#{ But no. It's Red with his head stuck in some kind of metal object. }

[chronosbled]

{ Forgive the quality and blueish lighting, I'm recording a screen capture from my PS5 with my phone, but Red XIII got his head stuck in... what I think is a light? Or maybe it's something for hanging stuff? I don't really know, but my poor fiery mountain lion is stuck and needs help.

I am over 160 hours in and he's still over here getting his head stuck in random objects at capped level (70) like he has no brain or a single thought within his head. This is why I love him and peep my beloved wife, Tifa. }

[hivemuthur]

Hii! Could I request a Viktor x reader fic where the reader commissions an elevator be built in the academi/wherever his lab is, so viktor doesn't have to climb so many stairs and than getting stuck in the said elevator with viktor. I'm thinking reader with mild claustrophobia, love confession, whatever you see fit? (Smut/fluff, whatever) Thank youu❤️❤️

~🍒

Dear Anon, thank you for a lovely request! ❤️

Five Things

viktorxgn!reader mature! kissing, or rather making out, reader suffers anxiety attack, fluff!

author’s note: If you help me find an artist of this drawing I will be eternally grateful! Artist found, image description updated! Thank you! Can you tell I am obsessed with his neck?

word count: 2,7K

—

“Can you at least tell me if my current state of restriction leads to something beneficial?” Viktor whined, his hand clasped in yours as you blindfolded him and led him through the academy corridors.

“Trust me, it will be very beneficial,” you said matter-of-factly, not noticing the smirk on his face. The flirt dared to chuckle at that, and you shot him a look, a force of habit. “Maybe not as much as you think, whatever clatters around that head of yours.”

“Wouldn’t you want to know, dear friend,” Viktor mused, squeezing your hand tighter, his thumb ghosting over your index finger and sending goosebumps up your arm. Friend, of course—you were friends, and that was fine.

When you finally got there, mindful of all the plant pots, benches, and other objects cluttering the hallways—apparently, people would lose shoes, books, or once-bitten sandwiches—your face was beetroot red from all the teasing and handholding. You thanked the gods that all Viktor could see was the inside of your scarf.

“Are you ready?” you asked after clearing your throat.

“Depends. I trust you endlessly, so if you have led me to something dangerous, I am very much unready. If—” he accentuated, lifting his finger, picturing what kind of expression was painting itself on your face right now, “it’s in fact something very beneficial, I would like to think myself always ready for that.”

“You talk too much, mister,” you let out a strangled chuckle and began undoing the knot at the nape of his neck. Your fingers brushed the skin at his hairline, and Viktor shivered despite himself. A smile bloomed under your nose, as you tried to steady your breathing. “Here we go.”

You were still standing behind him, peeking over his shoulder, but you couldn’t see his expression. When no comment came for a while, you asked hesitantly, “What do you think?”

“You did this?” he mumbled quietly. His hand travelled to his back to find yours and lead you next to him. “How?”

“I didn’t do this exactly,” you said humbly, lowering your eyes to stare at your shoes. “But I might have bullied some people, who bullied other people, who commissioned other people to make it. Do you like it?”

“Do I like it? I… have no words.” The squeeze of his hand strengthened again as he walked up closer to study the ornamentations.

The elevator was not only functional but also beautiful. The outside frame was made of mixed metals, resembling both the design of the academy’s historical rooms and the specific curls and bends of hextech equipment. The inside was carefully crafted from deep, warm varnished wood.

You let out a breath you had been holding for far too long and laughed. “Well, I have to thank Janna for that miracle later,” you teased him.

Viktor’s mouth didn’t move an inch as he turned to face you and pulled you into an unexpected embrace. His cheeks were faintly pink when his arms cradled you, and you could feel the press of his cane’s handle against your shoulder blade. Letting out another breath you’d been holding, you relaxed into it and wrapped your arms around his waist, breathing in the scent of parchment and oil that clung to him.

“Should we… test it?” he offered playfully, his amber eyes sparkling with excitement.

You hesitated, but the way his hand remained clasped around yours melted your resolve. “Alright, but only if you don’t start analysing every bolt and rivet,” you teased, trying to keep your voice steady.

As you stepped into the elevator together, your heart began to beat faster. The space, while beautifully crafted, felt far too confined. The warm varnished wood and intricate metal details seemed to close in around you the moment Viktor gently pulled the handle to close the door. It slid with a deep metallic groan, settling into place with an audible clunk.

Your breathing hitched slightly, but you kept a smile plastered on your face, still holding his hand as if it were a lifeline.

Viktor, utterly delighted, hummed appreciatively as the mechanism engaged. “Remarkable. The craftsmanship is truly exceptional—the balance of form and function. And these gears, see the way they interlock? It’s as though—” He paused mid-sentence, glancing down at you. “Are you alright? You’re gripping my hand rather tightly. Not that I am complaining of course.”

You blinked up at him, your chest tightening as you struggled to keep calm. “I’m fine,” you lied, your voice pitched slightly higher than usual.

Viktor’s brow furrowed in concern, but before he could press further, the elevator lurched and trembled under your feet. A hollow metallic thud reverberated through the space, and then… nothing. The lift shuddered and stopped.

��Oh no,” you muttered under your breath, your hand darting to the handle. You tugged on it once, then again, harder this time, but it wouldn’t budge. The handle jammed in place, as immovable as the walls surrounding you.

“Wait, hold on,” Viktor said, his voice calm but curious as he leaned forward to inspect the mechanism. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s stuck,” you replied quickly, trying not to sound panicked. Your hand dropped from the handle as your fingers fidgeted at your side, searching for something to grasp. “It’s not moving. It’s… oh gods.”

You started breathing faster, each inhale sharper than the last.

“Hey,” Viktor said softly, his tone gentle now, his attention fully on you. “What’s going on?”

“I—” you hesitated, your voice catching as you looked at him. You didn’t want to ruin the moment, but there was no hiding it now. “I might not be… the best in small spaces.”

His face softened instantly, the corners of his mouth dipping into a sympathetic frown. “You’re claustrophobic?”

“Maybe a little. And this…” You gestured vaguely at the enclosed space, the walls that felt closer with each passing second. “I don’t know. It’s just—”

“Alright, alright,” Viktor interrupted gently, turning fully to face you, his hand squeezing yours where it rested against his chest. His voice was soft but firm, grounding. “Breathe with me. Slowly, pomalý,” he murmured, his tone warm, almost coaxing. “I need you to try and name five things you can see.”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, frustration flickering in your chest as you stared at him, willing him to drop the exercise. But his steady gaze told you he wouldn’t budge. Reluctantly, you glanced around.

“Um… a broken handle,” you muttered, rolling your eyes, though your voice betrayed your unease. “Uh… my shoes,” you added, but the words wavered, cracking like brittle glass.

Viktor’s hand shifted to pull you closer, his forehead gently pressing against yours. His breath, soft and warm, fanned across your face, calming one part of you, while unnerving the other. “Very good,” he said quietly. “Three more things. Anything you can see,” he encouraged, a faint smile lighting his features, his amber eyes bright with reassurance.

A strange lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down and tried again. “Your buttons… your hands… your freckles,” you blurted out quickly, the words tumbling over each other before you could stop them. It wasn’t until the words were out that you realised everything you’d named had been Viktor.

He let out a quiet sweet laugh, his chest moving against your hand. “Very good,” he said again, his voice laced with amusement. “Now—four things you can touch.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles, making your heart stutter.

You inhaled shakily, closing your eyes to concentrate. “Wood… uh, the metal,” you began, though your throat tightened as you spoke.

“Good,” Viktor said soothingly. “Two more. Don’t overthink it—anything you can touch, no matter how small.”

You hesitated for a moment, then exhaled a resigned sigh. “Your hair… and your hand,” you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Heat crept up your cheeks, and you silently prayed you could blame it on the anxiety instead of… well, him.

Viktor’s smile softened, a hint of understanding dancing in his expression. “Very good,” he said simply, his hand steady in yours.

“Now—three things you can hear. Take your time,” he added, lowering his voice, the soft click of his tongue echoing faintly in the confined space.

You glanced up, meeting his gaze, and felt your chest tighten for a different reason entirely. “The metal cracking,” you said after a moment, your voice strained as you took a shallow breath. “My heavy breathing… and your voice.”

“You’re doing so well,” Viktor murmured, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles along your skin. “Two things you can smell,” he continued, his voice dipping lower as he shifted ever so slightly closer, the space between you shrinking. His nose nearly brushed yours, and you felt your lungs hitch, though now it had little to do with the cramped elevator.

“Oil… and parchment,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your eyes fluttered shut.

There was a faint noise from Viktor—a soft clearing of his throat—and you felt warmth bloom across his cheeks, his flustered reaction oddly comforting. At least you weren’t the only one affected by the closeness.

He leaned in just a fraction more, his cheek brushing against yours, the soft skin of his jaw teasing under your ear. His heartbeat was rapid under your intertwined hands, the rhythm betraying his otherwise steady demeanour. “Last one,” he murmured, his breath brushing your earlobe. “One thing you can taste?”

Your eyelids cracked open, your gaze falling on the column of his neck, mere inches away. For a heartbeat, time froze. Before you could second-guess yourself, you pressed your lips to his skin and whispered, “You.”

Viktor exhaled sharply, the sound trembling as it escaped. Without breaking position, he propped his cane against the wall and brought his hand to your cheek, his touch warm and grounding. You leaned into his palm, a quiet hum slipping from your lips.

His face hovered close to yours, his breath mingling with your own as he murmured, “Now I find myself in need of calming some anxiety.”

“Well, why don’t you name five things you can see, then?” Your voice slipped back into a teasing lilt; the tiny space of the elevator forgotten, replaced by the infinitely smaller space shared between the two of you.

“Hmm,” he mused, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Your ear,” he murmured before placing a soft, lingering kiss on your earlobe. “Your neck,” he added, brushing his lips gently against it. “Your eyes,” came next, accompanied by a featherlight peck on your brow. “Your nose,” he whispered, dropping another kiss just above its bridge. His tone deepened as he concluded, “And your chin.” He placed the final kiss there, smiling as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Very well,” you breathed, the places his lips had touched burning and tingling with an intensity that left you dizzy. “Now, four things you can touch, was it?”

“Your skin,” he replied immediately, taking a deep breath as his hands framed your cheeks, his thumbs brushing your jaw. “Your neck,” he chuckled softly, letting his palms glide down the sides of your throat, the light pressure sending a shiver down your spine. “Your collarbones,” he added, his thumbs pressing firmly against the delicate ridge, “and your shoulders.” His hands lingered there, warm and steady.

“You’re doing so well, Viktor,” you teased lightly, your eyes fluttering shut as you focused on his touch. “Next, three things you can hear.”

“Your voice,” he said, his thumb brushing against your lower lip, the faint scrape of his nail sending a ripple of heat through you. “Your breath,” he added, his gaze locking with yours, quiet intensity simmering in his amber eyes. After a brief hesitation, his hand moved to rest over your sternum. “And your heart. A very loud little thing,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower.

“We’re almost done,” you whispered, your breath hitching as he pulled you closer, his hands firm at your waist. “Two things you can smell.”

Viktor’s arms caged you in as he leaned in, his face burying in the crook of your neck. His voice rasped, “Your hair… and your skin. My favourite smells.” He inhaled deeply, his breath ghosting across your neck, his lips brushing faintly against your tendon. You felt his nose press against your skin as he trailed his open mouth along your neck, leaving a path of heat in its wake.

You swallowed hard, your body bracing for the last part. “A thing you can taste?” Your voice was quiet, barely audible.

“You, hopefully,” Viktor murmured, cupping your face gently as his lips brushed yours, tentative at first. His mouth was warm, tasting faintly of green tea, and when you glanced up, you noticed his ears were flushed red, his cheeks dusted a deep pink.

One of your hands found its way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair, while the other settled on his hip, where his vest shifted to reveal a sliver of skin beneath. At your touch, Viktor groaned softly into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips as he tilted his head and let his tongue glide across your upper lip.

Your brows furrowed briefly, your eyes fluttering closed as you parted your lips to let him deepen the kiss. His hands slid from your cheeks to cradle your waist, one slipping up your back to press against your shoulder blades, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

His weight leaned into you, his breath filling your lungs with warmth, and a soft moan escaped your lips. Viktor echoed the sound, his chest vibrating with it, and the sensation rippled through you, your heart fluttering wildly against his. Your lips felt swollen under his, your fingers tugging at his hair to keep him anchored against you.

He obliged, pressing into you further as he guided you back a step until your back met the cold wood of the elevator wall. His lips left yours to travel down your neck, the heat of his mouth searing into your skin as he pressed soft, insistent kisses. He sucked gently at the base of your neck, pulling a startled giggle from you, and when he seemed satisfied with the mark he left, he dragged his tongue flat against the spot before returning to your mouth.

The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, his lips moving with an intensity that left you dizzy. Yet, even in his eagerness, Viktor’s touch remained steady, his hold on you firm but reverent, as though you were something precious to him. When you finally felt yourself running out of breath, Viktor pulled back just enough, a translucent string of saliva still connecting your mouths.

“So… um…” you whispered, your breath shallow and quick. “I take it you like your present?”

Viktor brushed his nose gently against yours, his eyes fluttering shut as he nodded eagerly. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice low and hushed, “yes, very beneficial... very good gift. Possibly the best one anyone's ever given me.”

You hummed contentedly, settling yourself more comfortably in Viktor's arms, your head resting against his chest. The warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart, was enough to make you forget the rest of the world. But as the seconds passed and the kiss-induced haze begun to clear, reality seeped back in. You tilted your head up, suddenly aware of your position—still trapped in the elevator.

"So... how long do you think we're going to be stuck here?" you asked, the playful hint still lingering in your voice.

Viktor's lips twitch into a small smile, his hands gently stroking your back as he leaned closer. "Well, how long would you like to be stuck here?" he teased, his eyes glinting mischievously.

You blinked, confused for a moment. "What do you mean? You know how to fix it?"

His smile widened, and there was a slight glint of guilt in his eyes. "Well, I'm an engineer after all," he said, his tone almost sheepish. "I knew the minute it broke."

"Viktor!" you exclaimed in mock offense, lightly batting his chest with your hand. "You knew the whole time?" He chuckled softly, his gaze softening as he looked down at you, clearly amused. "What can I say? I like a little... suspense."

[ghstchan]

— incantation ;

→ pairing : hyunjin x male reader

→ summary : hyunjin is no stranger when it comes to the world of witchcraft and magic. one night, he has a bad feeling about his home and he goes to investigate but it’s not what he thinks.

→ genre : angst

→ warnings : blood, murder, betrayal, some gory scenes, mentions of sharp objects.

→ word count : 2,652

→ author’s note: i was channeling gojo satoru, scarlet witch, seulgi 28 reasons era, vengeful witch while writing this.

→ songs currently stuck in my head :

cry for me by twice, crown by seulgi, red sun by dreamcatcher, venom by stray kids, this world by ateez.

hyunjin was known by those around him as something of a psychic, in the sense that whatever he dreamed of would eventually happen in real life. everything from great fortune and luck to his friends, premonitions of demonic entities terrorizing the living, and death to those who crossed him in the past.

one famous instance of death to someone who crossed him was 5 or so years ago, when a close friend at the time, whom hyunjin considered a sibling-level kind of friend, committed the ultimate act of betrayal towards him. hyunjin and his boyfriend, at the time, had broken up, and it was a very heavy breakup in emotional terms, especially towards hyunjin. word had spread that his best friend and his now ex-boyfriend at the time were at a party together; lots of heavy drinks were involved, and his friend brought the ex over to the apartment that he and hyunjin had shared. they had hooked up that same night on the living room couch. lucky for them, hyunjin was not home.

hyunjin has a psychic ability, similar to spidey sense, when something is wrong or something bad is about to happen. some people call it intuition, but he calls it a warning sign. the voice that warns him usually says the name of the person, a command, or something that’s coming.

he was at a friend’s house because he didn’t want to be alone during such an emotional time. they were watching a movie, and just as hyunjin was about to fall asleep, that’s when the "hyunjin-sense" began. it started as a sharp sting in his mind and trickled into goosebumps across his body, which is then followed by a voice in his mind. "check home." the voice says. "do you mind if you take me home? i have to check something." he says. "is it your senses going off again?" the friend asks.

hyunjin only gave him a look and that was all the friend needed. it didn’t take him long to find the keys to his car and for both of them to head over to hyunjin’s place within a matter of minutes. the friend parks his car right in front of the apartment building. "i won’t be long." hyunjin says as he unbuckles his seatbelt. he puts his hands together in a praying gesture, and a wave of absolute silence blankets the car’s atmosphere; hyunjin is deep in thought as he visualizes the interior of the apartment and which room he’s mentally standing in. simple incantation is mumbled under his breath, followed by a simple command. "teleport."

his friend closes his eyes and covers his ears and hyunjin disappears into a blue-to-white mist. "i should probably set a timer to see how long it takes him to get back." chris says before grabbing his phone and setting a stopwatch timer.

hyunjin is now inside the apartment, standing in the bedroom. his eyes fading into a white hue to help him see in the pitch black darkness of the apartment. his arms fall to either side of his body as fingers extend and he gently pushes his hands up and down in a slow, gentle motion. "levitate slightly." his body rises a few short centimeters off the floor, as he does not want to make a sound with his footsteps. smart move on his part.

his heart begins to race, almost like his heart is like a metal detector trying to find the source of what’s making the machine go off. he can hear the creaking of the couch’s wood against the walls, moaning but not agonizing moans of someone who is in excruciating pain; it’s moans of absolute pleasure. "be silent. be careful." the voice says.

he glides towards the bedroom door, placing his hand on the doorknob. "silent." he whispers as he twists the doorknob and slowly pulls the door open. not a single sound is emitted from him opening the door, almost as if he’s a ghost. his heart beats faster as his hand twists the doorknob, as if he’s next in line to get on a rollercoaster.

chris stares at the stopwatch, which is increasing in its time. "fourteen fifty-nine... fifteen minutes. i wonder what he’s doing." he says to himself. he opens youtube to distract himself in the meantime.

the dark brown pupils of hyunjin’s eyes begin to peek through in the midst of the white clouding his corneas as he sees what’s happening in front of him. tears quickly form and roll down his cheeks, and his heart continues beating fast like it’s trying to jump out of his chest. in the living room, with the lights completely off, his best friend in the whole wide world was making love with his ex on the velvet couch.

hyunjin re-enters the bedroom and closes the silent door. his breathing trembles as he inhales and exhales, his heart hitting the overexertion point like it's about to shatter in his body. although he’s floating, his legs feel numb, and he falls silently onto the floor. his eyes can’t stop generating and releasing tears streaming down his face. "be calm. stay in control." the voice says, and almost instantly, hyunjin’s heartbeats calm down, and he wipes the tears off his face.

he takes a few seconds to regain control over his breathing before facing what’s going on within the room just beyond the bedroom door. he sits down on the floor with his legs crossed. his hands lay on his thighs, with his thumb and middle fingertips touching, and his other fingers lay still on his pants fabric.

he mumbles words in pure latin, a language considered dead within modern-day dialects. his eyes continue to form tears that glide down his cheeks, but he feels no sadness anymore. all he feels is pure anger.

the lighting in the entire apartment begins to flicker intensely for a brief two seconds, which catches the attention of adrian, AKA the soon-to-be ex-best friend, who was on the couch. "did you see the lights?" he asks josh, hyunjin’s ex. "yeah but i’m not focused on that right now. i’m only focused on you." josh says. he leans in to kiss adrian.

"go now." the voice screams in hyunjin’s mind, like a war cry. hyunjin’s eyes burst open, glowing in a crimson red color. his body teleports into the living room, directly behind josh. adrian’s eyes widen as he sees hyunjin and he screams like he’s seen a ghost. "behind you!" adrian screams to josh, but josh pulls away and looks behind him only to see nothing behind him. "wh- what? there’s nothing behind me…" josh says. "i saw him. clear as day, hyunjin was right behind you." adrian says in a fearful tone.

"babe, no one’s behind me. if he was here, he’d come right through the front door." adrian says as he laughs. he looks back at josh, only to see hyunjin standing right in front of him. "now you see me." he says as adrian screams bloody murder and is flung towards the front door to the apartment. josh doesn’t see hyunjin but only sees adrian being thrown at the front door. "hyunjin, wherever you are… this isn’t what it means." josh says as his eyes dart around the room, looking for a sign of hyunjin within the room.

the lighting in the room flickers from bright white to a dark red which is followed by slow six knocks at the front door. "josh, are you there? it’s me." hyunjin says. "do not open the door." josh says to adrian. adrian gets up off the floor and dusts himself off, running to grabs his clothes and belongings in a hurried frenzy fueled by fear. "fuck this, i’m leaving." he says.

he runs towards the front door and his hand is now on the doorknob. "do not open that fucking door." adrian says as his voice begins to tremble. "please don’t. something bad is going to happen." he adds as he begins to cry. "i’m not going to be here when that happens." adrian says as his hand twists the doorknob, opening the door and just as he’s about to leave, he stands face to face with hyunjin.

"you’re right about that." hyunjin says as he grabs adrian by his neck, lifting him up off the floor, and throws him back into the apartment. he enters the room then closes the door and locks it with a flick of his finger. "you really think i wouldn’t find out? don’t you know who i am?!" hyunjin exclaims as the room trembles with each word that leaves his mouth.

josh falls back onto the couch and sits in a fetal position, his hands covering his face as he begins to cry into his palms. adrian is searching around for a knife or any blunt object nearby to use as a weapon. adrian finds a knife and places the blade on hyunjin’s throat. "you really think you can just come in here and-" adrian is cut off mid-sentence. josh hears the cutlery begin to shake, uncovering his face only for his eyes to widen.

knives floating all across the living room, the blades pointing directly at adrian at different angles. "you do not get to speak, your actions did all the talking." hyunjin says. "you broke my heart only for you to come into our apartment, actually into my apartment since i signed the lease, and fuck my best friend?" hyunjin asks as the grip of his hand on adrian’s throat begins to tighten and his nails dig into the skin, making droplets of blood trickle down adrian’s neck.

"you broke my heart, now i break you." hyunjin whispers to adrian as his nails slowly pierce into his neck, as he screams in agonizing pain. "feel the pain you gave me when you broke me." hyunjin continues, as josh’s cries form into sobs of fear. "what was it you said earlier?" he asks adrian as both their eyes widen; adrian’s in fear as he remembers what he said, trying to push hyunjin off, and hyunjin’s eyes widen in a rising vengeful anger. the light in the room begins to turn a dark red. "you won’t be here when that happens, was it?" hyunjin asks with a devious smile.

"for once, you’re right about something." hyunjin says as his nails and fingers fully pierce into adrian’s neck, grabbing a hold of his adam’s apple. a single tear rolls down adrian’s cheek as his screams begin to fade out, then hyunjin rips out his adam’s apple, and a squelching sound is emitted.

blood gushes out of adrian’s mouth and throat, onto hyunjin’s face and clothes as well as onto the floor. soon, a pool of blood surrounding their feet grows in width and adrian’s lifeless body falls onto the floor. hyunjin’s face is covered in the dark red liquid as he stands over his ex-boyfriend's body, shocked but soon bursting in laughter. "you two are so done." he says as he turns around to face josh.

the light continues to flicker and hyunjin uses the flickering to his advantage. each time the light goes from bright, he appears one step closer to josh. in the dark, he fades away. the only thing you hear are his heavy footsteps approaching him slowly.

"joshua, you have betrayed me. how could you do something so low and disgusting, especially to me?" he asks. hyunjin’s voice echoes around the room, as josh’s cries begin to return. "in this life and the next, wherever your soul and physical entity is, i will always be there waiting for you to kill you over and over again. you will remain living in fear, trying to hide from me, but i will always find you. i will never let you go." hyunjin says as he conjures a sharp katana glowing in a scarlet red hue.

hyunjin appears in front of josh, pointing the blade at his heart. "consider this a warning." hyunjin points his index finger up then josh’s body begins to levitate up off the couch by his neck. his legs squirm around as his arms try to reach hyunjin but nothing works. "never cross a witch." he says before impaling josh’s chest and digging it into his torso until it appears on the other side, leaving the katana in. "i want you to cry for me." he continues.

hyunjin places his hand on josh’s chest, glaring directly into his eyes. his other hand begins to generate a tiny ball of glowing red fire that grows into an orb to the size of a baseball. hyunjin’s hand pulls away from his chest, transferring the magic energy into both hands now. "my voice is a spell that haunts you. wherever you are, i’m with you." hyunjin says before he slams his hands onto the center of josh’s chest. gut wrenching screams spew out of josh’s mouth as the fiery orbs burn into his skin and hyunjin’s sharp nails dig into his chest to rip his heart out.

his hands grab a hold of josh’s heart, ripping it out in a swift motion. blood spills out from the exposed hole in his chest, quiet whimpers of pain leave his mouth as he stares at hyunjin who holds his beating organ. "die." he says as he rips his heart into two with his fingers. josh’s limbs start to fall and dangle at his side, his head falling and moving side to side as he exhales his final breath.

hyunjin releases the hold of josh’s deceased body and lets his body fall onto the floor. he looks around at the mess he’s made. "what a mess." he says to himself, then snaps his fingers on both hands, making the two bodies and bloody mess all over the apartment and on himself simply vanish into nothingness as if nothing happened. "all better." he says with a smile as he teleports back to chris’ car and into the passenger seat.

"hey! how long did i take?" he asks chris, who was asleep with his phone in his hand. the car turned off by himself, and he sees the stopwatch on chris’ phone screen. "an hour and six minutes.. geez." he whispers as he doesn’t want to wake chris. he puts his hands together in a praying gesture as the car begins to be enveloped in a blue mist, then teleports the car along with themselves back to chris’ house. his car now sat parked in the driveway.

hyunjin exits the car, levitating chris’ body carefully out of the car. he unlocks the front door with a flick of his finger and enters the home. he guides his friend into his bed, wrapping his body with the warm blanket and saying a spell to help him sleep fully until morning. hyunjin closes and locks the door with another flick of his fingers, then lays on the couch, exhaling a sigh of relief. he drifts off into a deep sleep.

hyunjin’s dream starts to reveal a time in history where people were hunting down witches and burning them in an attempt to "cleanse the world of wicked evil." hyunjin could feel himself immersing himself more into the dream, as if he were inside his own dream and exploring around. not before he heard his name being called by an unknown man in his dream, turning around to see someone holding a pitchfork to his neck. "are thou a witch?" the man asks. that’s when hyunjin knew that he wasn’t in a dream anymore... or is he?

[yeehawbvby]

Silver and Gold, Blood and Snow (Gortash x GN!Dark Urge)

Rating: Teen+ (Mentions of canon-typical violence)

Summary: Midwinter is a tenday away, and it has Gortash reminiscing about your holiday celebration just a few years prior.

Author’s Note: This was written as a Ko-fi request for the wonderful @liquid-coffeebear !! It takes place before the events of BG3, but after Durge got Orin'd. The Durge's race, height, gender, etc. are all left completely ambiguous. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do! :D x

Check it out on ao3!

Snow was bountiful in the Lower City this winter.

Enver watched from the balcony as children played outside his fortress: trudging their way through the knee-high substance, pelting snowballs at one another, and letting even the weakest hit knock them down, just to have an excuse to lay atop the soft white sheets beneath them. He viewed passersby buying gifts for loved ones from the local booths and shops, arms full of burlap, and burlaps full of toys and jewelry and clothing galore. He gazed at the warm-blooded Dragonborn denizens walking freely in their typical daywear while the humans, halflings, and everyone else shivered beneath their copious layers.

The Lord had never been one for people-watching, more focused on his duties and plans for the future than those whom he’d spend it with. For some reason, though, he felt nostalgic this year.

He thought back to when you were around. Before Orin had… well, you know.

There was one Midwinter’s eve in particular that stuck out in his memory, as vivid as red on white. You had just finished wreaking havoc, as was your specialty; you would regularly fill the city’s citizens with dread, and leave them with a submissive and naïve hope for a better future that only their Lord could potentially grant them.

Blood had been splattered across the walls of every building you entered that day – the Upper City palace Enver had resided in at the time being the only exception – and in turn, crimson smears stained every inch of snow you stepped in. Of course, as a courtesy towards those you’d slain, you decorated their corpses with ribbons, and garland, and any other festive decor you could rip down from proximate displays. It was the least you could do, really.

In the midst of the chaos, you found time to steal a present for Enver. He’d complained at first that he had enough gold to buy himself anything he wanted. He appreciated the gesture, of course, but what need was there for such menial yearly practices when he could have all of Faerûn – perhaps all of the world – in his palm within the coming years?

You huffed, demanding in spite of your kind eyes that he take the damned gift before you slit his torso open and replace his viscera with it.

You truly were a being after his own heart.

He’d laughed, wordlessly taking the hastily wrapped box from you. After turning the lengthy object over in his hand for a moment, he peered up, only to view you staring intently at your own feet. Shyness was a rare look on you. It fueled Enver’s curiosity, prompting him to finally tear the parchment away from the wooden vessel.

Opening the small metal clasp revealed to him a set of golden gauntlets. There were two arm coverings that looked as if they could be a perfect fit for his person, and for his right hand only laid somewhat of a glove piece. Along with these came a set of rings, some of which resembled claws.

The ore had been molded into serpentine designs, yet within the right-hand adornment laid an empty crevice. It looked as though it was meant for a jewel of sorts, but the poor soul these had been lost to hadn’t had a chance to insert it yet.

Enver tilted his head, poring over every detail of the accessories. The back of his mind wondered just who these were originally for – certainly it must have been an elite, given the intricate craftsmanship – but his consideration evaporated as he realized it mattered not.

The poor soul was long gone anyway.

For the first time in ages, someone had rendered him speechless. He looked up at you, whose gaze was back on his. Your eyes glimmered with a hope you clearly hadn’t wanted to be seen. You knew he respected you as his equal; that he trusted you with his life, to rule his world alongside him… yet you seemed to search for his praise..?

It was silly, really. Of course you’d earned it. These were perfect for him. He closed the gap between the two of you, placing the box in your hands so he could try the gauntlets on. The rings fit splendidly. The arm pieces could use some adjusting, as they were a bit too snug, but it was nothing his personal smith couldn’t fix.

Using one of his newly equipped prosthetic nails, he tugged you closer, planting a kiss to your slightly chapped lips. It was all the approval you needed.

In the present day, Enver looked down at the gauntlets. He rarely removed them – they’d become an integral part to his aesthetic. The empty slot that once was now contained his beloved Netherstone. Not only did your gift have sentiment, but it served a grander purpose than you’d ever come to know.

Enver missed you. Orin was a fine accomplice, but if anyone was to be Bhaal’s chosen, it should have been you… and if anyone was to share his companionship, it needed to be you. His heart felt empty in your wake.

He headed back into his chambers, requesting a cup of mulled wine from one of his servants. The same blend you’d shared on that cold Midwinter’s eve.

This Midwinter was just a tenday away. Perhaps he’d have a lonely celebration of his own this year. He’d relax by a fire and drink in your honor, reminiscing of old times and musing what could have been.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi! I just read your latest work and I have a similar request.

A young teacher at Nevermore who scatters as soon as she sees Marilyn because she likes her a lot, maybe the reader could love ABBA and be dancing around her class to their songs?

Just a lot of fluff and sweetness please.

Yesss!!! Here it is!!! I love ABBA too, they are amazing!! I put my favourite song on that work, I hope you like it!! Sorry about the language mistakes!!!

You're in the mood for a dance

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill x Fem Teacher! Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word count: 2,714

Summary: You’re a new teacher at Nevermore, and you always look like a serious girl, or this is the way you want people to see you. But when you are with Marilyn, things are different…

N/A: Requests are open!!! I love you all, I don’t know how to thank to you all the support you give to me… You should listen to this beautiful song while you’re reading!!

When the class ended and all the students left, you could breathe easy. With all the high schools in the state, you had to work in the strangest. It was not something unusual, since you were little you had a very close relationship with electromagnetism. Your classmates started to run away from you when the dining room cutlery stuck all over your body.

Nevermore was the perfect place for you, but you had a great sense of responsibility, and you told yourself that you weren't there solely because of your powers. You were a great mathematician, and you intended to prove it. As soon as you arrived, everything seemed strange to you and thousands of fears formed in your body. Little by little they disappeared, and you got used to this new life.

Even so, each class you gave, gave you terrible nerves and anxiety, and you only had one remedy for that, your music. As if your life depended on it, you took the iPod out of your bag and put on the headphones, feeling infinitely better when the music began to play. After staying for a while listening, you left the class, moving your head slightly to the rhythm of the music. Some students smiled at you, but if they said something about you, you weren't able to hear it. That's partly why you started to enjoy music.

Going down the stairs, you saw that woman, loaded with too many things. When you saw a pot you had no doubt, it was her.

You were on friendly terms with the rest of the teachers at the academy, but Marilyn Thornhill was different. The fact that she was normie wasn't relevant at all, it was… Something else. Normally you were serious, but sure of yourself, at least that's what you pretended to be. Not with her. With her you got especially nervous, and you were unable to calculate how much one plus one was. Among all the things you expected to happen to you in that strange academy, falling in love was not among your plans, much less falling in love with someone with whom your chances were practically nil.

“You’re very kind, guys,” the redhead said, ironic when she saw two students who completely ignored her. You took off your headphones and saw the perfect opportunity to be a hero, her hero.

“Wait, wait. Let me help you,” you said, approaching awkwardly and taking the pot.

“Oh, (Y/N), thank you…” She told you, smiling, placing the rest of the stuff in a better way. A familiar warmth told you that your cheeks were turning red, and that was bad, very bad. A clinking metal sound suddenly appeared and after that, some keys that Marilyn was holding went straight into your face.

“Shit… Damn…” You said, feeling that small object stuck to your face. “Sorry, I am, I am a walking magnet.”

“How funny,” she said, looking at you and probably holding back a laugh. “Hang on a minute.”

Marilyn left the bags she was carrying on the floor and gently took the keys from your face.

“Tha, thanks,” you whispered. You really didn't know if she heard you or not, as you concentrated as hard as you could not to attract more objects towards you. “Where, where do you need this?”

“I was going to take this cutie to the conservatory. If you accompanied me, you would do me a great favor, “she told you innocently. You nodded, trying to hide your embarrassment behind that plant.

You walked in silence towards the old building. She was perfect to you, and painfully unreachable. In all your life, no one had been able to upset your serious and formal countenance, ever. Maybe it was just the first impression, but after two months of feeling the same, you had no way to keep fooling yourself.

“You can leave it on the table if you want,” she told you when you entered. You obeyed, and you were paralyzed for a second. “Thanks for the help, (Y/N)”

“You're welcome, Marilyn.”

You had never entered that building, and you stood watching for a moment. You were quite curious, and the plants that were there caught your attention a lot.

“You can leave if you want, honey. Now I can manage by myself,” she told you in a sweet way. Bad idea. A metal watering can on the floor started to move towards you, but this time your hands were free, and you were able to catch it before it hit you.

“Wow…” The redhead said, getting out of the way in time.

“I, I'm sorry. Normally I can control it quite well,” you said, doing your best to appear the same person you were when you weren't in front of her.

“Normally?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes, yes, well… If I get nervous… Well…” You had just said something you didn't mean.

“Are you nervous? Why? I have always seen you very calm”

“Well, I get nervous very easily, but I try to appear serious, that always helped me a lot. In fact, thanks to that I got this job,” you lied, blatantly, but it worked, and the metal objects in that place stopped trembling.

“It must be very uncomfortable. I imagine that when you had an exam, or you had a date, it would be a problem.” Did she say a date?

“I had to find a way to control it. Because of me they started giving us all plastic cutlery,” you explained, feeling more relaxed. As if talking was taking longer than usual, you took your music player out of your pocket. “This helps me a lot.”

“Oh, music?”

“Yes, I love music. I suppose that if I didn't like it, it wouldn't help me at all.” You decided to take advantage of the moment, and have a longer conversation with her. It was the perfect time and place. “Hey, I've heard that music is also good for plants.”

“Well, partly yes, partly no,” she told you, looking at that plant that you had helped to bring. “It's a half-truth.”

“Half- truth?” You asked curiously.

“Mmm,” she murmured, observing meticulously the leaves of the plant. “You see, people think that you have to play classical music to plants, that in some way helps them grow and, let's say, makes them happy,” she told you calmly. Her calm tone of voice seemed to have the ability to hypnotize you. “Well that's true. But what not everyone knows is that it is not because of the beauty of the melody or the music itself.”

“Oh?” You asked as if you were a little girl, resting your elbows on her desk.

“No. The plants do not distinguish between Mozart or Jason Derulo, but they are capable of distinguishing certain frequencies. These are the ones that actually help the plants to grow and develop.

“Wow, that's interesting,” you sighed, feeling how a myth was demolished on your thoughts.

“You're the only one who thinks it, apparently,” she said, with a certain sadness in her voice.

“What?”

“Well, no one apart from the students had bothered to listen to me for more than 30 seconds. I've been here for a year and a half, and I don't know if it's because of the plants or because I'm normie, but there are people who don't even know my name.”

“I don't understand,” you said, shaking your head. Who wouldn't want to talk to her? It was absurd.

“That's because you're young,” she answered you, sticking a small dagger into your heart. You didn't think your age was a problem for her, if she was interested in you, which of course she wasn't. Just when you thought she had just inadvertently told you that she would never notice you, she brought her hand up to your face, gently caressing your cheek. Miraculously there were no metal objects stalking you, probably because your own nerves were instantly paralyzed. “Thanks anyway, (Y/N). There aren't too many people like you.”

“I'm just me,” you said, feeling her hand like it was hot lava.

“Hey... It will seem crazy to you...” She told you, taking her hand away from her and looking at you with a serious expression... “But, I don't know, we could...”

Just as she was about to finish a sentence that was sure to make you faint instantly, your boss, Principal Weems, appeared there.

“(Y/N), I was looking for you,” she told you elegantly. Marilyn returned to her plant, as if she hadn't meant to say anything. You couldn't feel a bit of anger towards Larissa.

“Is something wrong?” You asked, looking askance at the redhead.

“Some werewolves have decided to stop by your class and start a ruckus. That's why we always tell you to close the door when you leave,” she told you, without any reproach. You were new, those mistakes were forgiven.

“Oh… I, I forgot….” You said lamentingly.

“Don't worry, (Y/N), it's not a rule, it's more of a recommendation. You should head over there, lest those hairy teenagers have taken something from you.”

You nodded nervously, and before leaving you looked at Marilyn again. The redhead returned your gaze, and smiling discreetly at you, winked at you. Your heart began to beat faster. Unfortunately for you, part of the conservatory door was made of metal, when you went out through it, it collided with you, causing you to die of embarrassment. Marilyn laughed and continued taking care of her plant.

You were almost euphoric. It was just a feeling, but she was going to ask you for something, a date? A dinner? To be her wife for all eternity? Those fanciful questions occupied all your thoughts. A part of you thought it wise not to get your hopes up.

You entered your class, with some fear.

“Oh, great,” you sighed, seeing as if a tornado had decided to pass by.

You snorted to see how all the papers you had on the table were destroyed and the chairs and desks were everywhere except in their place.

“Damn it, I'm going to give them a test that they won't be able to solve in a million years,” you grumbled, putting an upright chair again.

“Wow, what a mess,” a voice behind you said. It was her. Warning, flying metal objects.

You turned around a little startled.

“Do you want me to help you?” The redhead asked, picking up a bunch of papers from the ground.

“Oh, no, it's not necessary, besides, it was my fault,” you said trembling. She gestured, ignoring your comment, and helped you set up some tables. You were in complete silence, only smiling. You were nervous, since it seemed that Marilyn had no intention of continuing the conversation from a while ago.

“(Y/N)…” She said almost with a small voice. You turned your head so fast that you almost didn't cause a contracture.  “I, I would like that... Well... I wanted to ask you if... Maybe...” You nodded profusely. “Well, I know it's a strange request, but… Do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow?”

Your eyes widened and a stream of happiness passed through your entire body. You weren't wrong.

“Of, of course, I would love it,” you said with your best smile.

“I didn't expect a different answer,” she told you approaching you. “So we can get to know each other a little better, and you tell me what you like so much about me.”

You nodded without having finished understanding her words. When the last sentence reached your brain, you felt like you were short of breath. You couldn't have heard wrong, it was exactly what you heard.

“What?” You asked shaking your head. She didn't answer, she just leaned into you and kissed your cheek.

“You're a wonderful girl, (Y/N), but you don't hide too well,” she said, amused. You didn't know where to go. She was too close, smiling quietly, as if she hadn't told you that she's known for a long time that you like her. “But I want to do things well. I would not like to rush.”

You were embarrassed. You could only move your head up and down. Marilyn laughed and gave you a quick caress on the cheek, before heading out the door.

When she was far enough away, you took a big leap into the air. You wanted to scream, run, cry with joy. You were never lucky in love, until that day, when your dreams came true for once. You knew you were going to be thinking about that dinner the whole time, but first you had to pick up the rest of the werewolf hurricane.

You began to hum, while you picked up the papers that were on the floor. Beneath a stack of uncorrected exam papers, a silver antenna peeked out. It was a radio, an old one, but a radio. It was almost like a sign of fate. You caught it excited. You loved those kinds of old gadgets. You turned it on, and to your surprise, it worked.

“And now, the local news: Mayor Walker tries to reassure the public after the mysterious bear attacks that…”

“Silence,” you said, trying to tune into a music station. With your hand, you tried to locate something worth listening to, things were made much better with music.

“A classic that is always worth listening to... "Dancing Queen" by the wonderful Swedish group, ABBA...”

You smiled. It was as if everything around you shared your happiness. ABBA had always been your favorite group. Their songs had been present in the happiest moments of your life. You left the radio on the table, while your body moved to the rhythm of the music. The happiness that invaded you was so great that while you finished setting the tables, you moved as if you were a music star.

“And when you get the chance…” You sang, feeling uninhibited.

Ordering the class went into the background, it was much better to dance for joy. Your favorite song, from your favorite group and an upcoming date with your favorite woman. You were not ashamed. You were alone in that class, using an old broom as a microphone.

You went from one place to another, jumping for joy while you sang. Everything at that moment was perfect, there was nothing that could spoil it, or so you thought.

The end of the song was near and your movements were limited to spinning and moving your arms forward, as if you were ready for a tremendous finale.

“Diggin’ the dancing queen…” You sang out loud. But you weren't alone, another voice sang with you, and it wasn't the one on the radio. You noticed scared how two hands had landed on your hips. You swallowed hard and  you were afraid to look back, but you had no choice but to do so.

“It seems you're happy...”

It couldn't be. Marilyn was there and you didn't even notice. Your whole body stiffened and you wanted to disappear, to be swallowed up by the earth.

“I… I… How long have you been there?” You asked. The shame was extreme. A metal stapler went straight for you, but she put her hand in front of her and caught it before it hit you.

“Relax, it’s okay. I should have warned you, but I thought you were so adorable…” She murmured. “Anyway, I thought that if you don't mind… We could have dinner tonight, the truth is that I'm not good at waiting, what do you think?”

Marilyn turned you around and faced her, without taking her hands off your waist.

“Oh, well…” You stammered. As if it were a reflex action, you put your hands on her waist.

“Do you mind if I give you a kiss?” She asked you, with an almost inaudible tone of voice. You shook your head, trying to undo the knot that had formed in your stomach.

It was a tender, slow kiss. It wasn't the first, but it was the only one you really wanted to give. You couldn't be happier.

“I think we really should get to know each other…” she sighed, still very close to your lips.

“Yes… I think so too…”

[b-free]

Out for Stone, But Found Some Scraps

OC LORE POST? Little bit. Mind you this is written with less inspiration and more a need to get something down as I work some bugs out in my brain. BUT YAY. Need to get used to tagging too hmmmmm.

When the cup just kinda detached itself from the handle of the mug of hot coffee, Hafiz knew it was gunna be a Day. His white eye-lights stared at the liquid filled thing on his fold out table, then the partial ring of ceramic that was left in his hand.

“Fantastic.” The dry tone was accompanied by a tired look from the eyes on his visor and a frown on his lips as he let himself pick up the warm mug and down what he could before setting it aside. That could be fixed with the proper type of glue later. For now… He had a to do list. A change out of his pajama bottoms and into his usual black tank top and black shorts was all that was really needed before he was out the door with his keys.

First the supply run, which was more of a supply stroll. The building he lived in was close enough to one of the Supply Centers that the trip was just kinda… walk down the street, cross a couple, go in and find what he needed. The walk was nice and calming, the few towering buildings around gave the city some atmosphere as he went. The squabbling of some birds above and the passing chatter of a group returning from what he himself was out to do was all that really filled the air. It was a nice and sort of calm day.

Maybe the weird cup thing was just… a weird cup thing?

That thought stayed through the day, past the cleaning and the brief bit of work, and into the little favor asked of him by his friend. The little favor making him stop in at his apartment, needing his usual backpack for supplies and an empty sports bag for what he needed to collect. Armed with a bag full of snacks and a few emergency medical supplies, he headed out of the city’s limits as the sun began to set, thinking about the reaction he might get.

Thoughts of the drone slipped away as he looked at the area, taking out his pen-light to peek around as the day grew darker. A hand was placed on the trunk of a carefully inspected tree before that feeling was back in full force.

After all, who expected to find a dead child in the woods?

Or… sort of dead? The blaring red of Fatal Error switched to a clear bright green set of closed eyes, the damaged glass of the core barely seen behind two objects stuck in the chest of the small drone. A shirt, far too large for the body in a faded threadbare maroon color, was torn open and caught on a low-hanging branch. The cracked visor showed they didn’t wake up, though the steam coming off of the small body… Were they overheating? That shouldn’t be possible-

“Help. It.” The sport bag full of rocks was almost dropped as Hafiz jumped, the pen light turned toward the voice that spoke.

Three yellow eyes stared from under the shirt portion stuck on the branch, the dark almost black green of the… thing with a mouth seemed to be reforming? It too was smoking lightly, almost as if something had set it aflame. The mouth opened, weak feminine voice speaking again.

“Help… It…” The yellow flickered, overtaken by green and filling the area with silence and the hiss of repairing metal and organic matter.

“Uh… Ok this might be happening.” Kids were… uncommon. Most drones in the city didn’t seem to feel the need to make ‘families’ in the traditional sense. As such he probably knew of like… what, two in his settlement? This one might count now though…

With careful hands, the shirt was removed from the branch with minimal material loss, though the fact most of it seemed to just kind of… disintegrate… that was a bad sign right? Like yeah, people wore stuff until it fell apart, but this was beyond that. He shook his head, sticking the light in his mouth and leaning forward. The moment he got much closer made him realize that yeah… the little one was probably overheating and too damaged to do much about it. Hafiz shook his head, taking off his backpack to pull out the canteen of oil, moving through the brush to get to the child’s head.

“Come on… Maybe you can-” Carefully moving the little drone’s head seemed to get a look, and then a low hiss came from their little body, teeth bared in a weak and threatening manner. It made Hafiz nearly drop them, but determination to help outweighed the startled fear that rose up. “J-just have some… come on.” A bit of oil was carefully splashed onto the little drone’s cheek, their tongue peeking out to lick as a reaction before a small hand was holding the arm with the canteen far too tight and yanking it down to the little mouth.

There was a light crunch as the container was bitten into, teeth catching one of Hafiz’ fingers and making the adult wince before the sound of the oil being drained from the container was caught. At least that could be fixed. Azha was pretty skilled with the whole ‘doctor’ thing.

A crunch brought Hafiz to look at the small drone, the container being eaten now, and quite frankly, Hafiz was fine to let go. In doing so, his own arm was released, now hosting a rather painful warp from the hand of the child and a missing finger cap. That was something to handle later, though. For now, he had a child to… rescue? Help?

“Alright. You can eat that, and I…” There was a low hiss as Hafiz picked the small drone up, the side that was against the ground revealing wear and more physical damage as the child was carefully maneuvered to avoid the severe damage from touching the older drone. “Ok, yes, you don’t like this. It’s kind of important though. I just need to get you somewhere I can hide you…” Well that didn’t sound good. “Uh… Help you? Yeah that’ll… Alright this is not how I expected today to go.”

Thankfully, at the sunset hour, most drones were either in their homes or out at a gathering place. The streets got to be fairly quiet, especially this far out, but getting closer to his apartment had Hafiz move slightly slower and look around a lot more.

Thankfully the child was not prone to making sound, other than the hiss of whatever was happening to their tail or some injuries. It sped up after the oil was shared, and Hafiz tucked that fact away for later.

After the fumbling with his door with full arms that is. Trying to unlock a door with his arms full of hurt strange mystery child was not something he ever imagined he would need to do, but here he was as he kicked the door closed as gently as he could to not alert the neighbors and set the child on his couch to close the windows. A grinding sound caught his attention, looking back to see the child working on pushing themselves up with self-repairing arms. Now that he could see the damage properly…

“Holy shit kid…” A nearly smashed core, dried leaves and a couple small sticks stuck between the glass and some weird fleshy membrane, the open cavity drooling oil and… was that blood? Did this kid have flesh somehow? Hafiz stared in horror as the tiny drone tried to take up a threatening position, that tail that had spoken earlier being smacked into the back of the couch and sending a splatter of blood right into the kitchenette.

“I just- ugh.” Ok. More cleaning later. For now… For now he had to work with what he could.

If you asked if he would find himself, hours after he was supposed to be hunting specific types of rocks and plant samples for his friend, instead caring for an injured and feral looking child… He’d have said you needed your head checked. Sure, now he thought he needed the same, but that wasn’t the point here. The point was, he managed to get the child to let him near enough that he could remove the leaves and twigs from the glass around the small drone’s core. The fact there wasn’t something in the way seemed to let a little damage heal, but not all of it for some reason?

Hafiz put the debris aside for later tossing out as he looked at the tiny drone, now curling up and glaring at him.

“Can’t talk, shirt too big, bad coordination… I really hope I’m not coming to the conclusion that I’m slowly coming to.” Hafiz sighed and moved, earning a new hiss. “Just… going to sleep. You know, sleep?” God it felt… weird to try communicating with the kid. They seemed to barely understand, and without a voice, other than what the yellow eyed tail said… Hafiz wasn’t comfortable calling them anything other than they or them. Or kid of course. For now he had to send a text and get some rest. Another day might shed some light on the world, right?

The phone was put away, and he sighed as he flopped onto the bed in his room. Another day… another day for whatever this whole thing was.

Maybe more than a day.

At least more than one day until the little feral child managed to get out, fed and somewhat repaired enough that they could manage to slip out the door when Hafiz was returning from a supply run.

Thankfully it was night when the event happened, and the only real issue that happened was that it looked like someone had been mugged when he caught the small one and brought the kid back to the apartment. It resulted in some damage to his arms, but once he had the child settled in with a large can of oil, he attended to it.

“Alright, what the hell have you gotten into with this?” The sound of hissing followed the door closing, Hafiz looking up from where he had been about to pick up his phone to see the friend he was about to call standing shocked in front of the closed door.

“Hey Azha.” He smiled a little bit, relaxing before coming up to try and convince the child she was not a threat.

Azha seemed to wear rather plain clothes. A frill-sleeved dress that looked a bit torn near the bottom hem at her knee area held an off white color. It contrasted a little with the dark visor, blue eye-lights staring at the calming damaged child with a bit of worry on her expression. Short mint-green hair was brushed out of her face.

“What the hell-”

“It’s a long story… look she’s ok! No hurt. Just move a little slow alright? I think they’re… uh… no shit traumatized but…” Hafiz shrugged. “Remember when I said I’d need to go rock hunting another day? Well… this is kinda why.”

“You found a…”

“Nearly dead child in the woods on my way to get those rock samples. Just didn’t really know how to say anything about it.” Hafiz blushed and rubbed the back of his head, the short black hair ruffling a little more with the action as a bit of oil dripped off his arm. “Or… yanno, what exactly is going on with them. I mean…”

“Yeah I notice the tail. Clearly organic in make up, and the damage that shows some kind of… flesh? On the inside?” Azha tilted her head and she moved at a distance to see if she could get a better look. The blue eyes narrowed a little, and she huffed. Not easy without being close, and the way the child was growling low…

“Well. I know what I have to do.” She offered a little smile to Hafiz. “Mind if I stay over for a bit?”

The man blushed, a little alarmed as she walked up slowly to look at his arm.

“Stay here? Over here? But I- But they- but you-”

“ ‘Yes Azha, I have room if you’re ok with helping me out!’ Well no problem Fizzy. What are friends for? Now let me handle your arms, and then I’ll get some stuff from my place, and you can set me up… in your room since this little guy clearly has the couch?”

Hafiz stumbled over his words as she made a quick repair before almost skipping out of the door, leaving him with a hissing child and a blush on his face.

What the hell was he getting into?

[venalos]

A Glavenus' senses were sharp, a Hellblade Glavenus' even sharper, and King's senses were easily the sharpest of his kind. Passive at first, his head immediately snapped upwards the moment his keen nose picked up the scent of human. He raised his nose to the forest breeze, sniffing the air, his jaws parting in a metallic growl. He never did like humans; those soft, squishy, hairless apes who always stuck their noses into business that they had no business partaking in.

King's Rider was the only human he could tolerate, and that was mainly because his Rider was tough enough to take an explosion or two without being instantly vaporised or blown to pieces.

A glint caught his eye, revealed by an errant ray of light passing through the canopy, and instinct drove his next move. He whipped his massive head around, jaws opened wide only to snap shut around the flying object! The Ultra Ball was instantly devoured, shattered, black-and-yellow shards sent scattering into the grass. What remained in his jaws was swiftly melted down in the red-hot furnace that was his throat, so hot as to glow through the skin of his neck, exactly like the lesser Poké Ball King had eaten earlier.

Scalding-hot slag dribbled from between his jaws as King fixed his crimson eyes on the source of the projectile -- a pathetic little girl. He was frighteningly intelligent, in a moment's notice allowing him to identify her pose as that of a human that had just thrown something. So too did he identify that she had just meant to capture him, and he did not appreciate the idea in the slightest.

A lesser human? Trying to tame a mighty beast as himself? Such a preposterous thought!

... It would not matter, regardless, seeing how he had already been tamed by someone else.

The fact that she tried still remained, however, and in King's mind that was unforgivable. The fiery glow in his throat intensified, his burning tail was brought forward. He bit down on his tail and dragged it through his mouth, sparks flying, the unique shape of his head working like whetstones to sharpen it. The hazardous materials inside his throat came forth, coating the tail's keen edge in blast powder.

Then his tail blade was pulled free in one violent motion, and, somehow, it looked even more dangerous than before. Gone was the glow of red-hot metal, its appearance now more akin to volcanic rock, with scorching magma peering through cracks. A wayward wind carried away some of the black dust applied to his tail, and soon after the dust burst into heat and flames like firecrackers.

King was a walking forest fire, and he was perfectly aware of it himself. His mighty sword was swung forth in a sweeping motion, razing the forest shrubbery in flames, and a mighty detonation erupting forth from where his tail struck the ground! An inferno burned between him and the interloper as King lunged his head forward and roared, his bellow deep and booming and ear-shattering.

His message was clear; "Try me."

Perhaps behemoth would have been more fitting than monster. Because a monster could be something as small as a Joltik, or as large as an Archaludon. But this... This felt otherworldly.

Even after the creature had been described to her by the frantic young Trainers that, let's be honest now, couldn't possibly have missed it, Lyra found herself reeling from its size. For goodness' sake, a creature that big would've made even her Tyranitar look small!

"Whoa..."

What...species was this? Maybe it was native to Paldea? She didn't know as much about the region as she'd like. Either way, it certainly wasn't native to Johto. Did someone bring it here...? The least she could do was capture it—if she left it to run amok, it'd definitely wind up injuring the wild Pokémon. Maybe Elm or Oak would know what to do from there.

Lyra reached into her bag, pulling out an Ultra Ball. With the most powerful swing she could manage, she chucked it at the creature, eyes wide and attentive.

[writingfics-passingtime]

Playing the Part

~8300 words of steamy Loki tickle fluff

PG13 for this one, kids. Lots of making out.

CW: some swearing, suggestive humour, mentions of murder/death, alcohol consumption

Every job has its ups and downs, and every employee their good days and not-so-good days. You’d hardly classify yourself as an employee because you didn’t get a paycheque, your entire occupation was a hazard unto itself, human-resources was punching it out on the sparring mat and your boss was either a 100-year-old super soldier or an eccentric billionaire, depending on the day and who was wearing what suit.

Wait… should I be getting paid for this?

Looking around your room that you paid no rent on, in a multi-billion dollar superhero compound, you decided that wasn’t a question you were ever going to ask. The question of the hour was which dress would best conceal your thigh-holstered gun.

Today, your job entailed one of those tasks that could be fun if you decided it would be, or hell if you had a bad attitude about it. You prided yourself on always being up for any mission, so that answered that question, though infiltrating some black-tie gala undercover was never as exciting as fighting alien forces.

You gave up feeling guilty about being a little excited when Earth faced threats long ago; no one had to know that impending planetary destruction was your favourite kind of mission to help out on.

Selecting a red strapless dress from the middle of your mission closet (which was differentiated because most of these dresses were bulletproof) you slipped it on over your underwear and thigh holster. A knock came at your door as you were reaching behind yourself to zip it up.

“Come in!”

“Agent, we- oh… Oh.” Loki’s featured turned from surprised to playfully smug in a matter of seconds.

“Can you get this zipper?” You winced at the stuck metal. He nodded and approached, you turned and held the fabric up. Before he even made it halfway to you he gave a brief wave of his hand and used his magic to unstick the zipper, bringing it to the top.

“Thanks,” you smiled, familiar with that particular kind of help from Loki. “Can you see my gun?” You did a little spin and he shook his head. “Great. You look nice," you commented, gesturing to his impeccable black suit.

“As do you.”

“Ready?”

”I suppose there are worse charades to play on a Saturday evening. Ones that don’t include fine wine and the prospect of a tussle with a Midgardian security man.”

You shot him a look as you two walked towards the garage together. “You said no Midgardian wine could be classed as fine.”

“Save for one region in Italy, I’ve discovered.” Loki shrugged, tightening the fastener on his cuff link.

You gave him a mock look of shock. “Are you telling me… you were wrong?“

“Smugness is not becoming, Agent,” Loki playfully warned.

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes. “Looks like I’m spending too much time with you.”

You bickered and bantered good-naturedly as you entered the garage, which was more like a hangar but only for cars. This mission would be you, Loki, Natasha, Sam and, strangely enough, Tony wanted to drive the van. He gave some excuse about wanting to test some new equipment and spend time with his team. Though you knew it was because Pepper wanted him to attend her aunt’s seventieth birthday, and Tony had a long-standing feud with that particular aunt ever since she went on a forty-five minute tirade about how much she hated Led Zeppelin. You weren’t sure if it was the sentiment behind it, or the fact that she could talk for forty-five minutes straight without the awareness to stop. Either way, Tony was on the job tonight.

“Black Widow is already onsite,“ Tony handed you three some photos as you entered and took your seats. “Your names are on the door, fake ones obviously, here they are.” Tony pulled up some information on the screens and then commanded the self-driving van to go with a few taps at a holographic control centre.

You went over the plan, the objective, who to avoid at all costs, where the gun was supposedly hidden. There was a gun used in a murder of a journalist - the employee of an old friend of Tony's, a young guy working on an exposé of a filthy-rich family dynasty in New York City. The journalist was sure the McDane family money came from arms dealing, but he was found dead just a few short months after he started investigating. The following week, Charles, the charming and likeable newly-married eldest son of the family, announced his run for mayor.

Whether Charlie McDane ordered the murder, or if he didn't even know it happened, Tony's source said this family kept trophies of their victories and the murder weapon would most definitely still be in the house.

On the face of it, it was an unusual assignment for the Avengers. If you didn't think that hard about it, you could have just sent Nat in alone. However, the McDane family was even more powerful than they loved to show on the surface, and this wouldn't be a simple theft. Hence, a small team was going in to avenge the fallen journalist.

Natasha had been planted on the inside, posing as an event manager for a soirée the family was hosting to celebrate Charlie’s birthday and, since he’d invited everyone in the political and social scene, it was the perfect chance to enter the mansion; there’s no way he’d know who each and every person was and should be.

As you walked down the road with your arm slotted through Loki's, you eyed the metal detectors at the front entrance. You gripped his arm and slid your hand into the pocket of your dress, but the pocket was hollow and only existed as easy way to grab your gun. Wordlessly, you passed it to Loki and he concealed it with his magic in the exact same way you planned to smuggle the murder weapon out later that evening.

Maybe it was Loki's elegance or your years of training that started when you were very young, but the way you two could instinctively weave around each other's thoughts, ideas and actions without so much as a glance was something special you didn't take for granted. You both had keen senses, but there was some kind of unexplainable energy that made them align perfectly.

You never let your mind wander on nights like these. On missions. Perhaps if you were less professional you'd take a moment to fantasise about what it would actually be like to go to a party with Loki. If the way he led you through the room with a gentle hand at your waist was more than a ploy to look like an adoring couple, or if he knew your favourite wine because he cared, instead of just having heard you order it a million times before.

He kept things light with jokes and little jabs, never once crossing a boundary when fake-flirting with you, but it wasn't lost on you that it was unusual to have this kind of working relationship that had all of the chemistry with none of the awkwardness. It was almost as if it was second nature now for him to pull you a little closer when you were in a nice dress, considering you'd only worn them in front of him on missions. And so he did pull you closer as you approached the bouncer to give your names.

You spied Nat at the front, leaning around a security guard's shoulder to point to something on his list. She always played her parts so well. She stole a glance at you and Loki through her fake glasses and that was it. No indication she knew you, no special treatment, no way she'd do anything to blow this. She walked up the outdoor staircase as you gave your aliased names to the guard and flashed fake drivers licenses that were pretty much real, considering the government had created them.

Loki declined the arrival champagne for the both of you, immediately leading you to the bar. You looked at him as if to remind him that you weren't here to drink, and his subtle smirk replied that he didn't care. He ordered two glasses of a merlot from the one region in Italy that'd won his respect, passing the glass to you once it was laid on the bar.

"To the finer things," he cheers'ed your glass and you scoffed with a laugh, taking a sip of the wine. The rich flavour burst through your mouth. It was dark and deep, spiced with... with... "Cedar," he offered, reading the analysis on your face. "Rosewood, cedar and some sort of stone-fruit."

"Nectarine."

He smiled and took another sip. "We don't have that on Asgard."

"This wine is good," you nodded as you two turned and deconstructed the room and all of its guests.

It made you kind of sick seeing all of these wealthy people in one place pretending to give a damn about Charlie McDane's birthday. It's not that you liked the guy, not at all, it just felt weird to know that every person in here was the exact kind of person you hunted down. Power-hungry. This mansion may as well be a lion's den. But full of naïve lions, who had no idea two apex predators just walked in.

Just when you started wondering how many people in your line of sight had also committed murder to protect their wealth and power, you saw Natasha give a subtle signal of which way the room with the safe was. Loki saw it too.

It was upstairs, but there wasn't much cover to get upstairs. The great foyer's ceiling was three stories up, the two floors above the ground floor you were on had square balconies that let the people upstairs peer downwards into the masses. Nat's fingers adjusting her hair told you that the room was on the second floor. Thankfully, there were guests on the second floor. Under the guise of admiration for the architecture and a desire to explore the great house, you pointed out works of art to Loki as you ascended the stairs together. When you walked past Natasha she smiled politely, like a good host, and asked if you were enjoying the wine.

"It's most divine. Though, I believe my beloved may be in search of a room to powder her nose."

You would have rolled your eyes at his usual choice of asking for information if you weren't aware that security's eyes were everywhere. Even on the event manager.

"You might find what you need up the stairs, down the first hall, third door on your right."

The way her hands were motioning didn't match her hushed description, so you followed the instructions in her voice instead of the way her hands were telling you.

You allowed Loki to lead you upstairs, down the first hall. When you two were certain there were no eyes, he concealed you two with his magic. The hallway was darkened. He pressed his hand against the lock and unfastened it with an unseen pure magic and you two slipped inside. It was a large office with grand mahogany furniture, decorated exactly as you'd expect Old Money Americans to decorate their office. Right down to the bear head above the fireplace and the first edition novels sitting proudly on the shelf, probably unread by their owners. That also made you a little sick: great words sitting unread as trophies.

Scanning the room for any obvious signs of the safe, your eyes settled on a panel in the wood on the side of the desk. There was a slightly smaller gap in the wood on one side, indicating hinges. You held your hands up to Loki and he conjured thin gloves to grace your fingers, then you pressed gently on the wood to engage the latch. The panel swung open to reveal the safe. Shifting out of the way, Loki took your place and placed a gloved hand on the dial. In less than three seconds, it spun rapidly in each direction before clicking open.

"We should really consider robbing banks," you whispered as the black metal door swung open and you were met with stacks of paper and envelopes.

"Need I remind you I am a Prince? If it's gold you want, darling, say the word."

"Eh," you shrugged, feeling around for the gun. "I meant more for the thrills."

Loki chuckled as your fingers found a familiar-feeling package. You pulled the envelope out and peered inside before showing Loki the sight of a small pistol. He nodded and took it from you carefully, then concealed it in some unknown magical space close to him.

You closed the safe carefully and then your gloves disappeared. Moving quietly back to the door, you listened for several moments to make sure no one was coming. Then, you both slid out and began walking down the hall like a loving couple.

Suddenly, a guard appeared at the end of the hallway. Thinking fast, you opened the closest door to you and pushed Loki inside. There was a shout you vaguely heard before you shut and locked the door again.

"Shit," you hissed. You were in someone's bedroom. Or maybe it was a guest room, considering how clean and un-lived-in it looked. There was a fireplace, like in the office, and a large four-poster bed against one wall. In the middle of the room were two plush couches that faced each other and were side-on to the door. You two walked over to them to get the vantage of being in the centre of the room and quickly searched for an exit.

"I'll cast an illusion," Loki whispered, ready to wave his hands and make it look as if you two weren't here.

"No!" You whispered, eyes wide. "They already saw us come in here. If we disappear, they'll know something's up and lock the place down."

"Then what do you propose?" He held his hands out, annoyingly unbothered by the prospect of blowing a mission. The doorknob twisted and you both snapped your heads towards it, then back at each other.

"Sit," you hissed and shoved him back onto the sofa right behind him. He stumbled and fell with a small indignant noise of surprise. You heard the tinkling of keys and your heart beat in your chest.

"Agent?"

Knowing the security team was about to enter, you acted fast. "I'll never hear the end of this," you mumbled before sliding forward to straddle his lap. His eyebrows shot up his forehead as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and looked at him with nervous urgency. "Kiss me."

Loki didn't question it, and he certainly didn't need to be told twice. His hands found their place. One at the small of your back, one firmly gripping the hair at the nape of your neck. Then, he pulled you in for a fiery kiss.

You barely heard the door open as you lost yourself in the strength of his hold, the steady and eager grasp with which he held you. His hands found their places as if they'd been there a thousand times before, as if he knew exactly how you'd feel the safest, feel the most desired. You pulled him deeper by the back of his neck and could have sworn he made a small noise of satisfaction.

Oh no.

He kept kissing you, you kept kissing him, even after the head of the security team had cleared his throat a number of times. As much as you knew you'd already sold it, and boy you sold it well, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. Were all Asgardians this good at kissing, or was it just Loki?

Oh. No.

"HEY!"

The sudden loud command pulled you away and, much to your internal mortification, you didn't need to feign how flustered you were.

"O-oh my," you squeaked and looked up at the man, blushing profusely.

Okay, the squeak was fake, but it felt almost real.

You stayed put where you were straddling Loki's lap and grimaced when you saw Natasha, still in character, entering the room. "What's going on, I need you downstairs to- oh!" She looked a little taken aback by your position atop the prince who, you were fuming to see from the corner of your eye, had the audacity to be smirking.

"My apologies," Loki drawled in his growly regal voice, trailing his hands around to your sides. "I simply couldn't control myself, seeing my queen in this dress..." He punctuated it with an "Mmph" and a firm squeeze at your hips. You flinched and squirmed a bit under the ticklish touch, trying to keep your composure but letting a small giggle slip out. Then, catching the pleased and mischievous glint in his eye, you dug your nails into the back of his shoulder to warn him off trying that again.

"This room's off limits," the guard tilted his head towards the door and you made to move your way off of Loki's lap. Instead, with his incredible strength, he stood with his hands still at your hips, lifting you to your feet before turning and wrapping an arm around your waist.

He looked the guard up and down, "Of course, good sir." You bit your lip and blushed, cowering in Loki's hold as you exited the room together. Nat smirked at you and winked before proceeding to fall back into character and tell the guards there was a belligerent drunk man downstairs needing to be kicked out. That man would be Wilson, who was playing his part as tipsy distraction.

Loki led you down the hall and you rounded a corner, then you broke off from him and held a hand to your chest. "That was too close," you breathed deeply once, then met his eye. You glared when he saw him smirking at you.

"Do I have lipstick on my face?" He asked, feigning worry.

"Oh, shut up," you swatted his shoulder. "I did what I had to do."

"I never knew you had the passion in you, Agent," Loki smirked again. You glared once more and peeked around the corner, only to jump and hold in a yelp as Loki's pinching fingers found your hip. "I also never knew you were so ticklish."

"That's not something people advertise- cut it ouhout!" You swatted his hand and squirmed away from him as he prodded his fingers into your side. "We have the gun, let's get out of here."

"Tsk, you're no fun," Loki scoffed.

You exited the party and made your way down the block towards the van, knowing that Nat's glasses had broadcast at least the last part of your little tussle with Loki. Steeling yourself as you gripped the handle, you reminded yourself that you were a professional, and this was sometimes a hazard of the job. You needed to play it cool when the eventual teasing came.

"Hey, lovebirds," Tony quipped the second he saw your faces.

"Hey," you chuckled, stepping inside and removing your heels the second you found your seat. "We got it."

"Here," Loki closed the door behind him and pulled the enveloped gun from the magical space he'd hidden it. "So you saw the Agent's display of passion, did you?"

"You wound me, Loki," you deadpanned. "I thought we had a mutual connection."

Perhaps those words were a mistake considering all the truth behind them. However, all the best lies were founded on truth, and for now you needed to convince everyone in the van that you weren't totally freaking out because you'd felt the most passionate attraction you'd had in years with a former villain. I mean... how predictable.

Loki looked at you suspiciously as he took his seat, but something in his gaze told you he wasn't going to prod deeper on this. Not right now, at least. Not in front of everyone.

Nat and Sam joined the fray five minutes later and you all got a move-on back to the Compound. Nat poked more fun at the position she'd found you two in, and you laughed good-naturedly at all their jokes. Loki was uncharacteristically silent, and seemed to always be looking at you when you laughed and instinctively checked to see if he was laughing too.

The jokes shifted to Sam and the wine he spilled down his shirt, then the conversation shifted to the next steps of what to do with the gun, then you all arrived back.

Tony got to work dismantling his rig, declining your help, and so you took your field weapons over to the cabinet to put them back in their places. As you were unclipping the magazine from your pistol, you felt a presence behind the door. You peered around to see Loki.

"What's up?" You raised your eyebrows and snapped the case shut, then closed the door.

He looked at you meaningfully, quizzically, but didn't say anything.

"Okay..." you chuckled uncomfortably and put the latch on the door in place. "I'm going to shower."

You made to walk past him but he grabbed your upper arm, stopping you by his side. Facing different ways, he leaned in a little closer and spoke quietly. "I can spot a lie from lightyears away."

Turning to look at him, you'd probably have been caught off-guard by how close his face was if it hadn't been for the events of earlier. You shrugged, pulling your arm from his grasp. "I didn't lie."

He scoffed and also turned to look at you, eyes flitting once down to your lips, then back up to pierce your gaze with his. "You know what I meant."

You were proud of how composed you kept yourself when you shrugged again and kept walking, swallowing hard.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Never one to waste water, you took an uncharacteristically long shower. Haphazardly smearing face wash over your skin to scrub the makeup off, scrub away the flustered energy. But no amount of scrubbing could help you forget the feeling of his kiss, and shampooing the hairspray from your head only made you remember the feeling of his fingers in your hair.

You reminded yourself that it had been a very long time since you'd kissed someone. You were probably just desperate, definitely a little touch-starved in general, so the fact that it was Loki didn't matter as much as the fact that it had happened.

That's what you told yourself over and over as you threw on sweatpants and a soft long-sleeved shirt. It was cold and the marble floors could be unforgiving, so you thought it best to go for fluffy socks, but then pulled some slippered boots over the top. You didn't bother brushing your wet hair, letting it fall where it wanted as you made your way to the kitchen.

"That smells good," you commented as Nat pulled some dish out of the oven.

"Mmm," she agreed with an excited smile. "Nico is my favourite," she admitted slyly, referring to one of the chefs Pepper would call in to prepare a bunch of heatable meals during busy periods. Delivery app drivers would probably cancel the order if you tried, thinking it must be a joke that a super solider was asking for a Big Mac to be delivered to the Avengers Compound. Besides, by the time it was scanned and made sure to not contain a deadly poison, it would be cold and stale. "There's enough for you too," Nat said, pulling out another plate and serving you a steaming slice of vegetarian lasagne.

"Thanks," you smiled, still a little distracted. Of course, with someone as perceptive as Nat, that wouldn't be allowed to slip by.

She leaned against the counter and poked at her meal, not meeting your eye to keep it less direct. "You alright?"

"Hmm?" You looked up, and so did she, then you looked back down to your food and shrugged. It was no use lying to her. "I think I'm lonely," you laughed humourlessly, nervously, sadly.

"The kiss got to you," she said knowingly, placing her fork down to give you her full attention. You didn't return the favour, nervous about what you'd say if you were really talking about this. Which, as long as you were here eating dinner, you weren't really talking about it.

"It's not like I haven't kissed a fellow Agent before to keep cover," you sighed a little, shaking your head. "It's just been a while, I guess, since I've had... anything... or, someone."

"I get that," she nodded, picking up her fork again. You two ate in silence for several moments. "This is really good," she declared through an extra-large mouthful. You chuckled and nodded, swallowing another bite. After several more moments, she said quietly, "It's okay if you felt something."

That made you choke a bit. Noticeably, unfortunately. You shook your head, but didn't deny it. "No. It's not okay."

"Why not?" She asked as if you were crazy.

"It's not okay," you repeated firmly, stabbing your fork again at the lasagna. "It's not."

Before she could attempt to pry for more information, Thor and Loki entered the kitchen together. Great.

"Good evening," Thor beamed a toothless smile.

"There's more in the fridge if you're hungry," you looked up at them in an attempt to not seem as regressed in on yourself as you felt. Thor looked at your plate and nodded in approval, opening the fridge. Then you looked at Loki, fully expecting to see some kind of calculating stare as before, but his expression was soft. He looked you over, probably noticing your out-of-character hunched posture and the way your head hung a little lower than usual, and he gave you a look that was subtly laced with sympathy.

Now that made your blood boil. Who was he to feel sorry for you?

He seemed to notice the way your jaw clenched under his gaze, and opened his mouth to say something but Thor spoke first.

"There's a film Stark wants us all to watch this evening."

Nat chuckled, finishing off her dinner. "You say that like he's showing us training videos. He's just trying to bond the team over some cheesy nineties movie." She looked at you and nodded to your clothes. "You look ready for a movie night."

Before you could explain that you'd rather go to bed, Thor beamed again. "Excellent, then! We'll all be there."

Thor was always kind to you, so you didn't want to disappoint him over something so inconsequential. You smiled warmly at him and nodded. "I'm gonna go claim a good spot," you excused yourself, aware it was almost time for it to start. You quickly did your dishes and left the kitchen, making sure to get a seat on a large armchair so you made it clear you'd rather have some personal space right now, even though it was the exact opposite of what you wanted. Maybe it would be good for you though, to remember that you were alone for a reason. That this life you chose wasn't kind too love.

Gods, love. Why did you think of that word, of all the ones out there. You were spiralling. Sentiment, you corrected yourself with a swift reprimand. Sentiment, loneliness, desperation.

You busied yourself chatting to Wanda as people filtered in, taking note of how she seamlessly wove herself in and around Vision as they sat on a two-seater next to you. Determined not to look at or think of Loki or romance or kissing or anything like that, you trained your eyes on the screen as the movie started.

But you spiralled.

There were these two main characters in the movie with this undeniable bickering co-worker chemistry that reminded you of Loki, the jokes he’d whisper into your ear during meetings, the harmless mischief he’d pull to make you laugh, the way his hand felt at your lower back- NO. You couldn’t think about that.

Wanda and Vision were in your line of sight from the corner of your eye and you saw her fingers lace through his, you then saw him place a silent kiss on the crown of her head. Biting down on your tongue, you remembered Nat and Bruce, Pepper and Tony, Thor and Jane, Clint and Laura. All those people who seemed to find love, even temporary love, in the midst of all this madness.

So maybe it wasn’t this life. Maybe it was just… you.

Biting your tongue a little harder, you reminded yourself how powerless you were compared to all these super-people. Sure, many of them were human like you, but all the other humans seemed to have someone who loved them.

It felt hopeless, knowing the only person in this room who you wanted close was so extraordinarily out of your league. He was a god. You were a human. Your life was a flicker compared to his, of course he’d never waste time indulging the likes of you.

But it felt real.

Halfway through the movie you decided you couldn’t sit there and see these buddy-cop characters fall in love. You couldn’t watch Wanda and Vision so enamoured with each other. What you needed was to hit something hard, and then go to sleep. So you excused yourself without a word or a glance at anyone. It was late, anyway. You weren’t even the first one to leave.

A turn of a black-haired form told you that Loki noticed you leaving, but the lack of footsteps behind you as you walked down the silent hall told you that he hadn’t followed you.

Slipping into your room and then into some workout clothes, you jammed your headphones into your ears and put on some classical music; you weren't sure you could stand to hear any words right now. You laced your shoes a little tighter than normal and practically sprinted to the gym, very unwilling to have anyone notice you were gone and decide to come check on you.

Hitting the bag felt good. It was the perfect consolation prize for what you'd actually prefer right now, but with every crushing of your knuckles against the thick canvas you found it easier to forget how it felt to have your fingers looped through his hair. The sweat dripping down your face replaced the feeling of his breath against your skin when you'd broken the kiss, and the aching in your obliques from your tensing and turning to hit the bag took the place of any memory of his hands at your waist. The aching was here, and he was almost gone.

After a half-hour of interval sprints, it was just past midnight and you were exhausted. Not knowing how you felt about no one coming to check on you, you traipsed back to your room in silence. The faint echoing of your footsteps through the hallways made you quiet yourself further, stepping as lightly as you could to prove to yourself that you were still a good spy. Good spies don't get caught up with feelings. Your footsteps fell, dead quiet, and you regained some confidence.

Your muscles stung the next morning but in a delightful way. You'd treated yourself to another hot shower when you got back to your room, so this morning it would probably be best to have an icy one.

As the cold water hit your skin, you felt okay again. The boxing and running last night had really shaken everything out of you, only the smallest lingering of lonely desire remained and it could easily be ignored. Of course, that was easy to say. The second you walked into the kitchen to see that Loki had heard you coming and poured you a coffee you felt a tug at your chest.

His hands closed around the mug to pass it to you and you remembered how his fingers had closed around your waist. He smiled good morning and you remembered how his lips felt against yours. Holding it all in, you smiled and took the coffee, then proceeded to have a short conversation with him like a normal person would. He made jokes about last night, but not about that, and you chuckled at them. After perhaps too short a time for how long you usually chatted, you excused yourself to go do some paperwork. You caught the way his brow furrowed a little, but he didn't question you.

The next few days were more or less like this. You'd try to engage with Loki normally but spiral a little more, convincing yourself that the more you continued like you always had, the more normal things would be again. But he was just so... beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful and now you couldn't help but notice.

One evening, nearly a week after you'd kissed, you were having a bit of a vulnerable day and you walked into the kitchen for some ice cream. Loki had just finished cleaning up after his dinner and turned to say hello, but you couldn't do it. You just turned and walked right back out again. He called after you but you didn't stop. It's not like you were going to cry in front of him, but you just couldn't do this right now.

Seeking refuge in your bedroom, you shut the door and slid down to the floor with your back against it. An immediate soft knock frustrated you, especially knowing who it probably was. You sighed and stood.

“Hey,” you greeted Loki with a nod when you opened the door, immediately turning away to make it look like you were about to do something else. “What’s up?”

Loki stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, which made you stop and give him your attention. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied.

He squinted for the faintest second and smiled a little sadly. “Light years,” he reminded you how he could spot a lie without harshly calling you out. It pained you that he didn’t. That his lack of sarcasm indicated that he saw you as a bit fragile right now.

You sighed a little and ducked your head to the side, conceding the point. “I’m a little haywire,” you admitted. “I think I need to get some stress out and go to sleep.”

”What troubles you?”

Ah. What a question.

You didn’t want to shut him out, but you certainly didn’t know how to explain that one simple kiss undercover had brought a massive crashing wave of insecurity and anxiety that made you feel completely unlovable. Or... maybe you could just say that?

You were silent for so long that Loki spoke again.

“I’d like to offer my apologies,” he said very diplomatically. “If I overstepped the bounds of our relationship.”

“I’m the one that made you kiss me,” you winced. “I should be apologising.”

”I didn’t mean that,” Loki shook his head. “I meant after, when we returned. When I cornered you.”

You had to laugh. “You didn’t corner me, Loki. I appreciate you wanting to make me feel better but you have nothing to apologise for.”

”Very well. But you didn’t make me,” he replied firmly.

“I know, I know…” you rolled your eyes. “A god submits to no one, I just meant that I put you in a situation that I shouldn’t have. Believe me, I’m paying the price.”

That last part came out a little faster than you’d intended it to. In fact, you didn’t really mean to say that last part out loud at all. Or maybe you did. What a perfect Freudian Slip. Quickly collecting yourself, you spotted your headphones and went to pick them up but noticed that Loki was taking slow steps towards you.

”Paying the price?” He asked carefully. You stopped and folded your arms, shrugging.

“People poke fun, you know.” You bit your tongue. Then, you saw him smirk a little. Ah. Lightyears.

“I thought we had a mutual connection,“ he raised his eyebrows, teasing you with your joke from That Night. You gave him a firm stare, but couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t that far away now.

“Loki, that was-“

“A thinly veiled truth,” he interjected, leaving no room for debate. He also left very little room between the two of you. You opened your mouth to respond, seemed to not be able to, and he smirked at your speechlessness.

"Y-you can't." You shook your head. "There's no way."

"There's no way, what?" A smiled tugged at his lips at the way your eyes widened when he took a strand of your hair and wrapped it once around his finger.

"... Mutual?"

“Now that we won’t be interrupted…” he brought his hand up next to his face, flourished it, and you heard your door’s lock click shut. You held your breath as a mischievous grin graced his lips.

Oh gods, you were looking at his lips. You couldn't seem to look away.

He lowered his voice to a gruff whisper. “Might we finish what we started?”

With the smallest nod of your head, he immediately ducked his head to press his lips against yours. Your small noise of surprise made him pull away for a second and grin, before he playfully growled and lifted you from the ground. His eyes stayed trained on yours as he walked a few steps and firmly shoved your back against the wall. Your breath hitched as his hand found that place at the back of your neck, and this time, you kissed him. Eagerly, hungrily, feeling so overwhelmingly euphoric that this was even happening.

It had to be a dream, you thought as his lips trailed along your jawline, his hot breath hit your neck and his strong unwavering arms kept you above the ground and level with his gaze. He kissed you not just like a god or a great lover - he kissed you like he wanted you. Like he‘d also been waiting to do this for an unspeakable amount of time. It felt like relief.

Pulling you both back from the wall, Loki's lips didn’t relent as your fingers tangled once again in his hair. He walked backwards and found his seat on the end of your bed, sitting with you in his lap as he had at the party.

“Gods, you enrapture me,“ he pulled away, a little breathless. He grinned and his eyes were hazy. He looked at you intensely before looking back at your lips, subconsciously slipping out his tongue to wet his own. Before you could respond, he was kissing you again. You could have melted into his touch. In fact, you were fairly certain you just might.

He leaned back and you both fell onto the bed, you on top of him. You laughed at the sudden impact and you pulled away for a few seconds to catch your breath. You looked at his adoring gaze and blushed. “I never thought someone like you could want someone like me.”

He furrowed his brow, unsure if you were about to reference his nefarious past.

”You’re so… mighty. You’re a Prince, a god, you’re wickedly smart and powerful and… and I’m just a human.”

“Watch your tongue,” Loki scolded somewhat seriously and held you a little tighter. “Don’t speak of yourself as if you’re insignificant.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, giving him a look. “You know what I mean.”

“Of course I do, I’m wickedly smart,” he smirked and you playfully swatted at his chest. He smiled contentedly and ran his hands firmly down your sides to settle at your hips. It was an innocent romantic gesture, one to position you for further making-out with Loki, but your eyes widened at the memory of his discovery the previous weekend and the assumption that the God of Mischief was about to turn the tables.

Unluckily for you, your flustered expression rendered it a self-fulfilling prophesy.

“Loki…” You warned as you saw the glint in his eye.

“That’s right…” His smirk widened to a devilish grin.

”How about you keep kissing me, huh?” You laughed nervously and leaned in closer. Loki laughed and nodded, bringing his hand up to cradle the back of your neck as you pressed your lips to his. Once your arms were around his neck, he deepened the kiss and rolled over, putting you underneath him. Still on the edge of the bed, your feet barely skimmed the floor. Then, he suddenly became the classic Loki you knew.

“Mmmhmhm!” You whined and giggled a little into the kiss as the fingers belonging to his arm around your waist started ever so gently scratching at your side. “Mmnnoho!” You broke away and gave him a pouting look. He lifted his head and smirked.

Gods. He’d never looked so unspeakably hot.

Messy curls framing his face, that look he gave you that said You’re In Trouble in his distinct Loki way, mixed with the desire in his piercing blue eyes; you’d gladly endure his torture if it meant he looked at you like that.

But maybe that’s because you had no idea what was coming.

“Darling,” he cocked his head and kissed your cheek before kissing just below your ear. “I am the God of Mischief….“ he kissed your neck in a way that you were sure was intended to tickle. You giggled and bit your lip. “And now that I've got my hands on you, you simply cannot expect me to not exploit this little weakness to its fullest extent.”

“L-Loki!” You blushed at the very real threat and he chuckled.

“How about you guide me, hmm? Where should I start?”

“I’m not playing this game,” you laughed nervously, squirming a bit underneath him and resting your hands on his shoulders to push away the ticklish kisses.

“Aw, come now,” he lifted his head and that same beautiful smirk made your heart beat quick. His hand behind your neck slid down under your shoulder blade until it sat at your upper ribs. You stole a glance down to where it may be, even though you couldn’t see it. He cocked his head again. “No? Alright, I’ll choose.” With a wink his thumb slipped around the side and up into the hollow under your arm.

“LOKI!” You gasped, clamped your arm down from instinct and immediately started squirming and giggling, even though his thumb wasn’t even moving. He grinned again and kissed your lips once more.

“You've been down all week, love. Let's have a bit of fun,” he whispered, then sprang his hand at your waist into action, scratching and grabbing at the soft skin hidden beneath your shirt. You gasped again and started laughing softly, then squeaked when his thumb started wiggling into the hollow under your arm.

"NOHOHO!" You shut your eyes and then squealed loudly when his fingers underneath you began clawing into the back of your uppermost ribs. Damnit, you thought he may start easy on you, not go for three different places at once. You were already in a desperate cackle, bubbling incoherent pleas spilling from your lips as you writhed underneath his amused self.

"I'm honestly delighted you're so ticklish," Loki teased with a chuckle. "It's adorable, really. So professional all the time, yet..." He finished his sentence by intensifying his touch and speed at all three sites of attack, drawing a small shriek from your laughing lips and a jolt from your body. "Has it always been this easy to undo you?"

“OHMYGOHOD!” You shrieked, throwing your head against the bed and trying to buck your upper body against him to no avail. He paused his torture and kissed you deeply again, lips curled into a smile as he pressed his lips to yours. You shook your head and broke away, still laughing. “Youhou’re ridiculous! We were hahaving such a nice moment and y-you ruined ihit,” you whimpered. He kissed to again to silence your complaints.

“What did you expect?”

“I-I expected a nice romantic moment!” You laughed and brought both arms between you and him to shove at his shoulders. “Now,” you gave him a stern look. “Do you want to tickle me, or kiss me? You can only choose one.”

He scoffed. “I don’t do ultimatums, darling.”

“You do now.”

“Bold.“ He stuck his tongue against his cheek then ducked his head to the side in consideration. He then looked at your face, which you’d been attempting to hold in some semblance of a firm glare. He lowered his lips to your ear and you heard him chuckle once. “Far too bold for someone so ticklish.”

He whipped his arms out from under you and pressed his weight down again, trapping your arms between your bodies as he clawed into the front and sides of your lowest ribs.

“NOHOAHAH!” You immediately fell into desperate belly-laughter as his fingers drilled and clawed into the spaces between your bones. Your feet kicked helplessly, merely grazing the ground as laughter kept spilling from you. “NOHO! NO! LOKIHI I CAHAN’T!” He shifted his hands further up your ribcage and snuck his fingers around to dig in at the back and, after one more shriek, your laughter went silent. It was trapped in your chest as his squeezing and vibrating fingers found every sensitive space on your ribs that made you want to melt into a little puddle. You were gasping for air by the time he halted his attack, squeaking and wheezing as you tried to regain your breath.

It was torture, but you hoped he wouldn’t ask you if it was worth enduring to have him this close. If he could spot a lie from lightyears away, how much easier could he spot it when he was close enough for you to see the flecks of green in his eyes.

”You’re… you’re gonna kill me,” you hiccoughed. He smirked and leaned in for another kiss. “Nuh-uh,” you pulled your finger up as much as you could from where your arms were trapped. “You made your choice.”

He grinned and slid his hands down your sides with a wink, "Oh? Then I'll gladly continue."

"W-w-wait! I dihidn't th-WAHAIT!"

His thumbs drilled relentlessly into your hips as Loki joined in with your loud laughter. You finally managed to wiggle your arms out from where they were trapped at your chest, shooting them down to grab at his fingers. Your feet having no traction and his near entire weight pressing you to the bed made it impossible to buck or lift any part of your torso, so you were completely trapped with nowhere to go as he gripped and grabbed at the skin of your hips, kneading at the pressure points that made you squeak and squirm beneath him.

When he tired of your fingers trying to grab his, he did a devilish swift lift of his own body and slotted his hands between the two of you, settling them palms-down over the majority of your belly. You made a huge gasping noise and started frantically giggling and squealing even before he'd moved his hands. You shook your head and begged for him to kiss you instead, nervous high-pitched giggles interlacing your words.

"N-noho, Loki just kihiss me, kiss me plehease! PLEASE!" You squeaked, cupping his cheeks and gently pulling him towards you. He chuckled and grinned, gently digging a few fingers in just once. You thrashed and renewed your struggling and squealing efforts. "Dohon't you DAHARE! I won't kiss you agahain if you do this!" You threatened. He cocked his head and leaned in a little closer to look deep into your eyes. Then, he grinned and whispered:

"Lightyears."

You thought for certain you'd pass out from laughter when Loki's fingers sprang into action and rippled against your hypersensitive stomach. You laughed loudly, completely powerless to stop his fingers from digging in wherever they pleased. After not much time at all, your laughter went silent and you weakly batted at his shoulders, sides, face, anything your hands could find for themselves since your eyes were shut so tight. Any words your brain even began to think of forming got lost as laughter ripped through your chest from the electric intensity of his fingers against your body.

When your hands finally found both sides of his face, you used all the energy you had left to press your laughing lips against his and, finally, he relented. You fell back with a loud gasp as he retracted his hands with an amused chuckle and took his weight mostly off you, propping himself up with a hand planted either side of your head.

"Alright there, darling?" He teased as you coughed weakly and wiped the tears of mirth from your cheeks. You gave him a scowl, but he found it adorable.

"Thihis isn't fair," you crossed your arms defiantly.

"No?" He smirked. "Pray tell, my love. What isn't fair?"

Oh. My love. His love.

That took any breath you'd managed to get back in your lungs.

"Y-you... you..." But your words were lost in the bliss of being his. He seemed to quickly understand how his words touched your heart, and it softened his teasing demeanour, and softened his smirk into a smile. "You found my worst spots so soon," you managed to murmur through rosy cheeks.

"Was only a matter of time."

"But now you have the upper hand."

"Dear heart, this isn't a struggle for power," he laughed heartily. "I do not seek to rule over you. Anything you ask of me, anything in the Nine Realms, I will give to you."

"Tell me where you're ticklish."

He chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before falling down beside you. He hummed in contentment as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you as close as you could be.

"Anything but that."

[myclownjunction]

Turning tables! Karl Heisenberg x Reader that can shapeshift into animals

*He stalks you first to scare you to death and then trying to kill you, he loves to chase you around the factory seeing and hearing your pants and yelps you're just a simply scared girl, right?

*WRONG!

*You walked around in the big stuffy factory creepy feeling that someone watches every step you take and look around your instincts scream at you to change so you do turning into a rat

*Karl Heisenberg comes out awaiting you on the top stairs but sees nothing that leaves him dumb folded, he looks over the perimeter, he can't see where the hell did you go, you were here he saw you on the camera!!

*WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GO? AND WHAT THE HELL DID HAPPEN IN THESE FEW MINUTES!!!

*Him confused so much that he starts to turn everything upside-down, scraps and metal parts flying around he is so confused and angry, where is HIS PLAYTHING? Did the loneliness make him see things? No, it can't be! You were running around and dodging the soldats right and left!!!

*You, on the other hand, hold yourself not to blow your undercover the whole situation reminds you of an angry puppy that can't find its favorite toy to play with, and that highly amuses you as you squeak as a metal part flying nearby hits you and him muttering something about "Filthy rascals!"

*He moves around again as you try to skedaddle your way out of the hallway to the hole near the metal doo, where he came from, and into the next room to get away from his attention, as you head bangs and objects being thrown from behind the door he says "Come on, doll you can't hide forever right?!" ohh yes you can!

*He's angry now as you feel something strong being smashed, probably by his hammer. The man wants to play. BUT.WHERE.ARE.YOU.HIDING?

*You need to shape-shift again and at the very moment you turn back at your normal self, a damn Soldat wobbles into the room, making you groan as you hear Karl's laughter and him saying "Now I know where are you darlin'!" as you hear him walking closer so and the Soldat does you're angry as you transform into a rather huge bull and gore the poor idiot even before he has a chance

*Heisenberg barges through the door as he says loudly with excitement "FOUND YOU, LITTLE RED RIDING HO-..." He freezes as he looks at the blood-covered bull and the dead Soldat he's so damn confused "What the actual FUCK is going on here..is it some kind of damn rodeo or somethin'?" his presence makes you snort and bolt from your spot.

*His done with the surprise "I guess it's time for a good ole ride, eh?" he smiles and walks through the secret passage making it in front of you as you hit the breaks before crashing into him, he chuckles and smiles winking at you "Gonna give me a ride there, buddy?" 

*You smile too, making the playful attitude of the man in front of you to confused, even more, "Wha-?" he could not finish the sentence as you shapeshift into a dog or more specifically into a German Shephard 

*He's stunned... No really how in the name of the hellish hell did you turn into a dog! Well, he guesses there's only one way to find out. Chase it is he knows the factory better than his five fingers as he walks through passages and tries to find your source through the CCTV cameras

*Silence as you run around trying to find a way out. Heisenberg, on the other hand, enjoys the chase it makes him hungry for more, he wants you for his plan, and guess what...YOU WILL BE PART OF HIS PLAN EVEN IF HE HA TO PUT A MUZZLE ON YOU OR RIDE YOU INTO OBLIVION!!!!

*Let the chase begin, you fast him-faster, you clever him the-cleverest, you hide, he seeks and hell being on his territory it's a losing game for you since the very beginning 

* But he didn't expect you to change forms so fast."YOU LITTLE-!" he snarls in his deep gruff voice already losing patience. He decided to try a more narrow hole. BIG MISTAKE! HUGE!

*He's stuck, so stuck, you come close to him in your dog form, breathing heavily as your tongue sticks out to cool your running session from him, letting your guard down...NOW IT WAS YOUR GRAND MISTAKE

* "Okay let's face it, you are the owner of the factory. If I help you out and chase away trespassers and might even help you around the factory that you'll never hurt me! Is that a de-" you try to finish as a chain wraps around your neck as Heisenberg laughs and walks out the much larger hole now and looks down at you smirking, you think you're dead...........

*He thinks of the pros and the cons, then slowly nods his head as he squats and looks at you letting his hand towards you carefully "I think of you're loyal to me and obedient pup, we'll get along...what do you think?"

*You, on the other hand, pull away as he squints at you, you look at the chain, then at him and he chuckles "You might bite me, I'm not a fool...prove that you won't pup!!".

*He waits as he looks at you and you take one step close to him, ears up and nose sniffing his glove, as you take his scent in and come closer as he lets his hand on your head petting you slowly and scratching behind your ears

* You feel his warm hand as he pets you and now you understand why dogs love to receive rubs and scratches...it's a heavenly feeling you bark happily wagging your tail earning a chuckle from him

*Since then you work together as you help him around, catching rats, helping him carrying heavy things and him taking good care of you and protect you IF YOU DARE TO CALL YOURSELF A MONSTER...Just you dare to! "Darlin' you wanna me to show you how the real monster looks like!?" you blush at his comment he chuckles and says "I mean I could show you this monster too darling, it doesn't bite !" he winks and laughs as you blush and squeal his name in embarrassment

*Karl is surprised one time when you turn into a mare and proceed to give him a ride, he's frantic as a little child could be, he feels happy and free in that moment, careless as one time he had been, he so grateful to you for this amazing moment

*Oh HIM, POSSESSIVE OF YOU, he doesn't ket lycans near you and any other monster, FORBID the other Lords to look at you HE PROTEC, he ATTAC,

 *Even if you don't know it yet, you got his attention and now there's no way out of this he gave you his trust, and his trust is a very, very hard thing to win

*You're his, and he's yours and this will be till the last breath of both of you!!

*Loves to watch how you hunt people in your many forms, helping him out in the factory and with trespassers, he ADORES your puppy form, he would coo and hug you all day, he adores just holding you close and playing with you, as you help him in the workshop, he would practically shove the bad mood in the hind and enjoy his time with you, this man is a mush when you're in your puppy form.

*He'll buy puppy things from the Duke to drees you and make you look cute, you wear the collar he gifted you even in human form, showing him how deep you care for him ;)

*You CAN TURN INTO A DRAGON...he's lovestruck, he loves to fly with you as he enjoys the freedom, the views but most important his time with you, if you shed a scale or teeth he'll make a trinket from it and wear it with his other necklaces. You love to see him coo over you as you're blowing the fire to mend some metals together it's hot, I MEAN REAAAALLLY HOT!

[lokislastlove]

Come One, Come All (dark!Loki x reader)

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, knife play, oral (m&f), smut, bondage, kidnapping.

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: I wrote another one! No idea where this came from, but it was fun to write. Still working on improving my smut, huge thanks to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for some tips and editing the shit out of it. 😘 also I know there is a creepy clown in the pic but I feel like I have to say there aren’t any clowns in the fic. I hate clowns.

Chapter 1:

It was the kind of summer night you dream about, warm enough to keep you comfortable in your shorts and peasant top, but with a light breeze that keeps you cool enough to fight the flush of alcohol in your veins. You look forward to these moments when you are able to go out with your girlfriends and let loose, forgetting about all life’s responsibilities, if just for a single night.

“Come on!” Ash calls over her shoulder, her hand tight around your wrist pulling you impatiently.

“Aww but that looks so good” you groan as you press your face longingly against the glass barrier of the hand dipped corn dog cart.

The sweet scent of the frying corn dough wafts tantalizingly through the air making your mouth water. You friends laugh at your theatrics, having just helped you scarf down a large sugary funnel cake and a platter of nachos, the evidence of which still stains the corner of your mouth. Really, it was their fault for getting you tipsy before taking you to the county fair, everything just smelled heavenly and if you could you would try one of everything.

“Just a slushee?!” You beg as Jen steps behind you and pushes you out of the food court, giggling the entire time.

“Come on, fight the drunchies! You promised you would try that new funhouse,” Jen whines, looping her arm through yours, Ash doing the same on the other side.

“Oh yeah,” you grumble.

“Oh stop it” Ash scolds playfully. “Everyone at work keeps talking about it - it’s like a mini escape room! And I’ve always wanted to do one, please.” She rants excitedly before giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh that’s cheating. No one can resist those big brown eyes” you pout, but yield as easily as they knew you would.

“I know” Ash smirks, tossing back her long silky black hair over her slender shoulder.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I promise” Jen bumps your hip, giving you a wide encouraging smile.

You manage a strained grin as you let them lead you through the crowd. It’s not that you don’t like funhouses or the idea of doing an escape room, having always loved solving riddles and doing puzzles. It’s just you don’t like clowns, and every funhouse in your experience has at least one.

“Oh damn there’s a line!” Jen moans as you all stop in front of a large structure covered in flashing lights, the ominous ‘Tricksters Trap’ bathing your face in a violent red glow.

Garish contrasting colors somehow both attract your eye and make it hard to look at. Your pupils dilate with the lines of fluorescent bulbs burning into your retinas. The stereotypical circus music blares through the cheap speakers, reminding you of one of those old Jack in the box toys. And of course, without fail, was the obligatory clown statue hanging over the entrance, like some creepy sentinel there to guide you to your inevitable demise.

“Ugh fucking clowns” you grimace as you pass by the entrance, heading toward the end of the line.

“Yeah they definitely nailed the creep factor,” Jen agrees, her eyes shining with nervous excitement.

“I know isn’t it great?!” Ash squeals.

You stand there taking in the horrific detailing painted on the side of the metal structure. You are thankful when Ash explains there is a time limit, only ten minutes to complete the puzzle or else they kick you out and you have to try again. If you figure out the puzzle you get to leave through the mirror maze and you earn the coveted “I tricked the Trickster” sticker.

“Gotta get that sticker, or else that bitch Katie at work will never let me forget that she got one and I didn’t” Ash complains, causing you and Jen to share a look and snicker.

“Hey! Don’t laugh, this is serious! We gotta be smart and figure this out, failure is not an option” she urges dramatically before collapsing into drunken giggles with you and Jen.

“You ladies seem eager to prove yourselves,” slithers a low voice.

Startled you gasp and spin around quickly. The three of you look up at the tall lean figure standing behind you. He wears a perfectly tailored black ensemble, that matches the color of his slicked back hair. His eyes practically glow green against his alabaster complexion. His sharp cheekbones and angular jaw make your breath hitch, causing his thin lips to curve into a sinister smirk. He is stunning.

“Um, yeah. Well this place has the whole town buzzin’. Seems like everyone is talking about it” Jen is the first to speak.

“Ah I see. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to take a stab at it” the mysterious man surmised, eyes focused on you.

“We got this shit. Right guys?” Ash assures him as she playfully smacks you and Jen.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out. Good luck,” he challenges with a raise of a brow.

You stare after him as he saunters away without another word. His hips and shoulders sway smoothly, his soft footsteps giving him a dangerous almost feline vibe, like he could rival even the most deadly of predators. As he turns to round the corner of the ride he takes one last look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes lock for only a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

“That was weird, right?” You mutter, eyes still transfixed where he disappeared.

“Eh, just another creepy dude. If I had a nickel for every weirdo who tries to chat me up…” Jen jokes.

“You’d have like a whole 50 cents,” sasses Ash.

You are finally broken from your daze when Ash is pushed into you. You laugh and try to brush off the lingering effect of the handsome stranger, shifting your focus back to your friends. The line goes by quicker than expected, with only one group out of the three ahead of you making it out with stickers. The losing groups return to the line from a back door, bickering about where they went wrong.

Finally it is your turn. Ash claps her hands excitedly, dancing up the metal stairs to the costumed man at the entrance. His red and white stripped suit is expertly torn and painted with fake blood to make him look as intimidating as possible. With a tip of his top hat he welcomes the three of you and begins to explain the rules in his well practiced accent.

“Come one come all to the Tricksters Trap, if you’re feeling lost, just go find the map.” He sings with flair and a perfectly timed bow, directing you to the inauspicious black door.

Taking a deep breath you follow your squealing friends into the darkened hallway. Pausing to look back as the door creaks shut, cutting off the jovial sounds of laughter and chatter with a sudden slam. You flinch at the loud noise and turn back to the dim hallway. The short corridor is lined with wall to wall green velvet curtains barely visible with the green rope lights running along the ceiling.

“Guys?” You whisper when you don’t see them next to you, causing your heart rate to quicken

You call for them again, this time louder, your feet unwilling to move from the spot. It has only been thirty seconds and you are already about to call it quits. Get a grip. You take a hesitant step forward.

“You guys?!” You call shakily.

“Hey! Come on we found the map!” Jen pokes her head from around the corner at the end of the hall.

She disappears just as quickly, waving her arm for you to follow. You breathe a sigh of relief and rush after her. You enter a large room filled with all sorts of random objects. It’s as if it is designed to overload your senses. The green from the hall carried on into the room, more velvet green curtains hung on the walls that were not obstructed by shelves of books or other oddities. You saw everything from perfectly aligned glass jars filled with alien looking creatures, grandfather clocks, to treasure chests overflowing with grizzled toys.

Jen and Ash are hunched over a table with a map spread out smoothly. It was easy enough to see it was a map of the room and hallway, with what appeared to be three small rooms hidden along the wall behind the heavy green drapery. You go over and pull back a curtain and find a locked door, the other two also hiding a locked door.

“Ok so it looks like we gotta find a way to open these doors” you offer, your anxiety calming a bit as you focus on the mystery at hand.

“Hey look there is some sort of code over here by the lock on the door.” Ash hollers excitedly.

You each pick a door code and frantically search the room. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out you need to use the books on the large shelf along one wall. The first number tells you the book the second refers to a specific page. You find a slip of paper in the book with a riddle written in a blood red ink.

“I make two people out of one” You read aloud.

“You can hold me in one hand, but I’m used to fill the room” Ash reads hers, her face twisting in concentration.

You both look to Jen, “I have two hands, but I can’t clap.”

“Damn no wonder so many people failed, definitely wish I wasn’t drunk right now” Ash laughs.

“No no we can do this, it’s probably items in the room so let’s just focus. We’ll do one at a time.” You assert, pacing the room and trying to take in all the random objects.

“Two hands…” you mutter as you stop in front of a large grandfather clock. “Clocks have hands!” You yell excitedly and open the narrow door.

The heavy pendulums swing inside and you see a shining silver glint off the rounded golden end. You pull off the small silver key, stuck on by a tiny magnet, and jump in excitement.

“Holy crap! You’re a genius!” Jen exclaims running over to take the key and try it in the door.

The key slides in smoothly and the door opens with a gratifying click.

“Woo! Keep going, you are on a roll!” Ash claps as she cheers you on.

“Ok, ok” you giggle before taking a deep breath. “Two people out of one… maybe a camera? Or wait…” you realize as you stare at Ash currently checking her makeup in an antique mirror hung between two curtains.

“Ash! Try pulling on that mirror!” You yell pointing frantically at the mirror in front of her.

Her brows knit together briefly before understanding, grabbing the frame and tugging gently until it swings open, revealing a key hung on the wall.

“Yes!” You all shriek together.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and a loud maniacal cackle reverberates through the surround sound speaker, turning your elation into yelps of surprise.

“Two minutes left” a familiar polished voice echoes forebodingly throughout the room.

“Shit, that scared the crap out of me” Jen laughs clutching at her chest.

The warning gives you pause, managing to shift the spirit of the whole room. Ash giggles nervously as she watches the lights of the room transition from their previous dim yellow light to a menacing red hue. The mood lighting in addition to the increasing volume of the horror soundtrack playing over the speaker helps to put you back into your initial anxious state.

“Seriously? Is this fucking necessary?” You curse, shaking your head.

“Ok let’s get the last one guys! We can still do this!” Jen yells through the cacophony of sound effects.

“Yeah what can we fit in our hand but somehow also fills the room?” Ash reiterated the final riddle.

“These red lights make it so much harder to see” Jen complains bitterly as she rummages through the items inside a large chest.

“Lights… Jen that’s it! A lightbulb!” A smile breaks out on your face as you figure out the final clue.

“Look up there!” Ash points to a solitary darkened light bulb screwed into the ceiling.

“I got it.” Jen jumps onto the table and reaches up, unscrewing it quickly. “There is a key inside!” She shouts.

She unscrews the bottom of the fake lightbulb and received the key before handing it to Ash. Each of you run over to the corresponding doors and turn the key, squealing in delight when they all slide open.

“Is that it?” Jen asks looking into the cramped dark space behind the door.

It was little more than a closet. Barely enough room for each of you to stand in. You were at a loss. You could have sworn that would be the end.

“Guys there is a lever here on the back wall of mine, how about yours?” Ash’s muffled voice calls from inside her closet.

“Oh yeah mine too!” Jen replies.

“Do you think we have to pull them at the same time? ‘Cus mine did nothing when I tried it” Ash says poking her head out to look at you.

“Thirty seconds!” That haunting voice booms again as a tick clock sounds through the speakers, counting down your final moments.

“Ok let’s try it together!” You nod at both of them, before stepping into the tight dark space.

“THREE! TWO! ONE!” You shout, mirroring your friends calls, pulling down your lever with a snap.

There is a moment of silence as the lights of the room behind you suddenly go dark, the music and sound effects cutting off instantly.

“Did we get it?!” You yell.

You don’t get the chance to hear your friends response as the wood door slams behind you, locking you into the small space.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

[samplingmoonsters]

What if Techno is like a walking heater cause he's from the Nether and Dream who's naturally cold??

Snow crunches under their feet, warm clouds of fog escaping frozen lips, evaporating quickly in the icy air like ghosts. Endless whiteness surrounds the pair, an empty canvas yearning for a splash of color. But there are no colors for miles, nothing but an abyss of white, except for the red cloak fluttering in the wind like the wings of a newborn bird. Not for the first time, olive green eyes find themself staring at the only interesting color since they started their never-ending journey through the north.

He stares at the broad back of the warrior, well aware of the muscles hidden behind the thick fabric. A hog-like snort escapes his companion as the tall warrior lets out a hot gust of wind. Dream’s tired, freezing body jerks at the loud noise. They haven’t spoken to each other for hours, only Dream’s exhausted breath and the snow crunching under their feet filling the silence around them.

Olive-green eyes widen and he stumbles back, almost falling into the snow, as Techno rams the end of his ax into the snow next to him. They stop in their tracks, finally giving the ex-prisoner’s body a precious second to rest after hours and hours of non-stop walking. Dream’s chest rises and falls in a mix of exhaustion and fear as he stares at Techno’s back. Even after spending weeks in a tiny cell together, building a relationship that doesn’t fit into any category but runs far deeper than simple friendship, Dream’s still gets nervous when he’s confronted with the view of a sharp object. A spike of anxiety settles into his chest, his fear rising the longer he has to look at the damn netherite ax sticking out of the snow.

He trusts Techno more than anyone else on the SMP but it is still hard to let go of old fears even after months of recovering in the Piglin's small cottage. Swallowing, Dream forces his body to relax and instead moves his eyes towards Techno’s face. Anything to distract himself from the weapon still glinting in the corner of his vision like a poisonous snake ready to strike.

At one point, Technoblade has turned towards him, ember eyes staring at the lanky blond, “We should search for a place to rest for tonight.” Techno murmurs before picking his ax back up, swinging it over his shoulder before walking straight towards the line of woods surrounding the snow-covered trail.

“Ah- wait for me!” Dream calls after the other man, small feet stamping through the snow like a newborn fawn who is just learning how to walk from their mother.

Away from the trail, the snow is even higher, reaching Dream’s knees and causing the blond to get stuck on multiple occasions. He has a hard time keeping up with the pink-haired man who doesn’t seem to have any problems navigating through the snowy landscape, his thick leather boots keeping him from sinking into the snow unlike Dream’s pathetic excuse of footwear which can’t even keep his feet decently warm. He can already feel his toes starting to freeze off. If this goes on he won’t have any feet to complain about coming tomorrow morning.

If it weren't for Techno's strong hands pulling him out every now and then Dream would be forever stuck in the middle of the woods.

"Be careful where you are stepping." Techno grunts after pulling Dream out of the snow for what must be the tenth time.

Dream grumbles a curse under his breath, patting the snow from the pants before throwing a dark glare at his companion, "I do! It's not my fault the snow is, like-- ten feet high!" He stomps his feet into the snow, his childish tantrum only resulting in him soaking his pants even more.

Dream could practically hear the other roll his eyes, "Don't be dramatic...it's not that deep." As if to prove his point Techno stomps one foot into the snow. The appendage barely sinks into the snow. But all too soon Techno’s attention is stolen away once more by the distant howls of wolves. The warrior grips his ax tightly, red eyes jumping around the trees, searching for any potential danger while he waits for Dream to stop sulking around so they could start moving forward again.

Dream lets out a huff, seemingly indifferent about the continuing howls. He knows that Techno will keep him safe, so he doesn’t even bother taking out the dagger hidden inside his dark-green coat. It’s not like he would be any good in a fight. Ever since they escaped the prison, Dream quickly realized that his hands would never be able to truly hold weapons of any kind anymore, not with how much they trembled and shook. He’s happy that he could hold a cup of tea without spilling hot liquid everywhere, and hey, he can even hold a spoon without too much of a hitch.

Small progress as Techno would say.

And maybe, with a lot of training and patience, he would even be able to hold an ax again one day.

Though, that dream is rather blurry for now. Let’s rather focus on re-learning how to use a knife and fork for the moment....or Techno would have to help him cut his steak forever and that’s just fucking embarrassing. He already feels like a helpless child 75% of the time when it comes to holding anything.

Which also includes not being able to walk on snow like his companion.

Fucking piglin hybrids and their natural ability to walk over loose ground.

"...that doesn't prove anything. You-you're used to walking through snow." Crossing his arms, Dream glares at a random patch of snow near Techno's left foot. Now that they have stopped moving, Dream can feel the unbearable coldness sinking into his already half-frozen skin. Dream hates to admit it, but he does have a low tolerance when it comes to low temperatures. All his life, he has lived in hotter regions, places where the sun never stops shining all year round, and where hurricanes and heavy storms are a monthly concurrence. But now, he's forced to live in a snowy biome, far away from the sun, where it never stops snowing and the nights are long.

Dream couldn't remember when he last felt truly warm. Even in the safety of Techno's beloved cottage, there's still something cold lingering in his chest, freezing his body from the inside...

Maybe that's just his trauma showing his ugly head... Nevertheless, Dream really missed lying among the flowers, grass tickling his cheeks while he let the sun heat up his body.

And while the prison had been warm, unbearable so, the warmth wasn't the same as the feeling of sun rays on his freckled skin.

Ender, when was the last time he had worn a crop top? Felt like a billion years ago. He couldn't even wear cute outfits in this shitty weather. Fucking Antarctica...

Yearning for an outlet for his building frustration, Dream angrily kicks a small pile of snow, accidentally spraying Techno's face with the powdery substance.

For a second the woods go deathly silent as if the trees themselves could feel the tension rising between the rivals. The two men stare at each other, a silent battle taking place. Techno's narrowed red eyes promise unbearable pain, causing Dream to fidget nervously.

If there is one thing Dream hates more than raw potatoes it's complete silence. He remembers a time when silence didn't bother him. A time when he could linger in his base far underground unbothered by the pure quietness surrounding him, even enjoying it. He was used to being alone, doing his own thing, a lone wolf some would call him, but after the whole prison thing...Dream began to hate the sound of his own voice, the silence that would linger after he screamed his lungs out either from hours of torture or talking nonstop to his own reflection in the lava.

Yeah, he would much rather listen to Techno's monotone voice for hours, all day long, if it means he wouldn't have to listen to his own scrambled thoughts.

"Uh...Tech--"

Before Dream could finish his sentence his feet suddenly left the ground as his tall, lanky body was raised from the snow. The blond squeezed his eyes tightly, expecting to be body slammed into the cold abyss for revenge but instead, he felt a pleasant warmth surrounding him from all sides.

Fluttering his eyes open he's met with the sight of Techno's broad chest. Jerking his head up he stares at the piglin but the other is ignoring him, red eyes stubbornly looking forward as they continue their way through the foggy woods. Green eyes focus on the warm puffs of air escaping Techno's pink lips, the way his sharp tusks glint in the faint light like hidden daggers, and how his red eyes seem to sparkle brighter than the ice crystals littering the ground. This close, Techno's beauty is almost otherworldly.

Truly the God of Bones and Blood.

And now the God is carrying him. Carrying him bridal style while curling his precious red cape around them both.

Dream's cheeks quickly catch on fire at the unexpected turn of events.

Forcing himself to relax, he leans his cheek against Techno's armored chest, almost jerking back in surprise at how warm the other feel even through the thick layer of metal.

Oh Gods, Techno is burning, a steady warmth spilling from him in waves like a dying star. With the cape curled around them, keeping the cold air away and trapping Techno's body heat, Dream feels like he's sitting in a furnace.

A very soft, grumpy furnace.

He almost forgot how warm Techno is. When they were still in prison Dream didn’t really notice Techno’s abnormal body heat. Back then everything, the air, the water, the obsidian blocks, was hot to the touch. Soon Techno’s body heat just turned into another source of heat in the already stuffy cell.

Now, Dream welcomed the warmth.

For what feels like the first time in months, Dream feels the coldness leaves his body.

Letting out a sound that comes close to a purr, Dream leans back against Techno's chest. With his cheek pressed against the other’s armored chest, he can clearly hear Techno's strong heartbeat. The steady sound pulls him into a placid state where each one of his problems and haunting memories leaves his mind for a little while until all he can feel is the vibration of Techno's heart and the strong hands holding him up.

Protecting him.

"Just so you know, if the wolves decide to attack us, I'm throwing you into the snow." Technoblade's monotone voice drifts through the blurry edges of his mind, almost throwing him out of his serene bubble.

Not wanting to leave the peaceful corner of his mind just yet, Dream cuddles deeper into Techno's chest, successfully ignoring the Piglin's warning.

Above him Techno let out a long, tired sigh, yet, the hands around his waist are pressing him closer, a silent promise to shield him from any upcoming danger.

With a small smile on his lips, Dream lets himself sink into the peaceful abyss, the sound of Techno's heartbeat guiding him. He falls asleep to the familiar lullaby of Techno’s heartbeat.

And so, far up in the north where the sun rarely shines and the snow never stops falling, the blond warrior found his own sun to warm up his broken soul.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for weeks! Sorry that it took me so long, dear anon! I hope you like it!

[mandospace]

Allure (Boba Fett x Reader)

Request:  Hi! I love your writing! 🖤 May I request something with jealous Boba? 🙏🏻✨

Requested By: @kat-r-in​

Word Count: 4,224

Warnings: Strong language, jealousy

A/N: Sorry if this kind of sucks :( But maybe you don’t think it sucks, so enjoy, anyways! **gif not mine, credit to the creator!**

MASTERLIST

“If we come in from the side, he won’t suspect a thing.”

“No, that’s too obvious- he’d spot us from a mile away.”

The constant bickering between the two Mandalorians was becoming old, and fast. They were surrounding a table that had maps scattered over it, gloved fingers pointing at different areas. A single puck sat between them, hologram shining the face of the quarry that the two hunters were after. The three of you had tracked the quarry to Canto Bight- one of the richer and more frivolous cities the three of you had ever been. You were positive that he was hiding somewhere in one of the many bars and casinos- the question was which one.

After some light scouting done by the two hunters, the pair determined that the quarry was hiding out in the largest casino that Canto Bight had to offer. Go figure.

The three of you- more accurately the two bounty hunters- were trying to come up with a plan to capture the quarry effectively and as quietly as possible. Drawing attention in a city this big was never good, and the two Mandalorians already stuck out like a sore thumb in their beskar armor. 

“Well we can’t just walk up to the guy,” Boba huffed, thick arms crossing over his chest in exasperation. The bickering was giving you a headache. You tried to tune them out as best as you could but their deep voices seemed to echo in the hull of Slave One. Rubbing your temples for some form of relief, Din spoke up.

“Why not?”

Boba gave Din an annoyed glance through his black visor. His irritation radiated from him in waves. “I don’t really have to explain why that is a stupid idea to you, do I?”

“No,” Din shook his head. “Not us. Her.” He swung his arm out in your general direction, casting the Mandalorians’ gaze on you. You squirmed in your seat at the attention.

“Me?” 

“No.” Boba spoke at the same time you did, voices overlapping. Embarrassment at being called out soon turned to frustration at Boba’s quick dismissal of you. You could feel your metaphorical hackles raise in defense.

“Why not?” Din cut in before you could argue for yourself. “She’s perfect. Put her in a pretty dress and she’d blend in with the wealthiest of the crowd. She could saunter right up to the quarry and seduce him like that.” Din punctuated his sentence with a snap of his fingers. You could feel the blush rising to your cheeks at his suggestion of you seducing someone- you couldn’t do that. “She tempts him out the back door where we will be waiting to get him. It’d be over in an hour.”

Din’s words hung in the air as Boba contemplated the plan before answering with a resounding ‘no.’ Anger flashed hot in your veins.

“I can do it,” you shot a glare at the green helmet before turning to Din’s silver one. “When do we start?”

“I said no.” Boba’s tone was dangerous- the threat very clear. Before Din could argue for you again, you hopped off your crate and stormed up to the older hunter. 

“You don’t get to decide what I do or don’t do,” you jabbed a finger into the green cuirass. Pain radiated through your finger, you forgot just how hard beskar was.

“It’s too dangerous,” Boba grabbed your wrist to push away your hand. Hurt flashed through your eyes at his motion. “You could get hurt.”

“Then one of us will protect her,” Din interjected, disrupting the tense glaring match you and Boba were having. “Follow her from a distance, watch out for any problems. And if she needs us, we’ll be there.”

“I’ll be fine, Boba,” you switched tactics, trying to appeal to his more gentler side. If he even had one. You reached your hand out and rested it on the green beskar covering his chest. This time he didn’t push you away. “Din will step in if anything-”

“I’m going to watch you.” Boba cut you off and settled his gaze on your face. You couldn’t be sure, but you were certain that he was looking you in the eye. “Din will wait out back to catch him. If anything goes wrong, I will step in and protect you, even if it means the quarry gets away. Understand?”

Din spoke his understanding, nodding along to the plan. You were frozen to the floor of the ship, trapped under Boba’s gaze. While his words were meant for Din, you couldn’t help the shiver that ran down your spine. He was willing to give up the bounty for you? He was willing to give up the job that would keep them comfortable for a month for you?

“I still don’t like this,” Boba grumbled, breaking your gaze to look at Din. He took a step back from the tense bubble the two of you created before turning to walk to the cockpit. “Get ready. We’re doing this tonight.”

Boba left the two of you in a flurry before the doors leading to the cockpit slammed shut. Din laid a tentative hand on your shoulder and you jumped in surprise. “Don’t worry, you’ll do great. Boba is just being dramatic.”

You were still frozen to your spot on the floor, staring at the sealed doors of the cockpit. “There’s just one problem.”

“What?”

“I don’t own a dress.”

———

After storming off, Boba passed the time in the cockpit, silently fuming by himself. The anger was like a raging sea in his chest, waves battering against his ribs. Logically, Boba knew that the plan was good and that it would work. The quarry would get one look at you and would fall at your feet in adoration, maybe even cuff himself if you asked in just the right way, just the right context. He knew that you could handle yourself and that you would be okay, and if not, he’d be there.

Realistically, though, the idea of some sleazy guy putting his hands on you made his stomach turn. Just the idea of another man touching you- no, even looking at you- made Boba see red. The anger and hatred for this quarry and his imagined slights against you rose up in his throat, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. His grip on one of the dashboard’s levers tightened before the lever snapped from the pressure. Boba looked at the metal object in his hand, disgusted.

“Great,” Boba grumbled to himself before tossing the broken lever to the corner. “Now I’ve got to fix that.”

Boba knew he shouldn’t feel this way about you. Feel this insanely possessive feeling that gripped his heart every time you walked into a room or smiled at him. You weren’t his, you didn’t belong to him, and you never would. Even if you had wanted him too, Boba reasoned with himself that he would turn you away for your own safety. You were too gentle, too kind, too pure to get wrapped up in his bloody life. He wouldn’t make you go through that, even if he desperately wanted you by his side every step of the way.

The watch on his vambrace beeped, signaling that it was time to leave. Boba stood up with a sigh, strapping his blaster to his hip. The sooner he left for this mission, the sooner he could get back to sulking by himself. He met Din in the hull of the ship who was waiting, ready for the mission. Din leaned against the wall, fingers messing with the whistling birds on his vambrace. Boba had always wanted some of those.

“Is she ready?” Boba asked while settling in next to Din. He crossed his arms over his chest with a sigh.

“Almost,” Din responded. “She had to run out earlier, so she is a little behind.”

“Run out?” The words left Boba’s mouth in confusion. What did he mean, you ‘ran out?’

Before Din could answer, the soft sound of clicks against the floor made the two Mandalorians look up in interest. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Boba’s heart almost burst through the hard beskar strapped to his chest at the sight of you.

You were absolutely breathtaking. Boba was glad for the helmet that hid his face, or else you and Din would’ve seen his gaping mouth. He couldn’t take his eyes off you- each glance sent a trickle of heat running south, pooling low in his stomach. The silvery-white fabric draped over your curves deliciously. A slit ran up the side of the skirt, showing your leg with each step. Boba couldn’t help but stare at the skin revealed before his eyes. You were ethereal, reminding him of the angels that lived on the moons of Iego.

“Wow...” Din let out a shaky breath. Boba’s gaze immediately snapped to Din who was currently drinking in your form. Anger and jealousy flared inside of Boba. “You look...”

“Beautiful,” Boba finished Din’s sentence, drawing your gaze to him. He hadn’t meant for the words to slip out, but they did, and his face was red under the helmet. The way you looked at him, a nervous smile gracing your features as you tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear made Boba want to reach out and touch you. Before he could do something he’d regret, Boba turned around and opened the ship’s ramp. “Let’s go.”

The walk to the casino was long, the three of you trying to make your way through Canto Bight’s bustling crowds. Din walked beside you, making light conversation while Boba trailed behind to watch out for any trouble. His mind wasn’t focused on scanning the crowd for dangerous people though, instead it was focused on the dip of your back where Din’s hand rested. Boba knew that it probably wasn’t anything other than friendly- the logical part of him told him this- but that still didn’t stop the animalistic urge growing inside him to snatch you away from Din’s grip with a snarl. Your dress draped low on your back, revealing even more skin that Boba longed to touch. You looked so soft, he was sure your skin would feel like the silk you were wearing. Din’s thumb continued tracing lazy circles into the exposed skin on the small of your back. With each brush, Boba’s vision tinted redder with ire.

“We’re here,” Din’s voice snapped Boba out of his thoughts, red haze fading when you turned and looked at him. Just one look from you and he could practically feel the anger melting off of him. “I’ll be waiting out back for the quarry. If you need me,” Din tapped the side of his helmet twice, a silent way of saying ‘call me,’ before he turned with a swirl of his cape. He vanished into the crowd, and Boba was left alone with you.

“Here,” he grabbed your wrist, bringing it closer to him and having your palm face up. He placed a small piece of technology in your open hand. “This is your communicator. Put it in your ear. It lets me hear what’s going on around you, and lets you talk to me if you need me for any reason.”

You looked at the small piece in your hand before putting it in your ear. It was slightly irritating, the little communicator. Boba pressed a button on his vambrace and a small little beep sounded in your ear.

“There,” Boba’s voice was much deeper through the earpiece. Even though he was only a few feet in front of you, it felt like he was right beside your head, whispering in your ear. “Now I can hear everything.”

“Everything?” Your mind drifted to what was about to happen. You knew you had to seduce the quarry, and that was already embarrassing as is, but now Boba gets to hear it too? “Even...”

“Yes,” Boba nodded. He already didn’t like the plan. Any plan that put you in harm’s way was a bad plan to him, but he still knew this would work. Didn’t mean that he had to like it. 

“What if I...” you trailed off, heat flooding your cheeks in embarrassment. Maker, you were so bad at this. “Nevermind.”

“What?” Boba prompted, stepping closer to you so he could avoid the moving crowd.

“No, it’s too embarrassing.”

“Sweet girl,” Boba sighed at the look of nervousness on your face. You had tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, and he desperately wanted to free it with a brush of his thumb. “If you don’t want to do this, we’ll just turn around and head back. Din and I-”

“No,” you cut him off. You could do this, no matter how inexperienced you were in the art of seduction. “I can do this. I may just... need help.”

“I’ll be watching you and will jump in if anything goes wrong-”

“No, not that,” you dismissed him with a wave of your hand. Kriff, why was this so awkward to tell him? “I’ve just... never seduced anyone before. What if he doesn’t even follow me out back, and this whole mission is a bust?”

For the second time that night, Boba was thankful that his helmet blocked his features from you. He was dumbstruck at your words- you had never seduced anyone before? Stars, Boba thought, you seduce him with just a smile. 

“Boba,” your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized that he was silent. He was too busy fantasizing about you actually trying to seduce him- you were already incredibly sexy to him every day. You weren’t even trying to make him feel all hot and bothered every time you looked at him. You were just that effortlessly alluring.

“If you really need me,” Boba tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. Kriff, if he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn you were trying to seduce him right now with that innocent look in your eyes, just begging for him to- “I’ll give you some pointers,” he cleared his throat. “But I don’t think you’ll need my help.”

You exhaled shakily. “Thank you, Boba,” you rested your hand on his green cuirass, right over his heart. Maker, you were going to make him come in his pants if you kept looking at him like that. You had barely touched him, barely said anything to him and he was already wanting to push you up against a wall and have his way with you. He could imagine it vividly with how close you were to him right now, your sweet scent filling his head. It would be so easy, Boba thought, to just grab your hips and pin you to the wall. To hitch your leg up and around his waist- leg bare from the slit in the silvery fabric of your dress- as he pressed his hard length against you and buried his face in your neck. So easy- “I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”

“Of course,” he shifted awkwardly on his feet, trying to adjust himself discreetly. “Anything for you, sweet girl.” The tracking fob clipped to his belt started beeping, noting the hunter that the quarry was close. He silenced it with a push of a button. Boba turned back to you. “It’s time.”

You sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. Boba desperately tried not to stare at your chest when you did that. “Wish me luck.” You turned with a swirl of your dress, silvery fabric billowing out behind you as you made your way into the casino. Boba just stood there, transfixed on your fleeting image. He hated to see you walk away, but he loved to watch you leave.

___

The casino was bright and loud- people surrounding various tables and shouting with glee over winning or yelling in fury at losing their entire fortune. Machines flashed blinking lights, tempting the patrons to waste their money at a chance to win. You tried to push the noise to the back of your head whilst your eyes scanned the crowd for the quarry. There were so many people, you weren’t sure if you were ever going to find the quarry until your eyes found him at the bar. He was leaning against the counter, talking to some pretty Twi’lek who did not seem that interested. You drew in a shaky breath before making your way to the bar. 

“Spotchka, please.” You settled in against the counter right next to the quarry, raising your hand to catch the bartender’s attention. You could feel the quarry’s eyes on you when you gave the bartender a dazzling smile. His gaze sent shivers down your spine- but not the good kind. It wasn’t the delicious shivers that raked over your body whenever Boba looked at you or brushed his hand against your skin. This gaze made you feel uncomfortable.

 “Any luck tonight?” The quarry sidled up next to you, forgetting the pretty Twi’lek. You forced yourself to give him a smile and turn towards him like you were even remotely interested.

“Unfortunately, no, not yet,” you brought the blue drink up to your lips and took a slow sip. Your eyes drifted over his form, acting like you were actually checking him out. “But I have a feeling my luck is about to change.”

The man smiled at you and his eyes settled on your cleavage. Fighting back the disgusted feeling you felt, you pushed out your breasts ever so subtly, trying to entice him even more.

“I think you’re right, gorgeous.”

___

Boba hated this. He hated sitting in some corner of the casino, watching you flirt with this scum. His hand was constantly clenched in a fist, other twitching to feel the smooth metal of his blaster. Boba desperately wanted to shoot the quarry down where he stood as he tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear. You laughed at something he must’ve said, head tilting back with laughter displaying your neck and more of your chest. Even from this far away, Boba could see that the quarry brazenly looked at your breasts and licked his lips in hunger. What was even worse was watching this man touch you and hear your words that were egging the quarry on.

“So,” you had trailed your hand down the man’s chest. Boba couldn’t help the hate and jealousy for the quarry that rose up in his throat like acid as he watched you. Boba wished it was him that you were trailing your hands over, wished it was him that you were looking at beneath your eyelashes. “Do you have any plans tonight?”

“Not at all.” The quarry dragged his hand lazily up and down your arm, seemingly trying to entice you. You had flushed at the man’s touches. Boba hoped that it was just a fluke- that you weren’t actually attracted to and turned on by this garbage. He could feel his finger twitch towards his blaster again. “What about you, gorgeous?”

Boba watched you pull your bottom lip between your teeth like you did earlier that night as you looked the man up and down. He almost launched himself from his seat when the quarry brushed his thumb over your lip, releasing the pillowy flesh. Boba should be the one doing that, not him. 

“Well,” you looked shyly up at the man, hand trailing down his chest. “I was hoping you could do something for me.”

“Yeah? What’s that, angel?” The quarry had wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him. Boba’s chest was heaving as he tried to calm himself down. You didn’t actually want the quarry, Boba had to remind himself. You were only doing this to help him and Din.

You had leaned in closer to him, mouth moving to whisper something in the quarry’s ear. Boba was able to hear what you said because of the earpiece. 

“Me,” you whispered seductively before pulling back slightly to crash your lips against the quarry’s. 

Red was all Boba saw. A growl ripped through his chest at the sight of you kissing that trash, that garbage, that scum. He launched from his seat and was making his way towards you so he could tear you from the man’s greedy grip.

“Boba, don’t.” Din’s voice cut through his earpiece. “Let her lead him outside first.” Boba stopped in his tracks at Din’s words. “You’re going to tip off the quarry if you mow down half the casino to get to him.”

Boba didn’t realize that the crowd had jumped away from his warpath. Whispers of “Mandalorian” and “bounty hunter” floated through the crowd while Boba stood there, fuming. He tried to take deep breaths to tamper down the fury that threatened to boil over at the image of you wrapped in the quarry’s arms. Only when the quarry took his lips off yours was Boba able to stop shaking from his anger.

“Let’s get out of here,” the quarry started to tug you towards the exit.

“He’s headed your way,” Boba gritted out through the comm. He trailed behind the two of you, watching you follow the quarry out the door. Within moments Boba was out through the exit, and fury swirled in his chest at what he saw.

The quarry had pinned you to the wall of the casino and had his hands and lips on you. Boba couldn’t wait for Din to swoop down from the shadows and get the quarry. He was going to put a stop to this, now.

Boba grabbed the back of the man’s shirt and ripped him off you. Anger flashed behind his visor as he slammed the quarry’s back against the wall. The man’s eyes widened in fear when Boba drew his fist back, poised to slam it into his face. Before he could break the man’s jaw, Din had finally revealed himself and put himself between the quarry and Boba.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch her again,” Boba seethed. He couldn’t even get any satisfaction of watching Din cuff the bastard. He had never wanted to kill someone so badly- not since he watched a jedi cut down his father.

“Boba.” Your soft voice had pulled him from his red-tinged thoughts. He looked down at you as you placed your hand on his arm. Boba almost melted into your soothing touch. “I’m okay, he didn’t hurt me.”

“I know, but-” Boba’s head turned to look at the scum again but your hand on his helmet directed his gaze back to you. He could feel his cheek heat up under your touch even though you weren’t directly touching his skin. The look you gave him made Boba weak in the knees- he could hardly feel the anger he was just raging with only minutes ago. 

“Everything I said, everything I did, was all a lie.” You had your hands on either side of his helmet, cupping his face. “I need you to know that.”

Boba could only nod at your words. He knew that they were true, but jealousy still lingered beneath his skin at the memory of your lips pressed against the quarry’s. “Guess you didn’t need my help after all, sweet girl.”

“Trust me, I most certainly did.” You unknowingly held his gaze under the black visor. “If I didn’t pretend that it was you that I was talking to, I wouldn’t have been able to do it.”

Your words made Boba pull up short. “What?”

The heat that flushed over your cheeks was beautiful. “I, umm, pretended that I was, ah, trying to seduce you.” You stumbled over your words, but Boba’s heart swelled with them. Before he could stop himself, Boba was tearing off his helmet from his head and pushing you back against the wall, large hands on your hips.

“Sweet girl,” Boba sighed as he brushed his nose against yours. Not wanting to waste another minute, he crashed his lips against yours. Your lips were so soft beneath his own, even better than he dreamed. A soft sigh slipped from between your lips and Boba almost let out a moan at the taste of your breath on his tongue. You even tasted sweet, Boba thought. He wondered where else you would taste sweet.

“Boba,” you moaned against his mouth. He just continued to kiss you, pulling you tight against his chest. Before he could make the kiss any deeper, you pulled away from him, much to his dismay. “We can’t do this.”

That certainly made him stop dead in his tracks, cold fear pulsing through his veins. He had thought that you wanted this, wanted him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“No,” you cut him off, hand cupping his cheek. “You misunderstood me. We can’t do this, not here.”

Just as your words had stopped his heart, they revived it just as easily. He couldn’t help but press a bruising kiss against your lips. “Thank the Maker.” His grip on you tightened. “You’re mine, sweet girl. Don’t you forget it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you smiled up at him before you pulled him back down to your lips. “Not in a million years.”

[uncanny8ellen]

What about him is so special?

Why do I keep imagining him in a room, little metal safe in a little bird cage of a village, bloodshot, vein-popped eyes filled with only red, and he rips the room in half, butchering his throat with a scream. Like that is all he could do. Like all the power in the world couldn't ever empower him.

I am unfortunately obsessed. I need to read all fics, where he takes back as much dignity as he possiby can and lives a human fucking life. He gotta be free. Let loose. His presence should be the new code for 'that guy again' to Umbrella. He should build bs stuff and blow up some towns. He gotta kick at Miranda ash and do an angry dance. He gotta say Bbitchhh many more times with those big fat lips of his. Unless that hammer a goddamn decoration he gotta bash some heads in left n right. Or use it to fly around, like how Thor swings his and goes yeet. Evil boi. Evil. So bad he robs Mcdonald for coffee at 3am, the poor staffs can't even seem appalled, all dead eyes typical Tuesday.

Decent sleep and all greasy food. Travel around the world. HOME DEPOT Imagine being stuck in almost-medieval cult village for decades. Bet the villagers shit in a pit. They use herb for med. They sacrifice goats. 'Newspapers banned' cuz mommy dearest wants her cattles not too smart goodgod. How he not completely insane. Does he even know internet? Memes? We got AI assistant on smartphones, it googles most things, we can even look up YouTube videos for stuffs. Does he understand a single word from that sentence? IS HE A SAINT???? I'd have gone and died trying to kill the tar-smeared chicken woman first year.

Probably projecting too much on him but the more I think about it the more it makes sense that he's got such crap communication skill but still got such charisma. He never needed nor had the chance to 'conversate'. He only needed to impress. Or at least, 'put on a show that everybody can enjoy'. Otherwise get holed up in that factory of his, bitter as hell at everything around him. When he said, 'Can you even imagine the humiliation?' I felt that.

It's in our nature as human beings to fight back when one's basic right is severely violated. It makes him that much more human. So human. Refusing to be an object for use. But that's all he ever was, a tool, a weapon, a slave. He's only ever known how to be useful, so he fails to see that rose, a human being who has her own life, and also ethan's entire world, cannot be a weapon the same way he was to Miranda. He genuinely does not know. Because he never had a loving family. Because he never was treated as a human. Or because he's gone through enough shit and holding on the last straw for dear life, thinking that maybe, this might be his chance.

Even when he's dying he's screaming how he has to kill her. I can understand that hatred. Oh boy. He needs therapy alright. But not the kind we get, no. He needs one that has crooked moral code and is a cynic. Who's seen and done just as much. Prob goes graverobbing together and share a shot or two. Good thing I got a strangely unsettling therapist oc who's usually that smoking Ben Affleck meme, done with life.

If he sees he's a lot like Miranda. He'd be real mad huh. But he gotta see it. He needs a new perspective. Only when he sees he's taking after Ms. Crow can he break the chain. I'd know. When you have nothing you are careless. He's so deprived of basic stuffs. I wonder if he'll be gentle, if he knows how. If he has something of his own, that he gets to cherish. Both Dr. Frankenstein and his Monster. But if he's treated as a human, an equal. Will he find some equilibrium amongst that contradiction?

Ideas, ideas....so little time. Stop making me resonate with your anger you metal conductor.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  6.3

Author’s Note:  Hello!  If you haven’t seen my post last night about choosing between two videos, I encourage you to check it out and give me your input! I need as much of it as possible.  Thanks!! Here’s the next chapter<3

...........................

Your eyes slowly opened to view the new cell Dottore had assigned you.  You thought the original cell had been bad, so when your vision finally focused, you realized in great annoyance that this cage was meant for a literal animal.  Bars replaced the entry wall and doorway, leaving you no privacy in this underground arena.  Even the toilet lacked some sort of curtain to hide you from prying eyes, though you sincerely doubted anyone would bother to cause that kind of trouble with you.

You forced yourself to sit up despite the horrendous pain that shook the very bones within you.  Yesterday was blurry, but the image of a not-so-kind Signora granting you rest remained prominent.  That awful interrogation was no doubt going to continue today, but at least you got the rest you desperately needed.  Your mind was clearer now, less weak and broken than last night.  If Signora never gave Dottore the order, what would have happened?  Would you have only passed out, or would you have actually died in the process?  Were you one to give in on the brink of death and spill what you already know, risking Xiao's life?

A sore throat plagued you, and the cold of the country seemed to seep into the building--even as low as down here.  Your puffy eyes slid to the bars that prevented your escape...Why weren't there any guards today?  A blink wiped away some of the blurriness and you slowly crawled over to the cell door.  A faint but unmistakable ruckus leaked through the prison's exit, and your posture straightened.  It was only when the door at the end of the hall burst off its hinges that you considered the possibility of an attack.

The door wasn't the only thing that clattered to the ground.  "X-Xiao?"  Your voice came out more broken than intended, and your drowsiness was swept under the rug.  Am I seeing things?  "Xiao!"

"Ha-ha!  Didn't think he'd wake up so early," a Fatui agent entered the corridor and lifted the unconscious adeptus by the nape of his neck.  "Must've been some sort of reflex, he's out cold again.  Pathetic.  This is the might of the adepti?"

Your blood ran colder when a third figure entered.  His eyes met yours as he retied Xiao's hands behind his back, half-pushing him forward to walk.  A devious smile slipped across his lips as he escorted Xiao past your cell.

"I thought you'd appreciate it if I was the one to bring him in," Childe teased as he walked past you.

"Xiao!"  You couldn't raise your voice as much as you wanted to, but the yaksha's eyes opened.  "Xiao! What happened?!"

"...a-ambushed..."  His body was too weak to lift his head.

"What the hell did you do to him?"  The shriek was like music to Childe's ears as he roughly discarded the yaksha into a cell you couldn't see from where you were placed.  "HEY! Don't do that!"

Childe returned to your cell and squatted down so he was level with you.  "I didn't do anything to him, ojou-chan.  He was like this when we found him."

"'Found?'"  The cell walls seemed to constrict you, force you into maintaining eye contact.  "What did you do?  What happened to everyone?  Where's Aether, Zhongli?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, girlie," he booped your forehead and stood up.  "Just remember the sight I just gave to you; you wasted your love on someone that wasn't strong enough to protect you."  He passed the Fatui agent and made a face at the broken door that lay on the ground.  "Fix this."

"Yes, Master Childe."

............................................

"Ugh..."  A faint groan made its way to your ears.

"Xiao?"  You dragged your body to the corner of the cell so you could hear him better.  "Are you okay?"  The bars your hands were around seemed less cold and cruel now that a familiar presence was awake.

"This is nothing."  It was an obvious lie, but you didn't press further until he yelped in pain a few seconds later.

"Xiao!"

"Sigils," he coughed.  "I can't touch the walls."

"Sigils? What kind of sigils?"

"The kind that trap and seal adepti, obviously."  He shuffled around the best he could so that he was situated in the exact middle of his cell.  

"But I thought they didn't know where to find you..."  Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought aloud.  They couldn't have found him so quickly, and by the sound of it, they weren't planning on looking for him anytime soon either.  It didn't add up.

"Relax.  These aren't nearly enough to restrain me.  I can--"

A little metal object flew across the ceiling until it landed on the newly-fixed doorframe.  It was some sort of metal bird with eyes that glowed an ominous red.  The beak tapped the doorframe twice, and signaled for it to open.

"I see my subjects are up and about," Dottore stuck his arm out so his little bird could perch on his sleeve.  His leisure footsteps carried him to the halfway point between your and Xiao's cells so he could look at the two of you.  When his eyes landed on Xiao, a manic grin spread across his lips.  "Already planning on breaking out?  Go ahead and give it a try.  The amount of power you'd need to exert would kill her."

"Huh?"  Just what exactly was Xiao doing right now?  "Don't listen to him, he's trying to force submission."

"Am I?  I just saved your life right now, girlie," Dottore's eyes shifted to yours, then returned to Xiao.  The metal bird hopped onto the doctor's shoulder so he could rest his arm at his side.  Another smile plagued his lips.  "Your little savior here only just noticed the most powerful sigil right beside him.  To break it would require most of his strength and this entire underground network would be collateral damage.  There'd be no saving you."

Judging by the silence that emanated from Xiao's cell, he was right.  "Just do it, Xiao."  Your voice didn't hold any emotion, save for a longing for his safe return.  "You don't have to worry about me."

Dottore let out a cackle that momentarily startled his artificial companion.  "Ha!  I wasn't aware adepti could be defeated so easily!"

"What're you talking about?"

"Oh, my dear, you should see the look on his face right now.  Actually, I can make that happen."  He nudged the bird in the direction of the door and it took off.  This time it landed on the doorknob and pecked three times.  After a few moments of silence, the door opened.  "Since Childe has been with you two the longest, I've asked the Tsaritsa for his aid.  From his reports it seems like you three had quite the companionship."

You heard Xiao scoff at the words, then your cell door opened.  "Looks like we'll be stuck together for awhile longer," Childe lifted you off the ground with little effort.  His nose scrunched up when he realized he did it with such ease.  Is she just that broken, or just that skinny now?  He shrugged the question off as he escorted you to Xiao's cell.

"When was it you stumbled upon him yesterday?"  Dottore addressed his subordinate as he opened a small bag that was just handed to him by a Fatui agent.  That agent, along with Childe, forced you to your knees.  Xiao shifted forward, eyes widening slightly as he tried to read the situation.

"Sometime in the late evening, in Fontaine.  They were heading straight for Snezhnaya."  Childe pushed some of your hair out of the way and exposed the nape of your neck.  "Seems like they were on their way to rescue you, ojou-chan.  I only happened to stumble upon them by chance."

The way he said that made you think it wasn't at all by chance.  It would explain why these symbols were already painted within Xiao's cell...Your eyes scanned Xiao's surroundings.  Were those seals painted with red paint, or with blood?  Maybe it was better if you didn't know the answer.  At least Xiao didn't appear to be too injured.

"And you overheard them discussing Xiao's unconscious state?"  Childe confirmed with a nod as his grip on you tightened.  "Good.  I have a theory pertaining to his current state.  You see, Childe, I had been interrogating her last night as well.  I think there may be yet another connection we can study--"

Your heart dropped when you peeked up to see that he was filling a syringe with a mysterious orange liquid.  If that was the same liquid from yesterday--  "Please don't."

"Ha! 'Please don't?'  That's the only comeback you have today?"  Dottore let out another cackle and tapped the excess liquid off of the needle.  "Don't worry missy, this is a smaller dosage."

"No!"  The needle penetrated your skin and you immediately felt like your insides were being torched alive.  Childe and the Fatui agent let you squirm in pain on the ground, while Dottore had his attention on Xiao.

Xiao hid his pain well this time around.  He had dealt with it yesterday, after all.  He continued to glare at Dottore, his hands subtly curling into tight fists to deal with the pain.  The harbinger took it as a challenge, and he prepared another needle.  It was then when the yaksha let the pain show on his face, and he tilted his head in discomfort as the pain only worsened.

Dottore's hands froze when he noticed the glowing in his eyes.  "I see.  It looks like we have a breakthrough already, Childe."  He yanked your head up from the ground and forced you to look at him.  "See how quick progress can be made when you obtain all the variables?"

....................................................

"How are you feeling?"  Xiao's voice coaxed you out of the hysterical mindset the pain had put you in.

"H-How did I get in here?"  You were in his cell, head still spinning and stomach still churning.  Your body was slick with a cold sweat.  Your fingers were still twitching uncontrollably as you lay on the ground beside him.

"I suppose you don't remember," Xiao returned his gaze forward.  "They decided it would be better for us to remain in a single cell, that way the odds of you dying in an escape are high."

"Great--" A groan left your lips as you tried to prop yourself on an elbow.

"You shouldn't move."  When you ignored him, he pushed you back down with a gloved hand on your shoulder.  "You're pushing yourself too far.  Lie down and rest."

"I'm fine!" Your protest was accompanied by another attempt to sit up, but this time he pinned you down with both hands.  He hovered over you, but was careful not to be too forceful with your already-aching body.

"Your body cannot handle this much strain.  You don't understand the--"

"No, you don't understand.  I've been put through so much torture these past few days and you haven't seen--"  Your voice caught in your throat when he pulled away.  How insensitive of me; he knows more than plenty of what it's like.  "...I'm sorry for snapping, I..."

"I have felt some of the pain they put you through," his gaze finally returned to yours.  "That's why I'm telling you to rest.  Even I could not withstand that pain.  Zhongli said it was a new side effect, like how you can feel my thoughts.  I can now feel your emotions and physical pains."

"That's why you were found unconscious?"  It took you a moment to process the new developments.  Just what emotions could he feel from you?  Hopefully not your love for him...

"Have you not realized what he was injecting you with?"  Your confused expression made him shake his head.  "It was a synthetic solution made with your own blood."

"My own blood? But they didn't take any samples--"

"They could have when you were unconscious.  Then they must have enhanced it somehow, made it more concentrated.  The burning is attributed to a high amount of adeptal energy.  He's effectively poisoning you."

"Then why did it hurt you?  You're an adeptus."

"If they were to inject it directly into me, I wouldn't be harmed.  But since it was injected into a mortal body that's linked to mine and is not fully adeptus, I would feel what your body feels."

"When did you start feeling my feelings and pain?"  If he was feeling it the entire time you've been in this awful place, you were going to feel even worse for snapping at him.  

"Your emotions began plaguing me a few days ago.  As for your pain, only last night.  I overheard Zhongli explaining his theories while I came in and out of consciousness."  He absentmindedly stared at the hallway.  "Regardless, we're too late.  They already have the means of creating pathetic mortal versions of adepti; all that's left is to study us until they know the full powers and limitations of the bonds, and then..."  We'll more than likely be slaughtered when they're through with us.

"And...what about the others?  Zhongli, Aether?  Did they escape?"

The unfriendly metal bird impatiently hopped along the hall's floor.  Xiao watched it with a neutral expression.  "No.  They didn't."

...............................

Coming up:  The bond only strengthens.  An introduction to a new harbinger.

[sleepwellmyprince]

hey everyone! here’s that little drabble i had talked about! i think it’s really cute, and i did try to keep johnny in character- somewhat. but it’s hard to write gruff characters like himself, and avoid putting my softer personality onto him. but i did my best! i hope you enjoy it :>

edit: i completely forgot!!! this fanfic does contain spoilers for the beginning of the game!! it is also written from the perspective of a street kid. sorry i didn’t place this here before!

Are you gonna watch me sleep, or join me?

Johnny x V / GN Reader

Night City had been exceptionally rough on you today, as it usually was. It didn’t help that a man who’d been dead for half a century was on your ass for a majority of the time. That was likely going to be the case for a long fucking time.

You’d finally gotten back to your apartment at about two in the morning. You were completely beat after running around all day, tryouts not to find a way to stop, or at least delay the process of your doom.

The door to your apartment slid open once you arrived, the lights inside switching on. As the door closed behind you, the flickering of the rockerboy you’d been forced to become familiarized with appeared by your wardrobe. He had his usual pose: arms crossed, leaning against a wall, hair slipping into his face, sunglasses threatening to fall off his nose, and that stoic, almost annoyed expression.

He looked at you through the red tint of his sunglasses, not saying anything for a moment. And you hoped that he would remain silent, god you prayed that he would, but he never really showed himself without having something to say.

“So, how was work today, sweetie?” Johnny sarcastically asked. You rolled your eyes as a response, not giving him the satisfaction of a vocal reply. You kicked your shoes off, setting them down beside your closet. He watched you closely, and as you glanced back at him, you could tell he was waiting for a true response.

For now, you wouldn’t give him one. You walked over to the bathroom, starting to run the sink. The mirror switched on, helping you to start cleaning your face. There was a small silence between you two for a moment, the only sound in the small apartment being the sound of running water.

After you shut the water off, he pressed on. “Are you gonna answer me?”

You let out a heavy sigh, continuing to stare at yourself in the mirror. Soon enough, he would appear behind you, still in that same pose. “I’m really not in the mood tonight,” you answered, reaching your hands up to rub the dark bags under your eyes.

“I don’t think you have much of a choice, V.” Johnny stared at you through the mirror, taking his glasses off and playing with one of the temples between his metal fingertips.

You moved your hands away from your tired eyes, now looking down at the sink’s countertop. You reached over to grab one of the pill bottles that Misty had given you weeks ago, specifically the blue colored one. Shaking it with your hand, you looked up to Johnny through the mirror. The sound of pills rattling must have caught his attention, because he looked up from his glasses. Though, he didn’t look concerned.

“I think I do, actually. I’m pretty sure you remember the last time I popped one of these, and wherever you went when I did.” You eyed him in the mirror as you spoke, catching one of his eyebrows raising. You’d turn around, leaning back against the counter while continuing to hold up the bottle. “Now, I won’t hesitate to take some more of these, if you won’t calm down on your own. You understand?”

Johnny stood there for a moment, keeping his gaze on you for a while. He didn’t say a word, staring relentlessly with his deep brown eyes. You eventually decided to break the almost unbearable silence for him, deeming this his lack of speech was his answer.

You gently shook the bottle a final time, and placed it down on the edge of the sink. He stood still, no longer playing with his sunglasses. Eventually, you ripped your eyes away from his gaze, and proceeded to walk over to your bed. A light yawn escaped your lips as you stepped over to your bed. Johnny would reappear beside the bed, standing in the spot where you first met him in. Well, technically you first met him in... your mind? His mind? You weren’t all too sure. It was after the heist after so many people died. Including those you were close to. God, poor T-bug, and Jackie...

You fell back into the bed, your legs drifting over the side. You could feel Johnny’s eyes still on you, which frankly, might be a bit more unnerving than him talking about how he wants to take your body for himself.

Setting your arms underneath your neck to prop your head up, you look up at him. “Are you gonna just watch me sleep? Or are you gonna join me?” You asked sarcastically. This certainly caught his attention, making him let out a scoff of a chuckle.

“You’re really offering a dead guy to sleep with you? That’s pretty fucking pathetic,” he insulted, looking over you with a puzzled, yet amused expression.

“Yeah, yeah. Take it or leave it, dickhead.” You hadn’t exactly planned for this to be the actual outcome of your sarcasm, but you know what? Fuck it. Some actual human interaction after about 50 years could do the fucker some good.

You shifted your body to the side, moving to face the wall. This provided some space for Johnny, if he actually chose to lay down. Of course, you didn’t expect that to be the case, so you closed your eyes and tried to sleep.

And you would have fallen asleep, if not for a slight weight appearing beside you. Obviously, you knew it was him, but you glanced over your shoulder to look at him anyway.

He had been looking at your back however he looked up to your eyes once you glanced over. He seemed much calmer now, like he wasn’t concerned with being so big and scary anymore. Or at least, for the time being.

You weren’t exactly sure if you should say anything at all, but your curiosity tugged at your mind.

“Do you ever sleep?” You asked, slowly shifting to face him. “Do you even need to sleep?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, his brown, near black hair slowly slipping in front of his eyes due to gravity. “Whenever you sleep, I get that energy. So I guess not.” His eyes dashed down to the blankets, analyzing the fabric without any real purpose. “I haven’t tried actually sleeping since I was... revived, or whatever you want to call it.”

You let out a quiet hum and gave a small nod as a response. As much as this bitter man was an absolute pain in your ass, you still felt kind of bad for him. He was stuck with you completely, and would either be forced to live again through your body, or be killed for a second time. Frankly, you weren’t sure which outcome would be worse.

With a bit of hesitance, you reached forward to set your hand on top of his cold, metal one. It was strange, how you could feel him, and how he could still make small impacts on the world, in a sense. He could pick up objects, make floors creak underneath the weight of his body, and of course, touch and affect you.

The warmth of your hand caused him to look up from the blankets, and to your hand on his. He appeared confused at first, glancing to your eyes for a reply, or at least some sort of explanation.

It took you a moment to put together words that had actual substance to them, but you pulled them together eventually. “I’m sorry that you have to go through this crap. It must be a lot to process all at once.” You paused, seeing him scoff quietly. “I mean that, Johnny.”

He shook his head after that, letting out a quiet sigh. His lips parted, as if he was going to say something. However, he remained silent. He seemed to be stumped, unsure of whether or not to believe you. But why would you lie? You had no reason to.

“You shouldn’t be apologizing. Ain’t exactly your fault that we’re stuck together.” Johnny spoke quietly, avoiding eye contact with you once again. He flipped his arm over, his metal palm now meeting with your own. You thought about intertwining your fingers with his, but he would end up doing that for you. “I’m sorry, V.”

To hear an apology that sounded genuine from Johnny fucking Silverhand... It seemed to good to be true. But he didn’t have a reason to lie either, or at least, you didn’t think so. Instead, you chalked it up to him being tired, as were you.

You both laid there, staring down at each other’s hands. Your hand was smaller than his, but only just. Even though his arm was cold, it was still oddly comforting. You hoped that your own touch had that same effect.

You gently squeezed his hand, looking back up to give him a faint, gentle smile. “Get some sleep, Johnny. It sounds like you need it.” He gave a small chuckle to that, shifting onto his back, but still holding your hand. You remained on your side, watching as Johnny settled onto his back.

No other words were spoken that night, and no words were necessary, either. The silence between you two was peaceful, and it worked to quickly put you both to sleep. Arms still linked by your hands, a restful slumber was given to you both, which was certainly needed and deserved.

[gureishi]

10 and Saeyoung if that's okay, thank you! 💕

Thank you for this request, darling anon! And I am so so sorry, but I have written a reset theory fic. I never do this! Really! But this prompt was screaming at me, and I just had to. If you don’t mind a bit of pain, I hope you enjoy this. It’s the good kind of pain, I promise. ♡

i can feel you even now

Saeyoung X Reader, T (cw: reset theory, angst), words: 2223

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

There is an indent in the pillow where you used to sleep, and he isn’t smoothing it out.

It has been eleven hours, forty-two minutes, and seventeen seconds since you were here—which means, Saeyoung thinks (drumming his fingers impatiently on his desk, averting his eyes from his work phone, which is buzzing insistently), that he may get to talk to you again very soon.

He doesn’t know for sure that you’ll be back tonight. But lately, you haven’t been waiting long.

He spins around aimlessly in his chair. Checks the clock. Eleven hours, forty-two minutes, and fifty seconds.

The first time you left him, you were gone for weeks, and he nearly gave up altogether. He ignored his agency; he spurned his friends. He stopped checked the messenger; he didn’t pick up his work phone. It was a miracle that he survived those few weeks—a miracle he opened the messenger when he did (feeling a tingling in his fingers that told him, inexplicably, that you had returned).

And when you didn’t remember him, he felt sick to his stomach. His head pounded; his vision went fuzzy, like he, too, was fading out of existence. But he held on, somehow, for you: went through the motions the way he always had, because he didn’t know what else to do. Because you’d want him to. Because he knew, somehow, that you would find your way back to him.

And you did. And it was different—and it was the same. You loved him every bit as fiercely as before, though the way you told him was different, and though your eyes were softer. Almost as if you knew that you had been here before.

And the more he looked at you, the hazier his memories became—till he wasn’t even sure what was past or present; till he could no longer remember how you had been before you had left him for the first time.

It all come rushing back when you disappeared again. You left—you returned. You left again. You came back.

He never got used to it. But he knows, now, what to expect.

He knows what time of day you usually slip back into his world—unnoticed, unseen, a tiny blip in the fabric that holds the universes together. He knows how you will behave when you want him—knows what you will say when you don’t. You don’t always choose him—and when you don’t, his heart arches like it has been submerged in a noxious liquid: burning, melting.

But most of the time, you choose him.

Most of the time, you make your wandering way back to him—different and the same, nostalgic and new—and his photographic memory can’t manage it, somehow, and all the moments of your past and present and tenuous future blur together into a mess of touches and delight, terror and devotion.

He tucks his legs up into his chair: a physical manifestation of the anxiety knotting in his chest. He looks at his phone.

Eleven hours, forty-six minutes, and twelve seconds.

You were with him longer, this time, than ever before.

He doesn’t check if the pictures of you are still saved on his phone. He knows they are gone—they always are.

But he doesn’t need them: your face is fixed in his mind like it has been carved by a hot knife into smoldering metal. He closes his eyes, his head pounding, and can see the shadows your eyelashes cast on your cheeks. He can see your jaw when it is lit by sparkling sun, as you sit in the passenger seat of his car; he can see the way your shoulders shake when he makes you laugh. He almost believes that if he stretches out his weary hand, he will touch your arm: find it soft and warm; feel your hands curling around his, the way they always do. He can hear the way you breathe when you’re sleeping; he can hear you calling his name.

Who is he, he thinks, without you?

With you, he is Saeyoung, and Saeyoung is someone who is soft and scarred and shifting. And loved; Saeyoung is loved. But without you, he is only Seven, and Seven is no one at all.

Ah: he feels sick again.

His work phone buzzes itself off the desk, and he doesn’t bother to pick it up. He digs his palms into his closed eyes and sees shades of purple and red; his office is dark, because it’s late and he hasn’t turned on any lights. 

When you are here, the house is always full of light. He laughed—just yesterday (a lifetime ago), telling you that you were going to run up his electricity bill. You had lights on in the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom, the bathroom—as though determined to flood his sad, underground home with brightness. You giggled and kissed the tip of his nose.

“You can afford it,” you told him.

You padded around his home barefoot. You left your socks everywhere—and you were so clean otherwise, but in this one way, you were messy (just like him).

“I like that it looks like I live here,” you told him once—not recently, but two returns ago. “It makes me happy to know I belong.”

His other phone lights up: the messenger. But it is not midnight yet, so he turns the phone over. It can’t be you. If you are coming at all, you won’t be here yet.

The gaps have gotten shorter lately. Sometimes you are gone for only a day or two; last time, it was just twelve hours. 

But he doesn’t tell you.

He wants to—oh, how he wants to whisper yes, I know when you tell him you love him for what you think is the first time. But he can’t, because when you look at him like that he is incapacitated; but he can’t, because he fears that if you know the truth, you won’t ever come back.

Saeyoung doesn’t know if time itself is repeating, or if he alone is stuck—fated to loop forever and ever around the moment in his life that means the most. He doesn’t know where you go when you leave his side—doesn’t know if there is another life you’re returning to.

Take me with you, he thinks. I’ll live there too.

He flips his phone back over again to check the time.

Eleven hours, fifty-two minutes, and thirty-three seconds.

You left at exactly noon. He knew it was coming—had feared, for days, that it would happen at any moment. The world was letting him have this for too long, he thought—so many nights in a row with you in his arms.

He often wonders if the circling of time is divine punishment for the person he used to be. But with you, he is becoming someone else—a person you can be proud of.

But he understands that he doesn’t get forever with you.

He knew, earlier today, that the time was drawing near, and so he tried not to leave your side. He has never seen the way you leave: never understood if you walk out a door and faded away, or simply disappear right where you are standing. No matter how hard he looks, how closely he watches—it always happens when his back is turned.

This time, you left him for a moment only. You slept in that day; it was late morning, and he was in the kitchen watching you make coffee. He was smiling at the way your hair kept falling into your eyes. 

“Be right back,” you said cheerily. You went to the pantry for the jar of unground coffee.

“I’ll come with you,” he started to say—but the words died on his lips as you turned the corner.

Oh, he thought. This is it.

You didn’t come back.

He waited—perched on the counter, frozen in place—until his legs cramped up and his head started to ache. At last, he checked the coffee maker: empty, though you’d filled the canister with water just before you left. He didn’t retrace your steps—didn’t go to the pantry to see the spot where you’d vanished.

He’d tried that before. It had been excruciating.

He gets up from his desk, now—walks aimlessly down the hall, returns to the bedroom. He turns on the light—winces as it burns his eyes.

And there is the indent in the pillow: just the shape of your head. The objects you leave behind disappear, but the marks you leave linger. And he made the bed that morning, before you left—but he didn’t smooth out your pillow. He never does.

Just in case.

He sits carefully on the edge of the bed—feeling, for some reason, that he shouldn’t wrinkle the sheets (though he doesn’t know quite why he bothers). Even if you return tonight—even if you return at all—it will be weeks before you are back in this house.

He tries to swallow, and finds it difficult.

He’s not sure he’ll be able to sleep in this bed while you’re gone.

Often, after you’ve left, he sleeps at his desk—as he sometimes used to before you appeared in his life. Sometimes he sleeps in the living room, with all the lights on so he doesn’t have to see how dark it is in here, without the glowing stars he has on the ceiling of his bedroom. And sometimes he does come back to his bed: is thankful, at least, that no one can see him as he presses his face into the pillow that used to be yours and fights with his stinging eyes.

He paces the room. He feels something—not the emptiness he is used to, but something new. Like fire.

Ah—he knows this feeling. He is angry.

He hates the universe, he thinks, for cursing him the way it has—hates the other place you go, for taking you away from him. Hates you, for appearing in his life against all odds and putting the pieces of him together, then leaving him half-complete and longing to hold you.

No.

No—he doesn’t hate you. He hates the way his chest feels, like it’s caving in; hates the fear that claws at his stomach as he waits for you. But there is not one single thing about you that he doesn’t love.

You are good—too good, to care for someone like him. You are kind; you are forgiving. You are resilient.

You keep coming back.

Saeyoung flips the lights off, not allowing himself a last glance at the pillow. He makes his way back down the hall.

He steps on something.

And before he has stooped to pick it up, he knows—knows, in the part of his heart that always waits for your return; knows, in the tips of his fingers that remember how it feels to touch your cheek. His heart is in his throat.

He bends down. It is a sock.

Oh, and it’s a small sock, smaller than his—and it is short and brightly colored, and it has been left here all on its own, its partner discarded carelessly in another room. 

Breathlessly, he says your name. The air seems to shimmer in the wake of his voice.

Because always, when you leave, the signs of you go too: the coffee maker is empty, the shoes are gone from the entryway, your clothes are no longer in his closet. The socks disappear from the halls.

Saeyoung is used to the way things are. But this—this is something new.

He stumbles mindlessly back to his office, the sock in his shaky hand. Breaking, he thinks wildly—shifting. Whatever strange twist of fate is taking you from him again and again is falling apart—or the walls between his world and yours are crumbling—or he misses you enough that you just can’t quite leave him behind.

It’s changing, he thinks—with a certainty he didn’t know he had.

He sinks into his chair. Eleven hours, fifty-nine minutes, and seven seconds. His head is spinning. Something has shifted in the very fabric of the universe. Something is falling apart. Something is being born anew.

For the first time in eleven hours, fifty-nine minutes, and fifty-five seconds, he feels a tiny flickering in his chest: a little fluttery thing. Less familiar.

It’s hope.

He opens the messenger. There are five people logged in. He closes his eyes. He tries to breathe.

Three, two, one…

He opens his eyes.

Six: there are six people now.

His fingers shake as he pulls up the users on his computer: and there you are. Not here, beside him, but in this world—one step closer to falling right back into his arms.

His dark office feels brighter, all of a sudden. He whispers your name again: intones it, like a prayer, into the still air.

This time will be different, he thinks—not with his mind, but with his whole aching, beating, longing heart.

This time, I’m not letting you go.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

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