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shadow--writer · 3 years

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That's Not How You Spell Circle

In which Maeve attempts to teach her dumbass (ᵈᵘᵐᵇᵃˢˢ ᵇᵉᶦⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗᶦᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ) boyfriend how to spell circle.

@dela-png encourages my brain rot part TWO. We had this long convo on how Lucas can’t spell circle and how Maeve would try and help (and it uhh...goes somewhere)

Hi it’s fic recs with Shade. If you want to read another fic with one of Dela’s amazing oc’s and a super fun apprentice check out @arcanecadenza ‘s (if you don’t want me pinging you please let me know! ^^) fic with Donovan here (it’s super cute and well written but be warned her blog gets pretty spicy and she does have another fic with Donny out now too ᶦᵗ'ˢ ˢᵐᵘᵗᵗʸ *ᶜᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶜᵒᵘᵍʰ*)

Maeve x Lucas, fluff (actual fluff this time guys my first fluffy fic in this fandom are you proud?), humour, 3.8k words (I CANNOT shut the fuck up OMFG)

TW: none! Tags: fluff, humour, lawd I hope I got Lucas right™️, a little spicy at times but nothing smutty, suggestive, spicy suggestive end, language there is quite a bit of uhh harsh language lol

~~~~

It took her nearly a month to convince Lucas to let her help him learn to write and spell. To say he was stubborn about it would be the understatement of the millennia. Every time she brought it up she would be shut down faster then she could get the words out.

So she resorted to pestering him.

A lot.

Everywhere. Anytime. Anyplace.

In the mornings when they were trying to grasp the last remnants of sleep especially. Usually she could squeak a yes out of him for anything during that time. This time it was always a hard and fast no followed by sweet lingering kisses. While she would not turn her nose up at well placed kisses (good gods Lucas was good with that mouth of his when he wasn’t running it off) she was determined to convince him to let her at least help with spelling.

Once he saw how absolutely serious she was about this whole ordeal he finally broke down and allowed her to help. Granted, she was sure Amani being Amani also had him cracking. Amani was a darling and Maeve was glad they were friends but uhh…

Not much filter on her especially when it came to Lucas. Oooh boy. She would never forget the ‘congrats’ cake Amani baked. It was delicious, sure, but Maeve was sure you could see her and Lucas’s blushing faces from another country.

The point being she finally broke him down and so there they sat in the kitchen, a little bit of fading sunlight leaking through the cracked curtains.

She tried to hide how happy this made her, starting off their lesson. “Okay so I’m going to need to see an example of something you have so I know where we can start,” she started off, sitting across from him.

He blushed a little, fidgeting. She let out a little sigh, fingers tapping on the table lightly. “Mo shíorghrá I can’t do much based on nothing. Do you know the alphabet?”

His face turned redder. “Y-Yes of course I know the alphabet!” he sputtered.

She chuckled, resting her cheek on her fist. “Don’t get testy with me, you haven’t given me much to work off of. Now do you have anything you’ve written?”

“I...uhh have a practice sheet of a menu,” he muttered, not quite meeting her eyes. She could tell where this was going.

“...can you give it to me?”

She could see the paper in his hands, did he have that the entire time? It didn't matter since he had it.

“Promise you won’t laugh?” he asked, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

“Amani has ruined you,” she said with a low sigh, looking at him. “I won’t laugh.” He didn’t seem convinced. She stood, leaning over the table holding out her pinky. “Pinky swear.”

He hooked his pinky through hers, bringing their hands up to his lips. She had to lean a little farther, one of her legs lifting off the ground as he kissed her hand, amused.

“Oh don’t give me that, giant.” There was a low scoff in her voice, he bit her hand gently at the nickname. She knew he hated it. It’s why she used it. “Now hand over the menu idea, the light is wasting away!”

She grabbed the paper he set on the table, falling back into her chair as their pinkies unwrapped from one another. Sometimes she’d forget how big he was in comparison to her. It was always a little shock when they held hands and his enveloped hers.

He always did comment on how cold her hands were. Her response back was usually about how she was the cold one to balance his human heater tendencies (and she didn’t mind him warming her up.)

Relaxing into her chair she looked over the paper.

She had to fight to keep her jaw firmly locked in place.

Good stars above his handwriting. It wasn’t the worst thing she had ever seen in the world, at least it was legible but…

“This is basically chicken-scratch,” she said, voice flat.

The blush fled to the tips of his ears. “I-I know that!”

She inspected the little notes around the paper. His mouth hung open when he saw what she was doing.

One note had her smiling a little to herself. ‘Can I try imitating Maeve’s handwriting? That’s appealing and nice to look at. It’s very pretty.’

“You like my handwriting?” she asked, looking up at him. Looking at the menu ideas closer she could see remnants of her loopy ‘y’s and how she dotted her ‘i’s in the paper. She felt almost honoured in a way.

Of course it needed a bit of work, but it was still sweet.

He coughed, looking away from her. If his face could get any redder it did. “D-Don’t read too much into it.”

She grinned. “Ah I see. You think it’s super pretty but don’t want to say.” His ears grew redder. She took it as a yes. “Okay okay I’ll stop teasing. For now we can focus on some words you’re struggling with spelling and your penmanship.”

She inspected the paper closer. She could tell Amani helped, there weren’t many spelling mistakes. It made her job easier.

Though one stood out to her.

How he spelled ‘circle’.

Sikerl.

“...you spelled ‘circle’ wrong.”

“I did?!”

“It’s umm...not the worst spelling I have ever seen, but we uhh...are gonna have to work on that one.”

He sulked, crossing his arms. She giggled, scooting a sheet of paper in front of him. He took it along with a pen, their fingers brushing. She pulled her hand away before he could lace their hands together and try to get out of it.

She knew his tactics. Not today mister.

“So first off I’m going to show you how to spell it and hopefully you can remember. If not, that’s okay we have all night.” She got to her feet to stretch her arms. It was going to be a while.

He seemed to wilt. “All night?”

“Well unless you have other plans?”

He looked at her, quirking an eyebrow with a little smirk. She narrowed her eyes, setting her hands on her hips.

“Nah ah. Don’t even think about it. You need to spell circle right first. Then we’ll talk.”

He fell back into his chair with a pout.

To say this was going to be a long process would be another understatement.

She stared at the paper in front of her, leaning over his shoulder to give it a once over. “I have never seen ‘circle’ spelled wrong so many times on the same sheet of paper,” she said, dumbfounded. “This has got to be some kind of record.”

She rubbed her eyes, looking over at him. It was getting pretty late.

Lucas, of course, was sulking again. She knew his moods, and sometimes sulking could mean anger.

This was not anger but frustration. Both at circles and her. Probably because she hasn’t let him leave the table other than for bathroom breaks and a little stretch break.

“Can we just end the lesson here and go to bed?” he asked, eyes pleading with her.

She shot him a low glare with no heat. “I know exactly what you’re going to do if I agree and it isn’t sleep.” His face fell, she knew it. “And we aren’t leaving this table until you spell it right at least once. Try again.”

He grumbled to himself as she stood back up. It felt strange having to hunch over to be at eye level with him. Usually it was the other way around.

She still remained over his shoulder, leaning into him a little. She rested her cheek against his back just below his neck, arms wrapping around him. He let out a little grunt at her touch, she smiled a little at the noise. “Oh? Am I being a nuisance?” she asked, voice a little muffled as she shifted her face to bury her nose in his back.

He said nothing in return, but the way he tensed around her was indication enough. If he was going to be grumpy with her she was going to torture him.

When he put his pencil down she looked up, and back at the paper. Her arms remained around his chest, fingers tapping lightly. Driving him up a wall might not be the smartest thing she could do in that very moment but damn was it fun.

“Hm…” she hummed, letting him go to get a better look at the paper. Just by looking at the first few spellings she knew he didn’t get it again.

He noticed her disappointed humming and started moving closer to her, pressing light kisses down the side of her neck.

She almost leaned into the touch. Almost.

As much as she craved the release and his touch she had a job to do. And the number one priority was getting the damn word spelled right.

She shifted away from him, a low whine coming from his throat. “After you spell this right then you can maybe have a treat,” she said with a wink.

He glowered at her, shifting closer. “But you’ve done so much already! Worked yourself to death today, don’t you deserve a break?”

Oh no he was going to compliment her into giving in. Little conniving bastard.

He kissed her neck again, trailing up her skin to her cheek. He kissed the sweet spot behind her ear, tucking her hair behind it as well. She almost melted into him, hands curling into fists.

She turned her head, capturing his lips before he could do any more damage to her resolve. He took it as a victory, surging up to meet her, rising up out of his chair.

She pulled away a moment before, placing her hands on his chest and gently pushing him back down. A little smirk flirted across her lips. “Now that you’ve gotten an idea of what’s planned for you if you get this word spelled right, get back to work.”

He whined, looking back at the paper of mistakes. She giggled, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “You have some time, and if you don’t get it today there’s always tomorrow.”

He groaned but got back to work.

She waited a bit, walking away to go do something else while she waited. She was in the middle of putting dishes away when he called her back over to check his spelling.

She wouldn’t be embarrassed to admit there was a little extra sway in her step as she walked back over to him.

His arms immediately went around her waist, burying his face in her chest. She sighed, petting his hair.

This was going to take a while.

“Once I look these over we can go to bed.” He unburied his face to give her a look of pure joy. “To sleep.” The look fell and it was back to lip jutting out childish pouting. Sometimes she wondered who was the influence. The kids on the dock or him.

She chuckled, looking at the paper.

“Still no, but we can work on it tomorrow,” she said, scratching his scalp a little. She felt a little bad. She pushed him a little too far. She just wanted to help him but she was starting to get frustrated as well.

Without another word he bundled her into his arms, scooping her off the ground and carried her into their room. She laughed all the while.

It was like he needed to get as far away from the paper as possible, and she didn’t blame him. Spelling was hard, but she was still in disbelief he was struggling this badly with how to spell circle. She had shown him four times.

That night she didn’t let them go farther than a few kisses (much to his dismay, she was going through with the punishment. Until he spelled ‘circle’ right he was getting squat.)

Day two did not go any better than day one.

She sat across the table from him this time. After he muttered about how distracting she was with how she smelled good enough to eat she decided to eliminate that..distraction.

And sat as far away from him as she could.

Well that still flopped because he kept sending her puppy dog eyes from across the table. Not doing anything.

She sighed. “Get four spellings down and I’ll come back over.”

The way he got back to work so quickly reminded her of a dog. She giggled to herself. If she focused hard enough she could almost see the tail wagging behind him.

His eyes flicked up to meet hers. “What?”

She waved him off, smiling to herself. “Oh nothing.”

He squinted at her for a moment before looking back at his paper. When he was done he crooked a finger at her.

She didn’t move from her spot, glaring at him. Oh he was not going to do that to her. “Unless you spelled ‘circle’ right you have no right calling me over like a dog,” she sniffed, getting to her feet.

He set a hand on her knee as she bent over to look at the paper, whispering in her ear. His breath warmed her skin. “Well, for all your whining you sure came to me like one.” She looked at him, offended.

He smirked. Her brows creased with her annoyance. “Well you look like one,” she replied.

His eyebrows shot straight up into his hairline. She turned to go over his paper again. He leaned in closer to her again, kissing the shell of her ear. She had to suppress a shiver.

Bastard.

“And you sound like one.”

She was going to strangle him but first...maybe she’d play his game. Ignoring the paper (with no right spellings, once again. She’d have to show him. Again.) she tilted his head up with one finger. Kissing the side of his face up to his ear she let him sigh.

Trying not to smirk she nibbled on his earlobe. His hand tightened on her leg. She released his earlobe, whispering something with a little extra growl in her voice. “Woof.”

She moved away from him, smiling to herself. He sat there for a moment, with the most dumbstruck expression on his face. Ha, victory.

The moment she looked at his paper though, his arms were around her again and he was tugging her into his lap. She let out a little yelp, arms going around his neck to keep from tipping over off the chair. “That’s not fair,” he muttered to her neck.

She snorted, trying to move to see his paper again. He didn’t budge, so she was as good as stuck for a while. “I don’t play fair, you know this.”

“Yeah but won’t you take mercy on your poor, tired, love-of-your-life?” he asked, the puppy dog eyes making a return. When he leaned in to kiss her again she placed her hands over his mouth.

“And you call me a dog,” she scoffed, wiggling a little in his grasp. His thigh jerked under her. “Now lemme go you big lug. You’ve still got to spell ‘circle’ right.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes!” she wheezed, pushing his face as she tried to break free of his grip. He wasn’t going to let her go that easily. She let out a ‘hmph’ and twisted around. “Fine. If you won’t let me go I’ll just check from here.”

He didn’t argue with her from there, a small victory on her part. Maybe it was better if Amani taught him. At least then he wouldn’t have any distractions.

Granted he might be dead by the time she was done. Hmmm...there were pros and cons to having Amani help. Her eyes flicked over each of the spellings. None were right. But one was close at least.

Sirkel

Serkol

Sickle

Circel

“Hmm wow the last one is close!” she said with a smile, looking at him over her shoulder. His eyes lit up. “You just got to switch two of the letters. And let me go.” She wiggled again, pushing at his arms.

“So I just switch two letters and I’m free to go?”

“Mmhmm! If they’re the right ones of course.”

He looked determined and finally released her. She scrambled away before he could draw her back into him. As much as she appreciated sitting on his lap now was not the time.

“Two letters! Got it!” he said, scrawling out the word on the paper.

He pushed it over to her, pride seeping into his face. She smiled, humming a little looking at the paper again.

“...uhh…”

Cricel

“It’s worse.”

“What do you mean it’s worse?! I did what you told me to!”

“Yeah but you swapped the wrong letters!”

“You told me to swap two of the letters!”

“Yeah not the wrong ones! I told you not to swap the wrong ones!”

He grumbled. “This is stupid. Circles are stupid. Writing is stupid.”

“Next up we work on your vocabulary.”

He shot her a low glare. It held no heat but it made her giggle.

“Shaddup,” he muttered. She kissed his cheek, still giggling to herself.

“Here I’ll show you how to spell it again and then you can go.” She leaned over again, not paying attention to where she was leaning and what was in his direct line of sight.

She kept her pen work neat (sometimes when moving fast her handwriting looked nothing more than scribbles), keeping all the loops she now knew he liked. When she looked over at him again she realized her mistake.

Quickly (quicker than she thought he could move) he scooped her up again, kissing her face. She let out a squeal, trying to get out of his grip again.

“L-L-L-L-LUCAS!” she gasped through her laughter, trying to escape again.

“Mmmfph no I’m done,” he said, voice muffled. “No more circles. They’re evil.”

She snorted, putting her palms on his cheeks to push him away. His lips puckered as she pressed his face together. She leaned in closer. “I spelled it on the paper. I showed you how to spell it. I can try and help you remember it so I’m gonna need you to try again.”

His brows creased. She sighed. “Please.”

“Fwmine.” He couldn’t really talk with her hands on his face.

“And let me go.”

“Nwo.”

She rolled her eyes, releasing his face and resigned to her fate. He wrote out ‘circle’ so fast she could barely comprehend what was happening before he lifted her up off the chair. “There. Now I’m done.”

“But I need to-”

“Done. I am done.”

He kissed her neck, lifting her up with his hands on her upper thighs. She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck as she got used to being carried. “You do know we have to do this all over again tomorrow to make sure you remember how to spell it, right?”

He howled in pain.

Day three at the very least, went better than day two and day one.

Mostly because she gave him the proper motivation after cock-blocking him again the night before.

She rubbed her temples. “So now, what did we learn yesterday?” she asked, sitting on the table next to him.

“Um the tub is too small for the both of us?”

She cracked an eye open. He wasn’t wrong. Most of the water ended up on the floor. It was a mess to clean up. “Yes that and you should learn to keep your hands to yourself. You haven’t earned anything just yet mister struggling to spell circle on day three. But that’s not what I meant.”

His lip jutted out again as he pouted. “Yeah yeah. Circle is not spelled how I’ve been spelling it. I get it.”

“Mmmhmm.” She hummed, stretching her arms above her head. “But that’s okay circle is spelled really stupidly, but!” she started, dropping her hands to braid her hair over her shoulder as she spoke. “I’m going to give you proper motivation so we can finally move on to something different.”

Curiosity sparked in his eyes. She smiled, humming a little as she swung her legs. “I’m going to give you a few tries to spell it. Five tries to be exact. Spell it wrong every time and you’re sleeping on the floor.”

“What?! That’s not fair!”

She tsked. “Motivation M’fhíorghrá, motivation.”

“...and if I spell it right?”

She looked up. “Hmm...haven’t thought that far.”

“...such confidence in me, I’m honoured.”

She snorted. “I haven’t thought of something you’d want.”

His eyes flicked over her form. She felt her cheeks warm.“I can think of something.”

She stuck her tongue out. “Oh hush you. Get to work now.”

He grumbled, but looked back down at the paper. The first few times he got it wrong. When he was on his fourth try she started to get exasperated.

He kept looking at her hair. “You know that’s an invitation to ruin, right?” he asked. She touched the braid snaking around her shoulder, letting out a raspberry like sigh.

“Yes I do. And if you don’t fucking spell ‘circle’ right you’re gonna suffer knowing you couldn’t ruin it while sleeping on the floor.” She mostly muttered it to herself, it slipping out with her frustration.

He spelled it wrong again.

She let out a low sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Three days. Maybe she wasn’t as good as a teacher as she thought? Or maybe it was just them goofing around.

Even so she was tired and she knew he was as well. “Lucas I swear to the goddess above I will let you fuck me on this table if you can spell it right once. I know we both hate this, because circles are dumb. But we really should be doing other things.”

He froze in place, slowly turning his head to look at her. His voice was low and husky. “Is that a promise?”

She rolled her eyes, leaning back a little keeping her balance by hooking her hands under the table. She kicked her legs a little, looking up at the ceiling. “I swear I will, just spell it right!”

He moved fast, pausing to think for a moment. When he finished, she checked over the page with a flourish. He groaned as she took her sweet time, fearing for the worst.

She was going to draw it out for a while but… “You spelled it right!” she said with a cheer, forgetting her filter. Dang it.

There were many emotions flying across his face at once.

From relief, to joy, to something else.

She swallowed a little as his eyes darkened a little and he smiled. “I do remember a promise,” he said, getting to his feet. Even when she was standing he towered over her.

But since she was sitting on their kitchen table, he was like a colossus. He nudged her legs apart, standing between them. He leaned in closer and she leaned back away from him, falling onto the table. He placed his hands on either side of her face.

“You promised,” he reminded her once again, a little song seeping into his voice.

She swallowed again, knowing her freckles were glowing brighter at those two words. Heat sparked in her stomach, a blush dusting her cheeks. He knew what those meant and his smile grew absolutely wolfish.

After a moment she smiled as well, running her hands through his hair. It was soft and messy. She tugged on a knot, making him sink into her touch. She lifted her hips to brush his.

“I do go through with my promises.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana oc #maeve #lucas #maeve x lucas #lucas is not mine im stealing him for a while tho #making dela regret letting me ship them 2021 lmao #ur getting fed quite a lot today aint ya #yes I know no one is gonna read but this aint for you #this is my self indulgent blog now lol XD #fluff #maeve tries to help #it does not go super well #lucas is horni on main smh #beta'd myself once again #apologizes for any mistakes #this GETS SO LONG OMFG #I TALK WAY TOO DAMN MUUUCH #merry christmas have two horni beans #no smut because I cannot for the life of me write it #💀💀💀#smut writers are the backbone of this fandom #same with the artists lol #anyways I rambled enough in the tags of my own post for one day #also im air high fiving u Sabina #today we make Dela smile #😎👉👉#my writing #arcana fics

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ohthatsviolet · 5 years

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How about mirage x caustic fanfic??

Here you go, anon! I wasn’t sure if you wanted fluff or something nsfw but I decided since I’ve been writing a lot of smut lately I’d go with something tame.

Mirage x Caustic

Mirage was a strange one. Caustic never understood how one person could have such a range of emotions. Mirage was the type to boast about his abilities and achievements in the legend’s lounge but seemed to falter and become more self conscious of his worth when in the ring. Caustic wouldn’t admit it to anyone, and certainly not to Mirage, but he found the man strangely fascinating.

It started of with mere observations. The way, Mirage would saunter into a room and tell tales of his victories, only to become embarrassed when praised by anyone else. The way he’d always slick his hair back before speaking to anyone, only for it to drift back into his eyes moments later. He’d always heed advice from others about healthy eating but, had an intense liking for chocolate. In the quieter moments, he’d whip out his laptop and notebook and begin working on improving his gear. This could go one of three ways; with him drumming his pen on the table out of frustration, him thoughtfully running the pen over his lips when considering a new idea, or with him staring aloofly into the distance for some time, eyes eventually sparkling with inspiration. All typically ended with him furiously typing into his laptop.

All of this had been observed and mentally noted by Caustic. The other legends had teased him about his newfound fascination with Mirage, but they didn’t understand. Everything Caustic did was for his love of science. He would never pay this much attention to someone for his own satisfaction. Personal pleasure was for those of weaker mind. What really caused a stir, was the day Caustic asked Mirage to join to his squad, so he could engage in closer observations. He received a chorus of childish “oooooh's” from those around them, when the younger legend accepted his offer.

They worked reasonably well together for two people who should have clashing personalities. Mirage surprisingly had an apt understanding of weaponry and would always take the time to modify Caustic’s weapons for him. In return, the chemist was forced into a pinky promise that he would stop grumbling at Mirage’s jokes. It was only after this, that Caustic realised his jokes weren’t so terrible and he was actually quite witty. He could remember multiple occasions where he was thankful his gas mask muffled his laughter.

Caustic missed the jokes when they stopped. Mirage had been more quiet and distant lately. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the other man was purposely avoiding him. He was sure there must be some scientific explanation for why the absence of Mirage’s constant nattering was making it difficult for him to concentrate in the games. It seemed the less the trickster spoke, the more Caustic was invaded by thoughts of him. It wasn’t like him to focus on anything but his experiments. Maybe he was sick. Perhaps it was time for a trip to the medical wing.

The trapper sighed thoughtfully to himself, as crouched inside one of the buildings in Skull Town, trying to scrape together as much energy ammo as possible. This wouldn’t have been his first choice to drop, but Mirage didn’t have a preference this round and Caustic wasn’t in the mood to argue with their third squadmate when they insisted on coming here. Of course, they had run guns blazing into the heart of the fighting and got themselves killed, and he hadn’t seen or heard anything from Mirage since they landed. It remained this way for a while, until Caustic heard a series of swears and colourful phrasing come through his communication device.

“F-fuck, s-shit…dammit”, Mirage stammered breathlessly, as he stumbled into Caustic’s building, slamming the door behind him. Without thinking, the scientist immediately hopped to his feet and rushed to the other. Mirage was holding his side, which was bleeding profusely, his suit rapidly being stained red. “What happened?”, Caustic asked, as he watched the holographic trickster, slump against the wall, eventually sliding down to sit on the floor. “S-sniper”, he answered. “Don’t worry, the shot sounded far”. Caustic nodded at this and reached into his backpack, producing a medkit, which he left next to the other man.

Mirage let the back of his head rest against the wall, still clutching his side and attempting to breath through the pain. Caustic noticed he was not making any attempt to heal himself, and decided to speak up. The look of sheer agony on Mirage’s face was making him feel…strange. He cleared his throat and gestured to the medical kit, “Are you going to use that?”. Mirage groaned in pain when he tried to move. “I…I will. Just…gimme a second”.

Caustic dropped to his knees and took the med kit in his hands, trying to think of the best way to proceed. “I…um…Allow me”. He placed the med kit to one side, so he could use his hands to undo the other’s tactical belt, getting it out of the way so he could pull the top half of Mirage’s suit up, exposing his wound. “Heh, you could at least buy me dinner first”, Mirage quipped, before immediately cringing at what he just said. Caustic paid no attention to the remark, his full focus on the toned abdomen exposed to him. Luckily for him, Mirage didn’t seem to notice his staring. He was too busy trying to not make eye contact. He could feel his face beginning to flush.

Caustic was eventually able to bring himself back to reality and began administering the med kit, occasionally checking Mirage’s face for any signs of discomfort. It was only then, he noticed the other looking away, biting his lip and appearing more red in the face by the second. Caustic’s thoughts began to be plagued by possibilities, until his sensible side got the better of him; “You are in the desert. His reaction has nothing to do with you or what you are doing. It is the desert. Of course he’s hot…or um…above desirable temperature”.

Caustic wiped his hands on his lab apron when he was done. “T-thanks for…that”, Mirage spoke, as he began dressing himself. “I uh…honestly thought you’d be the last person to give a damn about me. A-about me, y’know, being s-shot that is”. The trapper was caught off guard by the statement. “I do care…I uhh…that is, I care about winning”, he fumbled over his words. “I know that you are my teammate and keeping you at…optimal functioning is beneficial to my own success”. Mirage toyed with the cuff of his sleeve awkwardly. “Y-yeah. Me too”.

The sound of footsteps outside came as a relief to them both. Anything was better than this situation they’d found themselves in. “That’s probably whoever shot me”, Mirage said, lowering his voice. He swore softly when he tried to stand up, his wound still in the process of healing. Caustic beckoned for him to sit back down, as be began to rig the room with gas traps. “Stay here, I will deal with them”, he ordered.

Mirage backed himself into a corner, and began taking slow deep breaths before inhaling deeply and holding it. Although people on Caustic’s team were offered nose filters to help them combat the gas, Mirage knew from experience they weren’t worth a damn, and being trapped in a room rigged by Caustic was never fun, whether you were on his team or not. Caustic observed him for a moment before realising what he was trying do. He mumbled something to himself before undoing the clasp of his gas mask and securing it around Mirage’s face before he could protest. Mirage was momentarily stunned by this, but managed to call after Caustic as he began to leave the room, “Hey w-wait! Don’t you need this?”. “I will be fine”. “Well…at least take this”. Caustic turned to see Mirage tearing his scarf from around his neck before tossing it at him.

Caustic couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the gesture, knowing the thin fabric wouldn’t do much against his gas traps. He decided to humour the younger legend regardless, giving him a curt nod as he wrapped the scarf around his face. Caustic’s cheeks began to burn as he left the room, the smell of Mirage’s cologne clouding his senses. He was definitely coming down with something. Undoubtedly, a trip to the medical wing was urgently needed.

#apex legends #apex legends mirage #apex mirage #apex legends caustic #apex caustic #elliott witt #alexander nox #mirage x caustic #caustic x mirage

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barpurplewrites · 7 years

Text

Currently untitled Star Trek AOS Fic

A random idea that occurred to me a while back. Not sure what to call it so suggestions welcome

Teen and Up

Spock/Uhura

Pon Farr. Humour (hopefully)

-x-x-x-

Kirk discreetly smothered another yawn and wondered just how much was left of this particular ceremony. The Enterprise was opening official trade relations with Ho’lat, a matriarchal race who had very particular protocols for business relations. He and Spock had been involved in the reading of the terms of trade for the last two hours. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Spock shuffle again, even the Vulcan was getting uncomfortable. The ceremony finally came to an end Kirk made the correct farewells to the Ho’lat and turned to Spock with a sigh. A frown quickly replaced he’s relived expression.

“What’s wrong Spock?”

“I assure you I am quite well captain.”

Kirk’s eyebrows rose at Spock’s blatant lie.

“You’re sweating and shaking.”

“It is nothing Jim.”

Now Kirk knew something was very wrong. Spock almost never called him Jim, and the snarl in his voice sounded almost emotional. A quick look around the room located Bones, who hurried over at Kirk’s not so subtle beckoning. The doctor took one look at Spock and blanched.

“We need a private room and Urhura. Now.”

The doctor’s tone was so commanding that Kirk found his feet moving toward the exit before his brain had a chance to question what was going on. He led them to the private room his status as captain had granted him, once the door was closed he managed to ask a very important question.

“What the hell is going on?”

Spock’s hands balled into fists, sweat was pouring from him now, his only answer to Kirk’s question was a low growl. Kirk grabbed Bones and dragged him to one side.

“Is this Pon farr?”

“Oh well done, you didn’t sleep through all the Vulcan cultural classes then.”

The captain and the doctor exchange a frustrated look, behind them Spock was desperately attempting to regain control, but failing as the hormonal changes swamped his system.

“Doctor McCoy, please do not discuss my condition with the captain. Where is my mate?”

His question was delivered in a growl that sent a shiver down Kirk’s spine. The other thing he remembered from the Academy’s Vulcan cultural classes was that a male Vulcan’s strength could increase tenfold during Pon farr. He already had first-hand experience of Spock’s right hook; he did not want to risk a blow from him in this state. He whispered his plan to Bones.

“I’ll get her, but she’s in the linguistics meeting, it could take a while.”

“There are things I do medically for him until then, but hurry the hell up.”

Bones shoved him out of the door and locked it. He squared his shoulders and flexed his hands.

“Spock. I am your doctor. I can help you until Uhura arrives.”

“That will not be necessary Doctor.”

“Really? Because I think a hormonal Vulcan running around this protocol obsessed planet would be about as useful as a teetotaller at a whiskey tasting.”

It was reassuring that Spock still had enough control of himself to frown as McCoy’s choice of phrase.

“Very well Doctor, what do you propose?”

Bones moved to stand opposite Spock; he raised his right hand with his ring and pinkie finger tuck under his thumb, his other two fingers extended.

“Don’t ask me to pronounce it, but this meditation will help you relax.”

Spock nodded slowly and mirrored McCoy’s hand. Bones closed the small gap between their hands allowing their fingers to touch. He paused for a beat and then ran his fingers over the back of Spock’s, muttering to himself as he did so; “Down, round, up, reverse, down, round, up.”

“Focus on your breathing Doctor.”

Bones rolled his eyes; “Sorry, this is my first time.”

----

Kirk had managed to interrupt the linguistics meeting, only stumbling on the correct protocol once.

“Mother Ambassador, my sincerest apologies, a time sensitive matter has arisen. The presence of Lieutenant Uhura is required with the upmost speed.”

The Ho’lat ambassador bow and made her farewells to Uhura. Kirk held himself still and fought the urge to grab Uhura’s arm and drag her from the room, protocol be dammed. Finally they made it out to the corridor and Kirk was able to softly say; “It’s Spock. Pon farr.”

“It’s a week early. Where is he?”

“In the private room the Ho’lat gave me. He’s with Bones.”

“Okay, we’re going to need privacy for the at least the next four hours.”

Kirk’s step faltered, “Four hours? Wow.”

“Captain. Shut up.”

“Yes ma’am.”

----

Bones’ hand was working on muscle memory now and he was inhaling and exhaling in the correct pattern. A sudden flash of Uhura in the throes of passion popped into his mind, almost making him break contact with Spock. His professionalism kept his hand moving, his patient’s needs outweighing his embarrassment. Spock dipped his head to avoid the doctor’s eyes.

“My apologies Doctor, a mild mind meld can be a side effect of this procedure.”

Bones blinked rapidly as he tried to clear the images of Uhura from his mind. Who would have thought Spock was capable of such passion?

“Woah. I’ll forget everything I promise.”

Spock raised an eyebrow; “As will I regarding your intimate encounter with Nurse Chapel.”

Bones bit back his snarky reply as Spock’s head snapped up and his eyes fixed on the door.

“Now what?”

“My mate.”

The door opened and Uhura rushed inside a stream of Vulcan flowing from her lips as she moved towards Spock. Bones barely avoided being sandwiched between the two of them as they embraced. He stumbled into Kirk as he made a hasty exit dragging the captain into the hallway in his wake.

“Are you alright, Bones?”

McCoy gave a full body shudder and jerked his thumb at the locked door.

“You need to make sure they aren’t interrupted.”

Bones’ started off down the corridor art a fast pace, but Kirk managed to catch his arm before he’d gone too far.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the ship to raid Chekov’s locker. I’m prescribing myself four fingers of bourbon to get the Vulcan out of my brain. I’ll send someone along with ear plugs for you”

Kirk’s head jerked around to stare at the closed door, “Wait? Earplugs?”

Bones had vanished around the corner leaving Jim to wonder if he was joking or not. He took up position outside the door to ensure that Spock and Uhrua were given all the privacy they needed to do, well he didn’t really want to think about it too much. Ten minutes later he discovered that Bones had not been joking at all.

#spock/uhura #Star Trek AOS #fanfic

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