in going back.

If he is going to find a way out, it is going to have to be forward.

His heart continues to hammer in his chest as he passes massive pillar by massive pillar.

Again he is struck by how large the room is, and consequently, the size of the pillars, which are larger than redwood trunks and spout the little red obs like barnacles sprout on the bottom of a boat.

He doesn’t realise it until he exits the forest of pillars that he has not even reached the center of the room yet. He is just at i’s fringes and now that the pillars are gone, he can see across the vastness of the room to where an alien structure stands dormant.

He shivers as soon as he sees it.

Whatever it is…. It is wrong…. alien …. And unknowable.

His eyes try to follow its outline, but make it only a few feet before becoming confused and going nowhere.

It is a mass tangle of metal, constructed like a strange alien protein or some kind of warped sea creature.

The more he looks at it, the more his eyes churn in confusion.

He tires to look away, but that doesn’t help much.

He shakes his head.

The weird tangled structure sits at the center of the room, all alone.

He wants to stay away from it, but at the same time he feels pulled towards it. He knows it is completely irrational, like all of the teenage girls in cheep horror movies going into the dark places instead of following their instincts.

He had always thought that those were unrealistic, but now he can see that he was wrong.

He understands the feeling as he is pulled across the open floor and towards the structure.

Like everything on this strange planet, he has immediately underestimated the size of the structure. As he grows closer, it towers over him, a massive twist of wicked metal swirls, infinite and completely unfathomable in the human eye.

Its almost two, maybe even four stories tall, and stretches out far enough to completely encompass a small building or even a house.

His skin prickles.

The same feeling as if he is being watched.

He glances over his shoulder but sees nothing.

He then looks towards the structure wonderin if something could be hiding in it. Is it some sort of alien nest? Are hose things on the wall its offspring.

Is he going to die here.

He stands there for many minutes, unsure of what to do or where to go.

Where is he going to find a way out?

He turns back to the structure.

It sits quietly.

He shivers.

Its a strange feeling, it seems as if it is watching him, in the same way a person watches you or an animal, but as if you know that the animal can speak but is simply choosing to withhold that ability.

Like it was being INTENTIONALLY silent.

He takes a step back but stops.

Krill would kill him if he knew.

He always warned adam against the kind of impulses he is getting now, but he cant seem to help himself.

Before he knows what he is doing, he reaches out a hand his fingers splayed wide as he reaches towards the strange object.

His fingers remble a little.

And then they make contact.

At first he feels nothing until a sensation registers through his gloves.

The object is soft…. And warm….

…

Organic

….

He only has a split second to register this feeling before he is assaulted by a force so powerful he can barely comprehend it.

Knocked out of his mind.

Completely out of space and time.

His vision is obscured by blackness, though he feels as if he is spinning, his body whirling repeatedly end over end in some sort of eternal cartwheel. Though he cannot see he can sense a void of eternal blackness all around him stretching out to infinity on all sides

He cannot fathom how long he spins it could be a simple moment or it could have been a thousand years. His body does not register time in this palace, almost as if there was no time to register.

He is simply a conscience in a void of eternal darkness.

And then…. Light.

All around him an eruption of light, a massive expansion outward that begins from everywhere and nowhere all at once. His vision is filled with blistering heat though there is no pain. He is simply enveloped by a wall of white. And where there once was eternal darkness, there is only light.

It fills his vision and spills through him like a river of molten gold, rushing through his veins with a wave of fire and ecstasy incomprehensible by the human mind: a feeling no drug could ever touch.

He can feel it burning at his fingertips and toes, pushing his skin till it seems to burst and light leaks out through the cracks.

He is one with the light.

Part of it.

Enveloped completely.

There is no time, and no space, just the burst of light.

Then before him the light begins to condense, collapsing inwards to show the darkness once more, but, this time, instead of just one or the other, the points of light cluster together on a backdrop of blackness, sharing the space neither one dominating over the other.

The light continues to unfold, curling outward like a swirling sinuous body before outstretching great wings of stars.At once it seems like a massive dragon is stretched across the sky before its silhouette fades and it is gone, its body fading backwards into the illuminating mass.

He can finally comprehend what he is seeing as he watches stars form inside fields of gas at billions of times the speed. He watches them swirl together in great spiraling forms.

His body is shot through space at what must be trillions of times faster than the speed of light, though it seems to be no more than a gentle float through the vastness,, passing by towering spirals of stars and gas making galaxies and trails of stars hung like ribbons.

He reaches out a hand, feeling though not seeing and feels hot embers of flame across his fingers as he takes his hand through a field of stars causing them to burst away from each other like scattering dandelion fluff.

Infinity continues on below him and above him and to all sides of him.

The stars spin and so does his mind.

His thoughts are still even as they race, held together simply by the gravity of his own consciousness.

Stars take up his vision.

His mind can neither comprehend or begin to comprehend what he is seeing, but instead of confusion or collapsing inward on himself, he feels.

At home.

A warmth begins in his chest welling up into his throat and then behind his eyes.

The relief of returning home after a long journey,

Of seeing loved ones again.

Of returning to ones childhood stomping grounds and lifting their head to the wind as memories come rushing back on the breeze.

He takes a deep breath, though there should be no air to breathe.

The vacuum of space has no hold on him.

He is immune.

Powerful.

He is carried across the universe pulled towards it’s edge watching as stars fly past on either side.

A pinprick of light, just like the others, and then it expands filling his vision.

His eyes widen as brightness envelops him, and he can sense something just beyond the veil of light.

He feels as if he could reach forward and cast the veil aside like a gossamer curtain.

And then.

Nothing.

The light stops, and he is no longer moving. The curtain seems to wave before him, and he can sense shapes beyond, or at least he swears he can.

He reaches out desperately.

But is pulled backwards.

His heart shatters.

Like a glass sculpture thrown to the ground with violent intensity The pain of it is immense and incomprehensible, and he doesn't understand why, which only makes the sensation all the worse, all the more confusing.

He is a child, lost and alone, left outside cold and alone.

Unprotected.

He is lost in a well of agony.

Until a soft voice.

You Are Not Ready

The voice is, gentle, filled with concern, as if consoling a child.

It is not unkind, quite the opposite, and it acts upon him like the soft caress of a mother or father. Though he has no body, it almost feels as if he is enveloped, wrapped in protective arms, or a thick blanket during cold winter as the snow falls from above.

The veil fades back into darkness.

His body hurts for what he is leaving behind, but the arms lead him gently away, and where they touch he feels heat and light just as he did when approaching the barrier.

He can no longer understand what he is seeing.

Tears leak from his eyes, spilling outwards as points of white light to drip down and join the stars.

Then he stops moving.

Hands, gentle, and consoling cast him backwards to float out into space.

As soon as the fingertips are gone, the light vanishes with it.

He wants to stay.

He desperately wants to.

But the voice comes again.

You Are Not Ready.

And then blackness. The voice echoing in repeated circles around inside his head.

He hits the ground hard, and is knocked breathless for the second time. Eternity collapses in on itself back to a pinpoint focus so tight it seems claustrophobic and crushing.

He gasps for air feeling as if he is dying for a moment, though his body soon regains control over his own senses. The limited pinpoint of consciousness and sensation being his own, very limited body.

He is lying face down on cold metal, and the sensation of what he has lost wells up even more. He curls into a ball, his hands around his chest, knees brought up. Tears roll down his face and drip onto the screen of the helmet.

He sobs quietly, unable to control the overwhelming feeling that something profound and irreversible has been taken from him, though he doesn't know what.

Through his tears, and through the face screen he can see the swirling mist of red. The structure is gone and so is the monolith.

The ground rumbles below him though it is a distant thing, only a rattle.

He lays there for a long time as his consciousness slowly squeezes itself back inside his skull feeling confined and cramped in a sensation he would never be able to explain in words or in writing.

More vibrations though these ones are uneven.

“We found him!”

“Omen respond, we have found the admiral.”

“That doesn't make sense! How did he get here.”

“What do you mean.”

“This is nearly thirty miles from his last broadcasted position.”

The voices help him stitch his mind back into place.

A hand on his shoulder, barely noticeable through his space suit.

“Admiral, admiral can you hear me…..” he has forgotten where his mouth is, “Adam!” More mumbling voices, “His vitals are clear, heart rate is elevated, reparation elevated.”

“Picking up some abnormal cerebral activity curving towards normal.”

That’s Krill’s voice.

He remembers now.

“Adam.”

Ramirez?

Arms grab him around the chest and force him into a sitting position. His head lolls to the side.

A hand catches him and holds his head up. He leans heavily against Ramirez as he tries to remember how to move.

“Adam, can you hear me.”

A light passes through his mask and onto his face.

He cringes away from the light. It hurts much more than the other light he remembers.

“Come on, buddy, talk to me.” Ramirez pats the side of his helmet.

He blinks hard and takes a deep breath.

“Ramirez?”

“I’m here, I’m right here.”

His tongue feels like lead and the insides of his mouth are coated in sandpaper. He coughs.

“Adam, what happened.”

His vision spins, “I…. I don’t remember I…. I was…. Inside, and then…”

“The monoliths collapsed, they just fell out of the sky and…. We thought you were dead.”

“But I…. I was inside and then…. And then I was everywhere.”

The marines looked at each other in some confusion.”

“Your GPS cut out almost ten hours ago and shortly after that the monoliths began falling from the sky and collapsing in on the structures. It was chaos, destroyed everything. And then an hour ago your GPS coordinates appeared here…. Did you walk?”

He looked up confused, “No…. I… I don’t know how I got here.”

“Someone get him up and into the shuttle. He probably hit his head in the collapse.”

“Good idea.”

Two marines moved forward and helped to drag him to his feet.

His legs didn’t work, so they had to drag him to one of the ground shuttles and then back over the open planes of the planet before they were able to find an atmospheric opening that would allow a less experienced pilot to fly out.

His head continued to spin.

He stared down at the planet and it’s red haze as he was carried away.

In the back of his head a soft whisper.

You Are Not Ready

207 notes · View notes

miraculous-mare · 4 years

Text

Brooklyn Brawl

Hi guys, long time no see! This fic is based on a request I got in January that I’ve been chipping away at for past month or so, which said: how about a dickinette salt fic? the class gets attacked while in Gotham and Marinette who is already dating dick helps fight back in civilian clothes and they end up flirting in front of the entire class and maybe Lila gets exposed because she told people she was dating Robin? Alya and Adrien salt

I changed up some key details, and it’s not so much a salt fic as it is a slightly salty fic. I also based Dick off of Young Justice!Robin from season one since I was rewatching that show when I started writing. I imagine this taking place in an AU where Guardian!Marinette and Bee!Chloe are part of the Team, but use different Miraculi when they fight with them in order to maintain the whole ‘covert ops team’ thing. Marinette uses the cat and Chloe combines the ladybug with the dragon. If you’re asking where Adrien is, I truly have no clue, but I quite like this AU so I might expand on that later. Happy Maribat March, and enjoy! Tagging @mochegato because your comments always push me to write, and I want to say thank you.

Word Count: 3.7k slightly underedited words

Ever since Marinette walked out of the first year assembly that marked the start of her time in Lycée, she’d been dreaming about her class senior trip. After términale was officially over and she’d sat all her exams, Marinette, along with Mme. Bustier’s class, would be flying to New York City for an entire week. At the time, Marinette couldn’t wait to go shopping with Alya and the girls, to watch Kim and Alix race across the Brooklyn Bridge and maybe even to hold hands with Adrien as they explored Times Square. When Lila joined their class and Marinette’s friendships all shattered around her, she began dreaming of a different week, one she would mainly spend on a bench in Central Park, lost in her sketchbook. Then things changed again, and Marinette became much more acquainted with the US than she ever expected to be at seventeen, mainly due to her… extracurricular activities. As she got off the plane, she hoped she could spend her days keeping her head down, giggling quietly with Chloe as they wandered behind the rest of their class (who were all too preoccupied with Lila’s tall tales to pay any attention to them). If she were lucky (which, regardless of her powers, she new she rarely was), maybe Bast and Lightning Bug would even be able to sneak away for a rooftop run one night, perhaps along with some of their American… acquaintances.

But, as usual, things didn’t go in Marinette’s favor at all. Rather, Chloe came down with a terrible stomach flu the first night of the trip, and couldn’t join the class on their trip to Brooklyn Bridge. Instead of joking around with her best friend, Marinette was forced to dawdle behind her classmates as they posed for pictures together and clamored to hear of Lila’s latest adventures. Today, she appeared to be recounting the forbidden friendship-turned-love affair between her and Robin, one of the world’s most well-known heroes.

“We met when I was fourteen, before we moved to Paris. My mom was stationed in Gotham.” Yeah, it’s not like all US embassies are in Washington DC, Marinette thought. “He landed on my balcony and it was love at first sight.” You mean back when he was dating Zatanna? Right… “Of course he told me his identity straight away, and taught me how to fight” Marinette actually let out a scoff at that one— Like Bruce would ever let that slide. “But I’m supposed to keep it a secret. I only told you guys all this because I trust you so much!”

As if on cue, her cronies began to fawn over her the minute she stopped talking, Alya taking it upon herself to scream particularly loudly. Marinette regretted leaving Tikki at home to tend to Chloe, because she really needed a moral compass right now. Instead, all she had was Trixx snarling in her backpack, almost begging Mari to call Lila out. But Marinette Dupain Cheng would not succumb to the whims of a tiny mischievous goddess today, thank you very much. Not when her day had already gone so horribly and pushing Lila would do nothing but worsen it. Not when she had a rooftop date planned for the evening that she would not, under any circumstances, risk compromising. “Staying out of things won’t make anything better,” she muttered to Trixx, “But it might stop them from getting wo—“

Marinette hadn’t finished her sentence when she felt a familiar shiver run the length of her spine. “oh mon dieu…”

Looking up, she watched Killer Frost land on the archway on the far side of the bridge. The woman was staring off into the distance, too preoccupied with what she saw to pay mind to the tourists. Usually, Ladybug would take that as a sign of greater trouble, but Marinette saw it as an opportunity to get civilians to safety. She immediately turned to the nearest person, pulling them aside to explain the issue before instructing him to get as many people off the bridge and to safety as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. As he walked off, she moved to the next person, speaking quietly and moving slowly. The last thing anyone needed was for Frosty to be alerted to her actio— “AHHH! IT’S KILLER FROST!”

Of fucking course Alya had to notice. You’d think after a lifetime of being chased by Akuma, the girl would know not to draw the big bad’s attention. But common sense was not her strong suit, and now Bustier’s class was standing on an otherwise deserted, easily collapsible, bridge, Killer Frost smirking down at them.

“What are you all waiting for?” Mari yelled at her classmates. A couple of them swung around to look at her, but most of them continued to stare. Summoning the authoritative tone she usually preserved for her masked outings, she tried again. “Run!”

That seemed to do the trick. One by one, her classmates came out of their stupor and began following her across the bridge, Mme Bustier close behind. Marinette heard the crackling of ice forming and a soft swish of something sliding across it, but continued to lead her classmates in the other direction. The group was almost halfway back to land, approaching the second archway, when Marinette stopped in her tracks, feeling the ground shake beneath her. Looking up, she saw Mr. Freeze at the end of the bridge, boots clanking with every step towards them. She doesn’t have to look back to know Killer Frost has them trapped from behind.

Marinette looks around, her limited options racing through her mind. Jumping overboard would take too long and was too dangerous. Transforming, even with Trixx, would doubtless reveal her identity. She could alert the team, but Freeze was now staring her down as he levied his freeze ray at her, so she’d have to act fast.

Swinging her arm, Marinette let her bag fall to her side as she ducked. She ripped the zipper open and shoved her hand inside, smashing her thumb against the button as quickly as she could. As she did, she braced herself, certain that Freeze had already fired at her and waiting to be engulfed in ice. But the overwhelming rush of cold never came. Instead, Marinette felt a body land in front of her and heard the hushed gasps and cheers of her classmates. When she opened her eyes, they met Aqualad’s, suddenly stood in front of her and using his water bearers to block Freeze’s attacks.

The minute their eyes met, she felt a soft touch in her mind and memories flooded her senses. She saw Kaldur announce a lead on Killer Frost the ex-sidekicks would have to handle (lest the remainder of the Team get exposed in such a public fight), heard M’gann volunteer to come along as backup in the Bioship. She watched Wally split off to investigate a disturbance while Kaldur took to the river and Dick to the rooftops, hoping to corner the escapee before she started anything they couldn’t stop.

Mari! She heard Miss Martian cry the minute her telepathic bond was fully established, and knew that if she looked up she’d be able to make out the faint outline of the concealed Bioship fluttering above them. You okay?

Now that Kaldur was pushing Mr. Freeze back, she could take a second to regain her bearings. She found her class cowering in the middle of the bridge behind her, heads swiveling around in an attempt the keep track of the fight. Overhead, she found Robin had forced Killer Frost onto the archway again. He kept trying to knock her over with his Birdarangs, swinging from the bridge cables as he went, but she’d dodge them by jumping onto makeshift ice platforms. Whenever he stopped, she’d send flurries of snow at his head. So far, he’d been able to flip and jump out of her way, but Marinette wasn’t sure if he’d be able to last.

Hey! I heard that. Came his voice in her head.

Sorry baby bird. There’s only so many cables, you know?

Marinette could feel his glare on the mind link. Kaldur, she thought, what can I do to help?

Clear the civilians, he grunted, don’t do anything to expose yourself. She watched him block another attack before jumping into action.

“Hey, everyone,” she yelled, waving her hands above her head to gain the class’s attention. “The bridge archway collapse any minute. We need to take cover.” At her words, a majority of the students dispersed, crawling toward the sides of the bridge where they could easily jump into the river if need be. At least Akuma attacks made them sensible. Only Alya remained standing, her phone out as she frantically recorded the fight around her. Mari registered Kaldur mentally cursing at the reporter, then saw Freeze’s attention shift to her through his eyes. Reflexes kicking in, Marinette lunged at Alya, managing to throw them both behind a pillar. Half a second later, a ray of cryogenic liquid shot through the air where Alya had been standing, and Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief. Alya wasn’t as thrilled.

“Bitch! I was filming!” She screeched, frantically checking her phone. She was clutching Marinette’s wrist, nails digging into the other girl’s flesh. “You could have ruined my footage!” Marinette was about to bite back, but Dick’s sparking anger in the back of her head drew her back to the reality.

“Just film from here,” she muttered. “So you’re not in danger. Besides,” she continued when she noticed Lila crouching a few feet away, “you need to be able to protect your bestie.” That seemed to placate Alya, and she released her grip on Marinette to scoot closer to her friend. Now free to get back on the field, the superhero turned her attention back to Robin, who was still evading Frost’s hits. That is, until Marinette noticed the villain’s aim shift, and she realized what was about to happen a split second before it did. She mentally called out to him, but it was too late: Robin was halfway across the bridge, aiming for a cable, when Killer Frost fired at the edge of the archway on which she stood, where the bridge cables connected. They froze through entirely, and Marinette could hear them reverberate for half a second before they all snapped. Robin, who’d been swinging across the bridge ready to snatch a cable, now came barreling towards the ground.

As Marinette watched him fall, time seemed to slow down around her. Stretching her leg out, she slid across the half-frozen concrete, arms extended to catch him as he neared the ground. When he landed in her grip, she pulled him back under the archway, out of Frost’s range.

“Wow, I didn’t know such pretty birds fell from the sky!” Her voice, laced with humor, was enough to snap him out of his reverie. She knew Dick didn’t mind heights, but no one liked falling, and she didn’t want him getting to caught up in it.

“what are you, my guardian angel?” He said wryly, but she didn’t miss the appreciative tone in his voice.

Marinette scoffed. “Aren’t angels the ones that fall from heaven?” She flashed him a smile, and her toothy grin reminded him more of Bast’s snarl than of Marinette’s quick humor. He almost forgot they were in the middle of battle until Kaldur’s voice rang in their heads.

I didn’t think I’d have to say this, but you can’t flirt with him in front of everyone! Marinette rolled her eyes, but her attention flitted back to the fighting around her. Aqualad was pushing Freeze back, but was struggling now that Killer Frost, thinking Robin was down, had begun firing at him from above.

I just wish I could help.

Hold on, Dick thought back, eyes zeroing in on Alya’s camera. The reporter had trained it on the two, and he knew this interaction would be online. Maybe we can give the people a show…

She catches his train of thought easily, though she wont deny the mind link played a role. It’s no sooner she’s agreed than he’s swinging away, angling himself so the camera has a good view of their exchange.

“Thanks for the assist,” he grumbled at her, tone suddenly serious. “But you know I always land on my feet.”

“I thought only cats could do that,” she challenged, “and they eat little birds like you, remember?”

“you talk a big game. Can you fight to match?” He made sure to keep a playful lilt in his voice, if only for the onlookers, and saw Marinette tense convincingly at his words.

“Of course I can. I just need the right weapon.” She held her hand out expectantly, and Robin, feigning shock, made a show of pulling his cape away, giving her access to his utility belt. Smirking at him, she grabbed the extendable bo staff, turning around to face the fight. “see if you can keep up, baby bird.” And just like that, she dashed away. Not bothering to hide the smile on his face, Robin followed.

As it happened, they’d made it just in time to join the fight. Aqualad, distracted by Killer Frost, had lost track of Freeze, who was now aiming his cold gun at the hero’s back. Robin’s Birdarang managed to knock the weapon out of his hand just in time. From there, the fight ended quickly.

“Hey birdie!” Marinette called, running towards him, “Make me fly.” In his head, she whispered maneuver seven, And he immediately got ready to lift her into the air.

As she launched herself towards Mr. Freeze, she pointed her staff straight down. As she landed, she rammed it straight through his helmet, pushing down until the glass cracked beneath her weight. Marinette pulled away, watching the villain pant for a moment before she realized he couldn’t simply freeze himself like he usually would in these situations. Robin was already on it, grabbing the freeze ray from where it landed and shooting it at the man’s head, saving his life and effectively putting him out of the fight.

Meanwhile, Aqualad had managed to take down Killer Frost, wrapping her in jets of water and sending a surge of electricity through them. The shock was enough to knock her unconscious, and he was in the process of dragging her towards the others. He made a show of looking Marinette over, appearing shocked at the bo staff in her hands.

“I see Robin made a friend,” he commented wryly. Marinette knew she would get a stern talking-to for pulling this stunt, but she figured her classmates were too dumb to make anything of it, and any incriminating evidence posted on the LadyBlog could easily be corrupted by WayneTech.

“I like to help when I can,” she shot back, just as much sarcasm in her voice. “Though, I have to wonder, don’t these two usually have an accomplice?”

Before anyone could answer, a yellow blur shot past them, and Kid Flash appeared, holding a tied up Captain Cold for them to see. “Indeed they do. Caught this one trying to break into the Star Labs Facility in the City. The others were probably just a distraction.”

Marinette’s classmates had started to trickle out of hiding once the fight ended. With the arrival of the new hero, they began to cheer, circling the group. Alya pushed past them all, shoving her camera in front of her. Lila, looking more nervous than usual, followed closely behind her.

“oh mon dieu!” Alya screeched. “You’re all amazing fighters. You did such a good job, even with Marinette in the way.” As she finished speaking, she gave her old friend a disgusted look, and Marinette had to wonder if she truly believed what she was saying or if she was just playing it up for attention. “I’m sorry about her, she doesn’t know how to step out of the limelight.”

“It’s alright,” Robin said, tone harsh.

Calm down, Marinette thought, It’s not worth it.

He made sure the camera caught his next words. “Marinette actually helped us a lot.” He swung an arm over her shoulder, smirk flashing across his face for all to see. “Besides, it’s not every day you get to fight alongside a gorgeous girl.”

Said ‘gorgeous girl’ blushed a deep shade of red in spite of herself, biting back the urge to kiss him then and there.

Alya, on the other hand, did not seem to know when to stop. “What? How can you say that about her? Especially in front of your girlfriend!” With that declaration, the class began muttering amongst themselves. Lila tried ducking behind Alya, but the attention was already on her.

“What are you doing?” Lila hissed. “I told you that was a secret!”

Alya’s eyes narrowed, and she fixed Robin with a determined stare. “Just because he—“ she spat out the word “— doesn’t want people to know about your relationship doesn’t mean he can flirt with other girls in front of you. Or at all, actually. Come on girl, don’t let him treat you like that!”

Robin’s face looked more and more shocked the more she spoke, but before he could respond a peel of laughter broke the air. Kid Flash was doubled over beside him, looking at Alya like she was a comedian.

“H-her?” He pointed at Lila, still shaking from his laughing fit. “His girlfriend? No way!” Lila stood quietly, eyes downcast, though she had the gall to look insulted at that remark. “No offence, kid, but I’ve seen Robin’s girlfriends, and you’re not really his type. He prefers black-haired, blue-eyed girls, you know? Preferably those who can kick his ass and have some magic powers.” He turned to Marinette, a devious smile on his face.

If you say anything I don’t appreciate, she whispered across the mind link, I will kill you. And I won’t even bother to make it look like an accident.

His eyes widened at her thoughts, but in true Wally West fashion he disregarded all warning and pushed forward. “Kind of like you. You really helped take down Freeze over there?” She nodded harshly, and his grin only widened. “Figures he’s all over you. Robin’s like that with powerful women. If you ever want his number, let me know.” Hearing Wally’s laughter echoing across the mind link did not, surprisingly enough, weaken her resolve to commit murder.

Perhaps sensing her bubbling anger, Kaldur took the opportunity to step in. “Now that we’ve established that Robin is indeed single, it’s time for us to leave.” His voice, commanding as it always was in battle, captured everyone’s attention. Even the class, though utterly confused at the heroes’ declarations, remained quiet. “The police will arrive soon to take your statements. If anyone is hurt, they’ll be able to direct you to medical help. We apologize for this disturbance, and hope the rest of your trip is less eventful. With that, the superheroes all hefted an ice villain across their shoulders and made to leave. Marinette, realizing she still clutched the bo staff, held it out to Robin.

“nah, keep it,” he told her, “consider it a thank you.” With a final wink, he disappeared after his teammates.

Uh, bye Mari, M’gann’s voice echoed in her head. And, good luck with this mess. I can sense a lot of anger here. Call me if you need anything okay?

Thanks, Mari thought back, just before the alien’s touch slipped away and she heard the faint woosh of the bioship flying out of range. When she focused back on the class she found them dead silent, staring at Lila. Marinette noted duly that Alya was still filming

“What?” Lila yelled, trying to keep the panic from her voice. “He had to do that. What would we do if my identity got out, huh?”

Marinette could, and likely should, let these lies slide like she usually would. She should try not to let it get to her, and focus on the evening ahead with her American (and extraterrestrial) friends. But the rush of battle was still flowing through her, and Trixx was very strongly urging her to react, and, really, Marinette Dupain-Cheng did not have half the self control she claimed to possess. So of course, she just had to respond: “Hide your identity from who? The class full of people who obviously already knew about it, given that one of them brought it up first, or his superhero friends who he would have definitely told already, especially if you’ve been dating him in and out of the mask for four years now? Sounds a little odd to me, and I’m still confused about why he would need to flirt with another girl just to hide your relationship. Though I’m sure you have an incredibly logical explanation for all of this, right Lila? Hey, maybe Alya can post it on her blog and people can debate on just how much bullshit you’re spewing” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and as she finished speaking she quickly turned on her heel, swinging her newly-acquired bo staff over her shoulder and walking off the bridge toward the approaching convoy of NYPD cars.

Behind her, she could hear her classmates’ angry voices beginning to rise, drowning out Lila’s sputtering excuses. Marinette was no fool, of course— she knew most of them would be back in the liar’s web by tonight. But that didn’t make calling her out any less fun, and now that her days with this class were extremely limited, she figured these small pleasures were worth the backlash. Besides, maybe the encounter would teach Lila to keep her mouth shut for the next few days—and if Marinette was going to think of a way to catch one of the fastest men alive by tonight, she needed the quiet.

Please let me know what you think! this is my first full piece I’m publishing for this fandom and I would love some feedback. I’m trying to write and post Maribat March prompts every weekend, so look out for that as well. PS. If you have a link to the discord or the list of prompts, I would greatly appreciate either. Thanks for reading!

#maribat #Dickinette #ml salt fic #kind of but not really #mlb x dc #Imbri's writing

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