demonbitterbite

[demonbitterbite]

A Little Secret

Gekko x female reader

Gekko was late. Again. Harbor pinched the bridge of his nose as he checked the time - fifteen minutes past when training was supposed to start. Beside him, Reyna tapped her foot impatiently against the floor of the practice range, her violet eyes practically glowing with irritation. "This is the third time this week," she muttered. "Something's up with that kid. Mateo's never been like this before." Harbor had noticed it too. Ever since they'd recruited the young initiator, he'd been one of their most dedicated agents.

Usually, he'd be the first to arrive for training, Wingman bouncing excitedly at his heels while he practiced trick shots with Dizzy. But lately? His performance had been slipping, his usually sharp initiations becoming sloppy and mistimed. Not to mention the constant yawning during briefings and the dreamy looks during strategy sessions. "Perhaps we should-" Harbor began, but was cut off by the sound of running footsteps. Mateo burst through the door, his green hair even more disheveled than usual, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. "Sorry, sorry! I got caught up with... uh... something." Reyna crossed her arms. "Something? Or someone?" The way his face flushed told them everything they needed to know. Even Wingman, who had materialized beside him, seemed to droop slightly as if embarrassed by his friend's obvious lie.

During training, things only got worse. Mateo's focus was completely off - he walked straight into one of Cypher's trip wires (twice), and at one point, Dizzy ended up stunning their own team instead of the practice bots. When his mosh pit completely missed its target and ended up trapping Sova in a corner, Harbor called an early end to the session. "Whatever's going on with you, fix it," Reyna said firmly as Mateo gathered his things. "We can't afford distractions in the field." "I know, I know," he mumbled, fidgeting with Wingman's pendant. "I'll do better tomorrow." But tomorrow came, and the next day, and the next - and nothing improved.

If anything, Mateo seemed even more distracted. They'd catch him texting during breaks, grinning at his phone like a lovesick teenager. Which, Harbor supposed, he kind of was. Finally, after a particularly disastrous training session where Mateo managed to get himself "killed" within the first thirty seconds of their simulation, Harbor and Reyna decided enough was enough. The next morning, they decided to follow him. To their surprise, Mateo left his quarters early - surprisingly early for someone who'd been chronically late. They tracked him through the facility, watching as he practically skipped down the corridors, Wingman walking beside him with unusual stealth.

He led them to a quiet corner of the facility's garden, hidden behind the cherry blossom trees that Sage had planted last spring. The early morning light filtered through the pink petals, creating dancing shadows on the ground. And there he was... with you. "Mateo!" you laughed as he pulled you close, your fingers automatically finding their way into his green hair. "We're going to get caught one of these days." "Let them catch us then," he murmured, pressing you against one of the trees. "I don't care anymore." Your response was lost as he kissed you, soft and sweet at first, then with increasing intensity. Wingman sat nearby, attempting to act as a lookout (though clearly not a very good one, given that Harbor and Reyna had managed to find you). The little creature seemed to be trying to look anywhere but at the two of you, occasionally covering its eyes with its tiny hands.

"Ahem." Mateo jumped back so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet, only managing to stay upright because you caught his arm. "Reyna!" he squeaked, face turning as red as a Phoenix flare. "I... uh... this isn't..." "So this is why our initiator has been failing to actually initiate," Reyna said, trying and failing to hide her amused smirk. "I must say, Mateo, I expected better stealth from you."

You stepped forward, face flushed but chin held high. "I'm sorry. It's my fault he's been late. I work in the tech division, and our schedules rarely align, so we've been meeting before his training. We didn't mean for it to affect his performance..." Harbor's stern expression softened. Young love - he remembered those days. The sneaking around, the stolen moments, the feeling that nothing else in the world mattered. "Next time," he said, fighting back a smile, "just tell us. We can adjust the training schedule. No need for all this sneaking around." "Really?" Mateo's face lit up, his eyes bright with hope. "Really," Reyna confirmed. "But if you stun our team one more time because you're daydreaming about your sweetheart, I'm telling Brimstone. And we both know how he feels about protocol breaches." Mateo gulped and nodded vigorously, while you tried to stifle a laugh. Wingman, sensing the tension had broken, chirped happily.

"Thank you," you said softly. "Both of you. We'll be more responsible, I promise." As Harbor and Reyna walked away, leaving the young lovebirds to their privacy, Reyna chuckled. "Young love... it makes fools of us all." Harbor smiled, remembering his own youthful days. "Indeed it does, indeed it does." Behind them, they could hear Mateo's distinctive laugh mixing with yours, accompanied by Wingman's cheerful chirping. The sound echoed through the garden, a reminder that even in their line of work, there was still room for joy. For love. And maybe, Harbor thought, that wasn't such a bad thing after all.

[demonbitterbite]

To Love Like A Human Chapter 5 Fated encounter

…Previously…. …Next…

A playlist for to love like a human

The morning light filtered into Éris’s modest home, casting soft rays on the neatly organized jars, dried herbs, and handwritten notes scattered across her workspace. She moved with practiced efficiency, her hands deftly sorting the vials of liquid and carefully counting out the various pills she needed for the day.

Her body ached more than usual—her patchwork frame always had its quirks, but today, the dull pain in her shoulders and back was sharper, as if the seams of her being were pulling too tightly. She winced as she lowered herself onto a stool, setting the small tray of pills in front of her.

“All right,” she murmured, mostly to herself but aware that the souls could hear her. “Let’s make sure I don’t poison myself.”

She picked up a vial first, uncorking it. “Nerve suppressor for the pain. Three drops. Any more, and I’m out cold for the day.”

“Careful with that one,” Dain, the Soul of Fear, whispered in her mind. His voice was quiet but edged with concern. “You don’t want to risk overshooting the dose.”

“I know,” Éris replied softly, tipping the vial carefully and letting three precise drops fall into her tea.

Next, she grabbed a small green bottle. “Heart stabilizer. Keeps things from… well, stopping.”

“Always reassuring to hear,” Haran, the Soul of Strength, grumbled. “I don’t like that you need this much to keep going, Éris.”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” she said with a faint smile, though her voice carried the weight of weariness.

The routine continued: pills to steady her breathing, a tincture for her patchwork body’s failing metabolism, and a mild sedative to prevent muscle spasms. Each one was accounted for, the souls quietly watching.

“Why do you keep pushing yourself so hard?” Althea, the Soul of Compassion, asked gently. “This much medication can’t be good for you.”

Éris exhaled as she swallowed the last pill, washing it down with the bitter tea. “Because if I stop, everything falls apart. And besides…” She gestured vaguely at her body. “This isn’t exactly a self-sustaining system.”

The souls murmured among themselves, their collective presence both comforting and overwhelming.

As Éris cleared her table, she paused, noticing the faint glow from the corner of the room. She turned to see Liora, the Soul of Justice, still in her greatsword form.

“What are you still doing here?” Éris asked, crossing the room to inspect the blade. “You don’t usually stay manifested this long.”

Liora’s voice, steady and firm, filled her mind. I feel uneasy. Something about today feels… wrong.

Éris rested a hand on the hilt, frowning. “You think something’s going to happen?”

I can’t be certain, Liora admitted. But if you need me, I’ll come. Call, and I’ll be there.

“Noted.” Éris allowed herself a small smile. “You’re a worrier, you know that?”

Someone has to be, Liora said wryly, her glow dimming as she reverted to her dormant state.

Éris had just stepped outside, basket in hand, when she spotted Thor striding down the street. His broad frame and golden hair made him impossible to miss, even in the modest crowds of the marketplace. He seemed distracted, his brow furrowed in thought, but when he saw her, his expression brightened.

“Éris!” he called, jogging to catch up with her.

She tilted her head, surprised. “Thor. What brings you here?”

“I am searching for aid,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “Though it seems my efforts are in vain.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What kind of aid?”

Thor sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It is for my brother. Part of his punishment requires him to volunteer his time in service to the community. However, no one is willing to take him on.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Éris muttered under her breath.

Thor caught her tone and chuckled. “I know Loki is… difficult. But he must fulfill this task, or there will be consequences. Do you know of anyone who might take him?”

Éris hesitated, her eyes flicking to her basket. Her schedule was already full, and the thought of working with Loki didn’t exactly thrill her. But Thor’s earnest expression and the weight of his request tugged at her resolve.

“I might be able to help,” she said reluctantly.

Thor’s eyes widened. “You would? Truly?”

“I run a small business from home,” she explained. “Herbal remedies, small crafts. If Loki is willing to follow my rules, I’ll take him on.”

“You are a rare soul,” Thor said, relief washing over his face. “Thank you, Éris. I will send him to you at once.”

She nodded, though a part of her already regretted the decision.

Loki appeared at Éris’s door the following morning, his expression a mixture of amusement and disdain.

“So, you’re the only one in this wretched city willing to endure my company?” he drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Éris replied, stepping aside to let him in. “This is more for Thor’s sake than yours.”

“Of course it is,” Loki said with a smirk, stepping into the modest space. His sharp green eyes scanned the room, taking in the shelves of herbs and the scattered tools of her trade.

Éris handed him a stack of parchment. “Start by organizing these. They’re inventory lists and delivery schedules. And try not to make a mess.”

Loki raised an eyebrow but took the papers without complaint. “As you wish, oh great healer.”

While Éris worked at her table, focused on grinding herbs into powder, Loki’s curiosity began to get the better of him. His eyes roamed the room, noting the intricate diagrams pinned to the walls and the neatly labeled jars on the shelves.

As Éris stepped away to fetch water for tea, Loki’s attention was drawn to a partially concealed notebook on a nearby table. Unable to resist, he slipped it free and began to leaf through the pages.

The entries were written in Éris’s precise handwriting, each one detailing a name, a personality, and a transformation.

“Liora Eydis. Soul of Justice. Manifestation: A greatsword that glows in the presence of lies or injustice.”

Loki’s brows furrowed as he read on, his mind racing. The more he uncovered, the more unsettling it became.

“What is this?” he murmured, his fingers tightening on the book.

When Éris returned, her gaze immediately fell on the notebook in his hands.

“Put that down,” she said, her voice cold and sharp.

Loki looked up, his expression unreadable. “Care to explain why you’re cataloging souls like ingredients in a recipe?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Oh, I think it is,” Loki said, taking a step closer. “This… This is more than herbal remedies. What are you really hiding?”

The air between them grew taut, the tension almost palpable. Éris clenched her fists, her mind racing as the souls stirred, their voices overlapping in her thoughts.

“Summon me,” Liora urged, her voice steady and commanding.

“Not yet,” Éris whispered under her breath.

Loki’s smirk returned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re not just a healer, are you?”

Without waiting for an answer, he flipped to another page, his eyes scanning the text. “A whip of fire? A dagger that reveals deceit? How fascinating.”

“Last warning,” Éris said, her voice low and dangerous.

But Loki didn’t stop, his sharp mind piecing together the fragments of her secret. Whatever he was about to say next, the confrontation was inevitable.

[demonbitterbite]

To Love Like A Human Chapter 2

Fateful Encounter

...Previously... ...Next...

A playlist for to love like a human

The Avengers tower gleamed in the midday sun, its modern lines and towering presence a sharp contrast to the ancient figure of Loki lounging on one of common room couches. His long legs were sprawled out, his black suit immaculate, and his smirk ever present. Across from him stood Thor, his broad arms crossed, looking every bit the exasperated older brother.

"You will do this, Loki." Thor insisted, his booming voice echoing in the room. "It's better than rotting in a cell."

"I prefer the cell," Loki drawled, picking at a nonexistent speck of dust on his sleeve.

Thor sighed heavily. "We've been over this. You must give back to Midgard, show them you are capable of more than destruction."

"Ah, so I'm to play servant mow? Fetch their books? Mend their shoes?" Loki raised a an eyebrow, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “What grand punishment shall you bestow next? Milking cows?”

Thor’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, he reached down, grabbed Loki by the collar, and yanked him to his feet with little effort. Loki sputtered, his dignity bruised more than anything else.

“Enough of your whining,” Thor growled, practically dragging him toward the door. “You’ll come with me now, or I’ll carry you like a sack of grain.”

“Unhand me, you oaf!” Loki protested, wriggling in Thor’s iron grip.

Thor ignored him, his expression calm but firm, as though dealing with a particularly troublesome child.

Eris strolled down the sidewalk, her mismatched eyes darting from shop to shop. Her scarf was wrapped snugly around her neck, the cold winter air biting at her skin. She carried a small paper bag filled with books and tea supplies, her boots crunching against the thin layer of snow that dusted the ground.

The voices of her souls murmured softly in her mind, though none pressed for attention.

“You’re weaker than you should be,” Liora, the Soul of Justice, finally said, her tone matter-of-fact.

“I know,” Eris muttered under her breath.

“The time is coming, Eris,” Haran, the Soul of Strength, added, his deep voice tinged with concern. You’ll need to take another soul soon, or your body won’t hold up.

“I said I know,” Eris snapped quietly, earning a curious glance from a passing couple. She forced a smile and kept walking.

She hated this part. The idea of consuming another soul, even willingly, never sat well with her. It wasn’t murder—not exactly. Every soul she’d consumed so far had agreed to the contract, their essence living on within her. But it still felt… wrong.

As she rounded the corner, her attention was caught by the sound of a commotion.

Thor was halfway down the street, still hauling Loki by the collar, when the latter finally managed to plant his feet and twist out of his brother’s grip.

“Must you always resort to brute force?” Loki snapped, straightening his suit and smoothing his hair.

Thor chuckled. “It’s the only language you seem to understand, brother.”

“I am not a child to be dragged around,” Loki hissed, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Unbeknownst to them, Eris had stopped a few paces away, watching the exchange with mild amusement. The sight of the tall, imposing god of mischief being manhandled by his older brother was too good to pass up. A quiet laugh escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

Loki’s sharp ears caught the sound immediately. His head snapped toward her, green eyes narrowing. “And who are you to find this so amusing?”

Eris froze, caught off guard. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“She’s right, though,” Thor said, grinning. “It is amusing.”

Eris relaxed slightly, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

Thor stepped forward, his friendly demeanor instantly putting her at ease. “I’m Thor, son of Odin. And this—” he gestured to Loki—“is my brother.”

“Loki,” Eris finished, her smile fading. Her gaze flicked to Loki, and she felt a strange, unplaceable tension.

“And you are?” Thor prompted.

“Eris,” she replied, adjusting her scarf.

Loki tilted his head, his keen eyes scanning her. “You’re an odd one, aren’t you?”

Eris stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“Your appearance,” Loki clarified, gesturing vaguely at her hair and the faint stitching along her cheeks. “Unusual. Though I suppose that’s the charm, isn’t it?”

Thor groaned. “Loki, stop being rude.”

“It’s fine,” Eris said quickly, though her fingers tightened around the paper bag she held. “I’m used to it.”

As the three of them stood there, the air seemed to shift. Loki, ever perceptive, caught a faint ripple of something unnatural emanating from Eris. It wasn’t magic, not exactly, but it was… off.

“You’re hiding something,” he said suddenly, his tone curious rather than accusatory.

Eris’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?” Loki’s smirk returned, his eyes glinting with intrigue.

Thor frowned, placing a protective hand on Eris’s shoulder. “Leave her be, Loki. Not everyone is a puzzle for you to solve.”

Eris glanced at Thor, grateful for his intervention, but the moment was short-lived. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she stumbled.

Thor caught her easily. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Eris said quickly, though her pallor betrayed her words.

Loki watched her closely, his expression unreadable. He could see the cracks in her facade, the weakness she was trying so hard to hide. “You should sit down,” he said, his voice softer than before.

Eris hesitated but eventually nodded. Thor led her to a nearby bench, and she sank down with a sigh.

As they sat there, the voices of Eris’s souls stirred again.

“You’re running out of time,” Liora said firmly.

“We need to find someone soon,” Marina, the Soul of Hope, added, her tone gentle but insistent.

Eris closed her eyes, willing the voices to quiet. “Not now,” she whispered under her breath.

“Talking to yourself?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just tired,” Eris replied, her mismatched eyes meeting his.

For a moment, neither spoke, but the tension between them was palpable. Loki’s curiosity burned brightly, and Eris could feel his gaze as if it were a physical weight.

Thor broke the silence. “Perhaps we should escort you home, Miss Eris. You don’t look well.”

Eris hesitated but nodded. “That might be a good idea.”

As they walked, Loki stayed a step behind, his mind racing. There was more to Eris than met the eye, and he was determined to uncover her secrets.

The walk to Eris’s townhouse was quiet, save for the occasional chatter from Thor, who seemed oblivious to the awkward tension. Loki, walking slightly behind them, was unusually silent, his sharp gaze dissecting Eris with every glance.

Eris’s townhouse came into view, an unassuming two-story structure tucked between similar homes. The garden was small but well-kept, with clusters of herbs and flowers bordering a neat pathway. She hesitated briefly at the door before turning to the two gods behind her.

“Would you like to come in for tea?” she offered.

Thor’s face lit up instantly. “That would be wonderful! I can never refuse good hospitality.”

Loki raised a skeptical brow. “Tea? How quaint.”

“You don’t have to come in,” Eris replied dryly. “It’s not like I invited you specifically.”

Thor laughed heartily, clapping Loki on the back so hard he stumbled forward. “Come, brother! A bit of tea might do your sour demeanor some good.”

Loki gave a reluctant sigh but followed them inside, his expression one of mild disdain.

Eris’s home was modest and lived-in. Shelves packed with books lined the walls, and the faint aroma of lavender and cinnamon lingered in the air. Thor immediately made himself comfortable in a worn armchair that creaked under his weight.

Eris set her bag down and motioned toward the couch. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll get the tea ready.”

As soon as she disappeared into the kitchen, Loki began wandering. His sharp gaze scanned the room, taking in every detail. His fingers trailed over the spines of books, his eyes narrowing as he noted the handwritten notes in the margins.

Thor frowned at his brother. “Loki, sit down. You’re being rude.”

“Am I?” Loki murmured without looking back. “I’m simply… observing.”

“You’re snooping,” Thor snapped, standing to block Loki from heading toward the hallway.

Eris, meanwhile, was busy in the kitchen. She filled a teapot with water and set it on the stove, her hands working swiftly as she prepared the tea and some simple biscuits. As she worked, the familiar voices of her souls stirred in her mind.

Saelin the soul of betray, began to speak, his voice low and wary. The trickster can’t be trusted. He’s already looking for secrets.

“I know,” Eris whispered under her breath. “Let him look. There’s nothing here for him to find.”

“Still, be careful,” Haran warned. “He’s not like Thor.”

Eris sighed, her focus briefly slipping. “Thanks for the reminder,” she muttered.

The kettle began to whistle, breaking her thoughts. She poured the tea into a pot and carried it on a tray back to the living room.

When she returned, Thor was glaring at Loki, who was halfway to the hallway. “Brother, must you?”

Loki smirked but stepped back into the living room as if nothing had happened. Eris placed the tray on the coffee table and began pouring the tea.

“Thank you,” Thor said, accepting a cup with a broad smile.

Loki took his tea reluctantly, sniffing it with a slight grimace before taking a tentative sip.

“Is it poisoned?” Eris teased, noticing his expression.

“One can never be too cautious,” Loki replied, his smirk returning.

Eris rolled her eyes and sat in the armchair opposite them, taking a sip of her tea. She allowed Thor to lead the conversation, his booming voice filling the room as he spoke of his time among the humans. Loki remained mostly silent, his piercing gaze occasionally flicking to Eris.

After the tea was finished and the gods finally took their leave, Eris took herself to the living room. She knelt in the center of the room, the soft glow of her souls beginning to stir within her.

Orin’s voice came to her first, light and restless. “You’re stalling, Eris. You know what you need to do.”

“I know,” she murmured, reaching out with her thoughts. “You’ve said that already.”

“Then stop delaying. The longer you wait, the weaker you’ll become.”

Eris sighed, closing her eyes as Orin’s form began to materialize—a butterfly with iridescent wings. It fluttered around her briefly before settling on her hand.

“Find a wandering soul,” she said softly. “Bring them back to me.”

“I’ll find one soon,” Orin promised, his voice filled with quiet determination. The butterfly lifted off her hand and disappeared through the wall, leaving a faint shimmer in his wake.

Unbeknownst to her, Loki had lingered outside, hidden in the shadows. He watched with narrowed eyes as the light of the soul faded from view.

“A mutant,” he murmured to himself, though something about the display felt… different. This wasn’t just mutation. There was something else at play, something older and far more dangerous.

Thor called to him from the street, and Loki sent a decoy to follow his brother while he remained behind. This warranted further investigation.

Slipping around to the side of the house, Loki peered through a window. Eris was still sitting on the floor, her face calm but weary. He could see the faint glow of other souls within her, their energy swirling like a constellation.

Loki’s mind raced. He would have to tread carefully. Whatever Eris was, she was no ordinary human.

And she was hiding something far more significant than he had anticipated.

[demonbitterbite]

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