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thekillingjoke-haha · 3 years

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Back To Black

Summary: Young love is so innocent and juvile now seemingly worlds apart that once childish flame seems to be more

@craftygamerscrafts

Black Noir was never always a faceless part of the seven he had a childhood which contrast to popular belief was actually nice he had a house hold that raised him to properly manage his emotions so his powers stayed within his control,but the part of him that truly made him the way he is...Y/n L/n.

His best friend and crush since the days in the playground sandbox. James was at the time unaware why he felt such joy being in her presence though once they parted ways after high school he understood those feelings weren't so friendly as first appearance. Love was confusing to him he never had much affection growing up unless it was from her so he always assumed as they got older those lingering stares,the hugs that always squeezed so tight,and those soft lips pressed against his forehead or cheek we kind gestures of friendship. They were polar opposites he was what people described as the bad boy while she was a social butterfly. If only he didn't stay with his safe bet and realized before she left to college so far away without a single goodbye.

James sat two rows behind Y/n she was smiling brightly clapping respectfully each time someone walked across. The week before they celebrated him being accepted to be a junior seven member till he reached age his dream was coming true. "For our honor student valedictorian Y/n L/n!" James was not shy to admit,but he did make the loudest noise smiling broadly when her eyes locked onto him. "We have a special honor our to give to you Ms.L/n a letter directly from Harvard one of your chosen colleges. You've been accepted for a full ride." They were both in shock as the uproar of people yelling and cheering. Harvard was so far away from Vought headquarters. That's when both of their hearts seemed to creak his turning cold at the fact she'd be gone.

"You never told me you wanted to go to Harvard." James was changed out of his blue robe playing with the chain on his pants. "I never thought they'd accept me especially right after high school." She layed her head on his shoulder as they sat in the bed of her truck he would have been relaxed if this was any other night,but the stiffness in his muscles was the equivalent of a predator tense and ready to strike. "Where you going to ever tell me you applied or did you just plan to pack up and leave?" His words were like a backhand causing her to sit up looking at him appalled. "You would have been the first to tell if I got that letter." James scoffed his emotions were getting the better of him. "Yeah right so much for being my so called best friend." The hurt that filled her eyes was making him regret everything,but there was no time for that. "What so I'm not you best friend because I want to be something?! Because that's my only option! If you didn't notice I'm not a super I can't pretend that us running off to the superhero capital filled with the most crime is the safest bet for me." Y/n had tears pooling and James wanted to say he'd always protect her if she just came along with him. "If your so safe away from superheros,away from me, then do us both a favor end this here and leave."

Y/n sniffled wiping her eyes as she got out the bed of the truck she refused to speak anymore what said was said. James got out to and went walking down the street to his home. She got in the driver's seat and drove off into the night. That weekend James felt like shit and bought (favorite flowers) and some of her favorite sweets and came to her home. At the door her father stood tall and raised a brow confused. "Why are you here?" He didn't say it like he was upset which was surprising. "To see Y/n." It was F/n turn to be surprised. "She left on Friday. We packed everything and she told us you were busy,but she'd say bye when she drove by your place." The young adults heart shaddered his last words to her was telling to end their argument and leave. If we wasn't a coward and apologized sooner she might of stayed long enough for them to fix their friendship maybe so he could confess his harbored feelings. The time never came she went her way and ut was time for him to go his both of them broken hearted and yearning.

James or better known as Black Noir gazed at the party goers. He's always hated these parties everyone ignored his existence especially since he didn't speak up. Trying to grab a glass of champagne the tray was moved to quickly past him. Behind the mask he sighed about to walk to the bar towards were someone could at least acknowledge he wanted something to drink. A gental hand placed itself on his shoulder he turned around not yet looking at the owner of said and,but rather the glass of sparkling gold liquid he accepted it in his hand softly brushing the slim fingers with his gloved hands. "Looked like you needed a drink,Jamie." That nickname was so forgin to him no one called him James in years,but only one person called him Jamie. His cover face turned to look at her his breath froze on his throat choking him. No matter how much time past he still recognizes her.

Y/n looked at him a soft smile on her painted lips. Stunning was the first word that came to mind she looked older,but that seemed to only add to her beauty a f/c dress hugged her curves that use to be hidden under his sweaters and t-shirts. James looked down to see if she wore heels given that she was the same height as him seeing the five inch heel she didn't do much growing since their departure. Her hair was styled in a confortable yet elegant way. "Can't a old friend get a hello?" Her voice was angelic the most gracful noise that ever could be heard. James took her hand within his own guiding her through the crowd to get to the balcony. After escaping the room full of people he sighed in relief. "Y-y/n when? Why? How?" He didn't know which question to ask first. "I've been living in the city for a year. I got my dream job every year or so I go to different devious helping people. Volt thought it'd be perfect having me here show off that even though they cause more problems then solve having public opinion is still needed." She always knew what he wanted to say even if he didn't have to utter a word. His large hands cupped her cheeks his thumb rubbing over her cheekbone. "I'm sorry." Those two words held such depthed all the apologizes he never got to say to the one person he never stopped loving. "I know...I forgived you along time ago Jamie. I just wished I had the will to say goodbye with words."

James ungloved his hand to feel her wiping away the tears that slipped past her eyes. Leaning forward his forehead touching hers as he gently blew out the breath he was holding. Y/n puffed out a watery laugh as she kissed his masked face if they weren't in public he would have ripped of his mask to feel those lips that he missed so much. Being apart was like dying a hundred time for both of them,but she came back to him. She went back to black.

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A/n: This was a idea I had long ago and someone requesting some black noir was just the perfect time.

To the anonymous that wanted Natasha x reader is coming next just gotta find more inspiration.

#the boys #black noir #black noir x reader #james(black noir) x reader #childhood love #friends to lovers #friends to strangers #back to black #x fem!reader #angst with a happy ending #fluff #drift apart #argument

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novoaa1writes · 3 years

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“hey. wanna bang?”

pairing: mazikeen x f!reader

summary: you meet maze on a night out at lux. the two of you hit it off, and end up sleeping together. you leave the next morning thinking it’s a one-off, but maze seems to have other ideas...

rating: teen

word count: ~1,300

warnings: implied sexual content, implied sex, minor blood and injury (not to either of you), maze being prone to violence and always ready to stab a bitch

notes: none? i don’t think? i just haven’t seen that many maze x reader works so figured i’d contribute something. also available on ao3

— —

You remember meeting Mazikeen like it was yesterday.

It was late—quarter after midnight, maybe, and you were drunk. Well, not drunk. More like buzzed.

After all, why shouldn’t you be? Your finals were over, you already had more than enough in your savings for next month’s rent, and your friend Vanya had managed to get the two of you on the list for Lux, the most popular nightclub in the city.

It was just for one night, of course, but it was still pretty freaking cool regardless—sleek leather upholstery, a bar taking up the entirety of one wall, a spotless grand piano on the ground floor. In short, Lux made your guys’ go-to nightclub look like a shitty dive bar in comparison.

Vanya had just left to go home with some dapper twenty-something woman in a suit, leaving you alone at the bar amidst a gaggle of exceedingly well-dressed people knocking back your third $20 shot of the night.

With that, you were about ready to call it quits and send for an Uber to take you back home… except, it seemed, the night had other plans for you.

Or, perhaps you should say Maze had other plans for you.

She sidled up next to you at the bar, shoving over a lip-locked couple to make room for herself. If she felt the man turn to glower at her or the woman scoff and roll her eyes at her rudeness, she didn’t let on.

“Hey,” she said, not even bothering to hide the way she was eyeing you up and down like a predator would its prey. “Wanna bang?”

And… well. Turns out, you very much did want to “bang.”

You awoke buried in a mess of sheets atop a very nice bed in a loft that probably cost at least twice your yearly tuition, a fully-naked Mazikeen staring down at you with a quizzical expression.

You startled fully awake with a jolt, but managed to recover and flash her a shaky smile in the interest of keeping things casual, or... something.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hello,” she said. She was still staring, completely unapologetic.

It was strange—like all her boldness and audacity from the night before had suddenly vanished, replaced by… well, by what, you weren’t quite sure.

“How long have you been awake?” you asked.

She tilted her head slightly to the side, though her eyes didn’t leave you. “Hours.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, tracked the movements of her fingers brushing your skin with rapt attention. “You look.... not unpleasant when you sleep,” she said finally, then winced as she retracted her hand as though it physically pained her to do so. “For a human.”

You blinked, taken aback. The hell did that mean? “... Thanks?”

Her lips twitched. “You’re welcome.”

You giggled. “You’re weird.” Caution bled into her gaze, and you rushed to reassure her. “No, not bad weird… it’s good. I like it.”

She nodded, though she still looked wary. “Do you have anywhere to be today?”

You yawned, turning your head over to glance at the clock on the nightstand and—

Oh, shit. It was 10:42.

“Fuck!” you shrieked, bolting upright in bed and throwing off the covers. “I’m late!”

“Late for what?” Maze asked. She watched with a vaguely disgruntled expression as you stumbled to your feet, far too frazzled to be abashed about your state of undress, eyes darting wildly around the room in search of your clothes.

“Work!”

And that… that was the first time it happened. Not that you’d expected (in any sense of the word) that this… thing you had was going to continue.

You weren’t exactly the girl who did one-night stands on a weekly basis or anything, but you’d had your fair share. You knew what to expect. Cocktails at the club, drunken sex, quick exit the morning after. Maybe one (or both) of you would stress meaningless pleasantries enough to exchange numbers or say “We should do this again sometime” or maybe even stay for breakfast (rarely), but that’s all they would amount to—meaningless pleasantries.

You’d go to work (or class) the next day, head to the club on the weekend to drink and flirt with some random stranger (a different one this time), and that would be that.

It didn’t matter that the sex was even more fantastic than it ever had been (which it was), or the way your heart skipped a beat when Maze’s fingertips brushed along your jaw (which it had). You knew better than to get hung up over a drunken one-night stand—especially one that started out with “Hey, wanna bang?”

So, imagine your surprise when Maze strode into the 66th Ave Lounge where you worked as a bartender and made a beeline straight for you, gaze narrowed and lips flattened out into a thin line. She almost looked… angry—though, you were beginning to understand that ‘angry’ was pretty much Maze’s natural state of being.

It also seemed like the world had it out for you that day, because right then, some hammered middle-aged jackass from the other end of the bar decided to speak up, making some gross (and blatantly derogatory) comment about your tits.

The effect was immediate: Anger flared like a lit match in Maze’s eyes, and she swiftly changed directions, stomping over to the sleazy man in question with narrowed eyes and murderous intent rolling off of her in waves.

Needless to say, he got his hand skewered to the bar by one of the numerous curved blades on Maze’s person and a swift knee to the crotch for his troubles.

He was screaming bloody murder in a matter of seconds, Maze had procured twin knives seemingly out of nowhere as she bore down, and you didn’t doubt that she’d have finished the job had you not chosen that exact moment to intervene.

“Maze, stop !” you ordered—or, at least, tried to. Your voice trembled horribly, and it was at least an octave higher than usual.

Immediately, she froze.

You fought the sudden urge to shrivel on the spot as she turned her hard gaze upon you, brows raised in something like a challenge.

“Maze, it’s fine,” you told her—pleaded, really. The man whimpered, slumped over the bar, drool and tears wetting the lacquered wood. “He’s drunk. He didn’t mean it.”

“Oh, I think he did.”

“Maze…” You sighed, silently begging her with your eyes. “Please. Even if he did, you’ve punished him enough, don’t you think?”

Maze’s expression softened incrementally, and she heaved a sigh. “Fine.”

She snatched the ringed handle of her blade, yanked it loose from the bar (and the man’s hand) with little effort. The man screamed and sobbed, collapsing down onto the floor the moment he was freed. You fought the urge to grimace at the smear of blood he left on the bar.

“But only because it’s you asking,” she clarified, then turned to loom over the writhing man, pointing down at him menacingly with her bloodied knife. “You say anything about my girl again—hell, you even look at her the wrong way… I’ll find you. And next time, she won’t be there to save your sorry ass. Got it?”

“G-Got it,” the man sobbed, his words choked with tears.

“Good.” With that, Maze’s expression cleared as she turned to give you a calculating look over the bar. “When’s your shift over?”

You blinked, your brain struggling to comprehend what just happened. Primarily: ‘My girl’? “I-I get off at 11:00.”

“Good.” Maze’s full lips curved into a wolfish grin. “I’ll pick you up… and then we can get off.”

Then, she turned on her heel and strutted back out of the lounge without a backwards glance, leaving you confused, terrified, and… ridiculously turned-on in her wake.

Holy shit.

— —

end notes: idk i love maze being soft / confused by human interaction and confounded by Feeling Things™ but also being endlessly stabby because she’s maze and stabbing people is part of her charm

#maze x reader #mazikeen x reader #mazikeen #lucifer #stuff i wrote #lucifer fic #maze x f!reader #mazikeen x f!reader

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lovelystarlings · 3 years

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Chapter One - Goin’ back to Hogwarts, Hogwarts

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The Beauxbatons Academy of Magic was a beautiful chateau located in the north of France, surrounded by majestic gardens, and crystal fountains that were filled with water as clear as the ice sculptures that surrounded them. The place practically oozed elegance, perhaps that's why the Delacour parents had insisted Camille's sister's attend.

The Delacour's had been attending the school for centuries, right up to their grandmother, Dominique Delacour-who had been a full veela in her time. Dominique had married a man by the name of Lancelot Delacour, the father of their mother, Apolline Delacour. Both their father, Monsieur Delacour and their mother had attended Beauxbatons, their father only for a short while before it became an all-girls school. Due to Fleur, Gabrielle and Camille's grandmother being a full veela, the two were ¼ veela; giving them a full scholarship to Beauxbatons as the school had a strict student body of only veela's or veela blooded students, other witches needing to pay a large amount of money to attend.

However, Camille despised the school with a passion. It wasn't the students that went there, or the teachers. Nor was it the headmistress, who she had visited many times on account of helping her learn certain essential spells before she started her schooling at Hogwarts, a school in Britain that her parents had decided to send her to instead of Beauxbaton's. The school just wasn't her type of place, she wasn't fond of all the perfection and balls and girliness, she just hated it. Hence why Camille was so glad her parents were the way they are, she was glad they were understanding and allowed to her to switch.

That lead to her to where she was now, stood at the entrance of Kings Cross train station in London, crying her eyes out with her arms wrapped round her sister, who was sobbing just as much.

"I'll see you soon, ok? Summer's only like what, seven months away? And I might come home for Christmas, who knows?" Her sister sniffled, and Camille was stricken by the realization that she wouldn't see her family for over half a year, which was a long period of time considering they would be in completely different countries as well. Parting from Fleur gently, Camille took a hold of her trolley which held her case and her snowy owl, who she had named Persephone, after one of her favourite Greek myths. Looking down at her ticket and up at the platforms surrounding her, her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips tilted. There wasn't a Platform 9 ¾ in sight. Hearing the ramble of a large family behind her, she turned her head and was reassured to see a group of red heads who looked slightly welcoming and had 'Hogwarts' written on their many cases.

"Excuse me," she spoke gently, her soft French accent showing as she tapped the woman on the shoulder and gestured to the trunk on her trolley.

"D-do you happen to know how to get to Platform 9 ¾ ?" She questioned, the woman who she had tapped jumping round, a wide smile on her face.

"Of course, dear! I was just about to explain it to Harry here," The lady spoke, her hand grasping Camille's hand in a comforting manner as she noticed the tear stains on her cheeks. A black-haired boy stood next to her waved, clearly out of place with the family. "You're a first year too I presume? So are Ron and Harry here." She pointed to the youngest ginger boy, who was staring at the brunette, almost entranced; Camille assumed it was her veela charm.

"Hi. I'm Camille." Camille spoke, her hand reaching out to shake Ron's, who shakily took the hand and shook it, his cheeks now blushing red. Cute, she thought, It matches his hair. "I'm Weasley-I mean Ron, Ron Weasley but you already knew that." Camille giggled slightly, letting the poor boy's hand go and grabbing her trolley as Mrs Weasley began to walk off, gesturing for her to follow.

"All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, Harry, you can go before Ron, and Camille you can go through with Harry."

Camille pushed her trolley round and started to walk towards the barrier, Harry by her side. Fear struck inside the young girl, she and the boy next to her were going to smash into the wall and get scolded by the muggles and then they'd be in trouble. Camille pushed harder on her trolley and ran faster, the barrier coming closer and closer and the trolley wheels wobbling as she began to lose control of it, her feet somehow still solid on the ground as she closed her eyes, ready to smash into the wall-yet the crash didn't come and she slowly opened her eyes.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with families and children with trolleys. A sign overhead read Hogwarts Express in bold black writing and Camille let out a sigh of relief. She locked eyes with the boy beside her, both smiling widely. Peering behind her, Camille spotted another sign that read Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

They had made it.

Camille and Harry made their way through the thick crowd until they eventually found an empty carriage near the very end of the train. Both had agreed that they should stay together as the two were new to Hogwarts, and Camille had begun to inform on the Wizarding World, shocked that he had lived with muggles for so long.

"Hey, do you need a hand with that?" One of the redheaded twins from earlier spoke as he followed through the wall.

"Please," Camille panted, sending a look to Harry who was simply watching her struggle, having already loaded his trunk into the carriage and was waiting for her to load hers up so they could enter.

"Oi, Freddy! Come over here and help the pretty lady!" He yelped over to 'Fred', leading Camille to assume that he was George. With the two's help, Camille's trunk was finally tucked away in the farthest corner of the compartment; she didn't want to risk her personal belongings being stolen.

"Thanks," she spoke as she grabbed Harry's hand and began to pull him up from his slouched position on the nearby bench, when one of the twin's began to point at the boy's forehead.

"Blimey," he spoke, as he leaned closer to Harry, who seemed uncomfortable with the lack of personal space the older boy seemed to have. "Are you-?"

"He is," said George, "Aren't you?" he added, nodding Harry's way, and giving a strange look to Camille, who had no idea what either of them were on about. The French didn't pay much attention to the British wizarding world, even during the Wizarding War they kept to themselves, only fighting in their own country.

"What?"

"Harry Potter," chorused the twins, the name ringing a bell in Camille's mind.

"Oh, him," Harry spoke, nonchalantly shrugging at the statement, "I guess I am."

The two boys stared at him in shock for a few minutes, only leaving reluctantly when they were called by their mother, who gave the other two children a kind smile and wave. Harry took a seat next to the window, Camille flopping herself on the chair opposite, ensuring no one else would be able to sit next to her. The two watched as Mrs Weasley said goodbye to her children, the twins still whispering and glancing occasionally at Harry.

The door to the compartment slid open and the young red headed boy from earlier stepped in.

"Is anyone sitting there?" He pointed at the seat next to Harry, "Everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head and looked over to Camille, who had now tucked herself into the corner with a book, the title reading 'The Picture of Dorian Gray'. It wasn't that Camille was anti-social or an introvert, she just felt that the two boys would connect more without her input, and who was she to get in the way of a budding friendship. All she was interested in was her book and the food trolley, the latter of which she hoped would be there soon, as she had skipped breakfast and was dying for some chocolate.

Ridding herself of her cardigan, she tucked her legs underneath her and continued reading, ignoring the twins who had once again popped up.

"Hey Harry, Camille," They spoke simultaneously, ignoring their brother who simply shook his head at the pair.

"We didn't introduce ourselves earlier. Fred and George Weasley. Budding bachelors," They gave a joking wink at Camille, who simply flipped them the bird as they laughed, "And this is Ron, our brother." They gestured to Ron, who also looked fed up with their antics. "Well, we'll see you happy people later, then." And with that they left, a pretty meaningless visit Camille thought, but who was she to question the actions of people she didn't know, especially when she herself could be strange at times.

"So, is it true what they said then?" The ginger boy spoke, and it was only then Camille noticed the grey rat that sat in his lap, its beady eyes seemingly glaring straight through the French girl, like the eyes of a predator would its prey. Reaching above her she draped her cardigan back over her shoulders, which at the moment were only covered by the thin straps of her dress, as she hadn't changed into her school robes just yet.

"Are you Harry Potter?"

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #series #hogwarts #veela #fluff #the philosophers stone #fleur delacour

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windywooshes · 4 years

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Mike x Reader

It was a busy day. The night was fuming with the chatter and buzzing of the guests of the manor. All hurrying and preparing themselves. Acting, repeating, summarising...

As an annual tradition of the Oletus Manor, hunters and survivors joined sides to prepare a play for one another. Maybe it was a rabbit hole to Neverland, escaping the devouring gloominess of the house they inhabited for so long now. A way to cope and bond with one another. A solution to forget the fear and stress from matches and to just concentrate on things which are more pleasing and fun.

It all started with the first celebration from the veterans of the manor and evolved into a yearly event. Thanks to the growing amount of inhabitants, more roles could be given out this time as well. Those who weren't picked, had the joy of helping which seasoned the theatre piece with live and spirit in the first place.

Here you come in, as you were an important part of the beehive. Alongside Violetta, who was a very skilled hobbyist tailor, you produced the costumes and accessoires for the actors, cooperating with Miss Nightingale to design the most fitting and charming pieces you laid your eyes upon.

As you were more experienced with tiny knacks and decorations for the grande piece, you were in charge of the details and small additions to each piece of design, which brings us to the current nerve wrecking problem which snacked on your patience and energy like a patroller.

As it was laid out on the drafts, one of the costumes belonged to a certain someone. And this certain someone had a certain something on a very certain spot which you had the honor to do.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried your best to focus on the swing of the brush to make the desired artwork look as stunning as possible to fit the equally beautiful outfit (and man) in front of you. Yet whenever you tried to set your ink-coated tool down you heard a chuckle of the blonde and once you realised, the color was all smeared over the leg once again, squeezing out a sigh in frustration from your throat. Quickly grabbing the now golden tainted napkin for another time, you started to wipe off the glittering paint from Mike's leg.

It made you happy to see that the manor owner finally saw the potential in the young Acrobat, gifting him more skins and Emotes with each new season. Yet this one especially threw you into the cold water.

Mike patiently sat on the chair while you tried your best not to die from the weird situation you were thrown at. Brush in your dominant hand, shaking, you attempted once again to draw an elegant pattern of a rose on to the outside of his left tight which goes all the way down to his knee. One would tell you off for being too flustered by the nugget legs of the Acrobat as he usually wears skin tight outfits which showed just as much shape and form as his current choice. Yet you never got to see so much leg from this man. It was as if his bare skin was a forbidden apple, not allowed to be seen by the mere peasants of this world and you being one of them, committing a crime of disrespect against the gods.

It was a weird reaction as other survivors and equally hunters, showed off even more than this, yet you were fazed more by a leg than a victorian aristocrat from a bare knuckle could ever be. To underline the obvious, it could have a link to your slight adoration for the blonde. When your eyes landed on the energetic lad, your mind couldn't stop taking every bit of his presence in. Matches were the worst as you'd end up as a flustered mess, shaking and nervous, letting calibrations slip or reducing your kiting time drastically to barely 15 seconds incase you knew that he was watching you from a cipher. So many matches were lost, so many Blackjack games thrown into the dust. All because of one little distraction which was Mike Morton himself.

While you were suffering, Mike was clearly enjoying himself too much. As your head never dared to look up towards him, you couldn't spot the cheeky grin which grew on his lips since you were given your task. Too focused on it. Yet here he was, enjoying every little bit of this fiasco. Playing with your hair, wiggling his legs while you set down for a stroke, standing up to get a drink...it didn't matter, as long as he could cause a bit of a trouble and have you there with him on the spot, he would sparkle like a little firecracker. Chuckling whenever he saw your adorable pouting face next to him while you tried not to make your head explode from all the frustration. His cheeky attitude found a stop when you put the brush down and rushed off to the side to finally get something to drink and snack on.

„Don't overdo it, Morton.“

A hand on his shoulder, broke him out of his trance watching how you were talking to Vera at the tables. Turning around he found old Burke himself, nudging his head before leaving him again. But not with Mike. Quickly jumping from his seat, he followed the inventor, throwing two of his juggle balls in one hand just to keep himself a bit busy.

„I think, I didn't quiet catch that, sir ?“ he said, smiling up at the frowning elder as he came to a stop.

„You shouldn't stress the poor kid out for too longer. Otherwise they'll end up like Guard 10. Not a pretty sight.“ he sighed and rubbed his chin, looking off to the side at the target themselves.

„They are very fond of you, so don't play around with that.“

And like an old wise man, he disappeared all of a sudden- to the food table.

Spotting how you finished your small break and waving a goodbye to the others who joined you, the blonde rushed back to his seat. But with a thought bugging his mind like a mosquito in summer.

„Well then...shall we try again ? This time no knee-head-bumps though.“, you chuckled as you bend your wrists a bit to get them warmed up again before taking up the seemingly impossible task once again. But when you looked up with a small smile grazing your lips, you found Mike looking a bit more uncomfortable than he was before.

„Are you okay ?“

He shook his head and put his hands up, his little sunny side up smile back on the spot where it belonged.

„All good~ don't worry about it, (Y/N).“

Yet once your head ducked down, Mike's ears tinted pinkish due to the high blood flow and heart rate. What if Burke was right ? How would he know about your feelings for him though ? He wasn't even sure about them himself. His head started to fume and before he knew it, he felt a bonk and a head on his lap. A groan of frustration emitting from the bush of hair.

It seemed that Morton started to wiggle his left leg without noticing while lost in thoughts. Much to the dismay of the poor part-time artist who just tried their best to get the job done. Regaining your mind, you noticed that the male stopped his shenanigans and your rather awkward position. Firstly you didn't want to look, yet you were rather nosy to know what Mike's face looks like. If it would hold any reaction in it besides his smily facade. And you were not disappointed. Now not only his ears but nearly his entire face became a reddish hue, especially after he felt your tight grip on his leg which you just tried to put in place for half a minute before.

Seeing THE Mike Morton blush like this, trying to hide his face behind his knuckles, it was satisfying. Not in a mean way but rather in a ‚hah, that's for all that teasing from before‘ way. But you didn't want to blow your facade for now. Clearing your throat you apologised for the small outburst, receiving a choked up ‚hm‘ as a response. Usually you'd end up a flustered mess but oh how the turns have tabled. It was difficult to hold in the laughter. The acrobat tried his best to avoid any eye contact for now but you didn't mind as you still had a small comeback in mind which you want to squeeze into his arms before leaving for your other duties. Now that the man stood still, you also finally managed to finish the golden rose on his leg.

But before he could even take some time to thank you after he cooled himself off, he felt a soft sensation on his tight. Pulling your lips away from his exposed skin you couldn't hold back the grin which krept up your cheeks like predators to their prey.

With one last poke on the nose, you left the man on the chair. A carousel of emotions twirling around his heart as he stumbled through the lobby, on his way to rehearsal.

#identity v x reader #idv x reader #mike morton x reader #identity v #x reader #reader insert #idv #idv mike #mike morton #forgot the tags I usually use #this has been in my drafts for a while #wanted to write sth for the new costumes bcs they pwetty 🥺#wondering if I should do baseball snorty too just for fun #wanted to write for some other characters as well but head empty 😔#got an idea for lucky tho #aaaah this might not be the best one btw but #I still feel kinda 👌#it could be worse krkcks

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

Text

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

You parked on the side of an empty back road, careful not to stop in any spot that might be muddy. It hadn’t rained for a few days, but with the weather lately, you couldn’t be too careful. The last thing you needed was to have to call Erik and confess to him that you did indeed go out to the woods to take pictures and were now stuck in the mud and needed his help.

A small part of you felt guilty. His concern wasn’t completely unfounded. If he’d had gotten hurt working on a backdrop by himself, whether by falling off a ladder or being hit by a light, you would be hesitant about him doing it again. But each of you were your own person, right? Independent not codependent?

Okay, it was probably time to lay of the self-help books for a while. You took one modern philosophy class and it had been a downward spiral from there. Perhaps it was time to give the supernatural genre a try.

The trees smelled intoxicating. Mixed with the humidity in the air, it was the kind of scent that could outperform even the most expensive of perfumes. It was an aroma that surrounded you, engulfed you in its arms the further into the woods you went. The peaceful smile that pulled on the corners of your lips were automatic, involuntary. Not that you would fight if you could. Despite the rumors of wolves running around, you were comfortable here.

Deep within the forest, a wide, oval clearing full of browned wildflowers rested. Bits of green here and there tried to break through the foliage that had died during the harsh winter. Their odds of making it through might not have been great, but you admired their tenacity.

These clearings were common in the woods and yet, they were your favorite places to capture. From one angle, it could seem like you were lost in a fast labyrinth of Mother Nature. Another, a prairie that belonged to another region entirely. The possibilities were endless if you really thought about it. And each clearing, you’d discovered, was unique within itself. Its shape, the plants it held, the thickness of the grass. You knew you hadn’t found every one yet, but you were determined to someday. For now, though, you would have stick with this particular clearing that you had visited before, as it was close to the road for a quick getaway, should you need it.

Sliding the bags off your shoulder, you crouched down and dug through until you found your notebook. The pages were unlined, which allowed you to right down your thoughts and ideas at odd angles. To you, it gave the otherwise somewhat boring inside a more artistic aesthetic. The plain leather cover was soft in your hands, worn from the amount of use and abuse you’d put it through. It wasn’t exactly common for photographers to write out their ideas before shooting. Some drew out the scene they wanted to capture, trying out different angles in their imagination. Most didn’t do any sort of prep like this at all. But you preferred to write it out, especially since most of your ideas tended to come at the most inconvenient times. Scribbling down half-coherent words tended to be quicker than a sketch.

After a quick review of your latest ideas, you tossed the notebook down and turned on your camera. You took several test shots, adjusting each settling until you came to the look you were searching for. Long shots and close ups, you photographed nearly every square foot of that clearing in order to get that one picture. That one picture that took everyone’s breath away, that made them stop and tilt their head every which way in order to take the scene in at all possible viewpoints. You wanted to them to see the world the way you did.

So in tuned to what you were doing, you hadn’t noticed the pair of eyes watching you from the shadows. They gave off the faintest glow filled with curiosity as they hovered in the air. You snapped a few photos in their direction, still unaware of their presence, and then lowered the camera to look back on the shots. At first, when you clicked through the pictures, you didn’t notice the tiny amber dots that blended in with the foliage. But by the fourth picture, you stopped.

Never before had you been scared by this place. Then again, the only animals you’d ever encountered before were rabbits and deer and other mostly harmless critters. These did not look like the eyes of a friendly Disney sidekick. Ice ran down your spine. You couldn’t run. If it was a predator, that would only encourage it. So, you tried to remain as still as possible while lifting your eyes to the spot that the animal was hiding. Perhaps there was a chance that it wouldn’t sense your fear and would take your stare down as a reason to walk away.

No such luck.

The leaves under its paws rustled as it stepped forward into the sun.

A tannish wolf with a long black strip down its back revealed itself. But it didn’t look menacing. In fact, though you might have been fooling yourself, it seemed almost… curious? Confused? It was hard to read the expression since you couldn’t fully compare it to a human. With slow, thoughtful steps, it came closer. You tried to remain still, tried not to move. The strain was causing your legs to tremble slightly. Now, you felt tremendously stupid for not listening to Willa’s warning about wolves. Was this considered an ironic moment? You weren’t entirely sure since language arts had never been your strong suit.

Unable to keep you upright anymore, your legs gave out. At least you landed on your butt with your camera hanging safely around your neck. Your fingernails dug into the dirt next to you as the wolf came closer, still at that same cautious pace. Harder and harder, your heart pounded in your ears. The wolf paused for a few seconds before continuing on. Could it hear your terrified pulse? Silently, you said your goodbyes as the wolf erased all space between you. Its muzzle nudged your cheek, coming to a stop near your ear. It sniffed deeply, then jumped back.

Your eyes widened, somewhat relieved that it hadn’t pounced, but also confused. Why wasn’t it attacking? Why did it look spooked?

The wolf sat back, head tilting back and forth as it studied you. It made no threatening moves or sounds. The tips of its ears perked up and it let out a sound that was eerily similar to a scoff.

“I guess you’re not hungry then?” An odd thing to say out loud to an animal that couldn’t talk, but you blamed it on the shock of the whole situation.

The wolf responded with a short puff of air before lowering itself down to its stomach.

This was… surreal. All the other animals you’d ever encountered had either kept their distance or ran away at the slightest sound. And yet, here was this wolf, laying in front of you, not vicious or aggressive. It was almost… cute, in a way.

“You’re a strange creature,” you said out loud. The wolf apparently took that as a sign to come closer. Crawling on its stomach, it took came to the point where it was almost able to rest its head in your lap-

The shrill sound of your current favorite song ripped through the air. You gasped, jumping up to your feet and running to your bag where you desperately searched through the pockets until you found your phone. It was Willa.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?”

“I, um,” you glanced at the wolf who had jumped up to its feet. “I got bored so I’m just out driving around. Why?”

“Jiyoung called and asked last second to switch shifts at the coffee shop and so I’m free for the evening. And I’m hungry.”

You laughed a little at her not-so-subtle hint. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to get back to the dorm. How does brick oven pizza sound?”

“Like heaven.”

“Okay, then. See you soon.” You ended the call and looked up, meeting eyes with the wolf. It never broke contact and in turn, gave you a bit more bravery. Lifting up the camera, you snapped a single shot of the wolf. “I’ll be back.” A strange promise to make, but you said it anyway. You wanted another encounter with this mysterious creature. Gathering up your things, you hurried out of the clearing and back through the trees to your car, still sitting on the side of the road.

It took less than twenty minutes to make it back to the university. Back at the dorm, Willa was lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone mindlessly. She sat up as soon as you came through the door.

“Fun drive?” she asked.

You shrugged. “It was fine.”

“No exciting scenes to snap?”

Her tease made you roll your eyes. “No, not really. Now, come on. I thought you said you wanted to eat?”

Not missing a beat, Willa jumped up from the bed, snatched up her purse, and pulled you out of the room, contemplating out loud which signature pizza sounded good.

Minseok growled as he ran through the forest. How he could have possibly lost those three was beyond him. Being unable to find them now was even more stupefying. They were loud, how could he not know which direction to take? He had to be careful. This part of the forest was close to the back roads and Junmyeon was worried they were being spotted too often. If the three them weren’t paying attention-

Click. Click. Click.

Minseok brought himself to a halt at the strange sound. There wasn’t any sort of pattern to it, but there was an underlying shuttering that seemed vaguely familiar. Too curious to just ignore it, Minseok headed in the direction e suspected it came from. Once he found the answer, he’d go back to finding the others.

The sound led him to one of the many clearings in the woods. A person wandering around the area taking pictures seemed to be the source, a camera in their hands. You appeared to be alone. Odd since not many ventured out in the forest by themselves. The isolation didn’t seem to bother you, though as you carelessly went about your task.

Staying in the shadows, Minseok watched your back as you continued to photograph the nature around you. Something… something strange was tingling in his shoulders, like the muscle beneath the skin had fallen asleep. Without prompt from him, his paw moved forward. He should be leaving. Be gone before you spotted him. But he couldn’t do it. Something told him to wait.

That’s when you turned around. By the way you kept taking pictures, you hadn’t seen him. It wasn’t until you lowered the camera to review the film did you freeze. And you weren’t the only one.

Something in Minseok’s world snapped when he saw your face. His muscles contracted, shivered and ached.

Go! an inner voice urged. He tried to turn his body in the opposite direction of you, but failed. Not that way! He had no choice but to obey. So he stepped closer to you. Your eyes snapped up, meeting his own. In his chest, his heart accelerated. What was this? What was going on?

Slightly fighting each movement, Minseok broke out from the tree line and into the clearing. It was obvious you were frightened. And he was breaking all the rules by revealing himself. Logic could not win, however. He kept walking. Even after you fell backwards, he was only able to pause for a brief second. Your rapidly beating heart was loud in his own sensitive ears. But he wasn’t so sure that it was completely out of fear. He needed to be closer. So closer he went. The whiskers of his muzzle brushed against your cheek, sending a lightning bolt through his body. He took in your scent and reeled back.

You smelled human. You were human. But… there’s something different about you and he couldn’t fathom what it might be.

“I guess you’re not hungry then?” you said oddly.

Minseok laughed. Well, as much as he could with this ribcage and these vocal cords. Overwhelmed, he adjusted to a more comfortable position. The feeling in his chest was almost all consuming and it weighed him down. He’d seen plenty of humans on his runs, but this had never happened before. Was this something that would only happen because he was in his wolf form? Or would he still feel like this if he saw you on two legs?

With a glimmer in your eye, you sighed, “You’re a strange creature.”

Taking that as sign, he tested the waters and pulled himself across the grass with his front paws, closing the gap between you.

A song suddenly cut through the air and forced him to a stop before he could rest his head in your lap - an action that he was itching to try out. You jumped up with a gasp and ran to the bags resting at the bottom of a tree. Frantically, you searched the pockets until you found the source of the noise, answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?” asked a female voice on the other end.

“I, um,” you glanced over him, making him jump to his feet. Will you tell your friend the truth? “I got bored so I’m just out driving around. Why?”

He almost let out a sigh from relief. Talk of an overly friendly wolf would be bad, especially if it spread through town and more people ventured into the woods to try and encounter him.

“Jiyoung called and asked last second to switch shifts at the coffee shop and so I’m free for the evening. And I’m hungry.”

You laughed. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to get back to the dorm. How does brick oven pizza sound?”

“Like heaven.”

“Okay, then. See you soon.” You hung up the call and met his eyes again. Impulsively, you took one last picture of him, which he didn’t shy away from. “I’ll be back,” you promised softly.

Minseok could no longer feel the ground beneath him. He just stood there, watching as you ran through the trees in the direction of the road. When his senses came back to him, he noticed a small brown square hidden among the tan grass. He went closer to inspect what the object was. It was a notebook.

It must be yours.

Scooping the leather-bound book in his mouth, he took off after you. Following your scent through the forest was easy – it stood out like a pink flower in a sea of green grass. But he wasn’t quick enough. He caught the sight of your tail lights far down the road. He would have to keep a hold of the notebook until he saw you again. You did say that you would be back.

Or you could track her down?

Minseok shook that thought away. How would he ever explain that without giving away his true nature?

Giving up for the time being, he turned around and decided to head back to the house. There was no way he could find the others now. And with you gone, the elated feeling disappeared, leaving him weighted as if he were being dragged down into the earth. Each step was anchored down. It took him much longer to get back to the farm house.

Several other members were scattered about the house, either working on their studies or clowning around. Your notebook tucked between his clothes and held close to his chest, he headed up to his room. After a quick shower, he got dressed once again and sat on the end of his bed. In his hands, he flipped the notebook over and over. He contemplated opening it. But that would be invading, wouldn’t it? But he wanted to find out about you.

So he pulled open the cover.

Inside, in the top right hand corner of the first page was your name. He smiled, saying it softly over and over. It felt… right on his lips. Your face hovered in his mind. It fit you so well, like a jacket tailored with perfection.

The nature of wolves was an odd kind. There was a constant urge to belong. To belong to a pack and then… to belong to a person.

Ever since he was young, he was told about how someday he find that special person whose soul was connected to his. Fate predetermined who that person would be and no one could ever fill the void that existed until that person came along. Ordinary humans would never experience that kind of feeling, that kind of love. The type of love for the wolf that could only be given by one person.

A mate.

Was that what you were? None of his brothers were mated. They were all free – some taking more advantage of the situation than others. Occasionally, they would joke about who would be first. Some thought it might be Yixing, given his soft heart and the genuine warmth he radiated. Others liked to joke that it would be Baekhyun or Jongin, the big serial daters of the pack. Minseok, though, had his money set on Jongdae. That wolf had barely been able to give in to the call of the pack when he first joined them all. He was verbally against the idea of mating, more so than anyone else. Opening up to people was not a strong suit of the younger wolf and Minseok couldn’t wait to see what kind of journey that would be once he was forced to.

Minseok would have been the last person on everyone’s mind for the mated list. Not for any malicious reasons, just because he didn’t venture out very much beyond school so the odds of meeting someone new were low. Or so he thought. He liked being out at the house, being home. He was the very definition of “homebody”. Ironic that he ended up meeting you out here.

Knock, knock, knock.

He looked up and quickly hid the notebook beneath his pillows, just in time before Junmyeon, the alpha, peaked his head in. “Minseok?”

“Yeah?”

Junmyeon looked back towards the hallway. “Yeah, he’s in here!” he yelled. “Tell Jongdae to stop worrying!”

Minseok laughed. Naturally, they leave him behind but then they get worried. He was the eldest, always looking after the others. And yet, oftentimes, it didn’t feel like that.

Where he thought that might be the end of the checkup, Junmyeon, instead, closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed beside him.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Minseok nodded. “Yeah, of course. Why?”

“I saw the look on your face when you came in,” Junmyeon explained. “You looked troubled.”

The two of them weren’t the closet out of the whole pack. In fact, there were times where it was awkward between them, the role of the alpha and the role of eldest clashing at times. But other times, he was the best one to turn to.

“What do you know about the mating aspect of us?”

Junmyeon pursed his lips, thinking. “The mating aspect? Only the basics, really. That when you meet that one person, that’s it. And you’re supposed to live happily ever after.” He laughed at the cheesy line, releasing some of the tension.

Minseok couldn’t help but laugh along. It died out soon, though, as his mind went back to his current dilemma. “They always say you just know after one look. Do you think that’s right?”

“Yes, I do,” the alpha confirmed. “That’s all it takes. You feel it in here.” He tapped his chest, right about his heart. “Minseok? Why are you asking about this?”

He weighed his options. If this wasn’t what he thought it was and the others found out, he would never hear the end of it from them. But having someone validate his theory would ease some of the strain.

“I think I found her.”

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #minseok x reader #kim minseok #xiumin #exo werewolf!au #exo werewolf au #exo series #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo supernatural au #untamed wolf universe #Catching Rain

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fe-husband-heaven · 4 years

Note

How about a Grima drabble? Maybe just a Grima who's bad at relationship stuff??

mY DRAGON BOY I LOVE HE NDJSNDJJ

kddjsj he's strugglin a little in this one but i hope its cute fjdnnd

((mod has been trying to post this for half an hour...she had to get the cjshshhd read more on ahhh))

______________________

Yawning, you leaned back in your chair, letting the chair careen off the ground. Another night of unit formations and team assignments for you...sometimes you wondered why you were in charge of this when half the army was tacticians.

Couldn't you just shoot Breidablik a few times and be done for the day?

You laughed at the thought and the loyal hero who insisted on tending to your room paused her cleaning.

"May I inquire what it is you find amusing, Summoner?"

Turning your neck, you glanced at Flora who stood poised with a duster in hand. You had often told her that there was no need to clean your room, she did enough as it was but this was not something you could deter her on.

"Hmm...nothing too interesting Flora." changing the topic, you shot her a smile, "Why don't you take a break? You've been working hard lately!"

She bowed,

"Respectfully, I must decline. I am aware this is an effort to get me not to clean your room."

She saw right through you. Maybe one day you'd get her to take a break, but it didn't seem to be coming any time soon. Flora only seemed to be more determined the more you tried.

She very much appreciated your good will, and it only made her want to help more. She doted on you more often than not.

"I'll get you one day, Flora!" You sing-song as you return to your work.

She smiled softly and turned her attention to a shelf to her right. She couldn't help but note the peculiar object she saw there.

"Summoner."

You looked back at her,

"Yeah?"

"Is it inappropriate to inquire why there is a potted garden weed in your room?"

"No."

"Then..why is there a potted garden weed in your room?"

When you didn't immediately answer, Flora turned her attention back to you. She was surprised to see you look so content. She watched as you sighed dreamily and laughed lightly.

You couldn't help it. The reason why you had a weed that was so well taken care of was absolutely adorable. Just thinking about it made you melt….

_____________________

You sighed in frustration. A headache was quickly building as you continued tallying the necessary supplies you had to request Anna to acquire. You wouldn't have to if some of the more nefarious mages in the army hadn't gone and blown up an entire supply shed.

The pounding at your door that soon followed your sigh wasn't aiding in relieving your mood.

"..Come in…" you said, devoid of all enthusiasm as you stood from your chair.

The door flung open with such force that the hood of your robe flew back, you stood a bit in shock as Grima stomped into the room.

Stomping up to you, he pushed something into your face.

"Here."

You stepped back a bit to take a look. Confused when you found that he had been holding a weed, roots and all.

"What's this for?" you asked, tilting your head at it.

"Just take it." Grima growled.

You noted how strangely flustered Grima looked. Grabbing the plant before he blew a gasket, you twirled it with your fingers. You admired the little yellow flower that was growing from the center of the clump of torn looking leaves.

Confused, you didn't say anything.

"You don't like it."

His comment made you look back up, he looked upset. Well...more so annoyed. Little tinges of red graced his ears, cheeks, and neck. He was almost cute.

You frowned, trying to think of what this behavior meant in Grima terms. Letting out a small audible gasp, you remembered the walk through the castle main hall you had taken that day.

He had come with and when you had stopped to talk to a different hero, he had reluctantly stayed put while you discussed a tactics meeting that would be happening later that day.

When you had finally finished your conversation, you came back to Grima watching a couple curiously. It appeared to be some sort of gift giving as one of the two was holding flowers as they bowed in thanks accompanied by flushed cheeks, the other, also blushing but looking more relieved than anything else.

You had grabbed Grima's hand and squeezed, wondering if he had been feeling lonely. Smiling at him, you lead him off on a walk, noticing how he kept his eyes trained on your entwined hands.

At the time, you didn't think much of it but now that he was handing you a plant...you wondered if...was he mimicking what he had seen..?...oh gods, he must have picked a weed thinking it was a flower people gifted-

The idea was absolutely adorable..!

You laughed softly, finding it endearing and amusing at the same time.

You heard Grima give a "Tch." before he turned around, about to leave.

"Ah-Wait!"

He stopped but didn't turn around, he seemed to be brooding and you couldn't help but smile. Maybe most people didn't find Grima to be absolutely adorable..but you weren't most people.

Hugging him from behind, you were careful not to crush the weed he had gifted you.

"Thank you, Grima. I love it.♥︎"

He stayed still. Rigid. Like he was still ready to walk out. Slowly, he turned around in your arms and studied you. He scanned your face, like he was looking for the slightest sign that you might be lying.

"..Are you being truthful, worm..?"

You nodded rapidly and pulled him into a kiss, knowing Grima's worries tended to disappear when he got this kind of reassurance. On cue, his shoulders untensed and he melted into the kiss. When you pulled away, he had leaned in a little, not quite satisfied.

"Yes! It's very pretty, thank you for getting it for me."

You watched as his pride seemed to increase tenfold, he looked almost smug. Like he'd suddenly outwitted the entire world. To anyone else, it might seem a little malicious, scary, and on the border of predator-like but to you, why he was akin to a praised puppy! A praised Fell Dragon! Not much of a difference, one of them had the power to destroy worlds, the other one was Grima.

With a quick peck to his lips, you took his arm in yours, and began leading him out of the room.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked.

You hummed delightedly,

"To find a cute pot for my gift!"

It was not more than two hours later that he barged into your room again but this time beyond angry.

"You." He snarled, eyes positively glowing.

"Where is it." He grounded out, you saw little wisps of purple surrounding him. Though you knew he would never hurt you, it still worried you, what could have angered him this much..?

"Where is what? Are you okay? Grima..?"

He ignored you and searched the room with his eyes, locking onto the potted weed sitting by the window sill.

He stormed over to it and snatched it off its perch, he raised it above his head, seemingly about to smash it into the ground.

"Hey! Don't!" Absolutely refusing to have your cute flower destroyed, you jumped up to try and grab it from him but he was too fast and he pulled it away.

This only seemed to make you the target of his anger as he whirled on you,

"Did you plan on watching me play the fool? Lying and laughing behind my back?"

You didn't know why he was angry but he was seriously upset and you didn't like it. At least he hadn't destroyed anything…yet.

"Okay, let's calm down. I don't know what's wrong but I'm listening." You spoke, softly, hoping it would calm him a little.

His anger seemed to settle just a little bit but he was very much still infuriated,

"That farm boy with the metal hat, he told me everything."

You frowned,

"Donny?? What did he say?"

Grima snarled, shaking the pot he held, soil spilled off the edges.

"This. This trash is an accursed weed. And you, worm, have lied to me." He sounded especially upset about the last part.

You blinked at him, frowning. Before pinching the bridge of your nose. Oh gods…he must have seen Donny pulling out weeds in the courtyard and questioned him...And as a result of hearing that weeds were undesired, he surmised that you lied to him when you said you loved it.

You sighed softly.

Grima had a long history with distrust in humans, and there were times where it even reared its head towards you. You knew he was afraid of being betrayed.

However small it was to you, it was enough to seriously upset him. You didn't doubt his feelings towards you one bit, he'd told you time and time again about how you belonged to him blah blah blah you're my human and so on. Not only that, you were almost positive that he felt lost in this relationship, unaware of how he was supposed to express that he loved you.

Human customs probably baffled him to hell and back.

At the very least, he cared about you enough not to immediately incinerate you, so that's a start.

"Oh...Grima.."

Your tone caught him off guard, it was soft and light. He warily watched as you stepped forward slowly, you might have laughed at the way he held the plant away from you but you didn't want him to mistake it for a mocking laugh.

"Yes, it is a common garden weed."

Grima opened his mouth to speak, probably to make some sort of "So you admit it" comment but you cut him off.

"But it's my common garden weed."

You emphasized the "my", using a word that Grima often used when he referred to you. My human, my worm, mine.

Grima frowned. You stepped close enough to be able to grab the pot from him but instead, you held your hands out, waiting for him to be the one to offer it.

He scanned your face, looking for trickery. When he found nothing other than a gentle smile, he held it in front of him. Not offering but not pulling it away either. Slowly, you held it and he released it, albeit confused. You stepped back a little to give him space.

You stared at your gift, it was a little tousled but it seemed to be okay otherwise. You smiled down at it, Grima watched mildly fascinated, anger simmering away.

"Yeah..maybe most people don't like getting weeds..but most people don't get them from you."

You looked up at him, making sure he was listening closely.

"When you get something from someone important to you, you treasure it...you know what I mean..don't you?"

Your words had a double meaning. You knew he understood. He was the same. You hadn't expected it but one day Flora had been out sick and Felicia had come in her place. As she fumbled about making more of a mess than cleaning, she mentioned something to you.

"I didn't know Mr.Grima collects things! I guess everyone must have a hobby!"

Interested, what exactly she was talking about, you asked her how she knew and what he collected. When she told you that he kept his collection in a little box under his bed and what items it was he kept, you had immediately recognized that it was all things that you had gifted Grima.

From tomes to shells and small charms, it seems he kept and cherished all of them, so much so that he had acquired a box to keep them all in.

Of course, you never brought it up to him, you doubted that he wanted you to know. But right now, you needed to be on the same page as him.

It seemed to work as he perked up at your words.

"I wasn't lying, you know. If anyone else gave me a weed, I wouldn't have been happy. But because it's from you, it's precious."

Grima's shoulders sagged, like he was suddenly very tired. He wasn't used to a human body's suception to emotion. Right then, he just wanted the attention of his human.

Stepping forward, Grima said nothing, choosing instead to quietly lean down and bury his face into the crook of your neck.

Grima does not say "sorry". But if he ever did, this would probably be his way of doing it.

You leaned a little bit so you could place the plant on a nearby surface. Then immediately leaned back and wrapped an arm around Grima's waist as the other played with his surprisingly soft white hair.

"I bought a cute little watering can for it too, y'know. It's white and it has a little heart on it."

He inhaled your scent and nuzzled into your neck.

"I'm gonna take real good care of it...Gonna be the best damn weed the world has to offer."

At that, Grima rose up to meld your lips together. Moving your mouth against his contently, only the sounds of sweet loving kisses were left to fill the silence.

_______________________

"..Summoner..?"

"Hmm..?"

Flora stared at you worriedly.

"..Oh..!..Yes! A gift! It was a gift, be careful around it!" You said, going back to your work, humming happily. Grima had run off earlier after he'd pushed you down on the bed (( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)) and took a nap with you tucked tightly in his arms.

Right now, he was probably ripping out half the garden to gift to you but that was Donnel's problem to deal with. Now you had to think of something to give Grima in return, something he can fit into his box and keep for a long time…

Or maybe something he can wear out and about?

Hmmm..matching rings that only belonged to the two of you sounded right up his alley…

Smiling and kicking your legs like a child under your desk as you pondered, you ignored the stare Flora gave you.

"Summoner...you can be quite strange."

You laughed,

"Maybe a little...but doesn't that make things interesting?"

#Grima #fire emblem heroes #feh #fe heroes #nyaha i fixed the readmore #MY BOY HE BAD AT LOVE #but he doin his best uwu

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mysteira6 · 4 years

Text

IkeRev Loki Genetta - Like a Cat

Hi I’m obsessed with Loki Genetta and @maedayo’s art of him has inspired me to write these little scenarios with Cradle’s local Nyandere Cheshire Cat. Enjoy~!

(This will be in your POV, btw! I also tried my best to write this in a format similar to the game’s script. You’re welcome. :3)

~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~

No matter how you look at him, Loki still looks like a cat.

I chuckled at the thought as another breeze blew by the meadow, brushing the fuchsia hair of the man beside me and drawing a laugh from me. His mismatched eyes were sparkling with joy as he poked the strawberry shortcake on his plate with his fork and took another bite of it.

“Mm~ Your cakes are always the best, Alice!” He smiled at me warmly. A blush found its way to my cheeks as I watched Loki take another bite of the vanilla-coloured cake, the unmistakable glee clear in his voice. “You should really think about opening a sweets shop in Cradle,”

I scratched my head sheepishly. “That sounds really ambitious, Loki,” I shrugged at the thought of competing against all the current confectionaries in Cradle. “There are already so many talented bakers in the Central Quarter… I highly doubt that my desserts would stand out compared to them,”

“But your sweets are all so good!” Loki replied with a grin. “I bet everyone in Cradle would love them~”

“You’re too kind,” I muttered to myself, hoping that he wouldn’t hear me. Despite my earlier response, my mind began to wander along the thought of actually working in a desserts shop in Cradle. Considering that I used to work in a confectionery in London, it wasn’t a completely foreign experience to me. I could still remember all the recipes that I used time and time again back then, so maybe-

“Loki!!!”

In the midst of my thoughts, Loki had sneakily snatched the slice of cake that was on my plate, and was now happily munching away at it. “Haha, you didn’t even notice a thing, Alice! This cake is mine now!” He laughed wholeheartedly as he placed another strawberry covered slice of cake into his mouth, grinning at his success.

“Hey, that was my slice!” Placing my utensils gently on top of the picnic mat, I glared at Loki, crossing my arms. He didn’t seem to catch onto my anger, however; instead, he leaned close to me and lifted a piece of cake towards my mouth with his fork with an alluring gleam in his eyes

“Do you want me to feed you instead?”

My cheeks instantly heated up at his words, my heart suddenly beating very loudly in my ears. I was frozen by Loki’s gaze, his burnt caramel and topaz gold eyes staring back at me. It felt like a whole minute passed before my boyfriend finally broke the silence.

“Hm? You don’t want it?” He asked with a cheeky grin. I remained silent, unable to utter a single word.

“Well, I guess more cake for me then~” He said with a sly smile before redirecting his fork back into his mouth, moving away from me as he continued savouring his treat, the white icing on top of the cake smearing the side of his mouth a little. I found myself letting out a long sigh that I had been holding ever since Loki asked me that question. This guy…!!

One minute, he was innocently relishing my shortcake, the next minute he managed to steal my slice like a little devil, and now he was acting like a playful flirt. There were just so many sides of Loki that would pop out of nowhere, casting their spells to draw me deeper in love with him…

I found myself smiling warmly while fishing out a napkin from our picnic basket to wipe the extra icing on his cheeks. “Loki, you got a bit of cake on your face,” I giggled.

He quickly grabbed my hand just as I finished cleaning his face, startling me enough to drop my napkin. He closed his eyes as he affectionately nuzzled my palm, purring like a cat at my touch. “Hehe, I love it when you touch my face, Alice~” He murmured.

I sighed, though I was still smiling. “Loki, I need my hand back...”

“Aw~ But your hand is so warm!”

The cheery smile encased on his lips was enough to win me over. How in the world could anyone be so cute?

~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~

I mean, even his carnivorous diet is like a cat. Or was it more like a child’s?

“Bleh… Yuck…”

I turned my attention away from reading to the sound of Loki’s gags. He was sticking his tongue at the green flowered vegetable stuck in his fork, clearly not wanting to eat the broccoli from lunch.

Seated in front of him was Harr, Loki’s guardian and mentor, and to say that he was unamused was an understatement. His one eye that wasn’t concealed behind a mask narrowed at the pouting boy. “Loki, you need to eat your vegetables. I’m not going to tell you twice,”

“But I hate them…” The pink-haired teen groaned with a frown, his heterochromatic eyes drooping at the sight of his plate, mostly clean except for the cursed green pieces. “And why did it have to be broccoli, Harr? You know that I hate those the most!”

“All the more reason why you need to eat them,” The wizard replied with a deadpan look. “Look, they really aren’t that bad, Loki. And you’ve got to eat them for nutrition,”

The younger magic-user refused to listen. “I already eat a lot of fish! And fish has loads of nutrients too. I’m full--Thank you for the meal!”

Loki was about to stand up and lift his plate to the sink before Harr’s eyes glowed red, his powerful magic forcing Loki back on the chair no matter how much he squirmed. “Hey! No fair, Harr! I thought you told me not to use magic for trivial matters!” Loki yelped indignantly.

“Eat your broccoli!”

“No!”

“Loki…!!”

As I sat on the sofa in their living room, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. From this angle, Harr really looks like a father trying to get his son to eat his veggies, though he really wasn’t making any progress on the matter.

At that moment, a cheeky idea popped into my head, cueing the ends of my lips to turn upwards and form a smile. After slowly placing my book on the coffee table, I trotted over to the dining table, where Loki was pouting and Harr was crossing his arms in frustration. “Still not eating your vegetables, Loki?” I asked with a short sigh.

He immediately brightened as soon as I got close to the table. “Alice! Tell Harr to let me go!” He cried for help like a child while Harr shook his head in disappointment.

“I was thinking that he would mature a little after meeting you,” The older wizard mused, pinching his nose bridge. “But it seems that his refusal to eat vegetables hasn’t changed at all,”

I laughed light-heartedly at his words. “It would seem so,” I agreed with a sheepish grin before turning back to the stubborn man who was glued to his chair, ready to enact my plan. If Loki won’t eat his veggies willingly… Maybe I should give him some incentive…

Leaning in close to Loki, I cupped my mouth and whispered to him in the sweetest voice I could muster. “What if I give you some kisses after you eat them, hm?”

The pout on his face instantly disappeared. As Loki slowly turned his head towards me, I could see that his cheeks had turned pink and his eyes were widened at my words, his mouth agape as he stared at me. Despite my heart pounding wildly in my chest, the sweet smile on my face didn’t falter as Loki blinked at me, seemingly shocked at what just happened.

There was a short silence in the room before the Cheshire Cat let out an audible gulp and turned back to his food. The frown on his face from before returned, though it was visibly fainter than earlier.

“ … Fine,” He huffed as he picked up his fork, this time actually picking up the pieces of broccoli and chewing them in his mouth. He didn’t gag or complain, and I grinned at the sight. Success!

On the opposite side of the table, Harr’s cedar-brown eyes widened in astonishment. “My goodness…” He muttered to himself as he slapped his hand onto his forehead.

~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~

Loki can get pretty possessive like a cat, too…

I hummed a little tune to myself as I packed some books into the trusty bag Seth gave me earlier. Sirius was right; Harr really did have a lot of cookbooks lying around his house and he wouldn’t hesitate to lend me them if I asked him about it. Though I could remember most of the dessert recipes that I used back in London, I figured out that it would do me some good if I learned how to make other dishes for meals. And considering how amazing Harr’s cooking was, it was only natural that I’d try to learn from him.

Beside me, Loki leaned against the armrest of the sofa, nodding his head to the song I was humming. “What song is that, Alice?” He asked inquisitively, tilting his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it before… Did it come from the Land of Reason?”

I nodded. “I can’t remember the name of it, though,” I replied with a shrug as I zipped up my bag, lifting the straps around my head to rest on my shoulder. “I just remember listening to it a long time ago back in London,”

“London?”

“Ah, that is, the Land of Reason,” I explained with a smile as Loki’s eyes lit up. For a number of times now, he has asked me about my world, known as the Land of Reason to everyone in Cradle. A polar opposite to this wonderland that I’ve fallen into, the Land of Reason progressed and functioned on scientific logic, machinery and phenomena instead of magic. I wonder how I would ever explain how to use a telephone to anyone here, especially Loki.

Meanwhile, the man that I was just thinking about had his gaze trained on the bag slung across my shoulder. The shades of pink and yellow in his eyes shimmered like stars, and yet I could feel them piercing through me. The lack of response from the usually vocal Cheshire Cat made my heart worry.

“Loki?” I timidly asked, not realizing how soft my voice had become.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he stood up from the sofa and walked towards me like a predator catching his prey. As he advanced to my position, I could spot his eyebrows drooping in disappointment. The tense expression in his eyes reminded me of the day he casted a spell to force me into a deep sleep.

“You’re leaving… now?” He finally murmured in a low voice, upset that I was preparing myself to head back to the black army’s headquarters.

Oh boy, here we go again…

“Is Loki stopping you from heading back home again?” Harr let out a long sigh in a tone mixed with embarrassment and disappointment as he stepped out his room, catching the sight of Loki staring down at me with pleading eyes.

I unfortunately had to nod in reply before turning my attention back to the pink-haired man before me. “Loki, I need to get back. You remember what I told you right? It’s gonna be Luka’s birthday soon and I need to help Ray and the others practice making a cake for him,” I explained in a matter-of-fact tone. I was already used to the many episodes of Loki trying to stop me from heading back to the other black army members, after all.

He turned his head slightly at the mention of Luka, his lips curving into an annoyed frown. “I don’t like that you have to go back to their headquarters all the time,” He complained as he reached for both of my hands, holding them tightly as if I would disappear if he let go. “I wish you could just stay here with me instead,”

I let out a short sigh. As possessive and dramatic as he was now, I had to admit that there was always a small sorrow in my heart each time we parted ways. There was always the promise of seeing him the next day, but there was also the miniscule yet present uncertainty that I couldn’t do so. It was a fear I could not deny no matter how hard I tried.

I looked up at Loki with a warm smile on my lips. “I’m sorry that I can’t stay today, Loki. But I promise I’ll come back tomorrow, and then we can go out on another date in Cradle-”

“But I still don’t like seeing you leave me,” He replied, seemingly unwavered by what I’ve said, the expression on his face barely changing. If anything, his grip on my hands only strengthened.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise-”

“But if you go, that means I won’t get to cuddle next to you tonight…”

His suddenly bold words caught me off-guard and I couldn’t stop the redness from crawling up my face. In fact, my cheeks weren’t red because of what Loki said; they got red because Harr was literally right there watching us!! There was no way to really stop his possessiveness, wasn’t there?

From the corner of my eye, I could see the wizard standing by the dining table with another disappointed expression on his face. “For the love of…” He mumbled, shaking his head. It seemed that as far as he was concerned, this routine of me getting won over by Loki’s charm was never going to end.

~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~

And he’s always demanding attention! If that part of him didn’t resemble a cat, then I don’t know what does!

“Hey, Alice~”

“... Alice, look at me~”

As tempted as I was, I managed to steel myself not to look at Loki, my focus not leaving the work in my hands for even a second. When he sneaked into my room earlier this afternoon, he took the liberty of lying on my bed for a little ‘cat-nap’. Now in the evening hours leading to dinnertime, he was up and clearly desperate for my attention.

… Actually, I take that back. The more I consider it, the more I realised that regardless of where we were, he always would be demanding my attention. It was petty, sure, but I couldn’t deny that I still love him for that.

Today, though, I couldn’t afford to be swayed by his pleas for attention. “Not now, Loki,” I proclaimed firmly. “I need to finish making this present for Edgar’s birthday tomorrow,” My mind floated back to a few days before when Loki had tried to stop me from going back to help Ray and the others make a birthday cake for Luka. Thankfully, Harr came to my rescue, convincing the ever clingy cat Loki to let go of me. Back then, I hopelessly fell victim to his boldness; I couldn’t afford to repeat that same mistake today.

… Huh…? Why… does my ear suddenly… hurt…?

I was so absorbed in my work that I had not noticed Loki’s stealthy advance towards me, him leaning over me as I sat on my work desk. As my attention was better tuned to his presence next to me, I could feel the short silky strands of his hair tickle my ears, accompanied by… something sharp?

It was only when his hands landed on my shoulders did my mind finally register what was going on. He… bit my ear…

… Oh my god..!!!

“L-Loki?!” I involuntarily yelped as my whole body froze. Whatever was working on before now landed on the desk as my hands remained in the air, unmoving as an all-too-familiar warmth travelled up my cheeks, extending to the edge of my ears. I could practically feel the electricity coursing through my veins as his warm breath hit my skin like a piece of red-hot iron.

“Hm?” He whispered with a seductive smirk on his face, clearly ignoring the deep scarlet blush on my face. “What is it, Alice?” He continued in a somewhat innocent tone as he continued to nuzzle the back of my ear affectionately.

No matter how hard I tried, no words would come out of my mouth. All I could do was gasp as Loki’s slender fingers swept some of my hair away so that he could nuzzle my neck. I let out a high-pitched yelp at the warm sensation, my head tilting to the side as if it was second nature and my two hands automatically reaching out and searching for his, and he chuckled at the sight.

“You know, I really have to wonder…” His alluring voice returned as his hands finally met mine, lulling the sudden need that had culminated within me. “Why do you tend to think of other men while I’m here?”

“Do you need me to remind you of who you belong to?”

The heat from my face instantly spread across my entire being at the sound of his deeper voice. I couldn’t halt the quiet moans coming out of my mouth as Loki grazed his teeth against my neck, his tongue following after as he licked my skin. My heart is beating so fast… I barely registered the sensation of my chair being lifted slightly as I was spun around in midair, my whole body now facing my boyfriend.

In my half-lidded vision, I spotted a red and surprisingly seductive gleam in Loki’s eyes. He flashed his signature Cheshire grin as he raised his hand to my chin, keeping me focused on him. “I belong to you, Alice. That means that you belong to me too, right?” His grin widened as he pulled my face towards him, his lips capturing mine in a sweet kiss.

I melted into the sensation immediately, my arms wrapping around his neck as I leaned closer to him, closing my eyes to savour this feeling. Loki’s hands soon cupped my face as he tilted his head to deepen our kiss, his fingers framing my jaw so very gently, as if I was fragile porcelain. A few minutes passed before I felt Loki pull away from me, and I internally whined at the loss of his warmth against my lips. “Loki?” I asked quietly, surprised at how soft my voice was.

He just smiled at me, his heterochromatic eyes telling me that he was content. “I’m glad,” He said randomly as he interlocked his fingers with mine. The gesture, although sweet, confused me, and I blurted out my question before I could even consider its aftereffects. “Glad about what?”

He chuckled at me again as a cheerful smile found its way to his face. “I got your attention now, Alice~”

I blinked at the realization that he was right. Oh no… I fell for his charms again just like last time…

At this rate, I’ll never get any work done…!

~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~

… Then again… I suppose the same can be said for me, to some degree…

Loki found himself smiling widely at the little doll in his hands, her appearance looking so much like his Alice. Her long brown hair, her cute white dress, her pretty blue eyes…

The pink-haired wizard let out a small giggle. He made a mental note to thank Harr later for teaching him how to sew. Though it took him a long time to make this doll look like her without using magic (even when the urge to just flick his fingers at the doll was so tempting), Loki was still very pleased at the final result of his practice.

“Loki!!” A melodious voice rang through the air, cueing the man in question to quickly pocket the doll in his jacket before she noticed it. He couldn’t afford to spoil the surprise… not yet, anyway.

Instead, he waved at the chestnut-haired lady as she sauntered over, a picnic basket in her hands. “Sorry that I’m a little late. Were you waiting for long?” She bowed once, making Loki laugh.

“Not at all, Alice,” He shook his head politely as he reached for her free hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. “By the way, you’re looking very cute, as always~”

A pink blush spread across her cheeks as her face shifted into a flustered expression. Loki’s heart warmed at the sight of Alice looking so embarrassed. Her honest reaction to everything was the cutest thing about her, after all.

So adorable… Loki mused to himself before lowering his voice as he spoke. “Hey, hey Alice. Before we go on our date, I have something to show you,”

She tilted her head at him. “What is it?”

“Close your eyes,” He teased with a smirk, to which Alice logically raised an eyebrow at, but the serious look in his own eyes reassured her otherwise. Deciding to go along with his plan, she obliged. With her eyes closed, her now hypersensitive ears heard the sound of cloth being rubbed against, as if someone was searching through their pockets.

“Okay, you can open them now,” Loki’s voice brought her back to the present as she followed his words, her eyes now catching the sight of a quaint little doll resting in Loki’s hands. He was holding it with both of his hands, his fingers wrapping around the doll’s waist, right where the start of her navy blue skirt was.

Wait a minute… a navy blue skirt?

“This doll…” Alice blinked at the sight. “It looks like me…”

“That’s right!” Loki nodded excitedly. “Isn’t she adorable?” He continued, lifting the doll’s hand to imitate her saying hello.

Alice giggled at the gesture. “How did you make her, Loki? With magic?” She asked as Loki passed her the petite toy, her hands and eyes looking all over the doll and inspecting its quality and detail.

“Nope,” He replied with an unexpected answer, which cued Alice to gaze at him quizzically. “I made her from scratch,”

“From scratch?”

“Yep. She’s made from nothing but thread, cotton and cloth,”

“ … No magic?”

He grinned as if he was crossing his heart. “No magic at all,”

“Wow…!” Alice beamed at him, her eyes sparkling with awe. “That’s really impressive, Loki!”

The smile on her face was more than enough of a payment for his efforts. He could feel his heart soaring at the sight of her happiness. Oh how he’d love to capture that pretty look on her face forever…

… Oh, right.

“There’s a reason why I wanted to show you this doll, Alice,” Loki began, lowering his voice mysteriously. Alice turned to him quickly, curiosity in her gaze. “You see, the last time I came to your room, I noticed something,”

“You tend to keep a lot of dolls of me in your room, Alice,”

Alice’s sapphire eyes widened like a child would have if she was caught eating candy. “I-!!” She uttered a single word as her embarrassing side resurfaced. How… Didn’t she keep those dolls in her closet when Loki came over?

… Or did he find them by himself?

“I don’t know where you found so many dolls of me, though,” Loki mused, a playful tone in his voice as he continued his explanation. “I mean, I don’t mind you keeping dolls of me. In fact, I find it rather precious of you~”

Precious? The fact that she always cuddled a Loki toy to sleep everyday… was precious to him? Alice could not believe her ears. Had she fainted in embarrassment already? Was this just a dream?

Behind her back, she pressed a fingernail into her thumb, the stinging pain from it as real as the basket in her hands. Yep, definitely not a dream.

“It’s kind of unfair though,” The younger man pouted, a frown appearing on his face. “You have the chance to cuddle me to sleep every night, but I don’t…”

Did he just read her mind?

“So…” He said slowly, reaching out to the doll in Alice’s hands as he tenderly took the doll back, holding it in his two hands. The young magic-user then turned to the woman in front of him, a light pink blush across his cheeks and his gold-and-pink eyes shining in adoration and affection.

“You wouldn’t mind if I have a doll of you then, would you, Alice~?”

~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~

Hm... How would you reply to him, Alice? :3

Thank you so much, maedayo, for blessing my day with Loki fan art. I desperately need more Loki content~♥

Also, the song that Alice was humming to in the third scenario was this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGmk_F3F0Lw

I’ve been listening to it the whole time I was writing this. It’s super sweet~ Also, I realise that some of its lyrics really REALLY fit Loki’s route. Like I want to make an animated video of it with Loki, ahhh-

Anyways, thank you for reading!

(P.S. time to start writing another Loki fanfic since maedayo just posted more art of him and Alice ahhhh-)

#ikerev loki genetta #loki genetta #ikemen revolution loki genetta #ikerev #ikemen revolution #fanfiction #established relationship #picnic #cheshire cat #ikemen revolution loki #he's such a cutie #just like a cat #a bit possessive and attention seeking but still a cutie #i love him <3

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the-darklings · 5 years

Text

—𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔, 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒎 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔;

pairing: quentin beck x reader

word count: 1.7k+

summary: “He didn’t really deserve this, but he wanted it anyway.”

an: Mysterio thirst is going strong and I approve of this movement. This piece is part 2 to this.- might make this into a miniseries with a catchy name like “Unravelling” for a title lol. Beware some spoilers for far from home. Enjoy!

gif credit (x)

EDIT: PART 3

“Hey, hey, careful now,” a distant voice spoke, their words distorted and warped.

A groan bubbled at the back of your throat; a weak sound of a wounded animal, and you blinked slowly, trying to clear your vision.

“Quentin?” you breathed, confused, your sight still swimming as you tried to focus in on his face. “What—?”

“Shhh,” he soothed, fingers cradling your neck as he wrapped his other arm around you. Your stomach lurched at the jolt, and you groaned again, noting the way his expression twisted with worry and almost...tenderness. “You were injured while trying to help the civilians. I’m sorry I couldn’t kill it faster. When I saw it hit you—”

His voice cut off, the planes of his handsome face twisting as if pained. His golden chestplate was warm when you leaned your cheek against it, staring up at him in confusion.

“You saved me. Thank y-you,” you slurred, words difficult against your tongue. “You’re...hmm...you're warm,” you added sleepily, your eye fluttering shut.

“No, no,” he murmured quickly, tilting your chin in his direction, the elegant length of his fingers tracing over your skin gently. No matter how soothing the contact was, the motion still made you wince in pain, and you shifted away from the delicate touch. “Stay awake for me, honey. Can you do that?”

“I’m...no…”

Quentin’s arms tightened around you slightly, pulling you close, and the last thing you saw before you closed your eyes was his striking face staring down at you. “It’s alright,” he whispered, silky soft and comforting. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right there when you wake up.”

By the time the darkness took you, the memory of the slight, sly smile curving his mouth was already gone.

. . .

Waking up the second time was slower, and more painful.

Your head was pounding, your body ached and your mouth felt dry when you tried to swallow weakly.

“Here.”

A glass of water appeared in front of your face and you leaned in clumsily, clicking your teeth against the glass in your hurry.

“Careful now,” a familiar voice cautioned, and you blinked a few times to clear your vision. Quentin sat beside you, still clad in his ridiculously extravagant armour as he held out a glass of water in your direction. “Here, let me.”

He leaned closer and you had to hold back your instinctive response to jerk back from someone trying to evade your personal space. He paused for a second upon seeing your reaction, his expression crumbling, and a hint of sadness breaking free.

“You’re safe,” he insisted, tone almost cutting, “The threat has been neutralized. It will never hurt you again. I made sure of it.”

Your fingers hovered over the bandages around your forehead before you looked at Quentin again, still silent. You reached for the water in his hand carefully, your fingers brushing against his for a moment. He didn’t let go of the glass though, his gaze worried as he stared at you.

“Your fingers are shaking too badly,” he said quietly, his words a soft lull that made you want to lean into him. “Let me.”

This time when he moved closer, you kept perfectly still, your wary gaze still focused on him as you took slow, methodical sips of water. It felt awkward to be this vulnerable in front of him but Quentin kept his expression perfectly blank. If anything the blue of his eyes seemed to be intently focused on you, leaving no room for anything else.

“Better?” he questioned when you pulled back, leaning against the small cot you were placed on. “You were out for a while. Fury said—”

“I’m not her,” you cut him off harshly, your words low and throaty. “The other me. From your Earth. The one you knew. I’m not her.”

Quentin’s expression shifted with your words. You couldn’t quite explain it but the closest you could get to describing it was vacant. Like it was either too hard for him to listen to this or he couldn’t focus on your words at all.

“I know that we were...friends,” you explained further, your words still slow, and you felt the word ‘friends’ curl uncomfortably in your mouth. “But I’m not her, okay?”

The silence your words left felt heavy and you held back a sigh, realizing that perhaps you were being too harsh for saying it so bluntly. But the hazy memory of the way he cradled you when you first woke up still lingered, and there was nothing friendly about the way he held you so impossibly close.

Quentin lowered the glass on the table with a loud clatter, making you jump slightly with a wince of pain. His own hands shook and he immediately laced them together, brushing his fingertips against the familiar golden band on his ring finger, seemingly out of habit.

“No. No, you are not her,” he admitted breathlessly, and you felt your heart twist at the despair colouring his hushed words. He chuckled lowly, the sound hollow and forced, as he shook his head lightly, his head slumping downwards. “At all actually. And I...I feel relieved in many ways. You’re your own person. But your face is so familiar and—I just miss them so much. I miss you. And—and it was my fault you all died—”

“Stop, you can’t do this to yourself,” you argued right away, shifting into a sitting position with a small huff of pain. “It will not bring them back, that’s true, but what you’re doing now? Fighting and saving this world even though you’re grieving so much? Even though you don’t owe us anything? That takes a special kind of strength and bravery. You’re a hero, Quentin. I know it may not be much comfort to you now but—”

“No,” he cut in, his voice rough and thick with emotion, as his fingers reached out and wrapped around yours. He glanced up at you, his eyes shining with an almost feverish light. “No, you have no idea how much that means to me. Especially coming from you.”

“I’m a nobody with nothing to my name,” you replied wryly, contemplating moving your hands away but his were...warm. “Hardly the stuff of legend. Or anyone you should care about.”

The now familiar crooked grin curved one side of his mouth in reply, “Then we’re just alike, you and I, and I take comfort in that.”

Trying to keep your sceptic scoff at bay, you shook your head, immediately regretting the decision when you felt another sharp sting of pain slice through you.

“Dunno. Doubt I could pull off that cape, Quentin,” you said through gritted teeth, flashing him a weak smile. “I think I would trip over it and crack my teeth on the pavement the first chance I got.”

There was something secretive, almost curious, about the way he was gazing at you at that moment—like he was working hard to peak into you and unravel you from within. His hands were still—irritatingly, maddeningly—comforting and warm around yours, but then there were his eyes. Maybe it was because they were such a distinct shade of blue but for some reason, they always managed to insert a sliver of ice into your heart whenever he looked at you like that.

“What?”

Quentin looked away with a grin before pulling his hands away from yours, letting his fingers graze against yours. Despite your carefully constructed composure of calm, you almost exhaled in relief when you felt the sudden tension between you fade.

“It’s just…” he trailed off, unsure, eyes downcast. “I like the way you say my name. Makes me feel like you can actually see me. Purposeful. It’s pretty stupid, I know. The other you had that gift too. I suppose it’s one of the few similarities you share.”

“Oh.”

Awkward.

It would be a lie to say that your stomach didn’t flip pleasantly at his words. But Quentin was a man grieving for his lost family and with a potential global catastrophe on his hands. He had bigger worries. As did you.

Besides, you weren’t too sure any interest on his side would come from a healthy emotional state, considering the shock of what he had recently gone through.

And yet—

“It’s a quirky name so I guess I like saying it.”

His eyes sparked with life and he grinned widely. And you ignored the familiar shiver down your spine that whispered how this wasn’t a man smiling at you but a predator baring its teeth at its prey.

“Good.”

. . .

He won’t have to fake it.

Which, in hindsight, was probably one of the best things to come from this sticky situation.

You were no striking beauty, that much was true, but you face held a peculiar pleasantness he could not quite put his finger on. You were shrewd—as if he could deal with an idiot, honestly. Witty too, but only when you wanted to be which reminded him more of himself than he would care to admit. You had better instincts than most as well which was what drove him to be pushier about his plan in the first place.

He had to pull you in, he had to warm his way inside.

And he wanted it too.

He didn’t really deserve this, but he wanted it anyway.

It was surprising. Initially, he expected you to be a side project, a safe-guard, another twist in the story for him to use later.

But now.

No, he won’t have to fake it. And that was brilliant because he couldn’t think of anything more tedious and irritating if he tried—well maybe having to listen to Peter whining about his teenage hormones but sacrifices for the greater cause and all that.

He knew faking it simply left too many open doors for errors in the long run, and there could not be any. He worked too long and hard for everything to crumble now.

Quentin flexed his fingers slowly, gazing at them curiously. He could still feel the phantom warmth of your hand in his.

“You’re a hero, Quentin.”

He smiled, fingers folding into a gentle fist, and sighed in satisfaction for the first time since Tony Stark’s death.

. . .

an: I can’t believe we've all decided to (collectively) love this tricky ass drama queen but he’s just too much fun I guess.¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I mean what a bastard. Had to write that last line through gritted teeth lol

tagging: @val-kay-rie (hope you enjoyed it and thank you for asking to be tagged!)

#quentin beck #quentin beck x reader #mysterio x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fic #spider man #spider man far from home #mysterio #spffh spoilers #ffh spoilers #AT THIS POINT MIGHT AS WELL ADMIT I HAVE IT BAD AND MAKE THIS INTO A MINI SERIES #fic: unravelling series

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cchellacat · 4 years

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You Had Me At Hello

Bucky / Darcy (hinting at Bucky/Nat/Darcy future).

Follow up to No Good at Goodbye

Pre Wintershockish

Bucky stubbed our the cigarette, eyes fixed on the brunette woman leaning over the harbour wall. For a civilian she’d been harder to track down than he’d have expected. He’d been following her for a few days now, careful to ensure she didn’t spot him and to assure himself there was no other surveillance on her.

He’d had most of his memories back for a few months now. His mind now truly his own since the deprogramming had been successful. When they had brought him in he’d fought against them hard. He’d still been unsure of who he was, who he could trust. Since he’d been let out of the hospital he’d slowly begun to piece a life back together for himself. It hadn’t been easy, especially trying to rebuild relationships he’d barely remembered.

Bucky shoves his hands in his pockets. It’s freezing out here. He wonders briefly why she spends so much time standing in the cold wind, seemingly mesmerised by the waves. It can’t be comfortable for her, she’s normal, just a girl who got dragged into the world of superhero’s by accident. She must be frozen. She’s a strange puzzle.

It’s not that he can’t understand her attraction. She’s a pretty little thing, all soft curves and big blue eyes. But the notable dismay Natasha had been left in when she’d realised the girl had gone made him curious. What sort of person could get so far under the Russian assassins skin that even months later had her flinching the tiniest bit whenever anyone mentions her name. Darcy. Darcy Lewis, his mission and a mystery he wanted to solve.

He’d moved in with Natasha a few month before. Both of them trying to figure out where they stood with the other, if they could still be them even after all the blood and tears and betrayal. He’s fairly sure what they felt for one another hasn’t changed, he still loves her fiercely and he knows she loves him just the same. But Nat is soft in places she hadn’t been before. Freer in a way that made him feel less burdened. He tried figure out what changed her, what experience shaped her to find humour in pop tarts and band t-shirts. What made her dance to pop music in the kitchen at 5am when she made overly sweet and flavoured coffee with froth and whipped cream?

He’d been lying in bed with Nat when he remembered, the hazy form of a young woman in the hospital room, holding Nats hand as she slept the day he’d woken up in the infirmary. He’d asked her who she was and Nat has stiffened almost imperceptibly before answering in an offhand manner. Something had warned him off asking her any more, but he had a name.

It didn’t take long to find out who she was and that she’d left the day after they brought him in. It took about five minutes in Jane Fosters company before he had the whole story. How Nat and Darcy had been... dating as far as Jane was concerned. What else should she have thought, Jane demanded bitterly. They spent all their time together and Natasha had practically lived in Darcy’s apartment for two months before she’d slowly froze Darcy out of her life.

He’s smart enough to figure out that finding out he was still live is the reason Nat had pushed Darcy away. He’s also smart enough to see that Natasha had trusted Darcy, loved her, but ultimately let her go in the uncertainty of the situation, perhaps thinking she owed him to try again. So he feels guilty that Darcy got hurt in all this and faintly miffed that Natasha hadn’t told him about her, hadn’t been honest. He also knows Nat well enough to realise she hid how she felt about the brunette to protect her and him both. She’d made a choice for all of them without discussing it with either of them.

He nears Darcy, pace slowing as he comes to a stop along side her, mirroring the way she leans against the stone, gazing out into the water.

From the corner of his eye he spots the instant she recognises him. The way her shoulders rise and her plush lips press together in dismay.

“What do you want?”

He’s surprised at the frank question and turns to face her, carefully staying relaxed and trying to look as non threatening as possible. It’s not easy with his height and build to accomplish and he sees the momentary amusement in her blue eyes at the attempt. Like she knows what he’s doing and only finds it funny.

“Wanted to know who you were, find the person who could make assassins fall in love with her.”

Surprise flickers across her face before she snorts derisively.

“I think you got the wrong end of the stick there Red October, it was definitely the other way around. So what, here to take out the competition? Cause I have to tell you, you had nothing to worry about.”

“Not here to hurt you, doll.”

She looks skeptical, one eyebrow arched critically.

“Then why the hell are you here?”

Bucky looks out at the waves again, watching the white lines of surf crash back and forth, a sort of grim understanding as the forceful nature of the water over sharp rocks suddenly solves part of a mystery for him.

“I’m here to bring you home.”

He looks back at her as she stares at him, mouth open soundlessly in shock.

“You love her?”

He asks it kindly, but there’s a certain challenge in his tone that he sees makes her stiffen angrily.

“Yes I do.” She lifts her chin and glares and Bucky grins in response to her stubborn statement.

“Good. Let’s go then.”

He places his metal hand at the small of her back and urges her to start walking.

Darcy wants to slow the fuck down. She has no idea what’s going on, but the moment he smiles at her and his hand touches her she finds herself suddenly longing to do exactly what he wants, to go home to the tower. Back to the family she made there, to her friends, to Natasha. Her heart clenches at the thought of her. It had been eight months and she still felt the sharp sting of grief and loneliness every day. She still loved Nat, adored her with ever atom of her existence. The thought of going back is both tempting and terrifying. She wants to go home but she also fears seeing the rejection in Nat’s eyes if she does. She can’t for the life of her figure why he’s come, why he’s so intent in bringing her back. Except, he wouldn’t be here, saying those things if he didn’t think she should be there. If he didn’t think that her being there would help Nat in some way, that seemed clear enough.

She has so many questions right now but before she can voice them he pulls her closer, tucking her into his side like she belonged there and began chatting about Tony and Jane and Bruce like they’d known each other forever.

She studies him carefully as he talks, he’s handsome there’s no denying it, good looking in a way that she thinks most woman would find difficult to ignore. She flushes a little guiltily as she stares at his lips and the way his tongue darts out periodically. She may be crazy about Natasha still, but she’s not blind and he smells good too. It’s easy to see what Nat sees in him, why she fell for him all those years ago. Underneath all the scruff and scary muscle and the murder arm he’s got a sort of innate kindness that makes you want to trust him.

She briefly considers just walking away: telling him she doesn’t want to go back and to leave her here alone but something stops her. A crazy thought that enters her mind, one she discards as quickly as it forms. But then he looks down at her and calls her doll again, tells her they should pick up some coffee for the drive back and she realises he’s planning to spend the next three days with her in a car, alone.

Bucky winks at her as he flirts a little, testing waters he wasn’t sure he’d find welcome in but the rosy blush he coaxed from her makes him think his slightly crazy plan might not be so crazy at all.

“Are you for real?”

“Only one way to find out.”

He tells her, holding open the door of the SUV, locking her eyes with his.

“She know you’re here?”

“I figured better to ask forgiveness than permission.”

Darcy’s eyes narrow.

“I can’t figure out if you’re brave, stupid or both.”

Bucky shrugs a little.

“Maybe I like to live dangerously.”

Darcy looks between him and the car, some internal debate waging inside her.

“You think this will work?”

“You happy with how things are right now?”

She shakes her head reluctantly, of course not, she’s miserable without Nat, without her life in New York. Bucky offers her a grimace if understanding. He gets it she thinks, understands what she’s not saying. Darcy gets in the car. She’s got three days to get to know the man the woman she loves is in love with. Three days to see if they can be something to each other.

Bucky settles in the drivers seat, starting the car.

“She’s missed you too you know.”

“You’re not mad?”

“How can I be mad that someone else makes her happy? That she’s loved? That she loved you back? That she still does?”

“ I don’t get it!” She chokes out in a rush of air, gesturing with her hands in the air theatrically.

Bucky takes in her beauty, but it’s her easy going nature and sassy sweetness that’s got him chuckling quietly as she scrunches her nose and looks at him like he might be a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

“Buckle up, doll, I can’t promise this won’t be bumpy drive... but I think we’re both heading in the right direction.”

Darcy’s laugh, Bucky thinks as he pulls out of the parking lot, sounds like bells. He’s feeling confident that by the time they reach New York, he’ll be almost as enamoured with the fiery pin up as Natasha is. He thinks he sees now, what makes her special. Darcy has courage and charm and not once in the time since he approached her had she actually seemed afraid of the predator she knew he was. She hadn’t flinched, stood her ground and didn’t seem to give a fuck that he knew 47 ways to kill her with his bare hands. She met his eyes with hers and didn’t waver. It’s the sort of acceptance that’s rare to find in people, especially in his line of work. She reaches over and jams the radio on, changing to a station she seemed to approve of. He quirked a brow and she lifts that stubborn little chin again ready to get her own way.

“I think we’re gonna get along just fine”.

He says with a wink, his metal hand reaching over, turning the sound up.

A car barrels down the highway, AC/DC blaring from the open windows, heading north. The faint whisper of voices, bickering at times, manages to rise over the music.

#15 tales of love #wintershock #bucky barnes x darcy lewis #bucky/darcy

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sweetcatmintea · 5 years

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Pedigree part 2

Here’s the second part to Pedigree! I hope you enjoy this little story ^u^ Feedback appreciated!

Part One: Here

Words: 1850

Romeow learned quickly. Still clumsy on his paws, he took to launching face first at prey. He missed more times than succeeded, but the ones he caught were so sweet. He learned to trot blindside to Rosa. Of all the animals in these woods, she was the only who wouldn’t take the opportunity. His curiosity was voracious, her mothering was not soft. Too many times he ran headfirst into danger, saved only by a furious caterwaul and a blur of claws slamming into would be predators. There was no time to be grateful before she turned around, cuffing him about the ear for his foolishness. Somehow, he preferred that to what fallowed. Without fail, he would end up pinned down while she fretfully groomed his face until she could convince herself he was okay. She was a fearsome mother.

There was no denying that Rosa had become, comfortable – for lack of a better word, with the solitude of her wild life. Equally, she’d be lying if she said everything wasn’t a little more with her son. The breeze was a little more pleasant. The water a little more refreshing. The scents a little more vibrant. He made her happy in a totally new way. The trance like happiness of her past was nothing like this new vitality. It was a buzzing feeling that swelled in her chest in a way she never imagined possible. She loved each and every one of her kittens but there was something different about this one. Perhaps she was covering her constant dread of the very real dangers of the wilderness with joy. Perhaps she was starved for someone to look after. She couldn’t tell. But when he would tear out of the long grass, rat clamped in his jaws and tail high with delight, she couldn’t hide her happiness. She was so very proud of him.

He would speak of his old life every now and then. Musing about what his siblings were up to – had they gotten ribbons yet or was he still the only one? He would boast that, had that dog met him now, it’d be the one limping away. Though Rosa didn’t believe that for one second, she humoured him, purring at the thought. Sometimes he’d wonder about when his people would return for him. She really wished he wouldn’t. She had tried to be gentle about it, in her own coarse way. It wasn’t that she was worried they weren’t coming back, but that they would. And he would go with them. The thought that they’re hurt him again terrified her.

The shivering winters gave way to spring, filling the woods with new life. Birds became reckless, dive bombing anything to step foot neat their nests. Rats and mice scurried about, collecting food to support their massive families. Though the cats did not have to worry about going hungry, the spring brought a different threat with it. Humans ventured into Rosa’s territory, attracted by the blooming flowers and the chance to see a baby animal. Although not exactly teeming with people, there were still more than she’d have liked. Given the option, she’d take none. As though she didn’t have enough to worry about without kids stomping through the bushes, climbing trees, and scaring all of the prey away. She thought she’d have a heart attack when Romeow was grabbed when he approached one. She’d torn out from the leaves, hissing and thrashing until they dropped him and fled. She marched him straight home, asking over and over if he was hurt anywhere. At this rate, she was going to go bald with worry.

Despite that mishap, things were going well again. Romeow had been scared straight and they’d managed to avoid all human contact thus far. A particularly nice day, Rosa lay sunning herself on a forgotten slab of granite. She lazed, listening to the rustle of life around her. An especially daring skink copied her idea on a smaller rock. Luckily for him, she was full. She licked her chops at the memory. Rabbit was such a special treat. She wasn’t sure when, exactly, but at some point, she realised that she hadn’t heard her trouble making son for a while. She wasn’t too worried. He wasn’t entirely useless on his own. Still, she sat up, chirping to him. No reply. He mustn’t have heard her. Gliding off the stone, she wandered towards their home, calling as she went. When she arrived alone, worry began to twist her stomach. When there was no response to her calls, it took root, vines of anxiety tied her guts in knots. Her easy lope turned into a trot, then a sprint. He was nowhere.

Catching a scent trail, she raced along it. Paws barely touched the ground as she slowed just enough not to lose it. Her heartbeat slammed her ears, but she heard it anyway. The frightened cries of her child. She’d never moved so fast in her life. Claws ripped open the earth and were frayed in revenge. White nothing filled her head. Romeow was struggling. Immobilised by human’s arms and wrapped in a towel. He saw her and shrieked. The person hurried to their car, another was halfway in with a box open, and a third behind the steering wheel. She hadn’t even processed what was happening as she ran to him. She wouldn’t let them take him. They couldn’t have her son! Whether because of the screaming mother or the renewed struggles of the son, they sped up. They all but threw themselves into the car. Gone before she could reach them. The roaring motor couldn’t drown out Romeow’s cries. She gave chase. Of course she did. It didn’t matter that it was useless, she couldn’t just let them go. Exhaust fumes teamed up with her biology to suffocate her, stinging her too small nose and making her eyes burn. Legs giving out, she collapsed, numb. Everything was too loud and silent at the same time. There was nothing left. The world had ended and everything was exactly the same. Eventually, she hauled herself to her paws and staggered back to her empty nest.

Her husk fell into routine. Wake, hunt, eat, sleep. Wake, hunt, eat, sleep. She didn’t care when she’d caught a hawk. It was just a matter of survival. She didn’t bother grooming sticky barbs out of her matting fur. It left too much freedom for her mind to wander. Wake, hunt, eat, sleep. The rapid weight loss didn’t bother her. She hardly felt her bones creaking together. The instant her mind escaped her claws, it returned to Romeow. Where was he? Was he okay? Were they hurting him? What if they dumped him someplace else and he was cold and alone? It was too painful. She dragged her unkempt claws over stone to shut herself up. She knew that one day, she’d likely have to farewell her son. It was a part of motherhood after all. But not like this. This was too cruel.

When her nest became too big and too cold, she left it. Preferring to curl in a hollowed log near where Romeow was taken. There was always the dull hope he’d find his way back. So, she waited.

And waited.

When a car pulled up, she considered moving. Slinking back into the brush, returning only once they’d left. Lingering resentment whispered to stay. Chase them away. This was her territory. The decision was made when she heard an unexpected noise. Over the human chatter, Romeow called to her. She was going to vomit. There was no way. Peering out from her hiding place, a little cat with a squirrel-stolen tail stood amongst the people. The world snapped into hyper focus. A harness wrapped his torso, a long lead in one of their hands. Blue met yellow and both cats became rigid. The humans seemed to notice, shushing one another. Romeow let out a delighted meow, running to his mum. Rosa met him halfway. All but barrelling him over to lick his face and inspect for damage. It wasn’t until one human tried to approach that she stopped. Arching her spine and teeth bared, she stood between them and Romeow. Whispers passed between them. Seemingly in agreement, they nodded to one another, then slowly lowered themselves to the ground. Rosa didn’t know what to make of their behaviour but growled for good measure. She almost choked on it when Romeow trotted back to the people, purring as they scratched his back. The human cooed softly to her, trying to coax her with chicken strips. She couldn’t move. They couldn’t be trusted. Humans let their dogs run free. They abandon their kittens to die in the cold. They steal your children. They leave you alone to wait and wait and wait. But there was her son. Returned to her and trying to convince her that these ones were different. These ones were good. Yeah right. They would get bored soon, probably try to take Romeow with them, and leave her alone again.

But they didn’t. The moments stretched out and they stayed put. Night birds chittered and they continued to coo sweetly at her. Cold wind cut them until they shivered and they still didn’t leave. Rosa’s defences stood no chance against their gentle patience. One timid step at a time, she managed to approach. They fed her the chicken, or what was left thanks to Romeow, without a fuss. When Romeow led her into a carrier that shut behind her, she panicked, but he soothed her, gently grooming her like she’d done for him so many times.

It took a long time to adjust to her new life. These new people were different to the ones she’d once known. They enclosed an entire section of their yard for her to go into whenever she wanted. The birds couldn’t get int, which was a shame, but neither could any of the other creatures that had stalked her just as often and she’d hunted them. She and Romeow were allowed anywhere they wanted to go in the house. No-one seemed to mind the fur that stuck to every surface. Romeow was spoiled with toys, scratch towers, and walks whenever he made a fuss. She was too old for that nonsense. She definitely didn’t race around batting the feather orb when no-one was looking. She wasn’t lonely anymore either. Each person greeted her every morning. Whenever they left, they petted her as soon as they returned. They didn’t mind when she didn’t want to cuddle, simply stating that her highness required space. Her fur had been shorn, too matted to brush. As it regrew, they took it upon themselves to ensure she remained knot free, not because she was beautiful but so she would be comfortable.

Life was different here. She wasn’t Rosa Once anymore. Now she was Daisy. Romeow had many titles but was best known as Spunky. It’s been said that cats go by many names, but if she was honest, she liked being Daisy best.

Tag list

@inkovert and @snobbysnekboi

#short story #original story #story #writing #writblr #part two of two #cat #kitten #happy ending

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bimineko · 5 years

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“The Meeting of the Ryuneko”

I have decided to put my hand at writing something. Please tell me what you think of the story! (Below the cut) Word count: 2866 Content Warning: Soft Vo re, Safe Vo re, Light Profanity, Some Degree of Fear (Not too prominent though)

It was the bleeding of the dawn, as the war-ravaged sky dissipated into a calming hue of the ocean. The mist of the morning vanished as my paw steps onto the blades of grass adjacent to the pavement outside of my door. I never dared venture out on foot into the wilderness unless I absolutely had to. I heard the tales of the creatures that wouldn’t rest until it got what it wanted, and in this case, it was the flesh of the prey caught. The only certification that I had concerning these claims were that of the vivid descriptions that my father would tell us if we ever misbehaved in some manner.

It has been a while since my father has passed away, mainly from a broken heart after losing his third wife; the one that made most of an impact on him. However, it was in his best interests that he would never deceive his family, so I held in my heart, every lesson and story that he has ever told. It was destined that this would be the truth, from now until the end of time. I was confident that my father was the wisest of all the men on this planet, and nothing could ever change that.

Daydreaming and recalling what I was told as a little bunny, I timidly went through the forest between my residence and the grand metropolis that rested on the other side of the dark collection of shrubbery and trees that were at least 30 feet tall. Under normal circumstances, this would not be something that I would be invested in participating in. However, this was not a normal circumstance, as my car had broken down in the middle of my driveway, and my birth mother required assistance from an illness that she had caught from venturing into an unexplored area. Cursing silently, I continued through the undergrowth, twitching in slight annoyance whenever an insect landed on my fur.

Forcing myself forward, I got ready to run if there were any of these mentioned predators waiting in the brush in the forest. If my knowledge was correct, I wouldn’t survive out here if caught. Cautiously, I advanced through the plants and my ears twitched as the bushes surrounding me rustled violently. I pushed myself off my feet and I started to run towards the city. However, just as I saw the light of day through the dense branches of the forest, I felt a jerk of my leg and I advanced towards the floor of the woods, my body throbbing in pain. I cried out as I gradually felt a feeling of legitimate dread coming over me, black patches filling my vision before I lost any recollection of my surroundings. I was pretty sure that this was it for me. Goodbye cruel world. May I see you all on the other side...

It was the afternoon when an oversized kitty with attributes of a dragon located a brave adventurer shivering on the forest floor, seemingly having lost conscious. The Ryuneko pushed a paw against the rabbit and tilted his head curiously, wondering why he was taking a nap in quite an inappropriate location. Shrugging, the feline-reptile hybrid checked to see if the bunny was still alive, finding that even though his breathing was labored, he still had a chance to survive.

Not wasting any time, the creature picked up the individual by his neck and trotted to his burrow, moving the branches and trees around so it didn’t look like anybody actually took residence within the cave. Even though the cave was damp and a bit claustrophobic, it was home to the Ryuneko. Going into the far reaches of the cave, he approached his bedroom and placed the rabbit on top of his bed, which was comprised of straw bundled up to make a nest. Following he placed a blanket over the fallen rabbit and started to take care of him as if he was his own, wanting him to get better.

My eyes strained open as I glanced around my surroundings, my back and neck being soar from the previous impact that sent me into a world of darkness. I was able to make out a creature and a few light sources as my consciousness came to me. When I realized that there was a creature over me, I twitched and I backed myself against the straw that surrounded me, looking at the creature with widened eyes.

“Please don’t kill me! I’ve been good, I promise!” I shouted at the creature, determined to keep it away. The creature glanced at me and tilted his head, giving me a gentle lick.

“Kill an adorable creature like yourself? Where did you get that idea? I would never want to hurt you,” the oversized cat with wings explained, putting a wet cloth onto my forehead, “but it would be best if you got your rest. I don’t want you to work yourself to death over some horrific bed time story that your folks told you when you were a child.”

In protest of the creature’s advice, I pushed myself up and attempted to walk upright, finding myself to be stiff from the top of my head to the pads of my hind paws. Falling immediately back to the straw that served as the Ryuneko’s bed, I let out a shout stemming from a jolt of discomfort and pain.

“You don’t understand,” I complained to the creature, as if I was expecting him to sympathize the problems of the common folk in the populous cities, “I have to get to the city as soon as possible! My mother is sick, and I must help take care of her. It’s important...”

The dragon cat looked at me and tilted his head, thinking about the circumstances that I have given to the creature. He smiles with a hint of compassion and rubs my head with careful precision, not wanting to aggravate my injuries, “Agreed. I will help you get there.”

I leaped up in joy when I heard those words and I gave the creature a hug, which either confused him, or made him annoyed. I was never that great at picking up emotional cues. He clears his throat and looked outside towards the entrance of the cave, “However, it would be dangerous for you to walk alongside with me, as you are currently in a weakened state. And the creatures are also smart enough to nab you off of my back, so this leaves me with one more option that I can think of.”

In contrast to the last words that were uttered, I was not as trusting of the creature. I knew what he was going to ask, but I also gathered that I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Reflecting on the knowledge that I had about this creature, I knew that if he wanted to cause me harm, he would’ve done it already. Nodding, I look up at the Ryuneko and I smirk, “Alright, you big guy. I’ll do it. If that is the only safe mode of transportation that you can think of, then I will allow myself to be eaten by you.”

The creature’s tail dropped in place and his eyes widened, taken aback by my willingness to go through with the plan, “I-I... Y-You didn’t even trust me a few minutes ago! What caused you to affirm my plan on short notice, especially when I haven’t actually explained it to you yet?”

“Well,” I replied with a smug expression on my face, petting the side of the feline dragon’s head, “Why would you go through all this trouble of saving me just to eat me, when you could’ve done that while I was lying on the ground, knocked unconscious? Y’know, maybe my father was wrong about you.”

“To be fair, it was within his judgment to protect you. It is natural to be scared of the unknown, but if you don’t let it be your only motivation for living, you will be able to navigate through life without any worries. Granted, it’s easier for some than others, but I wish everyone luck on this journey!”

I twitched my nose and I placed my hand on the paw of the moderately sized creature, glancing at him with a glimmer in my eye. “I loved what you said and all, but I would like to hurry to my mother, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh! Of course! I am very sorry!” The Ryuneko exclaimed, lifting me up with his front left paw, being careful to not subconsciously strangle me. Looking into the creature’s majestic eyes, like that of a canvas of warm colors blended together, I detected a hint of determination in achieving something great. Within moments, his eyes interviewed me, asking if I was ready to face the unknown. I nodded, having nothing except my life and my family to lose.

The cat/dragon hybrid extended his maw open, his tongue reaching greedily reaching to my paws. This was an experience that I always dreaded since I was a young rabbit. However, there was something different about this creature in particular. I don’t exactly know what it was, but this creature seemed like he was not in it for the free food, unlike that of a college student. As time went on, my legs slipped onto his tongue, and I cleared my throat impatiently, informing him that he could actually give me a good taste test after we checked on my mother. He apologized once more and he merely shoved me into his mouth, swiftly gulping me down without a second thought. The journey down was actually kind of pleasant, to my surprise, if not a bit too tight and claustrophobic for my liking. However, I feel like this is something that I could indeed get used to if given an endless amount of time and patience. Resting inside of the spacious belly relative to my size, wincing every time the walls of the stomach squeezed against my body. This was still a sensation that I was not completely used to, but so far, there was no attempt at digesting the passenger safely tucked away.

Curiously, I brushed my paw over the sides of the colossal stomach, taking note of all of the scars that were embedded deep into the tissue. These injuries could really only be made from the inside. Once could imagine the interaction the dragon feline had with those that he previously ate. However, it was not a flesh wound, so it could be gathered that these injuries were relics of the past. Shrugging the violent aspect off, I listened only to the sound of the heartbeat, the stomach shifting around me, and felt the swaying of the stomach as the creature rushed frantically to my destination in a timely manner.

Although not first rate transportation, this experience was a whole lot better than the other options within the city. From the abusive language filling the air from the old drunkards living on the streets, to the individuals with no concept of personal space, it was extremely difficult and uncomfortable to get around to one’s destination. However, being stuck inside of the stomach of a Ryuneko was a significantly better experience, for all involved. You have a higher chance at being the only person using this form of transportation, and the vessel got a free snack in exchange. In all reality, it was a win-win situation for the both of us, although I’m not sure how many people would agree with me.

The swaying of the stomach came to a halt momentarily, snapping me out of the trance I was encompassed in. I placed my hand paw against the side of the fleshy container within the dragon cat, the slobber in dripping down my hand. Ignoring this, I sat up straight, as the movement prior to this would’ve made this impossible.

“Everything alright, big guy?” I asked with a hint of concern, worried that something might be in his way.

“Yep,” the ryuneko answered, addressing my concern, “It’s just that I am not sure where to go next. We have made it to the city though, if you are interested in an update.”

I fidgeted around and I was deep in thought, perking up when a thought entered my mind. “You got a name, big guy? I don’t really want to be calling you ‘big guy’ for the rest of the trip, and further, if we meet again.”

“Nope. I don’t think that I was given a name by my parents or anybody else, for that matter,” the Ryuneko answered after a few moments of silence, “My parents perished when I was a young kitten, and I learned about your behaviors from watching families like yours in the distance. A name is something that I would like, but I don’t know the process behind it.”

We stood in silence for the next few minutes. I was determined to give him a name, but to be honest, I had no idea how to select a name for somebody myself. I scanned the belly to see if there were any defining traits of the dragon cat. Shining a subtle light source onto the walls, I was taken aback. There were so many shines, and they were all as pretty as the night sky in a polluted-free atmosphere. Pushing against the area in which my hand previously occupied, I shook the creature with a burst of excitement.

“Hey, big guy!” I shouted too loud for myself to handle, flinching and placing my free hand over my forehead in agony. Adjusting my volume, I lifted my head back up and smiled warmly, “I think I have a name for you! How does ‘Hoshino’ sound?”

“What does it even mean? I’ll agree that it sounds cool though,” the creature explained, being a skeptic about the name that I proposed for the time being.

“Field of Stars,” I briefly answered, offering a more precise explanation after sensing that he was lost on where I pulled the name from, “your stomach simply reminded me of a starry night. Ever looked up to the sky when the sun was on the other side of the globe, Hoshino? It’s truly something of beauty.”

The dragon cat hybrid didn’t object to his new name, actually taking a liking to it quickly. As a token of his appreciation, his gut pressed against me from all sides and I started to ascend to the sphincter. The way up was much more interesting to me than the way down, as I didn’t expect to get this far in the whole process. As I was pushed through the opening of the stomach, I felt a bit strange as the throat worked in reverse, pulling me up in the opposite direction. After a while, I was back into his mouth and I was spat out, covered in several layers of drool. Shaking myself off, I looked to the dragon cat hybrid and I smirked wildly.

“Enjoy yourself, Hoshino?” I inquired, giving him a pet on the side of his chest.

“Seems like just as much as you did, mister...?” Hoshino seemed a bit conflicted, as he didn’t know what he should call me, other than ‘a snack that he found satisfying.’ I picked up on his cues this time and I elaborated on what my name was, finding it to be underwhelming in comparison to the beast’s name.

“Kyle! Well, actually... My name is Kōto, but I prefer to go by Kyle.”

“Well Mr. Kyle, shall I escort you the rest of the way into the city, so we can visit your mother? I am imagining that she would like to see you in her time of need, and that the city is a dangerous place for an innocent bunny like yourself.”

“Trust Me, Hoshino... I could kick down any sick fuck who would dare put a paw on me.” I started to exclaim, before my enthusiasm went extinct, “But probably not in the state that you found me in. Feel free to accompany me in this task, if you wish.”

“Wow! Do you eat people with that mouth? Never mind that, let’s get going now.” Clearly, the Ryuneko was taken aback by my diction choice, but he still decided to walk alongside me. With this fearsome beast next to me, nobody dared to pick a fight with me only because I was a rabbit. After venturing through the concrete maze that was the city, we finally made it to the hospital, when my sick mother was.

Although I had to try to convince the hospital staff that I was indeed related to my mother, and that I wasn’t being held hostage by the giant creature by my side, we were able to make it to the room where my mother was being observed. Although she looked well, I knew that I had to make sure she was alright. Taking a breath of hesitation, I walked into the room to let her know that I have made it safely, and that I, rather, we, would be there for her.

#My Literature #Soft Vore #Safe Vore #Furry Vore #Anthro Vore #Ryuneko Pred #Rabbit Prey #Size Difference #G/T #Giant/Tiny #丸呑み #ケモノ丸呑み #獣人丸呑み #龍猫捕食者 #兎被食者 #別寸法 #巨大 #小型

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holocron-inthe-restrictedsection · 5 years

Text

Night Shift at the Temple

Written for @celebrate-the-clone-wars Writing Wednesday prompt: Night Shift!

A Jedi Temple Guard sees all, speaks to few, and has attachments to no one. One must be prepared for any threats that may arise, especially at night, while most of the Temple sleeps.

Words: 1849

(Read on AO3, or click ‘keep reading’ below to stay on tumblr)

* * *

Even without a chrono, it was obvious when nighttime had descended on the Jedi Temple. Through the massive skylights and slotted windows, a blue-yellow haze interrupted the dark sky, billions of light pinpricks glittering like planet-bound stars. The planet never slept, not really. Half the populace was always awake, traffic never lessened, and silence was an ancient myth.

The Temple District stood separate from the rest of the bustling world, distanced by more than a kilometer of calm city blocks. Within the Temple, the grand halls were mostly empty. The internal lighting mechanisms had dimmed to half-power, a soft glow emanating from the sconces. Enough light to see by, but not so much that it was overwhelming. Though it was always quiet in the Temple, the night brought a hush that I'd never heard anywhere else.

By the time I readied myself for my rounds, the majority of the Jedi had retired to their rooms. I donned my ceremonial robes, affixing a belt around my waist and pulling on my gloves and gauntlets. With great care, I placed the white, gold-detailed Temple Guard mask over my face and raised the hood of my robes.

It had been three years since I had last left this room without being entirely concealed. Some would have felt restricted, surrendering their very identity, but I did not feel as such. To serve as a Temple Guard was the highest honor I could ever dream of, and I was more than willing to suffer anonymity if it meant proving my devotion to the Order. I took my lightsaber pike and carefully clipped it to my belt within easy reach, and exited the sleeping quarters.

As I made my way to my post, I came in contact with only two beings, who were conversing quietly as they walked. The Ithorian and Theelin Jedi nodded in greeting as they passed. I inclined my head slightly in response, though we exchanged no words. I had never learned their names, but the pair of them frequently walked the halls at this time, always deep in conversation, seemingly without a destination in mind. Sometimes I would not run into them again; sometimes, we crossed paths four or five times during my rounds.

I couldn't help but wonder what it was they always had to talk about. It had been quite some time since I had spoken with anyone other than the other Guards, and the idea of always having some matter to passionately discuss was vaguely intriguing. Emotional detachment was critical to properly perform my role; to defend the Temple from all threats, I could not afford to have my judgment clouded by my feelings. There is no emotion; there is peace.

I passed the Archives and glanced through the arching doorway. Holobooks and datacrons shimmered blue and white upon their shelves, data terminals lined up along the main walkway, busts of notable Jedi bookending the aisles. A handful of Jedi occupied the space, seeking information about the galaxy as they prepared for upcoming missions.

An aggravated-looking Padawan paced up and down the aisles, halfheartedly looking around for trouble. I suppressed a smile as I recognized the telltale signs of Council-ordered Archive security duty. It remained a favored tactic of the Council when attempting to instill patience, vigilance, or humility in headstrong Padawans. I'd been put on guard duty a few times myself when I was young.

Sitting in an isolated corner, I recognized a Gotal staring intently at a datapad; he would be here well into the night, studying some culture or other. Back when I went on off-world missions, I would often see him when I came to study holocrons. He was a wise Master, and I had learned much from him as the night grew long. Of course, I had not spoken with him since entering the ranks of the Guards. A part of me wondered if he knew what I had risen to. Maybe he thought I had died, or else been reassigned. Whatever he thought, it didn't matter.

I continued walking, following the twists and turns of the halls.

I arrived at my post, the intersection of five main thoroughfares. Another masked Guard stood waiting for me to relieve them. I didn't know their name, but their presence was familiar. They nodded wordlessly to me, and stepped away. I watched them pace down the way I had just come, then stood at attention.

After Master Cin Drallig, head of Temple security, checked in with me, I began my patrol, choosing the north-bound corridor to start with. We did not have set routes to follow, merely designated areas. That way, we did not fall into a routine that could be easily monitored by potential trouble-makers. Tonight, I was near the northern hanger bay and a mechanical repair room, my path passing through one of the dining halls.

Nothing seemed amiss for the first part of my patrol. Most nights were uneventful, as it should be. Though I was always prepared for any disturbances, a quiet shift was a good one. Three months before, there had been a breech in a lower quadrant of the Temple as an arrogant Zygerrian slaver tried to access the crèche. After breaking in, she had gotten lost in the winding halls and passages, but was able to navigate enough of the Temple to avoid detection for almost a full day before she was finally apprehended and taken into custody. We had all been on high-alert for a month afterwards, anticipating another attempted kidnapping, but none ever came.

As I stepped into the dining hall, I found the regulars eating their morning meal – well, their first meal. When I first took up the night patrol, I had been surprised to learn just how many nocturnal species made up the Order's ranks. Frigosians, Nazzar, Tumanians, and so many others, their body's sleep patterns requiring rest during the day, allowing them to be active at night. I'd wondered if they were able to maintain a regular sleep cycle, or if they had to be awake during daylight hours to receive assignments and begin missions.

Of course, I hadn't had an opportunity to ask, and doubted that I would. These Jedi had formed an order of their own, a system of beings who inhabited the Temple separate from the rest of the Order. They may intermingle at dawn and dusk, but neither nocturnal nor diurnal fully lived in the world of the other.

Having experienced both, I was struck by the differences that existed in the Temple depending on the angle of the sun. Those who woke at night were always soft-spoken, more light-footed, as though they prowled around the Temple on the lookout for prey or predator. In my observations, they tended to have a stronger ability to sense and manipulate the living Force. Those awake during the day tended to be rowdier, bolder, and far more dependent on sight. Perhaps that had come with the evolutions of their species millennia ago.

None of the Jedi in the dining hall greeted me as I passed through, and I did not acknowledge them. It was my duty to be watchful, not social.

I returned to the intersection of hallways, turning left to continue patrol towards the hanger bay. The civilian mechanics were gone for the day, and as I activated the door control and entered the bay, was greeted with darkness and silence. Hulking transports loomed in the darkness, speeders and starfighters casting long shadows from the dim emergency lights. The lack of humming engines and sparking tools, chittering droids and laughing mechanics, made the hanger feel very lonely.

Something was behind me.

I spun on my heel, snapping my lightsaber into my hand, but didn't activate the blade. The hall was deserted. I hesitated, reaching out with the Force, sensing for any lifeforms.

There, around the corner. A very strong presence in the Force, lurking just out of sight.

I relaxed, recognizing the imprint. It was young Skywalker, out past curfew once again. On his way to the repair room, no doubt. Whenever he couldn't sleep, the boy snuck out to tinker with electrical components. I'd caught him no fewer than two dozen times since he'd come to the Temple. Of course, that was just how often I'd actually found him, and escorted him back to his room. Lately, it just didn't seem to be worth it; the boy was stubborn, and if he was determined to work on droids late at night, then so be it. He wasn't about to cause any mischief.

Besides, I'd always had a soft spot for younglings out to explore the Temple. The Masters would not approve, and the written rules were to prevent the young ones from leaving the crèche. But it was an unspoken understanding that younglings and Padawans would sneak out no matter what. We had all done it when we were their age. The Temple's paths were numerous, a labyrinth of hallways and courtyards and rooms built up after a thousand years of expansion and construction. The Temple was too fascinating not to explore. And in the basic sense of the word, it was their home; they should be allowed to go where they so chose, as long as their was no danger.

“Master Drallig will be checking this sector before mid-night,” I said casually to the empty hall. The mask distorted my voice. “I suggest you be back in bed by then.” I turned deliberately away.

There was a moment's hesitation, then I heard the soft padding of running feet behind me, sliding around the corner and fading down the corridor, towards the repair room.

I allowed myself a smile as I locked the hanger access door again and clipped the lightsaber back to my belt. I sympathized with young Skywalker's nighttime missions. When I was young, I would find my way to the Room of a Thousand Fountains and swim in the ponds for hours. More often than not, I was caught and sent back to my room. But there had been one young Jedi Knight, Ky Narec, who would just sit and talk with me, quizzing me about my studies, answering my questions about the Force, never criticizing my nighttime excursions. When I became of age, he had taken me as his Padawan.

For a moment, I felt a twinge of sadness. Master Ky had been so proud when I passed the Trials, and had advised me whenever I needed him. But I hadn't spoken to him since I joined the Temple Guard. I wondered where he was now; I hadn't seen him around the Temple in several years. Last I knew, he had been given a long-term assignment on an outer-rim world.

I drew a deep breath, shaking myself out of my thoughts and stepping back to the hallway. I could not dwell on my past connections. I could not focus on protecting the Temple if I was distracted by my own feelings. There is no emotion; there is peace.

I continued following the path, alert for any danger.

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nautiscarader · 5 years

Note

Sparity Size Diff

Sparity, E

(Ao3)

Rarity definitely understood the term that time flies faster when you are older. She could swear that last time she looked, her drakefriend was just a bit shorter than her, and then, one day, he grew wings, and after that…

Every time she visited Twilight’s castle he was an inch higher, until one day she had to start looking up to meet his eyes.

And only now, as he towered above her, that profound realisation hit her. He was a grown-up dragon. Not the little Spikey-Wikey that waddled behind her like a lost puppy, but a proper drake, twice the size of a regular pony, rivalling even Princesses Celestia and Luna.

His claws, fangs, scales, tale, wings, everything seemed to have at least doubled in size. And nowhere were the proportions more visible than in his…

Height.

Rarity had to remodel the Carousel Boutique quite a lot to accommodate her drakefriend. Doors were one thing, but beds required some permanent solution, especially since due to his nature, Spike was at least three times as heavy as most stallions. It became painfully obvious when they had to order a new one in just a week after he moved in, as the old one’s legs simply refused to withstand both of them.

Fortunately, Spike himself found a solution. When Rarity returned from one of her long trips from Canterlot to check on her shops there, she found her bedroom redecorated, and a large, circular spot in the middle of it, filled with a mountain of pillows, but no bed in sight.

It took her a while to realise that Spike made a nest for her, and she thought it was the most romantic present she could have given her.

So much so, she felt they needed to test it right away.

And what a feeling it was, to lie in a circular sea of fluff three times of your size, surrounded by the abundance of cosiness, though clearly, being in the middle of it, Rarity felt a little bit like a prey in a predator’s den.

And judging by Spike’s sly smile, this was exactly his plan.

- Would you like a little role-playing, Spike? I love being the defenceless mare…

Rarity spread her hind legs, showing him her overflowing pussy, messing somewhat the pristine, white sheets Spike prepared for them. His growling voice, however, told her everything.

Spike didn’t want to play.

He grabbed her flanks with his clawed hands and dived between her legs, coating her entire sex with a single lick of his long, twisting tongue. But his tongue wasn’t what Rarity desired to see, and Spike evidently thought the same.

- Come on, Spike. I’ve been waiting for this…

She looked down, as his massive phalluses emerge from within his scales and spring up, aiming right at her. Spike brought her to his crotch, sandwiching her small body between them, using her pussy and flanks to stimulate both the lower and upper one.

Rarity wondered how Spike will choose to take her. With two cocks and two holes, one choice seemed obvious, though they needed a lubricant and lots of clean-up afterwards. Rarity preferred when Spike laid the upper one on her belly, just so she could caress it with her hooves or magic, and more importantly, so she could watch in real time how far its twin have gone.

Seemingly being able to read her mind, Spike decided to go that route, prepping her against the pillows and sinking his lower cock inside her. Rarity remembered how anxious she was when they first made love; the sheer idea that she could get even a fraction of him inside seemed ludicrous, borderline life-threatening. But she wouldn’t give up. Inch by inch, she welcomed him between her folds, setting all of her nerves on fire, climaxing a few times on the way, until, unbelievably, he reached her limit just before his scales brushed her clit.

Two years later, though she was far less nervous, it still evoked exact same feeling of utter fulfilment, when Spike rammed himself inside her, having learned how far, how fast, and how rough he can be. His body cast a shadow over her, filling her vision with the sight of her lover, the grimace of determination on his face, and smoke coming from his nostrils with each push.

And as if that intimidating and imposing image wasn’t enough, in front of her his other cock slid in unison with the other one, desperately needing some attention. Her hooves and her spell engulfed it at once, generating another low grunt from her lover. She moved alongside his bumpy, vein-covered texture, marvelling at its size, once again making her wonder how it can fit inside her so easily.

Perhaps it was magic, some primal, ancient form of it that allowed the two lovers to fit so perfectly? Twilight spoke so much about friendship, so surely a feeling thousand times stronger would be able to do so… Rarity tried applying some logic to it, but found that the moment she let go of her reason and gave into the pleasure, she understood it far better.

And besides, she had not time for thinking anyway, as the world around her spun when Spike effortlessly lifted her up, without even having to use his hands, moving her into an upright position. Impaled on his massive length, Rarity felt like a puppet on somepony’s hoof, though only when Spike grabbed her sides and begun moving her up and down she reached the true meaning of defencelessness.

She was on his mercy, and only once she accepted that, she came, squirming and flailing around him. His climax didn’t come until hers second one, and the flood of his warm cum jump-started her orgasm anew. When he bent her down earlier, Rarity prepared herself for a cumshot on her face from his second cock, but now, Spike presented her with even more impressive, though messier, fountain of his seed shooting into the air, as she continued stroking him.

And then, she lost her balance again, when her massive boyfriend fell to his back, his soft belly cushioning her fall perfectly. The same hands that ruthlessly moved her body to pump his cock now delicately brushed her mane and quivering body, as the two lovers basked in their afterglow in their new bed.

- Rarity, are you okay, darling? - he asked her as soon as he regained his senses - I can bring you to the bathroom any time you want, we, we made the bathtub bigger too when you were gone, and…

A single kiss placed on his chest gave Spike the answer, though in this case, it also gave Rarity chance to taste her lover’s orgasm again.

- I’m more than fine, Spike…

She cooed, revelling in the warmth that spread through her body, knowing the same kind heat was both underneath and inside her. His chest rose up and down, lulling Rarity into slumber.

She was wrong. The same dragon that rocked her world and made her scream in ecstasy was still her small, generous Spikey-Wikey that would do anything for her.

#spaity #spike #rarity #lemon #nautiscaraderfics

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onceuponamirror · 7 years

Text

riverdale 201 meta

no one asked me but i’ve got Thoughts so i’m making the post anyway, because it’s been a long time since i’ve done a chunky meta and this is what i’m really here for, SO

all the world’s a stage

first of all, acting was fairly strong all around, strong chemistry, and bughead was particularly excellent in terms of continuing their pattern of healthy communication, even when that leads to uncomfortable truths.

diving into it, i could see the effect of the step they took in their relationship and the change that admitting love had, particularly on jug, all grins and teasing and breathing some much needed light of love into the character

[x]

not just because it was such a spot of happiness amongst the heaviness of jug’s earlier arcs and this episode’s drama

but also because the bigger they are the harder they fall---

it made the hammer heavy when he realized his seemingly simple request for information was taken as a direct order essentially from his father, and the intense ramifications of such.

he admitted to betty that he was drawn to the motorcycle, the jacket, to stay closer to his father, a person he still idolizes despite having such a thick sense of disenfranchisement about him that he lived in a drive in for who knows how many months---and the gang delivering the “proof” of completing a job, and more so, realizing that his father would want to see that the job was done, sets the stage.

the civil war isn’t just a story of class warfare and suburban disillusionment. it isn’t just about bughead’s romeo and juliet™ storyline. it’s jughead.

jughead is the civil war, all happening within himself.

he’s still just a young boy craving a hero, and his father falling on his sword at the end of the first season earned him a lot of respect in his son’s eyes---his father’s biker iconography suddenly became a symbol of the under trod, proletariat revolutionary a jaded kid like jughead would be desperate for.

and the americana open road biker imagery has been heavily rose-colored over the years, particularly in pop culture, and i think that’s what jughead bought into---the idea of rebels, not the gang behind it.

and here he realizes that it’s not just symbolism. it’s not a game.

[x]

i mean, jughead was playing amateur p.i. all episode, clearly relishing in the role---and so when he came home to a bloodied message, it was def a successful emphasis of the fact that he was almost treating it like a game, which did establish him as a capable detective once more, but also highlighted how naive he can be.

in an episode that was really all about fathers, an absentee FP managed to not just have a presence---but an impact.

it was an especially interesting parallel between the other fathers---fred was also heavily exploring symbolism within his fever death dream scape, witnessing passages of time, whereas hiram was introduced almost as the opposite anvil to FP, his entire presence ominously manifesting in a bottle of cristal.

his absence was conspicuous, where FP’s was not initially, and by the end of the episode, their identities as major players within a larger scheme put them on opposite ends of the same road.

and unlike jughead, who realized throughout the course of the episode that this wasn’t a game, that there are rules and they’re being applied to himself---veronica is hyperaware of this game, hyperaware of the manipulations at play, and is certainly adept at it.

but like jughead, she doesn’t seem to really have the scope of it yet.

veronica is a character who only shows her age around the adults with whom she’s always had intense power imbalances. in a world of elite new york society and manipulative, abusive parents, she was forced to appear grown up, so much so that she tricked herself.

[x]

through the poking and proding of her mother, leveraging timed accusations, and brattily doing the things she knows she’s not supposed to, veronica reveals herself as probably the most immature character on the show---but that’s a good thing, hear me out.

because she’s also the character who appeared the most put together. the most honest with herself, the most willing to look within and self-analyze. in the first season, she seemed unflappable, but it was also---well, there was no real tension in her character beyond a building fear that her parents were not who she thought they were.

i thought veronica could’ve been more compelling than what we got in season one, so this opening with setting the stage of her as a child playing a game she doesn’t understand the stakes of sets her up for really excellent character growth and development---

and some fun structural parallels between jughead too, which will hopefully galvanize the layers of classism to be explored throughout the season.

veronica and her father vs jughead and his, in the ways they navigate the societal games that feel so disparate from one another but will ultimately, i’m sure, meet in the mobs v. gangs mouth of cultural ouroboros.

so i’m excited!! ok, now moving on to betty.

[x]

the acting was also very strong here. i think i read lili describe this season as “tortured” for her character, and that already came across. she too had the afterglow of i love you, but obviously haunted by what happened after that; her anxiety about the serpents was felt and perfectly sold.

but her ability to understand that from jughead’s perspective while maintaining her skepticism (rightly so, considering) showed maturity while also set the stage for the upcoming tension.

i wish i had more to talk about with her in this ep, but i think i will again soon.

also, that chemistry!!! again!!!

[x]

anyway.

cheryl was also crazy good tonight; she gave me chills!! madelaine petsch’s greatest skill is her intonation---she has an ability to keep a blank face that puts her entire delivery into her voice.

she did this last season too, when speaking to her parents (and particularly her father), where she’d keep a doll-like composure that was manipulated by tone, and she did it again, with that soft voice and eyes that manage to be dull and blank and calculating and winking all at once.

i don’t know how she does it but i’m friggin impressed!!!

[x]

however, the weight of this episode rode on archie overall, and there were some things i felt fall a little flat.

i know what they were going for was a slow build of impact, as they did with jughead, realizing the depth of what was going on, but the the whole first third of the episode just was slow and, at times, felt a bit insensitive to the topic of a man being shot.

(minus the scene where they all get the call---particularly sold by the perfect 80s synth-noir music of the chromatics [x])

when archie (and veronica too) did finally break down (though for him it was again) i think it was a strong moment, and very well acted---KJ does terror and latent anguish very well, two spectrum ends of the same emotion that is hard to balance. he was shaky with the gunman, and then when he really gave in to the trauma of that, it was well done.

and right before he did give in was, i think, the best part of his performance. it’s easy to sell crying. it’s not easy to sell all the emotions that you cling to in order to keep yourself from doing that.

[x]

but. i wish there was a different tone set between the time he left the hospital and when it all hit him again. this is an issue with the episode direction, though.

still, a good episode for him, it was nice that archie had more to do than be the chess board plot plays out on top of, and moreover i think it really established the tone of the next arc, and the obsessive vigilance that’s taking over him.

so as a whole, a good development/establishment episode for these 5 main characters.

lights, camera---

into the overall, the cinematography was excellent!!

[x]

however, i think this was an episode that particularly highlighted the difference between cinematography and direction---as in, the former was strong, the latter felt off.

perhaps it’s the chronic effect of heavy promotion and hype, but i honestly felt like the episode was confusingly paced in terms of it’s timeline, and surprisingly goofy with the special effects (shaky zoom? really?).

and as i said above with archie’s point, the structure of the episode was rough and just wasn’t the best directed episode of television i’ve seen. i think there needed to be a lot more momentum coming out of the gate.

however, again, the cinematography, and the framing within those shots, was very strong. there was one shot that was just the word “hospital” but the H was a parking sign number and it was so simple but i am obsessed with it.

[x]

extra thoughts

hopefully the show actually consciously tackle the topic of abuse beyond the bare bones of an origin story (cheryl, calling it as it is), especially of it’s many forms that it’s already portrayed and frankly fumbled (i.e. grundy, even in the curtain of the premiere), but also with the upcoming lodge arc.

i mean, many of us were calling for grundy’s death, and i wasn’t one of those people because i wanted her to fucking go on TRIAL for her aggressive sexual predation of young boys and have an actual dialogue about male rape, so my main concern with her back for a ~twist that ended in her murder is that we’ll never get to have that conversation? and the impact that her abusive behavior had on archie, too? i mean???? ugh

and i don’t really have much to say about cheryl and veronica’s abusive relationships with their parents as of now, because it’s late and i’m tired and i think i just wrote like 5k words, but just that i want them to handle this right, and i’m nervous but trying to be optimistic that with a longer season and more time, heavy topics will be handled with sensitivity and the respect they require.

so cheers to a new season, i think this episode set the stage for a lot of meaty character growth, neon delirium aesthetics, and a plot that explores classism and family under a microscope.

yay!

also---who else thinks the “green-eyed shooter” was chic cooper? i mean, come on

#bughead #jughead jones #betty cooper #riverdale #riverdale meta #veronica lodge #cheryl blossom #archie andrews #episode analysis #character analysis #riverdale spoilers #2.01 #i haven't done one of these in so long!!!!!!!#i'm exhausted so hopefully it's coherent

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jemilyreial · 4 years

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Cat Spraying Problem Awesome Useful Tips

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6 Month Old Cat Peeing Everywhere

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Cat Pee Keto

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#Cat Spraying Problem Awesome Useful Tips #Jackson Galaxy Cat Spraying In House

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