#my trust issues flexing with this lady

[iwatcheditbegin]

Taylor at the iheart awards: wHaT’s Ts7 ? I dOn’T hAvE nEw mUsic coMinG. Y'all are dumb lol 🌴 🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴 🦋🦋🦋🌈🌈

Taylor a few weeks later :

4.26

[mmmmmmmmmmmmsoup]

Yandere x Gardener reader 2.0

(This post is like another root from the story tree. But instead of talking about David, we talk about a new customer of yours, Cash)

Warning: Yandere, stalking, nsfw?

• so now that you were working at more locations, and keeping your distance from David, you found yourself on a ranch

• Not your ranch of course, but a costumers

• a man named cash wanted some help tending to his mothers garden

• his mother was growing to that age where things didn’t come easy, and not that he couldn’t take care of the garden himself, he just didn’t have the time

• he had cows, chickens, and crops to take care of. But he still wanted to make his mama happy

• that’s where you come in. A few times a week you would come by, weeding, dead heading, and watering the flowers

• Cash and his mother also had a green house full of veggies and some other edible things, you took care of that too

• now the first time you met Cash, he was quiet  and you had no idea if even liked you

• but that didn’t matter, he hired you to work, and work you did! Plus, the view you got to see while working was beautiful, just a valley of rolling hills

• and Cashes view of you was… well, let’s say he had a hard time looking away

• at first Cash didn’t really pay much time to you, you had a job to do and so did he. and as long as you did your job well, there wouldn’t be an issue

• he was also a little embarrassed to having to hire you, he wished he could just take care of the garden himself but alas, there just weren’t enough hours in the day

• he liked that you had manners. He had told you if you harvested any fruits or veggies to just bring them inside and put them on the kitchen counter

• and every time you did, you’d knock, make sure him and or his mama was aware of your present and quietly walk to the kitchen

• sometimes you even asked his mama if she needed anything like a snack or a glass of water, he thought that was sweet

• sometimes you’d leave a small bouquet of flowers freshly plucked from the garden and place it in the living room for him and his mama to see

• he thought you were a sweet girl, he didn’t dig much further then that, he didn’t want to

• but one day, when Cash was heading to the house for lunch, he saw you.

• you were ripping a small old stump out of the ground, and Cash just couldn’t look away

• you were wearing a tank top, sweating, covered in dirt, and your muscles flexing

(even if you don’t think your that muscly irl, trust me, if you ever do get gardening as a job, you will develop muscle)

• oh lord, this man just turned into a blushing mess

• ever since that day, he started paying attention to you more

• you see, Cash always came home for lunch, and the window above the sink, where he washed dishes was in perfect view of the garden

• also in perfect view was your ass when you bent over to pluck a flower or whatever else you were doing

• he started washing dishes by hand a lot more

• anytime you suggest something for the garden, that be a certain tool, plant, or pest control, you’d find it either in the shed during your next visit or he would straight up give you money to go buy it

• and he would totally give you too much money too. If you ever try to give him his change back, he would refuse and just say it’s your tip

• one day you had told him how people’s gardens were being ruined during the nights and within three days, he had updated his whole security system (by the way, this man is like rich, so he already had gates and a pretty good security system)

• he even set up some cameras facing the garden, only for security reason of course… no other reason

• he just likes you ok, and has no idea how to show it

• not only were you sweet, a hard worker, and hot as fuck, but his mama loved you

• “that gardener is such a lovely lady, and does such a nice job on my garden!”

• mama would 100% bake cookies for you and put them in a container for you to take home

• Cash thought highly of what his mother thought, and if she liked you, I mean????

• If his garden produced to many of a certain vegetable, he would just give you the extra (saving on that grocery bill gorl)

• one day when cash had a little bit more free time, he chose to have a picnic with his mama, he was thinking about asking you to join, but his mama beat him to it

• “hello y/n, me and my son are having a picnic, you should join us”

• you looked behind her to see Cash, looking slightly bashful and quick to look away when he noticed you staring

• “sure, I’d love too!”

• Cash laid down a blanket, and sat between you and his mama

• you ate some sandwiches with some home grown veggies on the side, and of course cookies made by mama her self

• you all had a nice chat, mainly mama asking about you

• cash learned how you liked to dabble in art, drawing, painting, photography, you name it you’ve probably tried it

• and just other little things like family, where your from, if you go to school or not, stuff like that

• like dam, you just keep getting better and better

• the more he learned about you, the more he liked you

• he was also thankful his mama was the one handling the conversation part, he was never great at socializing

• he also had a hard time focusing on what was being said when his eyes kept wondering to your soft lips

• fuck, he’s blushing so hard

• ever since that picnic happened, mama totally knows what’s up ;)

• she thinks it’s cute that her son FINALLY has a crush, maybe she will actually get some more grandkids!

• so every now and then she ask you to help cash with something or maybe the other way around, just so you spend more time together

• cash gets so embarrassed every time

This post is getting too long! How did I do? Any tips, tricks? Let me know!

Also what do you think about David and cash?

Whenever I’m talking about cash, I’ll probably always post it as a 0.2 chapter, like I did here

[reverse-moon]

Tw for thread: Mental Abuse. Straight up, talk of suicide allusions and belittling of the topic, long post.

TL;DR: We need to just stop talking about Mafuyu's mom being a good mom.

How Mafuyu's mom is horrible ((and why if you defend her mom, you need reevaluation)).

Spoilers for the new event in JP (Immiscible Discord).

[[{{ EDIT: I can't make the read more line, I'm sorry 😔 }}]]

Okay, let's get chapters 1-3 out of the way.

The biggest issue is she completely ignores Mafuyu's privacy, goes through her computer and other things, then openly admits she did.

That. That is how you lose your child's trust. You can SEE Mafuyu lose trust in her mom.

((Note, I've been made aware that she also PROMISED to stop doing that. Bitch???))

Even BEFORE Immiscible Discord, Mafuyu's mom shows signs of trying to live through Mafuyu.

This is, in fact, mentally abusive. Hands fucking down.

Living through your kid makes them push away ((which Mafuyu is starting to try and do)).

Most of the rest is from her interactions with Kanade.

When she found Nightcord, she went through enough messages to learn about Enanan, Amia and K.

We can assume she also figured out out of all the other Niigo members, K was the most soft spoken and most likely a weak link.

This is why she messaged Kanade, rather than Ena or Mizuki.

Upon meeting Kanade in person, she picked a place that was rather fancy, even noting her own (supposed) overwhelmed feeling when first being there.

My literal first words when hearing her explanation were "Damn, she's trying to flex and scare".

((Small side note, my buddy Tyz later on said in regards to the messaging part "she knew kanade was a wet cat", to which I said "Jokes on her, that wet cat has clawss". This was AFTER the hotel commentary.))

Mafuyu's mom hoped to instill a sense of power over Kanade by bringing her someplace she wouldn't be comfortable in. And it worked too, though Kanade didn't let that stop her ((bless-ed be Yoisaki-chan))

When being told that music is important to her daughter ((and after her own daughter saying so)), she tells Kanade that "Mafuyu's" dream of becoming a doctor is still more important, and so music should just be a hobby that she does in her spare time.

Proceeding to tell Kanade Mafuyu should quite Niigo due to contrasting deadlines being in the way of things.

She constantly subtly berates Kanade though all of this, by the way.

She pretends Mafuyu hasn't for TWO YEARS managed to balance things with no major issues. As well as assumes Mafuyu doesn't want to be in Niigo.

I forgot to mention earlier that Mafuyu hid all her music stuff in a folder on her computer btw. And that she hoped her mom wouldn't snoop that much.

Asahina mom 100% tells Kanade that Nightcord at 25:00 AND music aren't necessary — we can assume this is due to her thinking archery is enough extracurricular for Mafuyu.

She attempts to pressure Kanade to do as she wishes, verses listening to Kanade or her daughter.

⚠️⚠️TW for section: Allusions of suicide and belittling of the topic⚠️⚠️

Kanade, in a DESPERATE ATTEMPT TO HELP, reveals that Mafuyu has said she wants to disappear. This game is essentially rated E10+, meaning even if they cover these extremely important yet dark topics, they have to change or adjust the language.

What does this mean?

Disappear = Die/Stop Existing

Mafuyu has ((as outright as she can)) said she wants to end her existence.

Kanade, a trusted confidant, hoped this would help her understand.

And Mafuyu's mother's response?

As word for word in English as we can get currently, it was:

"Maybe she had a bad day at school, or didn't get a good grade in a test, so she's been feeling down."

... Does this lady really think that wanting to die over a test grade is NOT EXTREMELY CONCERNING?

Later on, Mafuyu's mom says the equivalent of "I'll let Mafuyu know the correct way to respond to a bad grade", which is so demeaning to say.

((EDIT: Demeaning and THE PHRASING OF THAT RESPONSE IS CONCERNING AS WELL.))

As a person who's HAD these thoughts of wanting to disappear, I can guarantee that if my mom or dad did that, there would be blood. Most likely mine.

Kanade's response is so very god damn accurate to how someone who cares about a suicidal person would if they heard the person's "adoring parent" say this.

Utter. Shock.

She even goes on to think to herself, saying that she does not see

Mafuyu's mom caring for Mafuyu.

The fact that Kanade could even continue being a respectful teen* while telling Mafuyu's mom that she's horrible is astounding.

((*As respectful as she can be while attempting to call an abuser out.))

Hell, Kanade even subtly tells Mafuyu's mom that if she listens to Mafuyu, she'll notice the problem is her.

After hearing the reply, Kanade comes to terms with the fact that Mafuyu's mom doesn't care about Mafuyu.

"(...... She just assumes that she cares. Because——)"

After a sad but heartwarming, flashback, Kanade remembers how even as her own mother was dying, she put Kanade first when it came to Kanade's life.

Mafuyu's mom insists she does.

"Because after all, I'm her parent."

Which is where I would like to say:

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

You probably know it as the misquote people use more often, myself included — Blood is thicker than water.

The saying ((the FULL saying)) means your chosen bonds will always be more important than familial ones. Now, you can choose family to part of those chosen bonds, but then it is still BY CHOICE.

I think Nightcord at 25:00 is actually a very perfect representation of that saying. Almost all of them have FOUND a family in the others. Even if it took a while.

It's crazy.

Kanade even says she thought she could find some kind of warmth from her mother, but can't. How if this continues, Mafuyu will be tortured. How if it continues, Mafuyu will kill all traces of herself and become a marionette for her mom.

...And how she won't dare stand by and let that happen.

I'd like to note here, that Ena and Mizuki wanted to be there for this whole thing. And how Kanade was smart to go alone.

The whole event ends with Kanade standing outside the hotel cafe, trying to figure out what to do. We don't get to see Mafuyu, Ena or Mizuki.

Thank you if you read all this, feel free to add on with notes from other JP Nightcord events I haven't read ((I've seen the HonaEnaEmu one, Immiscible Discord, and parts of the Shiba Fest one, otherwise my knowledge is EN server events only))

And remember kids. It's okay to hate your parents! 😃

[avictimofthejazz]

Pat winces as the young lady responds to him in French. He is not surprised—he is in France after all—but once again he wishes he had studied the language better in school. Murph had always had a better grasp on it then he did… and ironically Murph’s in a place where he needs Spanish and Asian dialects mostly, while Pat is the one who is fluent in Vietnamese, but still has a shaky grasp on French. A moment later he relaxes when she seems to have a passable grip on English… at least enough that he will be able to explain the situation to her. “I am an American… and… well actually I was passing through on vacation. Came to France during service, and wanted to see it in a more peaceful light… and got tangled up with these idiots. They’re the ones who got me stuck here.” His heart sinks again when she promptly starts asking if he has seen her father. Though his first instinct is to stall again, and buy himself more time, he knows he cannot keep doing that. The young woman is clearly set on finding Maurice, and getting him the medical help that the poor man had badly needed. Patrick cannot keep letting her cling to a false hope like this…. Before he can consider how he wants to word his statement; Belle is suggesting names of his attackers. He frowns, unable to match her names to the faces of the men.  “I suppose one of them could be this D’arque.” He agrees cautiously. “I know it wasn’t Gaston. I tussled with him already, and he didn’t show his face this time. What does the other guy look like?” Belle turns her attention to the issue of untying him, as his own mind keeps returning to the terrible news he must deliver. The light is flickering, threatening to plunge them both into darkness at any second when the fuel gives out. They both have to work quickly. “Broken glass or anything sharp will be fine.” He tests the ropes again, but they still hold firm. He had only been half-conscious when they tied him up. If he had been awake, he could have taken steps to make sure the ropes were tied more loosely. Then he might have been able to slink out of them already… There is no point in dwelling on what might have been, however. He must deal with what has already happened. He winces as Belle frantically breaks the plate, turning his face away instinctively to avoid any flying shards. As she asks him where he is bound, he flexes his wrists. “Untie my hands, and I can take care of the rest of it.” As Belle settles in to work, his guilty conscious forces his tongue to deliver the message he has been dreading since she first appeared. It is better to simply get it out, and get it over with. “Miss Belle, I…” He pauses, trying to find the best way to word his horrible news. He falls back on military terminology after a moment, “I regret to inform you that your father died very early this morning. He was badly injured, along with the cold and his illness.” He pauses to take a breath, and to try to keep his voice even but gentle. “His last thoughts were of you. He was concerned for your safety, and that you would be worried for him.” What is not worth adding in this breath is that he commissioned Patrick to take care of Belle for him. Maurice barely knew the young man, but he chose to entrust Pat with the person he clearly valued most in the whole world. That level of trust is, frankly, rather terrifying.

Before the Blizzard--Belle & Patrick

@timeguardians

Continued from here

Patrick only has to listen to the plaintive calls for a few seconds to realize the person searching through these rooms is not his tormentor returning for another round. Whomever she is, she is searching for her father. The soldier’s heart sinks abruptly as he slots a few potential pieces together. There is only one woman he can easily think of who would be searching this ruined hulk for her father. It had to be Maurice’s daughter, the one who the kind old man begged him to find before he succumbed to the cold, and the injuries that should have been inflicted on Patrick. Guilt wells up in Patrick’s chest, mixing with dread about the news he will likely need to deliver in a moment, and concern that the young woman has taken herself into this dangerous situation rather than wait at home for news of her father. The combination is acrid, and his empty stomach rolls dangerously for a moment before he forces it to settle. Now is not the time for those reactions. Right now, he needs to focus on the situation at hand. He can wallow later. A moment later, a thin beam of light heralds the young woman’s arrival as she enters the room. The flickering glow settles over him for a second, prompting a frighted reaction from the young woman. “I’m not going to hurt you!” He tries to reassure her as soon as he sees her recoil in terror. At her tremulous request for his identity, he swallows. “I’m Patrick—Patrick Michaels.” Either his words assure her, or she plucks up her wavering courage on her own. Either way, she carefully raises the light again in an attempt to see better into the gloom. With the way the flame keeps flickering behind the glass, Patrick reckons there’s only a few minutes of light left. Not much time to get them both out of here, then. He glances down at the ropes, his eyes roving over the rough cords as best as he can. “I’m not sure—I’m a stranger around here so I don’t know all the names. I saw the guy around town though—he was a crony to some muscle-bound idiot I got in a fight with at the bar. I guess he figured he would impress the big down in town by dragging me in here.” As he speaks, Patrick debates when it will be a good time to mention Maurice. If this young woman is his daughter, she came here seeking him out. It will be cruel to keep her in suspense any longer than he absolutely has too. But first, he needs to get his arms free so he can defend himself if he needs to. “Can you find anything that can cut through these ropes? Or do you have a knife on you?” He asks the second question in a burst of futile hope. He doubts most women carry knives with them everywhere they go. Patrick had his own knife, but the idiot who tied him up decided to take it. He will have to go get that back when he has a chance—he likes that weapon.

[nkogneatho]

"𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐃!𝐂𝐊"

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

#m.list #series m.list #taglist #kofi

—cw: fem!reader, angst, smut, past trauma, abandonment, mentions of death unprotected sex, breeding, name calling (baby girl, queen), semi-public, mentions of alcohol, drunk sex.

—word count: 2.33k

—#𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖

#𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Your shitty parents abandoned you on a station. But you survived somehow for years, and ended up with this tall black haired hunk named Geto Suguru. He despised everyone else but you. He had enough room in his small heart for you. But you only realized it after a long time when his drunk self spilled secrets and fucked you good, claiming you.

Reblogs are appreciated.

Poor kids get abandoned here and there. No one cares for them. No one issues any complaints of them going missing, no one bothers if they see a poor child walking alone. Probably because you looked unhygienic to them. Your clothes were dirty, You hadn't bathed in days, and your walk was slow and creepy due to the lack of energy.

You don't even remember the faces of the parents that abandoned you. You just remember waiting at a train station with a rabbit keychain dangling, it's ring in your pinky. People did ask you why were you waiting there and asked if they could help you drop you at your home. But being both naïve and smart, you denied because you were taught not believe strangers and stayed there believing your parents might come. How foolish. Only if you trusted that unknown lady instead of your blood, then maybe your life would've been different. Regardless, you are glad to be where you are now.

“So, what plans do we have for today?” You heard a voice emerge from the kitchen as you mindlessly scrolled the tab that you were researching, on the sofa.

“We have to meet Sasaki-san for the exorcism. His daughter is showing all the symptoms of being,” you informed.

He walked closer to where you settled, his naked arms flexed as he pushed his hands against the armrest of it.

“So, what grade do you think it is?” He asked you in a soft voice. He always made sure to lace his voice in sugar before conveying his words to you. It was not fragility, but intimacy.

You but your lips trying to figure the answer, recalling the symptoms.

“It seems as if it's a B-grade. I would've finished them on my own, but we need this to capture more strong curses for you.”

You were building an army which was going to take long, but you were patient. In order to build a better world, a world Geto desired.

It was night and a call for celebration since you were almost halfway towards your goal. Everything was falling back into its place. But someone kept falling down. Suguru clearly had too much to drink. He has low tolerance, but the bartender kept mocking, so his hurt ego had to gulp down a few more shots before his legs became a wobbling mess, and his body weight rested on your shoulders.

“You didn't have to drink all that, you know?” He walked straight towards your car.

“Mhm,” he mumbled. “But he thought you were dating a loser.”

“Yeah, that was bold of him to assume we were dating. And secondly,” you opened the door to your car, plopped him inside, “low alcohol doesn't make one a loser.”

“You don't know this cruel world, y/n.”

“So who's gonna drive? We're both buzzed,” you asked while looking for your phone in the purse. You connected it to the car speaker playing 'The night we met' by Lord Huron. It was one of your favorite songs.

Suguru didn't answer your question. Instead, his lazy eyes were gazing at you. You could sense them while scrolling through the contacts to see who you could call to come and drive you two home. Scrolling and scrolling. But his gaze became irresistible and finally made your eyes contact his.

“What?”

“Just thinking how much of an idiot the guy was to think we're dating,” he answered, still looking at you. His words stung you. Were you that unattractive that he felt ashamed to be assumed that you two were dating?

“Why? Am I not someone who you'd date?” you asked.

“No,” he spat. You felt like you misheard something, but no. This was reality. Of course. Suguru and you always had a Platonic relationship. He was your savior and you were one of his important chess piece. It's not like you had a problem being that. Bare minimum has always been the most for you since the incident with your parents. You should be grateful to him. And you were.

“I see.” He noticed your face dropping when you finally broke the eye contact.

“It's because you're perfect. Perfect's not my type.” You were stunned by what you thought was a sudden compliment. But it warmed your heart too.

“What is your type? We've been together for so years, but that for me is still a mystery,” you asked, humming the song.

“Someone who is corrupted like me. Someone that can show me sides that I didn't know I had.” You once again tilted your face to him, noticing his eyes are on your lips this time. The song in the background suddenly got louder. Or was it the silence between you two that made it seem like it? What was the silence anyway? Was it you two thinking about something that you never had?

His hands were now lazily brushing on your thighs along with the smooth flow of the song. Your breath got heavy. You don't remember how it happened, but the next thing you knew, you climbed on his lap.

“I can be a little corrupted, you know?” Your fingers outlined his jawline, tilting them up.

“Mhm. Is that so? Do you want me to corrupt you completely?”

You did not answer in words. You answered in a deep, hard kiss. Soft lips, staining his in with your red lipstick. Moans emerged from his lips as he pulled you closer with his hand on your back. You have always felt safe in those hands. They were the one you held when he met you for the first time when you were scared. Those hands taught you how to use a cursed tool. And now those hands were holding your back in place, so he can explore your mouth. Silly little fingers started unbuttoning his black shirt. Although you didn't want it off him because he looked so fucking sexy in that.

“Impatient now, are we?” He grinned in the kiss.

“Fuck me. Please~” you begged. You begged. God did it turn him on so much. He never thought that you can say such filthy words. He always found it sexy when you rarely swore. But here you were now. Begging for him to fuck you. And he'd be a fool if he were to lose such a chance.

With no time-wasting, he popped the button of your shirt, exposing your matte maroon plunge bra. “Holy shit. Feel like I complimented your shirt for nothing. You look even better without it, baby?” Your cheeks burned up. Although you were unaware of what. The way that he was staring at your half exposed breasts, the compliment, or the nickname.

He didn't unhook your bra, but he pulled your boobs out of the cups that now rested under them. He licked his lips before mimicking the same action on your nipples. You felt them stiffened when he sucked them, poking his tongue.

While his mouth was busy, he unfastened his belt and buttons, unzipped and removed his cock out of his bottoms. Big hands reached yours and rubbed them against his cock. Embarrassment filled you when you felt him getting hard under your touch. You removed your hands, inched closer to his cock. With your skirt hiked up now, your clothed folds were grinding on his dick. The only moans you had heard from Suguru was when he brought some random chics home for a one-night stand. And dare the walls be so thin for you to slide a hand between your legs, dreaming that it could be you. Unconsciously, you'd been wanting to fuck him for so long. Yet, you realized it now. Though it wasn't late.

You moved the mismatched black panty line past your pussy lips, allowing your hole to be on display.

“Shit, baby. So wet already?” He cooed in your mouth. One of his hands traveled south where his dick was. Teasing your wet slit with his cock head, receiving a whine from you.

“Don't tease. Need you. Need ya in me.”

“You know, I fucking love how you always know to voice your needs,” was all he said before slipping it in you. Poor little hands held on to his shoulders for support. You bit your lips at the stretch, and he thought that was the naughtiest thing he'd ever seen.

“You're so big,” you praised, expressions somewhere between frown and amusement.

“Yet you're taking me like a champ. Just a lil' more, m'kay?” He grunted when your walls squeezed him. “There you go, baby. Keep sinking.”

“Sss. Can't anymore, Suguru. T—too big.”

“C'mon. I know you can do it f'me, babygirl,” he put his body weight in his back, causing the seat to lean behind, giving him more visual access to your shaking body.

Your entire weight rested on his thighs using the help of your hands. Meanwhile, his gripped your ass to lift you up and sink you back down slowly, making sure to stretch you out. Seven slow thrusts before his cock head found a perfect angle and space to hit your cervix. Being surprised with the unannounced action, your eyes widened as your bottom lip tugged between your teeth. Worrying he might've hurt you, he stopped. But to his surprise, you started bouncing on his wet shaft.

Suguru had to be stunned. All the girls he brought home and fucked them hard, grunting because he knew the walls were thin, and you could hear him. He made sure to narrate his actions, so maybe you'd get a little help if you were playing with yourself. He was so shocked to realize that after all these years of fucking other girls, closing his eyes and wishing it was your cunt, he finally got the real deal. Finally, the taste of the real fruit. And it was so much more than he imagined. No other pussy he fucked before could be compared to yours. You were shy, but you were also filthy. You weren't like those other hoes. Your cheeks burned up, embarrassment filling up your expressions, but your cunt said something else. As innocent your face looked, your pussy was ten times more filthy. Eyes stinging with tears of pleasure pouring down your cheeks but your cunt spilling juices on his dick that was too big for you fifteen minutes ago.

It was the same for you, you always wondered what Suguru looked like fuck you heard the headboard banging against the wall. Getting jealous of those bitches he fucked. Must be so good, since you heard them chanting his name like a fucking prayer all night. You barely got any sleep, tired of using your tiny fingers. But now here it was. His fat cock stuffing you like you always wanted—needed.

“God. Suguru! Keep hitting that and I'll—Ah. And I'll fucking cum.”

“Go ahead then, y/n. Make a mess on my cock. Wanna feel you cumming all over me.”

At this point, you didn't even care if your minuscules were visible to one or two people passing by on the empty street. It was dark, but your car light was lit enough to identify the indecent things you two were doing.

Your sweaty palms banged against the glass windows as your hips tightened. You chanted his name—just like those other girls would—as your orgasm hit you. Suguru had heard this name a million times. It's always “Suguru! Suguru fuck! Oh my god, you're making me cum so fucking hard.” Yet, it sounded different when you said it. Because others worshiped him as a god. While you stood equal to him.

“Sugu—Holy fuck! Do not fucking stop. Do you understand?” you grabbed his jaws. “Keep fucking me. Please. I wanna feel you cum in me.” How were you so captivating yet submissive is something that he had never understood.

It's this moment that made him realize what a fucking queen you'll make when he rebuilds the world. All the non-curse users dead, and all the shamans wrapped around your fingers. Because you already make such a great solider. Killing every human as he asks you too. Tracking every curse. You never once doubted his motives, unlike others. And that might be his favorite thing about you. About his queen.

“Fuck.” His pace increased, hips crashing in yours in an animalistic manner. It's like you flipped a switch in him.

“Gonna be my queen, babygirl. Once we get outta here, I am gonna fuck you—mhm fhhuck— fuck you all night in my bed. No. Our bed.”

“Wanna be your queen, Suguru. Please mark me up. Fill me with your cum.”

“Yeah? You want that? You bet I'm gonna. I fucking claim you right here,” and that's where his moves started getting sloppier. His grip on your waist tightened. It's like he was pulling you closer than it was possible, nutting inside you, painting your walls in his thick warm cum. Your head rested on his shoulders, his big hands caressed your back. He could feel your cunt overflowing and his seed spilling down his balls because he hadn't pulled out yet. But this was perfect. You would rather not be even an inch away from him right now.

“Holy shit, baby. You drove me crazy there,” he whispered in your ears.

“We have a long drive ahead. I'll drive you even crazier, so make sure to not pass out.”

“As you wish, my queen.” It's like you had flipped your personality. You were finally able to see the big picture. Finally able to dream of those things your trauma told you not to. A big world rebuilt by you and him. If there would be no humans like your parents, there would be no discrimination. A perfect world, indeed. And you finally understood his plans. He might have a small heart, but he has a big dick. And even bigger brain. Geto is a fucking mastermind.

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[lokisgoodgirl]

Say My Name: Clandestine F*cks [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader] 18+

Part of the Clandestine F*cks Collection A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: (24) There is a plan afoot, and you have a special request for you and Loki's (potential) last night of passion. (w/c 5k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Soft!Dom. Role Play. Bondage. Language. Thor cringe.

A/N: Thank you @lokikissesmyforehead for inspiring the Thor spell idea, and to @lokischambermaid for helping shape it. 🍆

You and Loki had talked until the dawn. You both knew what had to be done, but it didn’t make it any easier. “One last night, Loki…just in case” you had murmured against his skin this morning, still wrapped in the sheets damp from your lovemaking.

He slipped his shoes on, perched on the edge of the bed. You rested your chin on his shoulder. “Let’s do that thing...the thing you keep saying I’m not ready for.” Loki flipped his hair back, running his hands through those delicious curls with a smile. “It’s not that you’re not ready darling, it’s just that once you have tasted that particular side of me...it is rather addictive. And I’m not sure now is the best time.”

You raised an eyebrow, lowering your face to nuzzle his crotch through the soft wool of his suit.

“I think it’s the perfect time” you hummed, kissing along his thigh “to get you in the zone for tomorrow.” “Darling…” he groaned, as your teeth grazed the outline of his cock nestled beneath the fabric. “I have certain business to attend to. Important business. Remember?” You hummed against his rising erection, making his thighs widen. With a sigh you roused yourself, his hands cupping your jaw before you could even take a breath. Loki kissed you with an intensity that made your stomach flip, the smooth skin of his cheeks and chin rubbing against yours as he devoured you with his love. “Trust me.” he rumbled darkly, pressing his forehead to yours. “Remember what I said yesterday, and all will be well.” He stood, flexing his neck as seidr concealed the growing erection beneath his tight trousers. “Considering the circumstances, I shall acquiesce to your request, love. Tonight, we will explore my more...theatrical side, as you wish.” He turned, lifting the back of your hand to his lips with a kiss. “Do you remember the safe word?” he purred against your skin.

---

“Brother, I must speak to you…” Thor murmured, standing far too close to be anything less than suspicious.

It was just before noon, the common room kitchens were buzzing. Loki stirred his tea, purposely clinking the porcelain with a spoon three times before he spoke. “Not this morning, brother. Not today. My enthuse for the dramatic is somewhat diminished of late.” His voice was firm, the words full of pregnant intent. Thor shook his head. “Tis’ not about any of yesterday’s unpleasantness brother, I require...the spell.” Loki’s brow furrowed as his mind ticked over the calculations. “The enchantment should last at least another month, brother, you must be mistaken” he muttered knowingly, a smile tugging at his lips.

The blonde growled under his breath, turning to lean his face closer, his blue eyes yearning for Loki’s understanding. “Brother, I implore you. The full weight of my Asgardian appendage is present beneath my garments and I cannot...they are so tight.”

He exhaled heavily, bringing his fingers to his forehead, “I am meeting a Lady for brunch soon brother. It is our third outing. You know what that means in Midgardian customs...” Loki cast his gaze down to where his brother was tugging at his crotch, a bulge the size of a ripe cantaloupe straining against the oversized denim. “Fine.” Loki snapped, tilting his chin towards his sibling. Thor began to unzip his jeans. “Not here, you cretin” the dark-haired god hissed, his eyes flickering up to where Clint and Bruce were playing cards at the kitchen table. “Honestly…”

Loki spun on his heels and walked out the door, hearing his fumbling sibling following him, spluttering aimlessly. “You know the issue brother, her midgardian pleasure-pocket will never fit the gargantuan might of our natural state-” Loki stopped, twisting the handle of an empty conference room and shoving his brother inside. “Well?” he huffed, raising his eyebrows towards his oafish kin in disdain as he closed the door. “Get on with it.” Thor unzipped the remainder of his fly, hoisting the enormous manhood to hang over his palm like a soft-roasted butternut squash. He bounced it, making it ripple. A seal flopping on ice. “Impressive, isn’t it brother?” Thor said smugly. Loki rolled his eyes. “I invented this spell for myself, brother.” he said, looking down sceptically at the flaccid slab of cock in his sibling’s outstretched hand. “Not as elegant as my own, I must say. Rather more...rustic, isn’t it? How appropriate.” A smirk toyed at Loki’s lips, a glow of seidr beginning to radiate from his palm as he hovered it above the offending appendage. “It is only by the grace of my powers you indulge in any of this realm’s carnal pleasures, brother. Remember that.” “Eh-he-he, it tingles...” Thor chuckled, before the door swung open. “Wow-wow-wow hell to the no.” Sam held his hands up to shield himself, eyes shut as he froze in place with a grimace.

“What fresh hell is this?” His voice was high, his mind processing what he had seen. “You Asgardians really are some filthy motherfuc-” “Calm yourself, Wilson.” Loki muttered, as Thor heaved his flopping member back inside the cell of his jeans, squishing it uncomfortably down his thighs.

“I was merely about to perform a simple-” Wilson’s eyes flew open, a finger pointing at Loki accusingly. “I don’t wanna hear it, Laufeyson. First Y/N, now whatever this is...nuh-uh. Nuh-uh.” “Y/N?” Thor mumbled, his brow furrowing questioningly, “I don’t know why my...my brother would remind you of...of...Y/N. Certainly there are no shenanigans afoot between them if that is what you are trying to imply by your-” “Dude, the cat is out of the bag and scratching up the place. Took a shit in the tub too. I know, that you know about him..” he pointed brashly again at Loki, who winced, “and Y/N. Although that doesn’t explain whatever I just saw and dude you need to see a doctor like, immediately. Jesus.” He brought his hand to his brow, rubbing firmly. “WHAT?” Thor boomed, the button of his straining trousers popping unceremoniously to the floor.

Loki patted his shoulder, trapping the rogue fastening beneath his foot. “Never fear, brother...I have a plan.” he murmured, looking at Sam. “Actually, if I may be so bold...I would ask a favour of you, Wilson.” Sam rolled his eyes, beckoning Loki into the corridor as the blonde god’s eyes widened. “Brother?” he hissed as Loki walked down the hall towards the kitchens. “Brother...m-my appendage!?”

---- Darkness had fallen as you made your way towards Loki’s rooms. Maybe for the last time, you thought; quickly pushing the intrusion to the side. You remembered the first experience of tiptoeing along the winding corridors of the Tower, anxiously peering around every corner on the way to his ‘chambers’. Now, every sound was familiar. Every warning creak of the elevator an old friend as you avoided suspicion. If you were honest, it all seemed like a moot point now.

The door was ajar by a crack, a soft flickering of light emanating beyond the frame. You slipped inside, turning quickly and pressing it closed with a soft click. A hand flew to the door over your shoulder, spread fingers rising from an armoured sleeve. You felt his presence at your back, dominant energy radiating from cold metal across the narrow space; his measured breaths rising and falling. The scent of ancient leather filled your nostrils, as rich and powerful as the man they belonged to.

“What’s this? A mortal? Entering the wolf’s den alone?” The dark tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine, a cold tingle racing over your body as you felt a cool breeze roll around your thighs. Jeans and a t-shirt had been replaced by a dark, shimmering green gown. Your fingers ran through a fold in the fabric, as soft as fine velvet. Heavy footsteps retreated, his stare burning a hole through the exposed back of your dress. There was a heat in the room you hadn’t felt before. A feeling of space. A feeling of… “Turn.” You complied, gasping in wonder as ancient stone brickworks came into view. Loki’s familiar living room had transformed into an Asgardian suite, sprawling low backed furniture sitting atop the rough marbled floor. A raging fire burned on a hearth, placed inexplicably where his bookcases usually sat. The flames spat embers which floated in the air, drawn towards their master standing to its side. You met his darkened eyes like a stranger. The cruel smile curling at his lips making another shiver throb inside your body, lower this time. Much lower. Loki’s Asgardian armour was not unfamiliar to you, but his expression was. It changed everything about him. The way the firelight made the metal flash, mirrors dancing on his high cheekbones, raven hair slicked back behind his ears. Straight. Harsh. Accentuating every sharp line of his face as he stared you down, hands clasped behind his straight back as he flexed his jaw. “You know why you are here, girl?” “To please me” he continued matter-of-factly, titling his head. His voice was deep, saturated with boundless condescension. “Do you think you are worthy of pleasing a Prince?” “Yes, Loki.” you murmured, not knowing where to look. You felt your eyes roaming over his broad frame. The layers on layers of leather stretched across his perfect body, the overcoat swirling around his calves as he began to take slow strides towards you in those sinfully authoritative boots. His fingers shot out like a whip, snapping to the underneath of your chin and tilting it upwards. He looked down on you with haughty consideration, his eyes narrowing. “A girl hasn’t earned the right to address me as such. Until I deign it so, you shall refer to me as your Prince. Understood?” You nodded again. The gusset of the unfamiliar lingerie he had wrapped around your body during his transformation was flooding with arousal.You had expected him to channel his gravitas to a certain extent during the game, but at this rate you didn’t think you would last the night. With what you had planned for tomorrow, perhaps that would be preferable. “I need to be certain that you understand who’s in charge” he enunciated, circling around you. Sizing you up. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Loki sneered, running a finger down the naked skin of your arm.

You shivered, the mean edge in his voice making you doubt yourself. Your breath was tight, shallow breaths rising and falling, your eyes fixed on the leather strap wrapped tight across his chest. “Never fear, pretty thing. I shall not harm you” he murmured, leaning in and inhaling deeply against the tip of your cheekbone. “I am hedonistic, not wasteful.”

Your thighs squeezed together beneath the flowing skirt of your gown, pussy clenching as you fought the urge to throw yourself against him in unbridled lust. You cleared your throat softly, tentatively raising your chin to meet his burning gaze. “What does my Prince ask of me?” you murmured, seeing his eyes narrow for a split second before a tepid smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. “To do what your told.” His voice was laced with coldness as he backed towards the low built chaise, thick leathers creaking as he lowered himself; thighs spread. “Do you think can manage that?” he hummed mockingly, deeper than the Mariana trench. His sexually apocalyptic performance was laden with the haughty eroticism you had fantasised so long about. Your knees began to feel weak as the warmth of the fire buffeted against the simmering heat beneath your skin. You nodded. Loki raised two fingers and beckoned you lazily, features dancing with amusement as you hurried towards him and stood awaiting your command. “Dress...” he muttered, leaning back. One of his forearms draped leisurely against his open thigh, the fingers of his other hand caressing his lips thoughtfully. He watched like a predator as the straps of your green gown slid down your arms, the bodice edged south by your quivering hands. It slid over your hips before you let the fabric fall to the ground around your bare feet. “Beautiful.” he whispered above the crackling of the fire. "Turn" he purred, circling his forefinger in the air. Loki admired the way the flickering flames danced seductively across your naked skin, shimmering against the exquisite emerald green lingerie that hugged your cleavage. The matching silk panties clung to your hips, the familiar scent of your desperate arousal filling his nostrils as his hips thrust gently beneath the leather. “Well?” Loki’s eyebrow cocked, his superiority seeping through the air as his tongue held on to the final note of his mocking overture. “Kneel, girl. Have you never been in the presence of royalty before?” You smiled despite yourself, sinking to your knees and resting back on your heels. Head lowered. “Good” he hummed, drawing his hand away from his lips. They glowed, a familiar pair of leather handcuffs appearing dangled from his finger. Your breath hitched, running your widened eyes over the imposing figure looming above you, his winged shoulders impossibly wide. The sole of his heavy boot scuffed across the rough cut tile as he re-adjusted his position, leaning forward with one forearm balanced on his thigh. “Wrists.” You stretched your arms forward, the patches of thin skin pressed together. Loki slipped the leather cuffs easily over your delicate hands, tightening the cord with a swift tug. His fingers brushed over your forearms, lingering a second too long to be anything less than loving. He sat back, the solemn expression he wore so regally settling back over his angular features. “Pleasure yourself” he said, the syllables dripping from his tongue making your ass tighten. Loki’s eyes glinted with mischief as he watched you squirm against the ties. You slid your thighs wider on the floor, leaning back on the soles of your feet as your tried to reach the centre of your desire. Fingers grasped for purchase on your slick pussy, the tips brushing maddeningly against your hood, whimpers snaking from your throat as you reluctantly accepted the futility of your position. He sat smugly above you. He knows I need him, you thought. The strength of his fingers. The pressure of his tongue. The force of his cock. “So undignified.” Loki chuckled, “Are you having some trouble, pet?” He leant forward, the glint in his focused eyes glowing brighter.

“I thought you said you would do what you’re told. That you would listen. I never said anything about touching yourself.”

He pushed a foot forward, the solid expanse of his leather boots looking incredibly inviting as you raised your eyes to meet his. He gave a silent nod of acknowledgment, dimples flashing as he tried to contain a smirk. You raised your hips, shuffling forward several inches. Your breasts pressed against his leather-wrapped knee, feeling the firm surface nudge into your soft flesh. The curves of your bosom heaved upwards at the motion, a needy whine crossing your lips as you lowered your aching pussy atop his waiting boot. It was softer than you expected, the ancient skin smooth beneath the sliding wetness as you rubbed your core against the curve of his ankle. The space only allowed for your elbows to be bent, hands intertwined in prayer above bound wrists. They brushed against his knee with every soft thrust, smearing your arousal on the cold material below. The raw energy of Loki’s piercing stare was penetrating. His eyes never left yours as your lips parted; brow furrowing as you took your pleasure under his command. Under his control. “Does that feel good, pretty thing?” he muttered, as your eyelids fluttered shut. You moaned in response, every tug of the leather against your clit a wave of bliss.

“Would you release yourself over my boots? Pathetic.” He sneered, his voice enflamed; the condescension making you whimper as your head fell back. You inhaled sharply as he pressed his foot upwards, the flat top of the shoe cramming devastatingly against your desperate centre. “L-Loki…” you stuttered, dangling on the precipice of orgasm as you squeezed your eyes shut, realising your mistake. You felt his leg tense against your chest.

“-MyP-Prince.” you corrected with a gasp, hearing him growl as he pressed the flat of his boot harder against your delicate cunt.

“Enough.” he murmured, withdrawing the shoe with a scrape along the stone. You whined at the loss of contact, your throbbing pussy gyrating against air as you fought for relief. “So wilful” he tsk’d. “If you wish for your Prince to be merciful, you must do better.” A cruel smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Wait for me in my bedchamber.” he enunciated solemnly. You waited for what felt like an hour. Loki’s illusion had removed any trace of modern life, the clock that normally hung on the wall replaced by a solitary burning torch. His bed had transformed too, the familiar setup gone. A tall four poster had replaced it, a canopy of rich ebony hanging above your head as you knelt in the centre of the soft mattress, knees sinking into the sheets. Visions of what Loki had planned raced through your mind. He knew what he was doing, making you wait. Finally, you heard the steady pace of his boots crossing the stone, the long shadow of his armoured form crossing the boundary of his bedchamber before he came into view. He didn’t look at you, staring straight ahead before standing at the foot of the bed, gaze raising slowly to meet yours. His cheekbones flashed in the low light, fingers flexing by the sides of his long overcoat as he took a sharp intake of breath. “It seems I overestimated your ability to follow instructions.” he said, the measured words making you clench. He tilted his head, the eroticism of his arrogance seeping through the space between you. “If you will not adequately follow the instruction of a Prince, perhaps you will follow the commands of a god.” You shivered, the hairs on your arms standing erect. “Rise.” he commanded. You drew up to the full height allowed by your kneeling position, stomach fluttering with anticipation as a silk rope appeared, looping around the bedpost closest to Loki.

He leant forward, a palm beckoning towards you casually. In a flash your cuffs were tied to the short rope through a small metal hoop. The god held one end of the rope in his hand, giving it a sharp tug. You fell forward towards the bedpost at the swift motion of his fist pulling the tie, catching yourself as he chuckled darkly. You drew yourself towards the cool, thick wood; palms grasping at the smooth mahogany. Loki drew the cord tight, yanking it down as you hissed at the smart of the leather against your wrists. Your forearms pressed tight against your breasts, melding yourself to the bedpost as he leveraged you into a satisfactory position. You barely had time to adjust before the flat of his palm met your ass with a hard smack. You yelped, cheek sliding against the polished wood. “Who do you serve?” he muttered, watching as your eyes ran up his imposing form; his hand poised to deliver another blow. “You my Prince,m-my god.” you whispered shakily, as he nodded thoughtfully. His finger trailed lightly down your spine, making you shiver. The metal of his wrist-guards ghosted the curve of your ass, the sharp coldness making you clench. “Do you seek my godly mercy, pet?” he murmured. “Not y-yet.” you choked, begging him to tuck his wandering hand between your legs. “Correct answer.” he sneered, before bringing his palm down with a slap against your willing flesh once more.

You moaned against the bedpost, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you processed the after-shocks of warming pleasure tingling on your skin. “Look at you, presenting yourself for me like a common slut” he chortled, smoothing his palm across your ass as you pushed it out involuntarily towards his touch. His fingers toyed at the waistband of your silk panties, before pulling them aside with a hard yank. The fabric yeilded with a loud rip, fluttering across the bed. You trembled as his fingers danced closer to your entrance, sliding gently over the wetness coating your inner thighs. “So ready to pleasure me. To please me, aren’t you?” he purred knowingly. He didn’t wait for a response. Loki’s fingers slid easily between your folds, reaching upwards to trace over your soaking clit. You groaned against the hands clasped around the post, keening into his teasing touch. “Do you wish a god’s touch to satisfy you, love?” he murmured gently, the facade of his theatrics momentarily slipping. “Do you wish for your deity to deliver you from this torment you find yourself in?” “I am a-at your service, fuck...whatever you wish..my god..ahhhh.” The words broke between staggered pants, the slow rub of his fingers against your clit making you dizzy. You tried to manoeuvre his digits to your entrance, desperate to feel them fill you. “I want you to use me, my Prince.” you grunted against the back of your hand, eyes flickering the side to catch him pursing his lips. Fuck he was so handsome. So intensely powerful. That leather. Loki’s dark hair was brushed behind his ears, resting on his armoured shoulders as he tilted his chin upwards in haughty contemplation. A warrior-god on the eve of battle. He smirked, fingers withdrawing from your pussy as you groaned with disappointment. “Please…” you murmured pathetically, as he bit his lip.

His wet digits made their way to the buckle of his chest strap, deftly unfastening it with a flourish. Your arousal on his fingertips left smearing marks on the metal as he shrugged the overcoat from his shoulders, falling to the stone below with a heavy thud. A breath hitched in your throat as he kicked off the heavy boots, watching the flex of his thigh muscles through the tight leather of his trousers. Loki's chiselled stomach strained against the perfectly fitted tunic as he crawled on top of the bed.

You slid your bound hands up the bedpost, the thin silk rope attached rising at will. They stretched above your head as Loki’s large palms cupped your breasts from behind, his mouth fastening between your shoulder-blades. A knee nudged your thighs wider. “My god…” you groaned, hanging your head between your biceps as he knelt behind you, rubbing his leather-clad groin against your ass. You felt his proud erection tight against your skin. Hard. “Yes, my pretty thing?” His hot breath in your ear made you jolt against him, whimpers falling from your quivering lips as you rubbed desperately. “Please, L-my Prince…” you keened, “my god, my..- please, I..” He shushed you gently, running his large palms down the curve of your waist. You heard a rustle of leather ties being unwound, a low gasp from his lips as he grasped his engorged cock in a fist. Loki’s leather tunic pressed flush against your back as he guided his length between your legs. He raised himself upwards, the horizontal column of flesh pressing tight against your slit. You moaned loudly, relief so close and yet so out of reach. He chuckled against your hair as his mighty cock teased through your folds, sliding back and forth with devastating precision over your throbbing clit.

“So impatient.” he hummed, “I am a merciful god, remember? All I require from you is patience.” One final withdraw between your lips and he thrust upwards; filling you to the hilt. You cried out, bracing against the bedpost as his hands bore down on your hips. “Fuckkk…” he growled, pulling you back on to his waiting cock. It hit the back of your channel, walls screaming with pleasure as every nerve fired like crackling magnesium. The leather clinging to his thighs smacked against yours, his tunic sticking to the sheen of sweat gathering on your back as he took your bound form without mercy. A hand slid down your stomach, his long fingers massaging your clit as you pressed back on his manhood.

“Do not come. Do you hear me?” he grunted darkly between the slap of his skin on your ass. You whimpered into your arm as Loki leant forward, sucking a bruising kiss to the side of your neck. He had never done that before, it had always been somewhere easily hidden. Easy to explain away if seen. His teeth grazed the soft skin as he applied more pressure, a primal groan sinking in his throat as he fucked you against the wooden bedpost. “Tell me what I will do, if they challenge me. If they try to take what is mine.” he growled, withdrawing his cock slowly as his deep voice rolled around the room like smoke in the flickering lamplight. “Burn their cities” you gasped, as he rocked the wide tip of his pulsing cock at your entrance. He hummed approval, entering the first inch of his length with agonising precision. You groaned as he did it, the fires of anticipation making you clench as he worked your clit beneath his fingers. “Make them feel your...y-your…” You tried to slide greedily back on his cock, your ass meeting a swift, harsh strike of his free hand. “Rage.” he said, calmly; enjoying the whimper from your lips as you pressed against the bedpost.

He leant forward, the leather of his tunic pressing hot against your naked skin as he whispered in your ear. “What else?” “C-chaos. Fuckkk...God...uhhh.,, I-in-insanity” you pleaded, as he massaged your reddened cheek. He hummed again, inching his cock deeper with a low chuckle.

“Flames. Rage. Chaos. Do you like the sound of that little thing? Is that what you feel right now as I fuck you like trapped prey? ” He bit down hard on your shoulder, the sharp edges of his perfect teeth making you yelp as he bottomed out. The cord holding your bound wrists tightened, the leather of the cuffs tugging at the thin skin.

“Answer me.” he growled, vibrating his finger against your swollen bundle of nerves. “Yes...m-my Prince” you gasped, blood rushing to your core as you felt orgasm approaching. “My g-god..L-my Prince I can't-..” Loki panted in your ear as he felt your walls begin to contract. “Yes, you like the sound of that don’t you. Standing by my side as I burn the world for you, and only you.” He groaned, thrusting so deep that you thought you would break with every curve of his hips. Loki’s free hand travelled up your arms, covering your bound ones with his. “You are loyal to me, yes?” he growled as his moans of pleasure grew louder. The god humped against your back, pushing upwards primally as the fronts of his leather trousers caught against your damp thighs. “Only you...only- ahhhh, fuck...you, my Prince, my god, my ev-everything my-” “Say my name.” he commanded darkly, sinking another bruising bite below the first into your neck. “Lokiii” you moaned, resting your head back against his shoulder, his name like a deep breath after being held underwater. “Say it louder.” he gasped, his thrusts becoming erratic as the god's fingers pulsed out of time on your clit. You complied, the wanton syllables of his name filling the air as he groaned against your skin. “Min elskling..." he purred darkly, drawing you back on his kneeling lap, “J-jeg vil ødelegge...uhhhh-gods...dem alle." His mysterious words hung in the air as he rolled you closer to the precipice of orgasm with every lilting wave of his hips. “Loki...please, let me cum. Please…” you begged as he palmed your breast, pressing you against the leather of his chest. He chuckled, widening his thighs so that you slipped further onto his cock with a pathetic groan. His fingers rubbed your clit gently, playing with your rising bliss for as long as he could. “Scream my name when you cum for me, won't you darling?” he cooed goadingly, toying with you. It was not a request. “Perhaps then, I shall release you.” His name thundered from your throat as you let the coil that had been tightening since you first saw him in his Asgardian finery fly. It snapped; the excruciating pleasure rolling from your pussy like syrup, coating every inch of your skin with sticky ecstasy that fizzed and shivered under his touch. Your back arched against his chest, arms straightening as you pulled back against the ties.

Loki pulled you tight to his chest, burying his thick length to the hilt as he spurted inside you with a deep, wordless moan of guttural lust. All his deepest desires, his anger, his unbridled passion, his love; all unloaded as his hips juddered against your ass, filling you with his seed. Filling you with him. The rope attaching your cuffs to the bedpost disintegrated, making your arms fall to your lap.

Loki’s cheek pressed against yours, carefully releasing you from the binds. “My love…” he whispered against your cheek, making you smile as you pushed through the haze of your ebbing climax. He flipped you softly to lie back on the bed, the leathers clinging to his body melting to reveal the taunt perfection of his alabaster skin. Low flames from the torches illuminated his flawless bone structure. You drank it in as he combed a hand through his hair before lying on his side, lazily trailing his fingers between your breasts as you bathed in the moment together.

“Can I kiss you now, my Prince?” you murmured coyly, watching his lips twitch with a smile. He leant over your body, the muscles of his arms flexing as he encased you beneath him. Loki’s ‘theatrical-side’ had been sated. His mindset for tomorrow, prepared. “I will allow it” he murmured sarcastically, nuzzling his nose against yours before slipping his tongue between your parted lips. He waxed into you, the firm body moulding to your curves as the illusions around you fizzled away, the familiar furnishings returning.

“Is everything ready? For tomorrow?” you whispered, pushing a strand of his dampened hair behind his ear. Loki nodded solomnly, before placing a line of wet kisses down your chest towards your widening thighs. - Norwegian: Min elskling, jeg vil ødelegge dem alle - My darling, I will destroy them all. 😳

Tags @lady-rose-moon @mochie85 @gigglingtigger @aenvstelam @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbs @xorpsbane @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @loopsisloops @dustychinchilla74 @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @mrsbarnes32557038 @michelleleewise @vbecker10@imalovernotahater @lokiprompts @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @ladylovesloki @marygoddessofmischief @ravenwings73 @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lokisgirll @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @123forgottherest @soldeloki

[oneyeartowrite]

Eight Steps. Five Years.

Thought I’d try something a little more light-hearted with John. 

Behold, John on drugs...

************************************************************************

“Are you ready, Scott Tracy?” The Hood’s eyes gleamed. “Are you ready to watch the world burn?”

Scott struggled to free himself from the men holding his arms. One cock of a gun aimed at Alan’s head, and he gave up the fight, sagging forward in the men’s grip. Virgil and Gordon were being held in a similar manner, and the fight left them too. They shared a look of doom, passing it around each other one by one, but when they turned to John, he burst out laughing and covered his mouth.

The Hood had his finger hovering over a button. A button to launch a nuclear bomb, the catalyst to the world’s annihilation. He had them trapped in his bunker, poised to watch the end of the world play out in front of them. The horror weighing down in Scott’s gut attempted to pull him to the floor. Virgil looked to Scott for answers, Gordon eyed the gunman in front of Alan, Alan was pale-faced, muttering pleas under his breath.

They were done. Defeated. Yet…

John laughed again and slapped his hands over his mouth. He slipped them down, making his bottom lip pop. “I’m so sorry. I know I’m being rude, I’m trying not to be though. It’s hard, really fucking hard. Fuck, that’s a lot of swearing isn’t it?”

Scott double-took, and gawped at his brother. He couldn’t find any words, and neither could the rest of his family. John was unsteady on his feet, drifting forward, only to lurch back again.

The Hood lifted his finger and stabbed it in John’s direction. “What the hell is wrong with that one.”

Scott flexed his eyebrows at Virgil. Virgil mouthed ‘shock’ back but finished his silent diagnosis with a frown. John wasn’t one to break under pressure, and if this was his breaking point, it was a little alarming it came with a dose of hysteria.

One of the men holding Gordon sighed, “I kind of…. mixed up his dose.”

The Hood glared. “Care to elaborate?”

“I was supposed to give him a sedative to get him here like the others, but…I may have given him something else. Something,” the man coughed. “I use for recreational purposes.”

“It’s LSD,” John said. “I remember. It’s like my brain is crawling. It kinda tickles.”

“You’ve taken LSD before?” Gordon squawked.

“I was curious. Lady Penelope was curious…”

“Lady Penelope took LSD!”

John gasped, and tried to catch a speck of dust in the air. “Dust. Human-made stars. How fascinating.” He cupped it in his hand. “This is definitely one of Scott’s, it screams of stress. It’s okay little speck of dust, Johnny’s got you now.”

The Hood waved his hand. “Gag him or something. I don’t want him ruining his moment. This is when the world becomes mine.” He held his finger aloft, smiling to himself, but before he could press the button, John made a wrong answer noise. The buzzer sound echoed, and all eyes fell on him.

“I thought I said to gag that one!”

“World domination is never as easy as flipping a switch, trust me, I know. I tried the whole nuclear explosion, world war three route when I was ten. “ John dodged the gag coming towards him, knocking into Virgil who attempted to grab him. “I mean, it’s dramatic, kind of exciting, but you fuck the planet, you don’t kill everybody, and you’ll be long dead before it’s safe to leave the bunker. Like…your kids, kids, kids might get out of here, but they’ll have issues when they get to the surface. What’s the point in ruling the world, when there’s nothing of it left?”

Silence descended on the room. Broken only when John decided to act out a missile launch and subsequent explosion with his hand.

“KABOOM!”

The Hood stepped away from the button, gawping. He went to speak, but John got there first.

��What’s your second step?”

“Second step?”

“Yeah,” John stumbled forward, pointing at the button. “That’s step one.”

“No.” The Hood said slowly. “That’s the final step—

“No, no, no.” John scrubbed his face. He groaned and threw a look at Scott. “Can you believe the absolute idiocy of this man?”

Scott startled, “Um—

“You’ve gone about this completely the wrong way if that’s your final step. Call yourself a villain. What a disorganised mess. Genuinely, makes my blood boil. Look.” He wiped his brow. “Look at that, exasperation. What the hell were you thinking? Sometimes I think the only way a villain can win is if I become one.”

The Hood folded his arms. “I suppose you’ve got the full plan?”

John studied his nails with a pout. “I don’t mean to brag but….”

“John,” Scott said, carefully. His brother turned to him sharply, and he recoiled at his pupils, covering all of the turquoise in his eyes. John’s orange hair darkened with sweat, and trails ran down his flushed skin. “I…I think you should be quiet now.”

John’s face scrunched up.

“Most of the time I’m told I’m too quiet. I need to be more social, I need to talk, and be articulate,” he waved his arms, knocking the gunman trained on Alan. “But when I’m like that, it’s wrong. I’m not doing it right. Tell me, Scott, is there a right and wrong way of being social? I’m anti-social, that suggests I’ve made the choice to become anti, but that’s not true, I don’t like the anxiety, and the panic, and the self-consciousness, and the fear—"

“I would like to hear your plan.” The Hood said, carefully. “If you don’t mind.”

“Give me an incentive to share it.”

The Hood clicked his fingers. A gun was pressed against John’s forehead. Scott began struggling against the men holding him again, but stilled at the sound of the gun cocking.

John clacked his tongue. He cracked his fingers, then reached for the gun, not smacking it away, he grabbed it and pressed it to his head. “That plan is in here, in my racing, chaotic, brain, and sometimes I think blowing it out is the best option. “ The gunman darted panicked glances in the Hood direction.  His eyes widened. His bottom lip trembled. John sighed, swiftly moved his fingers, and the clip from the gun dropped onto the floor.  The loud thud was enough of a distraction for John to swing back his arm and punch him in the face.

He stepped over him and headed closer to the Hood.

The Hood retreated, giving John plenty of room. “It’s really hot in here. I’m sweating.” John wiped the back of his arm over his forehead and shook the sweat onto the floor. “That’s disgusting. Is there no aircon down here?”

“World. Domination.”

The Hood said, clicking his fingers in front of John’s blown eyes. John tried to bat them like a playful cat.

“Right, yeah. First, you’ve got to ask yourself what kind of world domination you’re after. You’ve got to think of time frame, and sustainability, and repercussions, but you just think, look at that shiny button, and the big rocket, and the explosives, and really, they are minor points in the grand scheme of things,” John threw his arms out wide, slapping a man in the face. He spun around, and the Hood ducked to avoid a palm to the cheek. “There are questions you need to ask yourself before you think about shiny buttons.”

“What questions?”

“Do you want a fully functioning society, or do you want a wreck.”

“Fully functioning—”

“Then no pretty, shinny, little buttons.” John crouched down in front of it. He touched it, tapped his finger against it, and everyone inhaled sharply. He rested his chin against the desk, stroking the button. “Pressing buttons is always so tempting though, right?”

No one dared breathe.

“How something so small can trigger something so huge? It’s amazing, isn’t it.”

Scott coughed awkwardly. “Maybe…move away from it.”

“Do you think so?” John asked.

“I absolutely think it’s a good idea,” Virgil said in a rush of words.

John cupped his ear. “What’s that Gordon? I should totally push it?”

Gordon launched into the air. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Sorry, that’s my inner Gordon speaking.”

John dropped to the floor, laughing. The Hood nudged him with his foot. “Let's hear it.”

“Hear what?”

“Your plan.”

John rolled onto his front and held up his fingers. “I’ve got it down to eight steps, five years, and I’m happy with that. Eos, three steps, one year, but she kills at will, and I won’t do that so mine takes a little longer, but you know, I don’t wipe out mankind with my eight-step plan I just,” John swiped at another speck of dust. “Move them elsewhere.”

The Hood crouched over John. “Move them?”

“Yeah, it really is hot in here, like, even the concrete feels like it's bubbling. Why is it so hot?”

Everyone except John startled at a piercing alarm. The source. Virgil’s wrist strap flashing up dangerous readings coming from John’s suit.

“How did you get them to…move on?” The Hood asked.

“No, no, no. That’s my plan, you’ve got to think of your own.”

The Hood pointed at the hologram of the globe turning in front of him. “I have—

“Nothing but a button. No plan.” John reached out and grabbed the hologram. It disappeared. One of the Hood's advisors yelled out in protest, but the Hood’s glare sealed his lips.

John twisted towards one of the many computers. “Let’s have a little thinking session between us, and see what we can come up with, hmmm?”

No one spoke. Virgil shuffled, showing Scott John’s readings. Scott widened his eyes and cursed under his breath.

John groaned. “Seriously, nothing? Alan, throw me a bone, you’ve got a brain cell and a sadistic streak, start us off.”

Alan glanced at Scott for permission. “Urm. A virus.”

“Brilliant Alan.”

He beamed at John’s praise.

“There are lots of different viruses, but you’ve got to make allowances for immunity. Some people will naturally be immune. There are also pesky scientists working against you, so I suggest you deal with them before releasing the virus. Some mass assassination, but that’s time and money, but then when we get past that, we’ve got to think about the type of virus.”

One of the Hood’s men cleared his throat. “When you say a virus, do you mean….like a zombie virus?”

Gordon pipped up, “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no zombie virus.”

John clutched the back of his neck. “Keep telling yourself that and you’ll sleep at night.”

Gordon recoiled. “What?”

“Let's release the zombie virus,” John said with mock cheer. “Now, we’ve got problems from the start—

“Yeah, Zombies!” Gordon shouted.

“No, the zombies are the solution, people are the problem. They’re resilient, not to mention some people have prepared for that eventuality. There are courses and everything, let's say we wipe out eighty percent.” John brought up a pie chart displaying eighty percent. “We come out of hiding, and the world, well, it stinks. Literally, all that rotting flesh and corpses are everywhere, and there are not enough people for the place to function. Then starts the infighting and the gangs, and the cannibalism because it’s far easier to hunt humans than anything else, and I for one don’t want to chow down on Scotty, he looks tough and bitter.”

“Hey!” Scott snapped. “I’d eat your scrawny ass first.”

“Virgil on the other hand, if I had to eat one of my brothers, it would be him.”

Virgil rubbed his temple. “Thanks, I guess.”

The Hood sighed. “Forget the zombies, and the viruses, I don’t want the world to be that much of a state. I need everyone to do as I say, that’s all.”

“Says Mr shiny button.” John folded his arms. “Anyone going to offer up any other ideas?”

Virgil cleared his throat. “Why dominate? Won’t being likeable and respected earn you the same rewards in the long run?”

John smiled at Virgil. “And that is why you’ve got the softest soul of anyone I know.”

Virgil flashed a shy yet confused smile.

“That will never work.” The Hood snapped.

“It will,” John answered, “But you’re talking about….” He tapped away on a different computer until a number appeared as a hologram. It climbed higher in front of them. “About thirty-six years for that to take effect.” He glanced at the Hood. “I’d say you have thirty-two, and I’m scarily accurate. I freak myself out with it. Genuinely. But thirty-two years for you.”

The Hood looked away, mouthing thirty-two.

“So we need a balance between the outright terror of a virus and the destruction that comes with it, and the nice guy smoothing out the ragged issues of the world, and that’s where my eight steps come in, but I’m not going to hand them to you. Work them out for yourself.”

“I’m starting to understand why Jeff kept you hidden away…”

John launched himself at a chair on wheels and whizzed round in circles. He stopped suddenly. “He hid me away because out of all my brothers, he liked me the least.”

Scott made a protesting noise, but John cut across him.

“It’s okay, Scotty.”

“Your father was an idiot for not valuing you.” The Hood wandered closer. “If you were my son, I’d be proud of you.”

John tilted his head, considering.

“That’s flattering and disturbing all in one.” He looked into the Hood's eyes, then hummed. “But it would never have worked out.”

“What?”

“If I was your son.”

“Why not?”

“Well,” John sighed. “I’d be the brains behind your schemes, and the world would be ours,  easily I might add, but then you’d grow paranoid knowing I could take it from you. Which I could because I’m a genius. You’d plot to have me killed, and because I would’ve already foreseen that, I’d kill you first.” He shrugged. “See. It wouldn’t work out, but thanks though, it’s nice to feel appreciated and I imagine for a few years you would be proud of me, and maybe there is a part of me that craves that, but everything has a time limit. Tick-tock.”

John leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. “Now, I’m tired. Hush everyone. Wake me up when you’ve figured it out.”

The door burst open. A SWAT team entered, shouting out commands. The Hood’s men dropped to their knees with their hands on their heads, but The Hood lunged, flicking the button.

The hologram of the world appeared again.

Everyone stared at it, waiting, but nothing changed.

John cracked an eye open. “That’s another thing about buttons, a snip of a wire and they’re useless…” He grinned at the Hood’s shocked face. “You have no plan, and now you have no button. Night night.”

He promptly fell asleep.

And upon waking in a bed on Tracy island, hooked up to a load of machinery,  with four worried brothers hovering over him, remembered nothing.

Scott ruffled his hair.

John looked up at him. Dazed, and still not one hundred percent on the planet. “Why am I here?”

“You had a little trip to the land of crazy,” Gordon announced. “That’s putting it mildly.”

Alan nodded. “It was totally awesome.”

“Scary,” Virgil mumbled, closing his hand around John's wrist to feel his pulse. “For multiple reasons.”

“But we’re really proud of you.” Scott kept stroking John’s hair. “You distracted the Hood with your manic talk of world domination, severed a wire under the desk to the kill switch and got an SOS out to Eos via the Hood’s network…”

“Eight steps. Five years.” John said dreamily. He closed his eyes. “And no use of zombies like Eos’s plan…” he sighed, “Then the world will be mine.”

The brothers passed around another worried look between them.

Scott continued stroking John’s hair. “I’m so relieved you’re not a villain.”

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1008: A Super Macho Beachy Day (SSBU)

1:34 p.m. at the Smash Beach's Picnic Area.....

Tifa: (Fluffing an Orange Pillow Up) Just a little more fluff annnnd....there. Pillow's ready for you now, Daisy. (Places the Pillow Down on the Long Picnic Seat in Front of Daisy)

Daisy: (Smiles Brightly) Thanks, Girl. (Grosns a Bit While Pulling her Casted Foot onto the Pillow in Question) You didn't have to bring a pillow out here for me. ('Whew')

Tifa: (Smiles Softly as She Sits Next to Daisy on the Other Sode of the Table) I know, but I just wanna make extra sure your foot is taken care of for your appointment tomorrow.

Daisy: (Sighs Heavily While Looking Up at the Blue Skies) Finally!~ I can get this case removed. It's been so loooong.

Tifa: (Starts Snickering) Daisy, it's only been a month and a half.

Daisy: So? It still felt like ages ago! (Crosses her Arms While Pouting) Slow days are the worst.....

Tifa: Yeah, but at least the healing process is finally done at the neck of time. Sorry you had to miss out on the Strikers' Leagues though. I know how much you like participating in those games.

Daisy: (Shrugs) Eh. It's fine. There's always the next few years down the road. (Starts Smirking) But no worries. Once the time comes, I'm gonna the biggest comeback ever! (Turns to Tifa) And I want you to join my team!

Tifa: (Eyes Begins to Widened in Genuine Surprise) You do?

Daisy: Hell yeah, girlfriend!~ I mean, have you seen your own kicks? They're almost quick and powerful as Chun-Li and Bayonetta's combined! (Place her Hand Around her Shoulder) Trust me, with your skills and my natural leadership, we would be a force to reckon with in the soccer field! So whaddya say?

Tifa: Well....It has been a while since I've played a soccer game....or any other sport for that matter....You know what? (Smiles Softly) Sure. I'd be happy to join your future team.

Daisy: (Smiles Brightly) Sweet!

??????: 'Sup, ladies~

The duo turns and see muscular, tan man with gray hair, wearing noting but a speedo grinning down at the two of them in a flirtatious manner.

??????: (Pulls Down his Shades From his Eyes) Fancy seeing you two here in this radical, sunny day today~ (His Teeth Begins to Shine Bright)

Daisy: (Already Weirded out by the Man's Presence Along With Tifa) Uhhhhhhh.......

Tifa: H-Hello! U-Um.....Who are you....exactly?

??????: ('Tch') Honestly. Do you not know who I am? The name's Macho Man. (Starts Flexing and Doing a Manly Like Pose) Suuuper Macho Man!

Daisy: (Grabs her Chin While Thinking) Macho Man....Macho Man.....Hey, aren't you that guy who lost to Little Mac more than once in the boxing match a while back?

Super Macho Man: (Immediately Gets Upset) NEVER MENTION THAT LITTLE TWERP IN MY PRESENCE AGAIN! I ONLY LOST CAUSE HE'S LUCKY!!! (Quickly Takes a Deep Breath Before Calming Down) Besides, that's all in the past now. (Starts Smirking Seductively) Right now, I'm thinking about the future you two will have with yours truly~

The self proclaimed macho man starts moving his pecs up and down before making them move faster and then turning around and making his butt jiggle, much to the girls' distaste.

Tifa: (Trying her Hardest Not to Throw Up) Wow! I uh....(Takes a Deep Breath Before Speaking) Listen, Mr.....uhhh.

Super Macho Man: Super. Macho Man.

Tifa: Right, right, Macho Man. Umm...We are.....really flattered by your.....affection towards us, but.....I'm afraid we're going to have to decline the offer.

Daisy: (Already Has an Annoyed Look on her Face) We're already taken. Go away.

Super Macho Man: ('Scoffs') Taken? HA! By who? A blonde, emo twink with abandonment issues and a wimpy scaredy cat for a Mario Bro? Who would wanna hang around with those bogus losers?

Daisy: (Angrily Slams her Hands Down onto the Table While Glaring at the Man in Question) Um. WE WOULD, ASSHOLE! I don't know what kind of frat boy, penthouse you've been living off of, but we just so happen to love our two boys to pieces, thank you!

Tifa: (Nodded in Agreement) That's right. (Starts Glaring at the Tan, Muscular Man as Well) And they're twice the men than you'll ever be.

Super Macho Man: ('Heh') Really? (Places his Arms Behind his Head Whole Doing Another Pose) Then how come those "men" of yours aren't rich and good looking as yours truly?

Tifa: (Starts Crossing her Arms While Rolling her Eyes) With all due respect, sir, but we think your looks aren't anything to write home about in hindsight.

Daisy: (Starts Snickering) Yeah. Look like an overcooked pot roast if you ask me?

Super Macho Man: A sexy overcooked pot roast?~ (Moves his Eyebrows Up and Down)

Daisy: ('Groans in Digust') No! A regular, annoying, unattractive one! (Sighs Heavily Place her Head onto the Palm of her Hand) I swear, where the hell is Little Mac when you need?

Super Macho Man: ('Groans in Pure Annoyance') Enough about the twerp already! Why do you have to keep bringing him up!?

Daisy: (Shrugs) I don't know! You guys fought before, right?

Tifa: Plus, you didn't really deny the fact that you lost against him. So.......

Super Macho Man: ('Scoffs') So nothing! Like i said, he only won cause he gotten lucky! (Crosses his Arms) I can totally take him down in five seconds flat the next time I see him! The same applies to your so called "men"!

?????: Really now?

Macho Man quickly turns around to see the blonde, emo twink he mentioned, holding a box of food and snacks in his hands while staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

Cloud: Don't really seem like a challenge, but I suppose punching that smug look on your face wouldn't be too much of a hassle.

Luigi: (Smiles Brightly While Holding Two Cups of Frozen Yogurt in his Hands) We're back!~

Daisy: (Happily Raises hers Hands Up at her Boyfriend) Weegie!~

Tifa: (Giggles Softly as She Gets Up From her Seat And Walk Towards her Boyfriend) Welcome back, you two~ Was the line getting too long for you guys earlier?

Cloud: Yep. (Kiss Tifa on the Lips) The heat from the sun didn't make it go any faster.

Luigi: (Gives Daisy her Frozen Yogurt) Plus, some of the prices for the food has gone up for the year, so it took a while for us to find anything that's more cheaper. (Turns to Daisy) B-But Daisy! How is your feet doing right now? Is it aching? You and Tifa didn't have a rough time getting here, did you?

Daisy: Babe, relax. We made it here just fine. (Gives Luigi a Cocky Smirk on her Face) And do you really think a simply foot injury could slow me down that easily?

Luigi: (Chuckles Lightly) Of course not. (Rubs the Back of his Head Back and Forth While Smiling Sheepishly) I'm just worried about the well-beings of the princess I love, as usual is all.

Daisy: (Heart Begins to Melt as She Happily Hugs her Man) You worrywart~ I love you too.

Luigi: Daisy, that's my stomach your hugging.

Daisy: I don't care. It's nice and comfy~ (Kiss Luigi's Stomach)

'Ahem' A-HEM'

The gang finally turn their attention to an impatient Macho Man, glaring at all of them.

Luigi: Oh! Uh....Do we...know you or....

The muscular, tan boxer was about to speak until.....

?????: As I live and breathe, it's Macho Man!

Everyone turn their heads to see Dedede and Escargoon walking towards the table together with a box of food and snacks of their own.

Escargoon: (Pulls his Sunglasses Down) No way. Is that really the guy Little Mac beat that one time?

Super Macho Man: (Groans Once More While Facepalming Himself) Can't I go one day without being remind of that half pint? (Turns to the Duo Woth a Glare on his Face) And my name is SUPER Macho Man! Get it right!

Escargoon: (Turns to Dedede For a Brief Turning Back to the Boxer in Question) Well, gee, sorry about that, mister. We just never really thought of calling you that in the start of your name.

Dedede: Yeah. (Starts Smirking in a Troll Like Fashion) 'Specially when your win and loss ratio isn't looking too hot nowadays.

Super Macho Man: ('Scoffs') What are you talking about? (Crosses his Arms While Looking Away) My track record in the ring is hella consistent.

Dedede: Oh really? Then how come in one match, Mr. Sandman knocked you out to sleep with one punch?

Super Macho Man: I....wasn't paying attention at the time. And he does that to everyone on the ring.

Cloud: Except for Little Mac.

Super Macho Man: (Glares at Cloud) I will punch you.

Tifa: (Immediately Gives the Boxer a Dark, Cold Glare) And I will break every bone in your body if you try.

Super Macho Man: (Gulps While Sweating and Being Scared Shitless by the Short Haired Woman) Noted.

Escargoon: Then what about the time you literally got knocked out of the ring by Bald Bull?

Super Macho Man: How was I supposed to know he was going to use his head to attack?

Escargoon: Does the name "Bald Bull" ever rang any bells to you? He always uses his head to ram into his opponents.

Super Macho Man: (Shrugs) I dunno. I just thought he was bald and look like an ugly bull.

Dedede: (Turns to Escargoon For a Brief Second Before Slowly Turning Back to Macho Man Again).....Riiiiiight. And then there's that match between you and Aran Ryan.

Super Macho Man: ('Uggggh') Don't remind me....He only won cause he's a shameless cheater.

Escargoon: Yeah. (Smirks at the Tan Boxer) But he still Molly Whopped your ass to next week.

Dedede: (Laughs Wholeheartedly) Ain't that right! Ooh! And that match with Glass Joe-

Super Macho Man: (Quickly Turns to Dedede and Escargoon with a Furious Glare) NO! Don't you DARE speak about that match in front of my presence!!

Cloud: Wait. Glass Joe. As in the guy who has over ninety-nine losses? (Turns to Super Macho Man) You lost to HIM once?

Dedede: Yeah! Last week!

Escargoon: It was one of the biggest highlights in all of WVBA!

Dedede: That man was cryin' tears of joy when he won that bout.

Super Macho Man: Oh spare me the sentiment bull crap! Croissant Boy only won that fight cause I was obviously feeling under the weather that day!

Escargoon: Then why did you even bother to step into that ring to begin with if you were sick?

Super Macho Man: So he wouldn't win by default. Duh!

Dedede: But wouldn't that been better than getting your ass pummeled on live TV? Where veryone of your fans and followers-

Daisy: (Whispers) If he even had one.

Dedede: would sat there and watch the whole thing play out?

Super Macho Man (Was About to Say something With his Finger Up in the Air Until Slowly Lowering it Down and Sighing a Bit) Okay. So maybe you do have a point there. B-But it doesn't and it never will change the fact that Glass Joe loser got himself lucky that night! (Crosses his Arms While Pouting) Would've make him add one more loss to his permanent record anyday of the week.

???: Mm.

Macho Man's eyes starts to open as he hears Cloud and the others talking among themselves.

Cloud: (Slowly Starts Shaking his Head) Couldn't admit defeat.

Daisy: I know, right? What a sore loser.

Tifa: We all have our moments of not wanting to admit our losses. (Turns to Macho Man) Even if some of us....have a punchable face.

Dedede: I bet if Little Mac was here, he would make him humble himself.

MM's eyes begins to widened by the mere mention that name as slowly starts to shaking in anger.

Escargoon: ('Scoffs') Doubt that. He'll probably go on and on about how he won over luck and we'll never hear the end of it.

Everyone: Yep./Uh-huh. / Sore loser at it's finest-

Super Macho Man: (Looks Up at the Sky in Anger) ENOUUUUUUGH! (Turns and Points at Luigi) You! Green boy!

Luigi: (Points at Himself in a Confused and a Tad Bit Nervous Manner) M-Me?

Super Macho Man: Yeah, you! (Sits Down at the Table While Putting his Elbow on it and Raises his Arm Up) Arm wrestle me, NOW!

Luigi: (Even More Confused) But.....why me exactly?

Super Macho Man: Your color scheme. It pisses me off!

Luigi: (Looks Down on the Black Tank Top and Green Trunks He's Wearing Before Looking Back at the Tan Boxer) I'm.....not really sure if that's a good reason to-

Super Macho Man: I DON'T CARE! I am not leaving here until you give me what I want!

Luigi: B-But-

Cloud: ('Sighs in Annoyance and Defeat') Just do what he says, Weeg. He's never gonna leave us alone at this rate.

Dedede: He ain't wrong on this one, boy. The man's persistent.

Luigi: (Sees Macho Man Crack his Finger's Knuckles Before Sighing in Defeat) If I must......(Sits Down on the Opposite Side of the Table) l I wish me luck.....

Daisy: (Starts Rubbing her Man's Shoulders With a Supportive Smile) Stay calm, sweetie. You can do this.

Luigi: (Takes a Deep Breath Before Nodding) Right. (Turns Back to the Tan Boxer in Front of Him Before Slowly Pullinghis Hand Out to Him) U-Umm....May the best man win?

Super Macho Man: (Chuckled While Grabbing his Opponent's Hand Tight) You better prepare yourself Player #2. Cuz I'm gonna show you why all of my fans in the whole wide globe call me the One and Only SUPER MACHO MA-

Five Seconds Later.......

Everyone free cheers for Luigi's speedy victory over the dumbfounded Macho Man in the game of Arms Wrestling.

Cloud: (Smirks Proudly at his Plumber Friend) Gotta say, Weeg, that was pretty well display of muscle strength you got there.

Dedede: (Smiles Brightly) Damn right! How gotten so strong like that?

Luigi: (Starts Rubbing The Back of his Head Back and Forth While Blushing and Smiling Sheepishly) I guess my daily morning workout routine really does payoff after all. (Turns to Daisy) And it's all thanks to you, dear. (Kiss his Princess on the Cheek)

Daisy: (Giggles Softly) You don't need to thank me for that, babe~ (Hugs Luigi Lovingly) I'm just happy to see you making progress. But makes me more happy....(Turns to the Tan Boxer With a Satisfied Grin on her Face) Is seeing you outta here! So bye-bye!

Super Macho Man: (Still Dumbfounded) .......................

Tifa: (Starts Snapping her Fingers in Front of Macho Man with Very Little Results) Uhhhh guys....I think we might've broke him.

Cloud: (Shrugs) Hey, if it means we don't have hear him speak for a while, then I ain't complaining.

Escargoon: Neither do I. I never really like that guy.

Dedede: Same here. Y'all wanna eat somewhere

Tifa: (Happily Nodded) Sure! (Picks Daisy's Crunches Up From the Side of the Table While Walking Away With Dedede and the Others)

Escargoon: I don't mind.

Cloud: It's a lot of moving, but sure.

Luigi: I....(Picks Daisy's Up From the Table) Gotcha! Ready to go?

Daisy: (Smiles Brightly) Ready as you are!~ Let's find a comfy chair to sit together, yeah?

Luigi: (Finally Begins to Walks Away From the Table as Well) Yes, ma'am.

As the not so Super Macho Man continues to look silent dumbfounded by what just happened, the second well known champ of the WVBA Mr. Sandman shook his head at him in the background before walking away, causing the tan boxer to slam his head down on the table.

@keyenuta

@cyber-wildcat

@albion-93

@ma-lemons

@princekirijo

@caleb13frede

@tampire

[ruthlesslistener]

I regards to the bug smooches headcanons, how does the royal spork pair figure things out between all the sharp pointy bits? What about the issue of bark between Drya and the White lady for that matter?

Oh shit I completely forgot to explain how bug kissing works didn't I (in my defense, I DID say that I'd go over it after I finished my physics hw, and I just did that)

For most bugs, I think kissing would be somewhat of a gentle interlocking of mouthparts? Or some aspect of gentle contact/pressure with mandibles, with more emphasis on this type of interaction being common among predatory bugs, as it is a show of respect and trust. For those with a proboscis, twining tongues (or would it be closer to elephants holding trunks?) is probs more common than nibbling on each other, but the general 'gentle mouthhug' aspect still comes into play. It's less like how humans press lips and more like holding hands, but with your face, and gentle massaging/pressure/grooming movements are also applied bc contact nice. If the gesture is initiated on another part of the body, like the cheek or the forehead, then there's a high chance that it may actually devolve into grooming, because that's just another form of affection- but I digress.

For PK and Lurien, things are admittedly a little bit complicated due to the discrepancies between their forms. PK's got the full predator build, with a complex mesh of mandibles all flexing about all over, while Lurien, as an anthro butterfly, has a proboscis and very rudimentary mouthparts left over from his caterpillar days. So for them, learning how to kiss was a learning process, where each had to find some balance with what the other wanted- PK wanted to gently lock mandibles and stroke them, with some gentle nibbles thrown in, while Lurien's more of the nuzzling and twining tongues kind of guy; if he tries to nibble PK, that activates his grooming instinct more than the 'look at me purposefully not hurting you bc i love you' thing PK has going on. I figure that after they're more settled, though, they would come to a compromise between the two where they sort of shift between trying to grab and stroke each other's mandibles and twining tongues based on mood/whether or not PK's prey drive is easy to activate (because him sticking out his tongue usually means he's either scenting someone or he's about to bite/lick something, so it can either activate his prey drive or his mating instinct)

For WL and Dryya, bark isn't actually much of an issue! I headcanon Dryya to be a mantis and for WL to have a mouth with a rudimentary jaw and radula (like a snail, kind of), so their kisses are close to gently exchanged nibbles on each other. Mantids are a nippy species, and WL's got a mouth that can emulate that sort of gentle pressure, so it works out for them. WL having tough bark and a somewhat raspy mouth is actually better in Dryya's case, because that means she has the reassurance of not accidentally piercing something delicate, while getting kissed in return feels like being gently groomed or nibbled in return

[bby-bo]

“Cocky Facetime Calls”

Atsumu is sorta smooth in this.  Does that make him out of character? guys im jk tsumu stans dont come for me pls p.s. I recommend Trip by Ella Mai or Stretch You Out by Summer Walker when reading this

Pairing: Atsumu x Reader

Warnings: sexual topics, primarily female/male sex discussed

Summary: Atsumu finds out that your past sexual history has been less than desireable, and he lets you know that he’s willing to break that losing streak for you.

“Wait- what did ya just say?”

A long sigh leaves your lips as you throw an exasperated look at Atsumu from across your phone screen.  

“I said-”

“Ya’ve never cum with any other guy ya hooked up with? Like ever?!!”

“Yeah. Like ever. Listen, I didn’t tell you this so you can just make fun of me alright?  I know it’s bad.  Trust me, I am more than aware” A dead look takes over your features as thought you’ve already given up, while Atsumu’s incredulous smile only grows.  

He sits back and just takes a minute to look at you, that cocky smile still across his face.  Even through the facetime call, you could feel the heat of that stare and you were once again reminded of how he got so popular in the first place.  

“Oh, come on- like you’ve never had a bad hookup before” The sarcasm dripped from your words, not believing that Atsumu’s had nothing but good experiences with his partners.  

“I mean, sometimes two people just don’t click well and that'll sorta make an experience “bad” I guess.  But I woulda still at least had a decent time with a girl I didn’t click with, ya know?”

“Yea I guess I can understand that...”  You internally cringed.  You hadn’t even had a half way decent experience- none of your past hook ups had ever made you cum.  It was like they hadn’t even tried.  Or in some cases, tried too hard and got so aggressive that you just faked the O’ to avoid the awkwardness of telling them to stop.

You were starting to think that the issue lied with you rather than your partner.  Were you just too hard to please?  Granted, you definitely were still growing into your voice in the bedroom, and often times you were just too shy to say exactly how you wanted the other person to perform on you.  

In your mind there was just no smooth or sexy way to say “quit jack hammering my vagina with your fingers please” or “angle your dick lower when you fuck me you’re missing the good spot by a mile”.  Your face took on the slightest of blushes just thinking about it- there was no way you could ever say anything of the sort, especially not after the mood has been set.  

“Well ya know sweetheart, I have a certain rule that sets me apart from the rest.  And so far my reviews have been very good”. Atsumu smiled to himself, cockiness and self assurance dripping from every word.

You offered him a look of ‘seriously?’ and you rolled your eyes despite the small laugh that escaped.  Always such a cocky bastard.

“Don’t ya dare gimme that look- I’m serious!  The ladies love me for a reason sweetheart, I’m telling ya the reviews don’t lie”. He opened his arms wide, biceps flexing slightly as if to say ‘look at me, would I lie to you?’

“Oh you are totally the type to ask a girl for a full review the day after you hooked up”. You were half joking, but the sheepish look on Atsumu’s face confirmed enough.

“I do not!  The girls just love me enough to always hit me up the next day.  Comin’ at me with the “I had such a great time, yer the best fuck I ever had ‘Tsumu!” I don’t even hafta ask for reviews, I’m good enough that they just come to me anyways”

He even lifted his voice to imitate that of a very high pitched girl’s voice.  If you thought Atsumu was cocky before, now he was exposing his entire God-complex.

“You’re so full of shit, I can’t believe a single word out of your mouth right now Tsumu” You were full on laughing now, zero thoughts about potentially tearing his self confidence down; he could probably be knocked down seventeen notches and still have cockiness left to spare.  You sighed, but just to satisfy your own curiosity you asked the question you’d been secretly dying to know.  

“So what is this “rule” that you have for yourself anyways?  Something I should be looking forward to?”  You tried your best to hide your curiosity with teasing words, but that passed right over Atsumu’s head.

“I knew ya were gonna ask.  And yes sweetheart, this is somethin’ I know you’ll enjoy.  My rule is that the girl has to cum before I fuck her.”

Is he for real?  How come nobody else has a rule like that?? Wait a second-

“I thought you said you were an impatient guy.  That’s bullshit, how could you be both extremely impatient but also patient enough to put your partner first” It was more of a statement than a question, but once again the comments bounced right off Atsumu’s ego.

He laughed out loud before replying, “Baby, I would take all the time in the world to make ya cum just to see yer face before we ever get to fucking.  Outside of sex I suppose ya could say I don’t like waitin’, but with a girl i’m interested in? That would all change just to see ya melt beneath me”

You almost expected him to come right out and say he was joking.  How could he say all that with a straight face?  His eyes deepened to such a dark brown that their gaze combined with the searing heat of his voice had your heart beat quickening and your breath subconsciously tripping.  

You could hardly even come up with a response, his eyes still watching your face’s every move as if he predicted your reaction.  If Atsumu had been saying any of this in person, you were positive your entire face would’ve burst into flames.  

Even just through the little speakers on your phone, his voice carried through with such a deep timbre that you felt as though he was speaking directly into your ear, his mouth just brushing the shell of your ear as he pushed your hair softly away from your neck-

“That was the cutest reaction ever” Atsumu’s serious face broke into a charming smile, his eyes still never leaving his phone screen, still staring at your attempts to hide your blushy smile.  You still couldn’t get any words out- how was someone supposed to respond to that anyways without completely embarrassing themselves?

“D-Don’t make fun of me you jackass”  You laughed a little at your own expense, trying to break the building tension within yourself.

“I ain’t teasin’ ya cutie.  Yer just makin’ some real cute faces so I had to tell ya.  Yer fucking adorable”.

Aaand there he goes again, saying things like that with no hesitation.  How does he even come up with line after line on the spot like that?  There’s no way anyone is that smooth and has the confidence to- actually?  If there was one guy on this planet with an ego big enough to carry those words smoothly without embarrassment, it was Atsumu.  

Under normal circumstances, you probably would’ve cringed and called Atsumu out for having a head too big for his shoulders.  But right now?  At 2am on facetime, with your room dark and only Atsumu’s handsome features to talk to?  It was hard to say that he had no effect on you.  In fact it was probably safe to say that if you weren’t sober, you would definitely be inviting him over right about now.  But sober you did not have the balls for that so you would just have to settle.

Almost as if he could see your thoughts, Atsumu continued his explanation of his special rule.  

“Your pleasure is my pleasure, ya know?  I love having the knowledge that I can reduce ya to nothing but a wining, begging mess for me.”

“This is how you ended up with an ego so fucking huge”

“Yea maybe, but hey- at least ya know for sure that you would cum if I fucked you sweetheart”. A smirk split across his face as one brow lifted into that cocky look that fit him so well.  

You weren’t sure how much more of this you could take.  On one hand, having someone throw all these sexual innuendos at you was torture.  But on the other hand?  It was really, really hot.

And you certainly weren’t imagining Atsumu visiting you on your college campus.  And certainly not thinking about him laying you out on your bed in front of him.  No way.  

“Well, we’ll just have to see about all of that.  Won’t we?”  Somehow you got the words out without stuttering, even though your cheeks were still pink.  His smirk widened just the slightest bit before saying,

“I guess we will sweetheart”

A few short moments later Atsumu hung up, with 2:15 am approaching quick and his 10 am morning practice looming over head for tomorrow.  With that, you were left to your own devices.  Quite literally.  

You just couldn’t get the mental images out of your mind.  Atsumu laying you down on your bed, spreading your legs open for him to settle between them.  His fingers stretching over the skin of your thighs, only to bring them over his shoulders as his head went low and close to your dripping sensitive place.  

You felt a shiver run through you, your entire body a little feverish.  Abruptly opening your eyes, you rolled over to the side of your bed and opened the drawer of your nightstand to find your replacement for Atsumu for the night.  Settling back into the pillows, you clicked the ‘on’ button and closed your eyes.

[gumnut-logic]

Preen

Okay, this is 4000 words of fluff dripping with so much sop, it is almost pure liquid. It doesn’t really go anywhere, and it refused to come to a neat ending. So yeah, FishTank with just a dash of Earth and Sky in the middle, all wrapped up in the Marks & Wings AU.

I was desperate to write some comfort and M&W is my go to for self indulgence, so that’s what we have. Blatant Virgil comfort fic :D

Many thanks to  @janetm74​ and @tsarinatorment​ for the read through and support, but I would also like to say a very big thank you to all of the Thunderfam who sent me so many kind well wishes on Monday. I’m feeling better and the writing muscles seem to be flexing okay at this point, so maybe, if you like Marks & Wings, please consider this a bit of a thank you fic. And for those of you who don’t find this AU to be your cup of tea, I hope I can write you something you like in the near future. ::hugs you all:: You are all so kind and amazing to me.

I hope you enjoy whatever this is ::extra hugs::

-o-o-o-

“Virg, let me do it?”

Virgil brushed his fingertips through the length of one of his black flight feathers. Its root twinged, both with irritation and the ache of bruising, but he found the grass seed responsible and a pair of fingernails scraped it out and dropped it onto the locker room floor.

The relief was wonderful.

Only a thousand or so more to go.

A sigh. “Do what?” He started working on the next grass seed. Honestly, grass was evil and he was ever so thankful there was very little of it on the Island.

“Preen your feathers.” Gordon was standing in his swim shorts watching Virgil poke at his wings. “I want to help.”

Another grass seed fell to the floor. “It wasn’t your fault, Fish.”

“You still saved my ass.” A hesitant and emotional breath. “I want to help you.”

Scott was usually the one who helped each brother preen. ‘Smotherhen’ was a very appropriate name when he had his feathers out. Virgil helped Scott when he had issues. But feathers were sensitive and preening a deeply personal thing, much like bathing.

And Gordon didn’t have feathers and didn’t know what it felt like.

“You know I help Allie sometimes.”

The honesty and concern in those russet eyes were ever so strong.

“Okay.”

The small smile that spread on Gordon’s face lit up his eyes.

Virgil ripped another grass seed from his plumage and bruises twinged. Ow. “Be gentle. There are a few...bruises.”

The smile disappeared. “Are you hurt?”

Virgil sighed. Gordon had managed to get all the rescuees onto the rescue rig, but an explosion had destabilised the building before he could jump off himself. The result had seen his fish brother pinwheeling towards hard concrete.

Virgil hadn’t hesitated, his wings out before thought. Launching off the rescue rig, he’d swooped through smoke and caught his little brother midair. But another explosion had thrown him off pace and the result was Virgil curled protectively around Gordon and tumbling through a field full of weeds.

And grass. So much ripe seeding grass.

So not only was he aching all over from a shitty landing that could have, but somehow didn’t, seriously broken something, his wings were also full of contaminants.

The flight home had been hell. Even hidden in his mark, they itched, irritated and tormented him.

To finally be home and able to attend to the mess was a relief in itself, but not so much as getting all those damned seeds out. If Scott had been here, there would have been a lecture, but so much help.

Eight metres of feathers was a lot to attend to.

But Scott was on Three with Alan, so it was just him and Gords, an equally caring but inexperienced brother.

Virgil stretched out his right wing. It groaned and complained, forcing a breath from him. “Just aching bruises. I’m fine, Gords. Honest. Getting these seeds out will help a lot.”

Gordon held up his hands. “Tell me what to do.”

So Virgil did. He guided his brother’s hands to a feather, pointed out the snag and showed him how to use his fingernails to brush it out, how to align the feather into its correct position, and outlined how he would wash them himself and work a light preening oil over them after his shower.

Gordon listened ever so attentively and Virgil had to admit, it was a relief to have another set of hands working through his feathers despite the ache.

Gordon, for all their brotherly ribbing, was ever so gentle when he wanted to be. Virgil had seen him caring for children and babies out in the field and he trusted him with so much. His feathers were nothing in comparison.

More grass seeds fell to the floor. They would be vacuumed up and destroyed lest they contaminate the Island which was why Virgil was doing this in the locker room rather than anywhere else. There were decontamination facilities here of multiple types.

“Sit down, Virgil. Let me do this.”

Virgil blinked. “It will get done faster if we both do it.”

“You need to rest. And don’t tell me otherwise, or I’ll grab the scanner and prove my point enough to call in Grandma.”

His shoulders dropped. “Gordon...”

“Sit down, bro.” A hand on his wing shoulder. “Please.” Gordon really knew how to throw those puppy eyes around. To top it off, Gordon grabbed an office chair and wheeled it in so Virgil didn’t have to sit on the hard bench.

The upholstery looked soft and inviting – a sign that Virgil was obviously desperate. It was only one of the many type chairs in the villa and nothing special.

He must be tired.

“Fine.” Virgil groaned as he took the chair and straddled it backwards, letting the back rest support his front while his wings had total freedom.

Gordon was right. That tumble of a landing had punched the wind out of him. It had been a shitty rescue to begin with. The fall had just topped it off.

Fortunately, Gordon was fine. Virgil had used that entire eight metres of feathers to wrap around and protect his brother, curling them up into a ball that rolled, shedding harmful momentum.

But there were scrapes and bent feathers and bruises.

So many bruises.

Virgil winced as Gordon tugged on one. “Sorry! A stubborn burr. It’s out now.”

Virgil closed his eyes. “Is fine.”

Gordon’s fingers gently moved between primaries, methodically examining and removing irritants.

It was quite nice to have someone else taking care of his feathers. Gordon’s touch caressed jangled nerves, untangled snags and lined up vanes one by one. The relief was palpable and relaxing.

Virgil sagged ever so slowly where he sat, his head falling onto his arms.

At some point he realised Gordon was humming. Just softly and a familiar tune. It took a solid few minutes for Virgil to connect the notes and come up with the composition he had created for Grandma’s last birthday.

Gordon had a good voice. He wasn’t ashamed to use it either. Unfortunately, his choice of repertoire left much to be desired. His best usually involved an ancient sea shanty, a genre his fish brother actively took an interest in. At his worst, it was something like the ‘I’m too sexy for this shirt’ song from last century.

His little brother had blown a few shirt buttons the last time he danced to that one. If he’d known that Alan would film it and send a copy to Lady Penelope, then perhaps he wouldn’t have danced so...exotically.

Alan was still suffering the fallout from that episode.

Lady P was still smiling.

Virgil couldn’t help smiling, too.

“Got something on your mind?” Gordon startled him. “When’s Tin due back?”

“Gordon...”

“What? I know you have a thing for our lovely security chief. Just asking.”

“Well, don’t.”

But even that poke in the ribs couldn’t disturb him that much. Gordon was doing a great job cleaning his feathers and Virgil lost himself in the sensation of being cared for.

Gordon must have realised that his brother had found peace because he didn’t say anything further, just hummed away as he worked.

Virgil ended up with his eyes closed, his shoulders relaxed and his wings drooping on the floor.

He was vaguely aware of Gordon sweeping up detritus and for a moment, he put enough energy in to lift his wings off the concrete properly.

“I think I’ve got most of them.” His brother brushed his fingers gently through feathers, skipping across his secondaries, up to his lesser coverts and onto the down that tracked over his shoulders and back.

Virgil shivered at his touch.

“Virg?”

He pushed himself up, staggering to his feet. “Gotta go wash.” Gordon grabbed him as he wobbled.

“You sure about that?”

“Will be more comfortable.” He had to remind himself that Gordon didn’t know. Or maybe he did. Virgil felt suddenly felt guilty for not having had such a discussion with his little brother in the past.

“I can understand that, but you’re dead on your feet.”

Virgil forced himself to stand up straighter and everything ached. He experimentally flapped his wings just a little. So much better.

But they were still dusty.

“A quick rinse and dry. That’s all.”

Gordon looked ready to go for that scanner again.

Virgil sighed, half folded his wings and headed for the specialised wet area designed for just this activity.

He closed the doors between his brother and himself.

“Virg?”

“I’m fine, Gordon. I won’t be long.” Something obviously had the fish worried. Virgil closed his eyes and let his wings droop. They were heavy.

He gave himself that moment, before shucking off his pants and throwing them in the laundry chute. Lifting his wings again, he walked to the wall, punched in a temperature and set the fine spray running.

Walking into the warm water was bliss.

He may have lost himself for a moment or two between soap and spray.

“Virg? You okay in there?”

He startled and realised he had been standing there, half asleep for he didn’t know how long.

But he was clean. Thank goodness. Soap had been applied to skin and water had washed the dust from his feathers.

This, of course, made them heavier, but only for a short time as he switched the spray off and activated the blow dry.

Warm air evaporated the moisture off his wings. He flapped them repeatedly and they complained. But the water fell and soon he was as dry as he could be.

With a sigh, he carefully folded his pinions and let them go.

As always, it was a rush of sensation as they disappeared and his centre of gravity shifted abruptly. So tired, he staggered to one knee with a groan.

So many bruises.

“Virg, goddamnit.” His brother was suddenly there.

It wasn’t a gasp. It wasn’t. Really. “You ever heard of knocking?”

Yellow light flickered over him and he groaned. “Gordon, I’m fine. Just need some sleep.” He pushed himself off the floor.

A towel was shoved into his stomach. “Put this on. We’re going to see Grandma.”

Virgil clutched at the towel. “Why?”

Gordon held up the readings on the medscanner. “You tell me.”

Virgil stared at the numbers and the diagram representing his body. “Just some bruising.” Perhaps some imbalances. Nothing sleep and a good meal couldn’t fix.

The thought of food turned his stomach over. Maybe just a drink.

“I’m fine, Gordon. Feathers were a bit messed up. Broke a couple and gained some bruises. There is nothing a simple painkiller and bed won’t fix.”

He wrapped the towel around his waist anyway and strode towards the doors.

“Virgil-“

“Gordon, please.”

“Didn’t you say you needed to oil your feathers?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“I could do it for you now.”

Virgil closed his eyes again. God, he was tired. “You can help me tomorrow. Now, I’m going to bed.” He shoved the doors open further and strode through. His uniform was still on the bench, but he’d stash that tomorrow as well.

Gordon hurried to catch up with him and followed him to his rooms.

“You’re stalking me, Gords. I’m going to get weirded out.”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror yet?”

“What? Why?”

He had been about to shed the towel and don his pyjama pants, but wasn’t used to the audience.

Gordon grabbed him gently by the elbow and led him over to his full-length mirror.

His reflection looked as tired as he felt. “What is your point, Gordon?”

His brother turned him side on, the black etching of his mark wrapping around his biceps and shoulder…was mottled.

Virgil twisted further around and found his mark to be a patchwork of red and blue up and down the length of his torso.

That explained the ow.

“I would really prefer Grandma to take a look, Virgil.”

“It’s just bruising.” No matter how spectacular.

“We fell from quite a height.”

Virgil looked over at his brother. “This is not your fault, Gords. You know that. A few bruises are nothing compared to your safety.”

“But what about your safety?”

“I’m fine.”

“Then why won’t you let Grandma have a look?”

“She doesn’t need to. There is nothing to look at.”

Gordon stared at him and something flickered in his eyes. “Fine. But I want you to let your wings out before you go to bed.”

Virgil blinked. “Why?” He had just let them go and that had hurt enough.

“I want to check to make sure all the burrs are gone.”

“We’ve already done that.”

“I want to give them another look, just to make sure.”

Virgil eyed him. “There is not enough room in here.” He gestured around his bedroom.

“Then we’ll go into the living room and set up a lounger.”

“So Grandma can accidentally find me there?” Virgil frowned at his brother.

“Nooooo.”

Virgil glared at him. He was up to something, he was sure of it. But Virgil didn’t have the energy to pursue it and honestly, he did trust Gordon. He knew enough to know that feathers were no joking matter.

Ever.

Not after the incident with Scott all those years ago.

That had not been funny at all.

And there was something in his brother’s eyes. Honest concern.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Entering the living room, Virgil was surprised to find that it was evening and the sun was gilding the Island. A gentle breeze was blowing off the caldera and the birds on Mateo were warbling as they settled down for the evening.

Virgil stood on the balcony barefoot, shirtless and just let it soak in. The breeze ruffled his hair and caressed aching skin.

“Virg? Come lay down.”

He blinked and turned to find Gordon standing beside a lounger with a thick mattress and several pillows.

“Gordon, why are you doing this?”

“I want to help. You got hurt because of me. Please help me fix it, even just a little.”

“It was not your fault. Just a shitty rescue.”

“You’re in pain.”

“It’s nothing, Gords, honest.”

“Will you please just lift and lie down.” There was just a touch of warning in his little brother’s tone. Gordon had a streak of their father in him almost as much as Scott did.

Fine.

But Virgil glared anyway.

Before he could think about it too much, he hunched and lifted.

And Gordon had to catch him or he would have fallen. God, that hurt. Only bruising, but ow.

Gordon had caught him under his arms. “Virg? You with me?” Worried brown eyes peered up at him.

“I’m fine.” But it was rasped out. His wings were still folded and a mass of ache, dragging on the floor.

“C’mon, let’s get you lying down.”

Virgil grunted. The divan suddenly looked so much more inviting. The pillow was soft beneath his cheek as he finally lay down on his belly. He let out a breath and every aching muscle relaxed into the soft mattress. Where had his brother found it? It was heaven.

“Spread your wings for me, Virgil?”

He blinked, almost on the edge of sleep. “Mmm-hmm...”

“This is the last I’ll ask of you, I promise. Spread your wings and then you can sleep.”

Sleep.

Ever so stiff, his pinions ached and creaked as he unfolded and extended them out. Gentle hands caught his left wing and guided it down to a soft surface. Footsteps around him and his right wing was gently nudged to an equally soft landing.

A hand on his shoulder and a finger brushed hair out of his eyes.

Ever so quietly. “Sleep, big brother.”

Virgil let his wing shoulders relax and mumbled into his pillow.

Gordon snorted just softly and a moment later a light blanket was laid over his legs. “Your modesty is safe. Now sleep.”

Mmph.

But Gordon was running his fingers through the fine down on his shoulders and Virgil was too tired to resist.

He slipped away.

-o-o-o-

“He’s okay, Gordon.”

The voice was his beloved grandmother, whispering. “He has some bruising and a few electrolyte imbalances. He just needs rest and possibly a painkiller.”

“He won’t take them, you know that.” A shaky breath. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, honey. What about you? You took the fall as well.”

“I’m good, Grandma.”

There was silence for a moment and Virgil drifted.

“He saved me.”

“You boys have a habit of doing that.”

“Grandma...”

“You fell. Your brothers can fly. Of course they are going to catch you.”

There was a muffled sound.

“Aww, honey, come here.” Shuffled footsteps. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“He’s hurt because of me.” There was a shake to Gordon’s voice that set off alarms in Virgil’s head. His little brother was hurting.

He shifted, attempting to shrug off the fog of sleep, but a small hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetie.” He had no idea if the words were addressed to him or to his little brother, but the hand brushed gently through his shoulder down and was ever so paralysing that he lost his fight with sleep again and drifted off.

-o-o-o-

Someone was tugging gently at one of his primaries.

The tugging nudged him into awareness, but then disappeared, leaving him floating in that lazy level just below full consciousness.

Fingers were combing ever so gently through his feathers.

One by one.

He was being looked after.

He wasn’t awake enough to protest, to resist the care being given. Not awake enough to feel guilt.

But enough to just enjoy being looked after, being cared for.

Being loved in the gentlest way possible.

Fingers combed through his secondaries and he let himself fall away.

-o-o-o-

“He’s okay, Scott. Grandma has checked him over, I promise. Just a mass of bruising.” Gordon’s voice was whispering again.

“He looks awful.” Alan’s honesty bounced around Virgil’s dopey brain.

“Shh. I know. Don’t wake him.”

A flicker of yellow light and Gordon sighed. “Don’t believe me, huh?”

“I believe you. I just need to check for myself.” Scott’s deeper rumble blossomed comfort in Virgil’s heart. His big brother was home. He would look after Gordy.

Virgil relaxed just that notch further.

-o-o-o-

Time passed.

It must have, because when Virgil finally woke up everything was quiet. Slow blinking revealed very early dawn barely lighting up the hardwood floor.

Slow neurons fired and eventually gave him the information he needed. He had fallen asleep before the sun went down. Gordy.

Gordy falling.

He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.

“Gordon’s fine, Virgil.”

The words were quiet and calm.

He was laying on his belly and the barest of movements proved his wings were still out. Looking up he caught sight of his eldest brother sitting against the glass doors that led out onto the balcony. He blinked. They were closed.

Scott put down his glass of protein shake. He was dressed in his running outfit, but by the look of it, he hadn’t been out yet.

“How are you feeling?” His brother pushed himself off the floor and took the few steps across the hardwood to crouch down beside Virgil.

How was he feeling?

He had obviously slept in the same position all night and the smallest of movements let him know all about it.

Another groan gave him away as he let his forehead drop to the pillow again.

“That bad, huh?” A hand landed on his shoulder, fingers gently nudging the fine down of his trapezius. “Can you fold your wings?”

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut. Scott was right. Remove the weight of his wings and then attempt the rest.

Movement hurt. The next day was always the worst. Adrenalin gone, abused muscles stiff, bruises fully realised. He grit his teeth.

But this wasn’t the first time.

He lifted his wings off the pillows Gordon had piled there for him and with a groan that crept out between his teeth, he retracted his wings, folded them, and let them go.

All the breath in his body left with a whoosh and he collapsed back into the bed and closed his eyes.

“Better?”

Virgil’s muffled expletive said everything.

Scott snorted. “Okay. Hold that thought. I’ve got just the thing.”

A breath and Virgil let himself drift.

A gentle touch to his mark startled him.

“Hey, relax. Just a little preening oil. Gordon did your wings last night. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to rub a little on sore muscles.” And with that his brother started running gentle circles all over Virgil’s back. His mark tingled at the contact, but it was safe contact, welcome brotherly care.

Care.

The scent of the bathing oil wafted past his nostrils. Scott knew from his own experience where and what hurt in this situation.

Well, not perhaps this exact situation. Virgil couldn’t recall Scott catching Gordon midair before, but there had been that incident with Allie. Their little brother terrifying them all prematurely grey.

It had been Virgil who had administered the care to Scott that day.

Fingers nudged knots and movement into his muscles. It felt good and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

“Thanks, Scott.”

His brother didn’t stop his ministrations. “Anytime, Virg, you know that.”

There was silence for a while after that, Scott methodically and medically working to rub in the liniment. Virgil knew he should move, get up, find where Gordy was…but he found himself paralysed.

Scott knew exactly what he was doing.

Caring, smotherhen, big brother…

-o-o-o-

He must have fallen asleep again, because the next he knew the sun was high in the sky.

He blinked. Everything was quiet – a very unusual situation for the comms room.

Shaking off most of the fog, he pushed himself into a sitting position and was pleasantly surprised when the pain was minimal. It still hurt, but a good percentage of the stiffness was gone. His skin was ever so soft where his big brother had rubbed in oil.

Standing up proved a little more of a challenge, but he got there and worked several of his muscles until they loosened up.

He felt surprisingly good, despite the aches.

All he needed now was coffee.

He shuffled his way across the hardwood floor in his bare feet and down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Virg! You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

Virgil blinked and froze. Gordon, as usual, was far too full of energy first thing in the morning.

“Oh, hell. Coffee. You haven’t had your coffee yet. Sit down, I’ll get you some of your stim juice. Just a moment.”

Gordon started flapping around the kitchen.

Virgil stayed where he was and just stared.

What?

The smell of coffee was suddenly in the air and Virgil felt like floating on it like Pepe Le Pew on a waft of perfume.

“C’mon, Virg, sit down. Coffee’s nearly ready. Want some toast?”

Virgil was notoriously slow in the mornings, but even his morning fog brain could twig something wasn’t right. Gordon was always kind, but this?

“Gordon, what are you doing?”

“Getting you coffee. And breakfast, if you want it.”

His fish brother darted about the kitchen like a guppy swimming in caffeine.

“Gordon?”

“You want sugar?”

“Gordon.”

But his brother wasn’t stopping. With not enough brain cells to work out a different strategy, Virgil resorted to putting himself directly in his brother’s path and grabbing him. “Gordon, stop.”

“What? Why?”

Virgil sighed. It was all too much before coffee. He pulled his brother into a hug. A tight one.

“I’m okay, Gords.”

His brother’s response was muffled against Virgil’s shoulder. Gordon struggled against his hold, so Virgil let him go.

Gordon flung himself away. “Aaargh! You don’t have a shirt on, Virg. Bare skin much?” He stared at his hands. “And oily. Ergh.”

Virgil snorted. “Sorry.” He bit back a grin, but soon lost the fight and ended up chuckling at the expression on his little brother’s face.

Gordon screwed that face up in disgust. “That’s it, you can get your own coffee.”

“Will do.” He reached out and ruffled the fish’s hair.

Gordon batted him away. “Get’orff.”

Virgil sighed, smiling. “Thanks, Gords.”

The fish froze, staring. Something stirred in his eyes. “Anytime, Virg.” He swallowed. “Always.”

Virgil softened even more. “Same.”

They stared at each other a moment longer only for it to be broken by the chime of the coffee machine.

“Ooh, I dare not stand between you and your coffee.” He backed away and then around Virgil as if he was an explosive.

Virgil rolled his eyes and beelined for the coffee machine, because coffee. When he turned around, beverage of the gods in hand, Gordon was gone.

And the warmth in Virgil’s heart had nothing to do with the mug in his hand.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[rottingflovver]

OH MY GOD CAN YOU PLEASE DO THE SAME WITH THE ANON THAT ASKED FOR FEMALE S/O WHO HAD A CHILD?? BUT WITH AKUTAGAWA,ATSUSHI, AND KUNIKIDA PLEASE I BEG OF YOU IM ON MY KNEE’S🧎

AH OF COURSE!! YET AGAIN I STRUGGLE A LITTLE WITH AKU BUT I HOPE IT'S GOOD

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Characters: Akutagawa Ryunosuke, Atsushi Nakajima, Kunikida Doppo

Format: headcanons

Tw: light mentions of abuse and childhood trauma!

A/N: I made myself sad with Atsushi's ╥﹏╥

Surprisingly enough, he's a relatively good dad

I feel like, once you mentioned you had a child he would pull the most annoyed face

He may even tell you that that's a deal breaker

But in reality, he's just...kind of scared

What if he doesn't do a good job? What if the child doesn't like him? Will he really be able to give them a good home and sense of security?

But once they actually meet and start interacting with one another; he'll turn into the most caring person ever

Since he's already raised someone once (Gin, since I doubt Dazai did jack to help) he already has the basics down, and he knows how to show his tender side

Not to mention that Gin will be the cool aunt everyone will look forward to seeing, because she can be both a beautiful lady and super cool assassin (the child calls her a ninja)

Aku knows how to cook, fight me on this

He also knows how to entertain kids and how to clean up after them (and how to clean in general) but oh boy... When it comes to things such as "Hey let's not bring a toddler to battle ground and make them fight" he is AWFUL

You'll have to lecture him on that so much

"I have fought from a young age too. I don't see why they shouldn't."

"Sir this is a McDonald's drive thru"

Once you get over that issue it's smooth sailing tho

"Y...You have a child...? Okay, I hope I won't disappoint them..."

HE IS PANICKING

All his life he's been told that he's worthless, a useless good for nothing that would be better off dead, so much so that he doesn't even think he deserves you as his s/o, let alone a child!!

Since he never had proper parents or proper parental figures in his life, he's worried that he won't know what to do

Worst of all 一 he's worried he might end up being an abuser himself (although that literally cannot happen)

You try and calm him down, telling him that you've seen how gentle he is with Kyouka and Kenji, and that you trust him very much...but he's still quite anxious

That all will change when he actually meets the child tho

If it's a baby or toddler, he'll be around them non stop and will literally not let a fly hurt them

If the kid is a bit older he won't be that watchful of them, but rather, he will try and bond with them via whatever interests the kid has

"You like Pokemon...? Oh my gosh me too!!" Cue him googling pokemon names so that he can flex by knowing every one

The kid will LOVE him

Will be very quick to accept him as their father

Not to mention they will adore his tiger form, and find it so so cute tbh

Many shopping sprees I imagine!! Atsushi isn't the most rich but he wants them to have good and pretty clothes that they will like wearing

Also they will sleep in a tiger onesie

"..."

"That's...uh..."

He's speechless

Not in a bad way of course, he's just...speechless

He'll set aside his ideals for now, because that's just something horrendous in his mind

His inner monologue probably looks like this "How ROTTEN does a man have to be to leave a such beautiful woman alone, that's just plain ridiculous! BUT TO LEAVE HER WHEN SHE ALREADY HAS A CHILD, THAT'S JUST UNACCEPTABLE. SCUM OF THE EARTH."

But his face is just...a stumped expression

ಠ_ಠ

He genuinely doesn't know how to respond, he'll probably fiddle out an awkward statement of supporting you regardless of that

He'll be flabbergasted for an entire week following that trust me

Once he meets the child he's going to be EXACTLY like one of those strict fathers that yell at their children...not

He's actually a big softie

He'll be like "OI don't eat that!!!...Well... I guess a little bit is okay... Please don't tell mom."

Can you believe a man so stoic is so soft when it comes to the ones he loves? Me too I can also believe it

He WILL however be keeping a watchful eye on them constantly

He couldn't bare the guilt of having anything bad happen to them, genuinely

Also he cooks their favorite meal a little too frequently, it's kinda sus mr kunikuni

[cinebration]

Written in DNA (Booker x Reader) [Part 4]

Booker asks the question that keeps bothering him.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Epilogue

Tagged: @lucy-sky​, @city-of-weird​

Warnings: none

Gif Source: boydswan

The stolen truck you had lifted from the parking lot needed new shocks. Booker’s teeth rattled in his skull every time you hit the slightest of bumps.

The three cups of coffee he had drunk were finally starting to work. The fog in his head began to clear, though with it the Thirst began. He looked longingly out the window at every liquor and grocery store you passed.

He didn’t feel right. At first he thought it was withdrawal, but the more it persisted, the more convinced he was it couldn’t be that. No, it had to do with this whole situation.

He needed answers.

“So…how did you become…?” Booker gestured vaguely in your direction.

“Would you believe me if I said I was a mutant like the X-Men?”

“Who?”

“You don’t know who the—never mind.” You sighed. “If only.”

“So?” he promoted.

“Oh, you know, the usual. It’s a month before graduation, and the G-men come knocking, saying, ‘Hey, kid, wanna be part of R&D? Doesn’t matter that you got a useless degree. We sure could use ya!’”

Booker frowned. “That didn’t sound strange to you?”

“Oh, for sure it did. But I said yes anyway.”

“Why?”

Your fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I was scared shitless, you know? What was I gonna do after college? My friends were already on the fast track for greatness. I was the one who didn’t know what to do. Was I supposed to go back to my hometown and die? No, thanks.”

“What about your family?”

“Do you really think they’d recruit people who had families? There was an eighty-percent chance I’d die. No, they went after the ones without a herd. Easy prey.”

“What did they do to you?”

“You ever seen the Bourne trilogy? You know, Jason Bourne? Matt Damon? Although, I guess it’s more like The Bourne Legacy.”

He shook his head.

Sighing again, you raked a hand through your hair. “So, you take a normal human, and you break them, and you rebuild them.”

“Like any soldier.”

“Yes, but this time, it comes with gene therapy. Cell regeneration, faster reflexes, sharper mind. Building a human tank: faster, stronger, harder…” You swallowed thickly, the muscle in your jaw flexing. “I used to be shorter. They broke my legs and made me grow back taller.”

“Super soldiers,” Booker realized.

“That was just the first three years. Then came the training. The conditioning. Not just the body.”

Booker glanced at your profile. A haunted look crossed over your face. “What does that mean?”

“Where are the others?”

He blinked. “What?”

“The other immortals.”

Flinching, Booker looked away, slipped down a fraction in his seat. “I don’t know.”

“And the person who sent you?”

“I…don’t know.”

“You’re helpful. So where the hell do we go?”

He wanted to go home, but he kept his mouth shut. He could feel the pull of grief and shame dragging on him, trying to submerge him in dark waters.

“Do you know someone who makes passports?”

Booker nodded.

“Well?”

“I can,” he muttered.

“Good. We’ll get the equipment you need, then.” The note of finality in your voice brooked no argument.

Booker looked out the window, glimpsed a reflection of himself in the side-view mirror.

“RadioShack is dead, right?” you asked.

He wearily rubbed his face. What am I doing?

~~

Booker hadn’t spent much time in America. Problems were different there than the ones Andy had tackled in Europe and elsewhere. It didn’t help that in recent years, America had become one of the most surveilled countries in the world, in which its own people had their privacy violated without their knowledge—or sometimes with their knowledge.

Understandably, the team had avoided the country. As such, Booker had no stashes, no safe houses.

No tools. No contacts.

This didn’t seem to faze you, however. It felt strange, the confidence you seemed to have in him when he hadn’t earned it. The last people who had trusted him implicitly…

Veering away from that pit of despair, he focused on the task at hand. After you saw a nearby Target, he had entered and picked up what he needed from the electronics section.

You had insisted on driving through two more towns before finding a motel for the night, giving him plenty of time to solve the problem of the forged passport. He had brought two with him, one for entering the country and another for leaving. The one he had used to arrive at JFK could be repurposed for yours, with the only problem being that he would have to replace the identification page.

He churned the problem around for two hours.

“Are you sure you can even leave the country?” he asked.

“No,” you answered immediately. “I’m sure they’ve issued my photo everywhere.”

“Then a passport is useless.”

“Not necessarily.” You shrugged. “Worst-case scenario, I stowaway on a cargo ship. Or steal a seaworthy one.”

Booker watched you cycle through that idea, your head cocking slightly as you ran through the possibilities.

“Maybe I should do that first,” you murmured.

Pulling into a motel parking lot, you sent Booker in to rent a room overnight.

“We’ve only got a single,” the lady at the desk said.

Booker sighed. “Okay.” He paid in cash.

“Room eight,” he directed you. He walked over to the room as you nosed the car over, grateful to stretch his legs.

He paused in the middle of the parking lot and looked up at the sky. Sunlight streaked the clouds scuttling across the darkening heavens. The smell of incoming rain tickled his nose, a moist breeze toying with his hair.

A beautiful day, if he really cared.

The key slipped from his hand. He flinched in surprise. “How do you do that?”

“I’m part cat,” you quipped, brandishing the key.

“You’re joking.”

“Am I?”

He stared, shook his head. “Yes?”

Your laughter spilled out of the room as you disappeared inside.

[emilia3546]

Shadowsinger -Part 19

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter*

Masterlist with all previous chapters

*****

With Azriel double checking their plans to get into the Mortal Palace, Gwyn was free to help Nesta and Emerie in designing a training program for the Illyrian females. Most of them had clipped wings, only the youngest did not, so any training would be land-based, and there wasn't enough time for aerial combat for those who could fly anyway. Gwyn hadn't even considered them being on the front lines, but they could perhaps form an auxiliary force, the last line to break, the surprise that the rebels weren't expecting. Still, not everyone wanted to train, and not all of them could bear to fight, not when they might face fathers, husbands, brothers, sons on the other side of the battlefield. Even those who could not, or would not, fight could still be helpful though. It had been Emerie who had suggested that Madja and Velaris' healers run some medical training for those who preferred to help in that way. Nesta's eyes had darkened with rage at the thought of the grievous injuries that would undoubtedly be sustained when the fighting broke out, and Gwyn threw an arm over her shoulders, knowing that she was recalling Cassian's injuries from the last war.

"The most important thing will be on the battlefield," Gwyn mused, "The issue with our healers is that they are based at camps, so casualties can't reach them. If we can get a group of medics on the battlefield, at least trained to defend themselves if necessary, but with the key skills to keep casualties alive until they can be seen by a healer, we'll be in a much better position. Especially if those medics are female, they'll be ignored and overlooked." Nesta nodded her agreement, and Emerie suggested a few females that she knew who might be interested in such a role.

"Every Illyrian female knows some basic healing skills, but nothing that would work on a battlefield, we'll have to get word out quickly, and hope that the males don't object." Nesta grinned, 

"Oh, they won't object, not if I personally send out invitations to classes. They think I'm a witch, and they're scared shitless of me, my presence on a battlefield might hopefully convince the rebels to think twice, although, perhaps not, if they're willing to rebel against their High Lord and Lady."

"Oh they'll definitely think twice about fighting you, sweetheart," Cassian chuckled, starling all females as he strode through the open door and kissed the top of Nesta's head, she shrugged, 

"I'll just have to make them think that I'll cast a spell to cut their balls off," Cassian laughed again,

"Such a beautiful, violent female," he murmured, casting his gaze across the training plans,

"Any changes you suggest?" Gwyn asked, keen to break up the way both Nesta and Cassian had looked at each other just then,

"It's pretty good, but I'd focus a little more on hand-to-hand combat, we don't have time to fully build up to swords, perhaps fighting knives would be better. They're lighter, and females are smaller, quicker, lighter than males, knives would allow them to use that to their advantage in a fight, even against a male wielding a broadsword." Gwyn noted down Cassian's suggestions, leaving the final decisions to Nesta and Emerie, it would be them, after all, who oversaw the training, Gwyn would be working with Azriel to remain one step ahead of the rebels, and the queens.

Gwyn noted the room slowly filling up, but it didn't bother her, it didn't bother her that with Amren was that dark-skinned male whom she hardly knew. She merely acknowledged his presence with a nod, her attention fixed on finishing her portion of the the plans, leaning back in her chair, and stretching. Azriel was the last to arrive, automatically making his way across to Gwyn and resting a hand on the back of her chair. She tipped her head sideways to slightly touch that hand. Azriel would never be one for public affection like Cassian and Nesta, but, like Cassian, he needed that contact, needed the contact he had been denied for so long to remind himself that she didn't hate him, that she loved him, that he was worthy of her love, had always been. Even Amren had stifled a smile at Gwyn's subtle display of affection, and Theia was practically beaming with joy at the way Azriel had relaxed at Gwyn's touch, the tension in his muscles releasing before he spoke,

"Gwyn and I have finalized a way into the Mortal Palace. We will have to go alone, and ordinarily, I wouldn't even suggest bringing her at this point in her training, but she has contacts within, and outside the Palace. She is our way in, and our way to send reports back here. We'll spell the reports, but only to one person, I can't work a spell more complicated than that." He looked to Rhys and Feyre, "Who do want me to spell it to?" Feyre shuffled in her seat,

"Rhys." Rhys made to complain, but Feyre raised a hand, "He has more experience, and will know the key things to look for, especially with reports from you, you know each other's way of working better than me, I'm still learning how to be High Lady. And," she added with a sigh, "I have to feed Nyx several times every night, I'm tired, I might miss something." Rhys sighed but nodded,

"Spell the reports to me then. When can you expect to get in?"

"We'll leave tomorrow," Gwyn answered, "There's only a few final preparations needed, Azriel can winnow us onto the continent, but we'll have to travel the rest of the way on foot, by air it'll be too visible, and to winnow any closer might set off wards, besides, some of my friends live a few miles out. We should be able to get into the Palace within a week, unless we come across something unaccounted for, I'd expect the first update about a week after that, give or take." Azriel nodded, 

"I'll only be wearing two siphons most of the time, and we won't be in full armor, the aim is to get in disguised as a rebel warrior and his wife." He paused for a moment, and Gwyn nodded, encouraging him to continue after a moment's hesitation. "Gwyn will be noticed at once as out of place," Azriel turned to Rhys, "Can you glamour her to appear Illyrian? You only need to give her wings." Still, wings were the most difficult part of that request, if he couldn't make a glamour look realistic, Gwyn had already agreed to allow them to attempt to shift her into an Illyrian body. Rhys pursed his lips,

"I can try, but I don't know if I'l be able to make them move naturally if I'm not there, the innate magic may not be enough." Gwyn knew that, but she still asked him to try, and closed her eyes at the touch of night-flecked power on her. "Just move about a bit, Gwyn, let me see if it works without me actively moving it around." She got up, walked a couple of laps on the room, threw a couple of punches at the air, turned around quickly, but her face fell at the silence around her,

"It's not working is it?"

"No, I'm sorry," Rhys muttered, "The only other way would be to shift your body into that of an Illyrian. I can definitely do that, and then reverse it when you're back, but it would involve me changing your body." He said carefully, slowly gauging her reaction

"I know." Gwyn said, her chin held high as the glamour lifted, "Az already warned me, and it's okay. I trust him, and everyone in this room," there was a moment of surprise in Rhys' eyes as he glanced towards Varian, "Even him. He has been nothing but kind and respectful, and he has already earned all of your trust, I would be foolish not to trust him as well, if all of you do, he must have proved himself several times."

"That he has," Rhys mused, and offered Feyre a questioning glance, falling silent for a moment before Feyre broke the silence, 

"We think it'll be better if I do this, I have more experience with different types of shifting, and I have shifted myself into an Illyrian form many times. I've also seen, and felt the magic's imprint, when Tamlin shifted others into different forms, Rhys has only ever shifted himself into his beast form. Gwyn nodded, altogether more comfortable with Feyre's magic, as a female, it somehow felt familiar, less alien and frightening. "This will probably tingle a bit and feel odd, but it won't hurt." Gwyn mentally braced herself, almost flinching at the tingle in her shoulders, then expanding across her whole body. She opened her eyes once the tingling had faded, she felt the same, but the moment she moved something felt wrong, different. Her balance was off, something pulling her backwards. She flexed her shoulders, and a whoosh of air alerted her to the wings now flaring out behind her. She flinched at the sound of breaking china,

"Sorry," she muttered, and wriggled the wings around a bit before figuring out how to close them. The one thing that she had expected to bother her didn't, the weight of the wings was less than she'd thought it would be, and her training had built up her muscles so that she could carry them easily without worrying about dragging them on the floor. 

"You could fly if you wanted to," Feyre said, "I've made them look clipped as that's what would make sense, but the tendons and muscles beneath are normal, and I don't expect there'll be much time for you to learn to fly anyway, but in an emergency you will be able to." Gwyn nodded, "You should get used to moving around with them, and fighting, it feels a bit different to usual, your center of balance is shifted backwards, so it just takes a bit of getting used to." 

"I'm sure it will, we have until lunch tomorrow to get ready, so hopefully I'll be re-balanced by then. It should definitely be before we reach the Palace at any rate."

*****

Gwyn had adjusted to the wings remarkably quickly, the walk to the training ring seeming to be long enough for her to figure out how her balance needed to shift. She warmed up normally, albeit a little slower than usual, but she didn't seem to have any issues, not ones that she needed Azriel's help with anyway.

"Okay, just practice unfolding and folding your wings for now, we can do something more once you're comfortable with that." Gwyn nodded, and flared out her wings, faster than before, and stumbled backwards, Azriel stifled a chuckle at her surprise, but she folded them in, then out again, and kept her balance. She kept going until she could do it while walking around, sitting down, drawing a weapon. She cursed Azriel's name soundly when he made her practice doing it while running and drawing a weapon at the same time, a wooden practice sword. Gwyn had questioned what the point was in using a practice sword, but as she clipped the corner of a wing and tripped up, rolling to regain her feet she just glared at him. "Go again," he chuckled, "Any child can do this,"

"Any child can do this," she mimicked, glaring at him, and he laughed,

"I do not sound like that," She just huffed, but did as she was told, falling several more times before she fixed her timing and drew the sword from a sheath at her side consistently without falling. The moment she was confident with that, Azriel switched the sheath to one down her spine. She could do it standing still on the first try, but the moment she started moving, her wings moved a bit, and she kept hitting them, sending her sprawling onto the floor. She groaned, but kept getting back up, slapping away Azriel's hand when he extended it, a multitude of profanities falling from her lips each time. He could barely hold back his laughter at the sight of Gwyn, usually so balanced and elegant, falling on her ass, and swearing enough to put even Cassian to shame. Still, a beautiful rosy blush was now staining her cheeks, and she was panting slightly in the sun's punishing heat. "One more." He called, and Gwyn flipped him off before taking off at a sprint, and whooping in delight when she drew her sword without incident, looking back at him and grinning with undisguised joy. "Take a break."

"No. I want to fight," she complained,

"Break. Once we start combat training we'll go until you're ready to drop, break. Now." He left no room for argument, but Gwyn still rolled her eyes as she nudged past him to get to the water he'd brought out. She'd made a hundred such gestures, but each time he couldn't help the rush of delight that washed over him that she was able to be this comfortable whilst alone with a male, let alone that male being him. She was still experimenting with the position of her wings, but stopped when she noticed Azriel's attention, muttering something about overbearing busybodies before practically bouncing up to him and demanding that they move on to combat. Azriel couldn't help but match her energy, not as she grinned and almost danced on the spot when he agreed, but he did make her walk through her patterns first, demonstrating them so that she could see what he did with his wings. He did warn her not to think too much about them though, with the muscles at the base, they would re-balance subconsciously, even though she hadn't been born with them.

As with almost everything he had ever thrown at her, Gwyn took back to fighting with surprising ease, enough that he was confident to agree to spar at the end of their training session. He moved a little slower than usual, his blows lighter than usual, giving Gwyn a little extra time to balance to parry each blow and then retaliate. She, however, did not hold back, and at times it felt like she was trying to knock Azriel's head off, and very nearly succeeded at one point, with Azriel only just dodging the blow and ducking under her blade to force her to turn. As she spun round, the momentum forced her wings out, and she struggled to balance, flaring them out further, and Azriel yelped when she smacked him across the face, having failed to step far enough back. Gwyn froze at the sound, finally regaining her balance and whirled to find Azriel taking a few steps back to a healthy distance,

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She rushed towards him, and pulled his face down, inspecting the slightly reddened skin of his cheek, and tutted to herself, "Sorry," she whispered again, and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, "There. That's better," she said, "I think we'd better call it a day there, I'm getting tired, so I'll just end up doing that again otherwise." Azriel nodded, then gently caught her wrist, turning her back towards him,

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just, I don't know," she shrugged, "I'm fine though, I'm fine," he raised an eyebrow at that, she seemed to be convincing herself more than him,

"Pre-mission nerves?"

"I guess," she sighed, "I'll be fine once we've got there."

"I want to show you something, how I always got over it." Gwyn smirked at that,

"And what would that be?" 

"Hold on," that was the only warning Gwyn got before he scooped her up and launched upwards, leaving her screaming and throwing her arms around his neck. Azriel flapped again, rising up and up and up, until Velaris was just a mosaic of lights below them, he leveled out and Gwyn whooped in delight, before smacking him on the arm,

"Asshole!" She hissed, but Azriel just chuckled and pretended to drop her, making her squeal again, and cling on to him tighter, burying her face in his neck, "I hate you," she mumbled, but still relaxed into him, and pressed another kiss against the cheek her wing had smacked, 

"Really hold on now," Azriel murmured, this time waiting until she was clinging on before offering her a cocky smirk, and falling out of the sky. A scream tore from Gwyn's throat as they fell, tumbling through the air, his wings blowing up around them as the wind rushed past, whipping Azriel's hair around his face. Quickly Gwyn's screams turned into shouts and whoops of delight, the wind tearing her hair out of her braid, sending it flying out behind her, and Azriel laughed, truly laughed, pulling her in for a kiss. He clutched her tighter against his chest, flipping over so that he could see the ground, and Gwyn screamed again as it approached,

"Pull up!" She screamed, "We're going to crash!"

"Trust me," Azriel murmured in her ear, and she trembled at his voice, almost imperceptibly arching into him at that little reminder of last night. She buried her face in Azriel's neck again, not even opening them at the rush of wind as he flapped hard, mere feet from the ground just outside the city. He circled lazily upwards, cruising over the city, and Gwyn finally opened her eyes, and smiled,

"Can we do that again?" Azriel grinned, 

"Going to keep your eyes open this time, Valkyrie?"

"Going to try and kill me again, Shadowsinger?"

"Never," he murmured, but gave no warning before folding his wings in again and plummeting towards the earth, holding Gwyn so that the wind rippled against her own newly formed wings. The look of wonder on her face as she felt the wind was unrivaled in beauty, and Azriel clutched her hands, "Do you trust me?"

"Always," she hesitated only a heartbeat before taking his hands and turning onto her belly, holding Azriel's hands in front of her, 

"Wings out," she did as he said, and he did so at the same time, the wind slowing as it caught their wings. Azriel angled towards an updraft, and Gwyn laughed with joy as she was pushed up in the air, with her wings automatically catching the breeze. She whooped again, and let Azriel guide her through Velaris' winds and currents, leaving them both wind-chilled but laughing uncontrollably when he pulled her into his chest and dove through their bedroom window. "Nest step, flying on your own." He whispered, and Gwyn shook her head disbelievingly, 

"That's a big step."

"Need me to hold your hand?" Azriel teased, and Gwyn's competitive gleam reappeared in her eyes,

"I'll be flying better than you in no time." She declared, sweeping off to the bathroom before he could respond. He chuckled to himself, still staring after the female who had made him open his heart to the world, who had seen the shadows and the person he sometimes had to be and had decided to love all of him, flaws and all. It made his heart ache with love, greater than he'd ever felt, he didn't need a mating bond, he didn't need what Rhys and Cassian had, he just needed her. He just needed Gwyn.

[thesanhighlordofdawn]

Together- Thesan x Peregryn Captain (Slight NSFW)

Since Thesan and his captain don’t get enough love, I decided to write a cute fic of them together. There are some spoilers for ACOSF if you haven’t read it yet so be warned and enjoy!

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Apon a mountain high among the clouds stood the high lord of dawn’s personal palace shining brightly with sunstone that seemed to hold the gleaming of a thousand sunrises within it. Within the palace guarded by the most trained and hardened peregryn warriors sat Thesan, the most neutral and peaceful high lord of prythian.

Thesan, who had spent most of his day hunched over a desk going through endless piles of letters and reports, let out a long sigh as he finally finished his last document for the day. Even with the war over and most cities and towns rebuilt there were still many different issues and concerns that seemed to be appearing, especially with the human queens and Rhysand news on Feyre’s life-threatening pregnancy. After meeting with Rhysand all those months ago who had practically begged on his knees for Thesan to help him with the dire situation he and his mate faced, Thesan had feared the worst knowing that even with his powerful healing powers, anything he could do was useless. When he had gotten a letter days ago telling him that Feyre and his son had survived he had been relieved, not just for his friend’s sake but also for the rest of Prythian. 

Rubbing the exhaustion from his face, Thesan stood up and signaled his messenger to send all the finalized documents to their respective places before heading out to leave his office. Ever so slowly Thesan reached his arms up, groaning at the cracks that came from his back after sitting down for so long. Looking out the window you could see the few remaining minutes of sunset left meaning Thesan had about another hour or two before he would able to see his mate, Zyair. Deciding to call it a day, Thesan cleaned up any remaining papers on his desk before he made his way to his room.

While walking down the halls Thesan noted to nodded and waved to any maid or guard still around. Most left around the end of sundown to head home to their families except a couple of guards who took shifts throughout the night. Reaching the master bedroom, Thesan waved the two guards away by his room for some peace and privacy. Both nodded and walked away leaving the sound of armor clanking and wings flapping in their wake.

Quickly opening and closing the door, Thesan instantly sighed as he dropped his high lord façade, immediately relaxing his posture and allowed the tiredness of the day to show. Looking over at the warm and inviting bed, Thesan almost decided to forget taking a bath and just fall asleep instead but, he desperately needed to bathe and let go of some of the tension locked in his body. With slow heavy steps, Thesan walked into his bathroom, relieved to see his pool-like tub filled with steaming hot water mixed with multiple scented oils and golden-like bubbles. The steady glow of golden pink walls and waft of lavender helped ease the headache that had formed from the day. 

Not wanting to waste another second, Thesan gracefully peeled layer by layer of his formal clothing away until he was completely bare of all cloth and jewelry. Slowly stepping in, Thesan hissed at the sting of the hot water as he slowly eased in until the burning sting that had surrounded Thesan’s skin ebbed away leaving a warming comfort in its wake. Closing his eyes, Thesan felt the tension and stress of the day start to seep out of his body leaving him with a feeling of weightlessness. 

For what felt like hours, Thesan sat and soaked in the tub enjoying its relief until the sudden sound of doors opening and closing snapped him out of his blissful trance. Eye’s open, Thesan sat up more, ready to see who was there until the sound of the bathroom door rang through the air and the head of his lover appeared through the opening of the door. Thesan, knowing he was safe, relaxed and smiled at his love. 

Zyair, who had been searching for his high lord, relaxed seeing him safe and content, opened the door as he was waved inside. Softly closing it, he made his way over, careful not to knock anything down with the sheer size of his wings. Thesan gave a soft smile at him as he reached the edge of his pool-like tub.

Thesan looked up to his lover and mate, staring straight into his beautiful onyx eyes, and gave a simple Join me?”

Zyair, powerless to deny his mate anything gave a simple “Of course” before stripping himself of his sweaty and dirty armor from hours and hours of training and fighting. Thesan watched and admired Zyair’s form as piece after piece of clothing was removed. His rippling abs and bulging arms shined with sweat from hours of work.

Zyair blushed slightly at the admiring, even though they had seen each other nude hundreds of times. Thesan knowing how shy his captain was and looked back up while offering his hand which Zyair gladly gave. Arranging comfortably, Thesan eased his back against Zyair’s chest leaving no space between them as Zyair quickly wrapped himself around Thesan after comfortably arranging his wings.

After sitting together for a minute in silence enjoying each other’s presence, Thesan turned and tilted his head whispering “I love you” before sealing his lips to Zyair’s. Zyair was quick to respond, brushing his tongue against Thesans bottom lip asking for permission which Thesan gladly gave, before deepening the kiss. Both fought against their need for oxygen as their tongues danced together. Eventually, both had to pull away. Both rested their foreheads against each other, panting as they tried to catch their breath. Even after accepting their bond months ago both still felt the constant frenzy to be wrapped in each other arms away from the rest of the world.

Zyair leaned closer and kissed the tip of Thesan’s nose before claiming “I love you too”

Thesan gave a low hum before asking “How was your day?”

Zyair gave a long sigh “Frustrating, after losing so many soldiers in the war it’s become difficult to find more men that are willing to join the guard. Anyone we can find that is willing has almost no experience in fighting or training ”

“My poor mighty warrior” Thesan laughed. Zyair gave a quick pinch to Thesan backside causing him to gasp and gave a playful splash. 

Zyair chuckled as he wiped the water off his face before nuzzling into Thesan neck asking “And yours?”

Thesan groaned at the thought “The documents and reports I’ve been getting seem to grow more every day, it doesn’t help that Beron and the human queens seem to be acting up.”

Zyair faced hardened at the reminder of the possible looming war that could break out, having read the report Thesan had gotten from the high lord and lady of the night courting days ago.

“Whatever happens we do together” Zyair stated, staring deep into Thesan’s eyes. Thesan gave him a slight nod, not trusting his voice as he reached for Jian’s hand

“Let me help you relax” Zyair mumbled while kissing the top of Thesan’s damp hair hoping that it would distract them both from the uncertainties the future faced.

Thesan gave a slight nod, shifting to get comfortable enough for whatever Zyair planned. Zyair immediately grabbed the shampoo bottle, pouring a generous amount in his hand as he started lightly messaging the suds through Thesan’s soft hair.

Thesan leaned his head into the pressure, almost purring at the feel of Zyair’s fingers through his hair. Once Zyair removed his fingers, Thesan took the hint to dunk and wash the suds out; repeating the same step with the conditioner. Once his hair was clean Zyair grabbed a nearby rag and bar of soap, lathering it up before brushing it against Thesan skin. 

Starting from the neck, Zyair washed every nook and cranny of Thesan, grazing softly of his nipples and chest before going lower. Thesan let out a series of soft moans as he felt Zyair move the rag lower and lower, softly going around and over his obvious arousal. Finishing soon after, Thesan turned around giving his love a grateful kiss before quickly withdrawing. Confused, Zyair looked up.

Thesan gave a soft smile before motioning him to turn around “Your turn”

Zyair quickly turned letting Thesan drag the rag up and around his chest. Zyair stayed silent for a couple of minutes enjoying the feel of his mate’s hands-on him before gasping suddenly at a new sensation. Turning, Zyair watched as Thesan softly brush his hand over the smaller, softer feathers at the base of his wing, carefully tracing up the ridges of the fragile bones. His wings flex and stretch against the satisfying ache that echoes through his muscles as a spike of arousal shot through him. 

“Unless you want to stay in this tub for a while or so I suggest we take this somewhere else” Zyair growled lowly, eyes shinning with unspoken promises.

Thesan inhaled sharply before pulling Zyair out of the tub and towards their bed before giving in to the carnal desire that had been building between them.

Hours after, the two laid together in each other’s arms. Zyair’s arms wrapped tightly around Thesan, allowing him to hear the steady beat of his love’s heart as he fell into a deep sleep. It was at moments like this that Thesan thank the Mother every day that they both had found each other, knowing how many times they had come close to losing each other, even before they had confessed their love for each other. Snuggling closer, Thesan allowed himself to fall into sleeps embrace knowing that whatever the future held, they’d face it together until the very end.

[hawksward]

Wolves in Sheep's Clothing Ch. 1: Push/Pull (Childe/OC)

Since being granted a vision at the tender age of 10, Irina has owed her life to the Tsaritsa and dedicated herself to rising through the ranks of the Fatui. In becoming a top-ranking diplomat she's received her easiest assignment yet: ensure the 11th Fatui Harbinger remains ignorant of La Signora's plan to obtain the gnosis of Rex Lapis. A simple task for someone who's made a career out of lying.

Unfortunately, even the simplest tasks can go awry when feelings get in the way.

Rating: E (For eventual smut)

Warnings: None that I can think of for this chapter, there will eventually be smut

Banner credit goes to @shinsotired because I'm incapable of art.

Prologue:

Cold. She couldn’t remember the last time she wasn’t cold. At first, the nerves in her fingertips were screaming, the skin exposed through the holes in her worn gloves. But now it was different.

The cold had faded into warmth as she laid on the ground in the alley. At first, it was uncomfortably hot. So hot she wanted to strip off her already thin winter coat and hat. But now it was pleasantly warm. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this way.

But it wasn’t right. It couldn’t be.

The snow seemed to fall in waves, flakes occasionally falling into her eyes. The girl flexed her fingers before closing her eyes, they were becoming harder and harder to move.

I’m dying

The thought echoed in her head. She couldn’t decide if she was scared or relieved. If she died there would be no more suffering. Tears slipped out of her eyes, freezing on her cheeks.

I can’t. Not here. Not like this.

She curled herself into a ball. Clenching her fists as tight as she could to stay awake. She desperately tried to conserve what little body heat she had left.

The voices were faint at first, two men engaging in idle chatter as they strolled through the alley. One man’s footsteps stopped short when he saw her, much to the dismay of his partner.

“Leave it Misha. Street kids die every day here.” His foot pushed her from her side onto her back. She could barely open her eyes, any energy she had for defiance long gone. She immediately knew the man by his mask. Fatui.

“She’s holding something.” Misha reached down to pry open her clenched fist.

Her palm was soaked in blood around an object she knew she wasn’t holding before. Although she couldn’t quite make out what it was from her angle, she noticed the man’s eyes go wide.

“How many street kids do you know who have been blessed by the Tsaritsa?”  He plucked the object from her hand and held it to the lamplight. A cryo vision.

“What’s your name, child?”

Her voice came as a whisper

“Irina”

Ch. 1:

The wind in Liyue Harbor was far milder than the chill winds in Snezhnaya. The boat journey was amicable, albeit long, and she would be in Liyue for the foreseeable future. Even from the docks, she could tell. The whole city was in chaos.

Only a day passed since the Rite of Descension, a disaster of epic proportions, and it was clear there were still no answers.

Irina leaned over the side of the boat, watching the fish scatter as the anchor plummeted into the sand below. Men hurried into the boat the moment the gangplank fell, eager to unload the crates of liquor shipped from the motherland.

Pushing herself off the rail, Irina made her way down the gangplank. She knew next to nothing about her assignment. Only that Rex Lapis was dead and there was now a sea of red tape between the Tsaritsa and the gnosis.

“I trust you’re our new diplomat?”

Her attention was brought to the man before her. He had half a head of height on her with bright auburn hair and even brighter blue eyes. It was clear from what he was wearing that he was Fatui.

“Yes. I’ve been sent by Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa, to aid in the issue with the exuvia.” She held out her hand for a handshake only for the man to hold her hand to his lips, placing a small kiss before releasing.

“I’m Childe. We’ll be working closely together while you’re here in Liyue. Not like I needed the assistance, I have the situation under control.”

She wasn’t surprised that he was less than excited for her arrival, she didn’t climb through the ranks to take easy assignments.

“Aster.” It was an alias of course, she couldn’t remember the last time she used her real name. “You must be Tartaglia then. Don’t mind me. I’m here to help grease the bureaucratic gears. I won’t be interfering with your bank loan operation.”

Irina knew that the Northland Bank was a large source of revenue for the Tsaritsa in Liyue. She also knew that their interest rates and collection practices were less than ethical. Not like it was any of her concern.

The smile on Childe’s face faltered for only a second, but it was enough to betray his false hospitality. He was a harbinger, most Fatui agents and diplomats alike wouldn’t dare talk to him in that manner. But most diplomats weren’t hand chosen by the Tsaritsa herself.

“Well Aster, I’m sure you’re tired from the journey but why don’t I show you around and get you acquainted with the members of the Northland Bank, where you’ll be stationed. As your superior officer allow me to give you the grand tour”

His words weren’t lost on her. Although she wouldn’t be reporting to him on her assignment she needed to appear like she was. She couldn’t have him asking questions.

“Of course, Lord Tartaglia ” the words rolled off her tongue like venom “Please lead the way.”

——

It was clear from the endless amount of stairs he had her climb to the Yujing Terrace that he was looking to torture her. Nothing about the tour was optimal and only served to exhaust her further.

“Don't tell me you’re getting tired already!” Childe was beaming from ear to ear

She wanted to stab him. They had gone back and forth to a new landmark, each somehow across the city from the other, for the better part of 3 hours. And while she was in shape, she didn’t have an elite soldier’s stamina. Nor did Childe have to make the trek in heels.

“Of course not, I’m ready to experience all the city has to offer” She put on her most charming smile. She wouldn’t let him best her, especially not so early in the game.

Childe laughed before waving her over to the nearby railing. The view from the terrace was beautiful. From the top of the city was a view of the harbor. The streets below just beginning to light the lanterns for the night.

“I see you know how to make an impression” Irina smiled to herself as she drank in the view.

“What can I say? I have many talents.” He leaned against the rail, his eyes trained on her. “One of them is sensing bullshit. So why don’t you tell me why you’re really here.”

Irina raised an eyebrow, turning her attention to the man before her. “I’m here because the Tsaritsa is unimpressed at how long it’s taking you to complete your mission. Signora obtained her gnosis within a week of arriving in Mondstat.”

“Signora didn't have to contend with a dead Barbatos.” He countered

“If you think you can do this on your own then by all means be my guest.” Irina pushed herself off the rail, “But as of today all matters dealing with the Liyue Qixing will be handled by me. If you take issue with that you’re free to look through the paperwork I brought with me.”

Childe had no retort, but it was clear that she struck a nerve by comparing him to Signora. It didn’t matter. She would complete her mission as soon as possible and then leave Liyue for her next assignment. which would hopefully not involve the 11th harbinger.

“Well then. Allow me to escort the lady to the Northland Bank. Ekaterina has prepared the small office for your arrival.”

——

Childe didn’t lie when he said the office was small. Her office was a glorified storage closet on the upper level of the bank, barely large enough to fit a reasonably sized oak desk already stacked with paperwork. She knew when she wasn’t meeting with the Qixing she would be expected to help out with administrative work for the bank.

She didn’t expect for her superior  to drop all of his work on her as well.

Before he left for the night he tossed a map her way, a large red x marking where her accommodations would be. She was mildly surprised he hadn’t offered to walk her to the inn to keep tabs on her. Then again the Fatui presence in the city was nothing to scoff at, someone would see her eventually and most likely report back.

Thankfully the inn wasn’t difficult to find, centered in the middle of the merchant district. Accommodations weren’t large by any means, but the warm wood and red bedding were lush and inviting.

What little luggage she brought on the boat was tucked away in the corner, next to a small bathroom. She never carried much, even a small suitcase seeming excessive after growing up with nothing.

Irina glanced at the clock sitting on the dresser. Currently 11 pm. She needed to be at Liuli pavilion in 3 hours. She changed out of her clothes for something that didn’t scream ‘Fatui agent skulking around at all hours of the night’.

—-

Liuli Pavillion definitely looked closed. Irina passed maybe two people on her way from the inn to the restaurant, both of whom were definitely too drunk to remember anyone who passed them by.

Irina checked her surroundings before knocking on the door twice, followed by a brief pause, followed by four more times. She could hear footsteps coming from inside before unlocking the door.

“Can I help you? We’re closed” a middle-aged man looked her up and down, a scowl on his face

“I’m here with the jueyun chili order.”

“Already got it last week.” He barked

“Yes, but this order is a special delivery from Qingce Village.”

The man gave a curt nod before stepping out of the way. The windows in the restaurant were tightly drawn shut, locking in the dim candlelight. Irina made her way to the voices coming from the adjacent room.

The room held a small square table, one seat was filled by a dark haired man in an expensive looking suit. The other was filled with none other than the 8th harbinger herself.

Signora.

“You’re late.” She didn’t bother to look up as she took a sip from her glass of wine “Sit down, we don’t have much time.”

Irina sat down as the man from the door placed a glass of wine in front of her. She took a small sip, locking eyes with the dark haired man across the table. Was Signora going to make an introduction or not?

“This is my subordinate, Aster. She’ll be your point of contact for all things related to the contract” Signora began “Aster, this is Zhongli, you may know him better as Rex Lapis”

Irina nearly choked on her drink. She knew the anemo archon, Barbatos, had taken on a human form before having his gnosis taken. But she never imagined she’d see another archon in the flesh. The Tsaritsa living among her people wasn’t exactly common.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” She wasn't sure how to respond. Clearly he didn’t want many to know if he was going by a different name. But was it alright to treat him like a normal person?

“None of that. In this form, I am simply Zhongli, consultant for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.” He gave a small, polite smile before sipping from his wine “Not to mention going forward we’ll be colleagues.”

“Listen closely because I’m only going to explain this once.” Signora reclined back in her seat, her fierce gaze not once leaving Irina, “The Tsaritsa has signed a contract with Rex Lapis for procurement of the gnosis. Since I can’t be in the city without drawing attention, you will be my proxy. You will tell absolutely no one of the contract nor about Zhongli’s identity. Do you understand?”

“Of course Lady Signora. I will maintain the utmost discretion.”

“Good. Since you’ll be doing it anyway, I want a report on anything you can discern from the Qixing as well.” The tall blonde woman stood from her chair, turning her back momentarily before returning her focus to Irina. “One last thing. If Tartaglia so much as develops an idea of what’s happening here consider yourself out of a job.”

Irina rose from her chair to give her a nod and a salute before the other woman left the restaurant. She had no intention of failing a mission, but it was clear that Signora would rip her entire life out from under her faster than she could blink if she did.

“Please, enjoy the glass of wine with me before you leave.” Zhongli motioned for her to return to her seat “We should get to know each other since we’ll be working closely together. Not to mention it is a vintage.”